Faithfully (A Luke Hemmings/McKayla Maroney FanFiction)

Prologue

Luke Hemmings jumped out of bed with the ferocious excitement that could only be mustered by the likes of a hyperactive nine-year-old with circus on the mind. He ran wildly down the hall and threw himself into the bedroom of his eldest brother, Ben, who was still sound asleep. Luke jumped up onto his brother, colliding bodies, Luke's knee jamming into Ben's side so hard it made the elder brother cry out.

"Ow!" he yelled, opening one eye. "Damn, Luke. Get off."

He shoved his little brother who went tumbling to the floor, but he was up on his feet again in two seconds flat. "Come on, Ben!" He whined, shaking his brother's shoulder. "It's the circus today!"

Groaning, Ben pulled the covers over his head. "Go bother Jack."

With a heavy sigh, Luke stalked out of the room. The next door down was that of his thirteen-year-old brother, Jack, but Jack had been in a consistently bad mood for the last year, so he didn't bother knocking. Instead, he ran downstairs and skidded into the kitchen, nearly losing his balance as he tried to slide across the linoleum flooring. He pulled a chair that made an atrocious scratching noise before he put it under the particular cupboard he wanted.

Clambering up, he couldn't wait for the day he was big enough to get his Cinnamon Toast Crunch off the top shelf all by himself. Little Luke moved the chair back in place. Another screech. Snatching out a bowl out of a lower cabinet, he took out the milk and sat down on the chair he had moved, dumping the cereal into the perfect, white bowl that matched the perfect, white flooring, and the pristine white counters.

"What the hell, Luke?" Jack came thundering down the steps, his blonde hair a complete mess, his bright eyes glazed over. "What time is it?"

Luke looked over his shoulder at the green numbers on the microwave. "Uh, seven ten."

"That was rhetorical, dumb ass," he squeezed his eyes shut and leaned against the counter.

"What's rhetorical mean?" Luke squeaked.

"It means he doesn't want an answer," his father walked down the steps, tousling Luke's hair as he went by. "I'm going to need some of that cereal, buddy."

His youngest just smiled as his dad grabbed a bowl and hijacked his ingredients.

"Jacky, do you want some?" asked their father.

With a groan, he made his way to the table and sat down with a thud, letting his head drop to his folded arms on the table. Andrew Hemmings smiled as he filled up the bowl and pushed it toward his son.

"We're still going to the circus, right?" Luke piped up.

"Yes buddy," his father smiled.

"Will you shut up about the circus already?" demanded Jack as he pushed the cereal around in his bowl with his spoon.

"Be nice, Jack. You remember how much you loved the Ice Capades when you were his age?" Andrew gave a look to his middle son.

Jack scowled, and Luke laughed.

"What's this?" came the lilting, melodic voice of Liz Hemmings as she came down the stairs in a lavender robe. "My boys are having cereal for breakfast?"

She kissed Luke's head, then Jack's as he shirked away from her, and finally, the lips of her husband. Grabbing her own bowl, she sat down with them.

"I guess cereal it is," Liz smiled broadly. 

"Fine, I'm up," said Ben as he walked slowly down the steps, then he smiled. "Cinnamon Toast Crunch?" 

"The breakfast of champions," their mother handed him a bowl.