• Spotlight •

• Chapter 8 ~ Possession •

"Arzaylea?" Luke couldn't deny his pure shock.

So this is Arzaylea? She's not what I expected. I expected a tall, blonde, breasty girl with a shocking shade of pink lipstick and an annoying high-pitched voice.

She looked the complete opposite. She was tanned, her hair dark and her lips painted a beige colour. Her contouring was insane – something I never had the time or patience for – and she was wearing skinny jeans, chunky black boots and a baseball shirt; something I would actually consider wearing. But something about her was making my instincts scream at me. I didn't like her, and I didn't know why.

"Hey baby," she sauntered over to Luke, wrapping her arms around his neck dramatically as if he'd just returned from war. "Thought I'd surprise you."

"Well, you succeeded," Ashton groaned rolling his eyes. Maybe my instincts had been right. None of the guys seemed particularly happy at her arrival; even Luke who was supposedly fucking the girl.

Arzaylea smiled in Ashton's direction with sarcasm practically foaming at her mouth.

"Babe, you can't just show up like that. We can't bring you on tour, you know that," Luke protested trying to keep his voice down to avoid the attention of the room. He failed.

"Well then it's a good job you're not actually going on tour for like a week or something, right? I thought we could spend a lot of time together before you leave." Her attempt at being seductive was laughable. I almost thought she was joking. Almost.

But unfortunately, Luke just couldn't turn her away. Was he too nice to do so? No. I'd seen otherwise. He wasn't nice.

"Well, uh... I guess you should come and meet everybody then." He placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her towards the rest of us.

"This is Arty," Arty waved at her, polite as always.

"That's Benny," he nodded in her direction.

"That's Gemma," Gemma looked her up and down, clearly judging the girl before her. She was a very good judge of character, and I could tell she didn't like her. Gemma smiled at her and said a sickly "hello", very tongue-in-cheek.

Luke took in a short breath that he seemed to hold for a second too long before, "and that's Beth," he pointed at me. Her head snapped in my direction like she had a ventriloquist's hand shoved up her ass. And if looks could kill, we would have shot each other at the exact same time and been lying in pools of our own blood. You could feel pure tension in the atmosphere. Luke watched Arzaylea like a hawk, waiting for her to do or say something. But I couldn't let her know that I knew exactly what she was thinking.

"Nice to meet you, Arzaylea. Is it Lea for short, or do you prefer Arzaylea?" I deserved a fucking Oscar, I kid you not. To pretend I was none the wiser, that I was indifferent to her, was more difficult than lying my way out of therapy.

"No, it's Arzaylea," she put bluntly, not bothering to hide her obvious disgust. Her nose wrinkled as she spat her words at me, her lips turning down at the corners slightly.

"Ah, okay. Sorry. Well we were just having a heated debate over Queen albums and getting very drunk. Care to join?" Maybe I deserved a BAFTA too...

She raised her chin slightly looking down on me and my friends before taking a seat next to Ashton where Luke had been. Luke had no other option but to sit on the arm of the couch by her side. This bitch was salty as fuck; you could practically taste the salt in the air.