Superstar-
I notice this boy every single day. He sits at the table in the coffee shop and writes in a tiny worn book. Some days he's wearing a beanie, and some days he's wearing sunglasses covering his bright blue eyes. He always wears skinny jeans and band shirts though, no matter the weather. Too many rubber bracelets lined each wrist, colorful and each lined with letters, most likely for bands or events. He is simply breathtaking.
He doesn't talk to anyone at the shop, just orders his drink and sits down to write. I don't want to bother him because he looks so focused on whatever it is that he's writing. Sometimes he chews on the pencil or pen between his fingers, and sometimes he just stares out the window of the shop.
I'm too afraid to talk to him. He's too good for me anyways.
One day, about two weeks after the first time I see him, he catches me staring. I can't help it, he's absolutely stunning. He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. I feel myself flush unintentionally, and I look away. He was never meant to notice me, but I can't help but love the feeling of him paying attention to only me for a moment.
It's probably a bit creepy to be so invested in someone who I've never talked to, but I can't seem to ignore the blonde on the other side of the room.
The next time I see him at the coffee shop, he gestures for me to come over. But when I sit down at the table with him, he doesn't talk.
I don't mind the silence because just being in his presence is calming. I don't even know his name, but I want to know more about him. I want to know his favorite color and what he does in his spare time and what makes him smile.
There is something about this boy that is drawing me in more and more by the second and I don't know what to do about it.
When I walk through the doors the next day, I don't know if it's okay to sit with him.
Based on the frown he sends my way when he sees me sitting alone, he wants my company.
He writes and writes until he finally stops and closes his book. He stares at me with the most intense eyes, while still being so calming.
I don't know what about him makes him so interesting, but I never want to leave the boy with the blue eyes.
"Luke", he says quietly one day. It leaves me startled for a moment, but I managed to keep it from appearing so.
That was the first time I ever heard his voice. Deep, raspy and completely unexpected based off his appearance.
He's sixteen and he's the lead singer in a band. He writes lyrics in the book every single day before going to band practice. They want to be famous someday; touring the world and living the dream.
I tell him that he'll make it there some day and he just laughs, because I haven't even heard his band play yet. I tell him that he is born to be someone, just wait.
Each time we sit together, it takes a few minutes for Luke to start talking. He comes into the building with no light in his eyes, just vacancy. I want to ask why he looks so lifeless but it's not my place to speak.
Instead I count the number of bracelets on his wrists and watch the way his fingers curl around the pencil until he decides he's okay enough to speak.
But once he starts talking, he can't stop. He smiles and laughs and smirks along with our conversations, ranging from his band to my school work to something funny from TV. There are still those moments where he goes quiet, the light leaves his eyes, and he writes in the book for a few minutes, but that quickly changes and all is okay again.
He tells me his favorite color is blue, he loves Mexican food more than anything else and he can't wait for the day that his band becomes famous. He speaks about how much he hates having to still do school work, and how his mother always babies him although he feels like he's an adult. He loves his family and loves his few, dedicated fans even more. He seems like he still has secrets, but I don't want to intrude. All in good time.
He comes in one day with tear tracks down his cheeks. The watery lines weave patterns on his face, draining what little life he seems to have.
Today is the first day that I think it's okay to speak first.
I ask him if he's okay and he just shakes his head. He sits in the booth quietly and rests his head on his arms. We don't speak for a few minutes, until I grab his hand lightly. His calloused fingers rub over my palm lightly, picking out strings and playing a melody that only he can hear. He sighs lightly when he sits up, shooting me a tired, yet thankful smile. He's okay for now, and all is normal.
It's two days before I see Luke again. It's not like him to miss a day, but who am I to get possessive over someone I see for an hour a day. We don't really know each other and I mean nothing to him. I'm just another girl in the bigger picture that is his life.
But when he does come into the shop again, he looks happier than he ever has before. A million different scenarios pass through my head; it's a girl, it's the band, it's something wonderful and amazing and he's going to stop caring about me.
And I'm right. The band, they're opening for One Direction on their world tour. And that's... amazing. His little Australian band is opening for the world's biggest boy band. This is life changing. He's finally going to be able to see the world with his four best friends.
