culpability ., luke hemmings

dos

luke

I WOKE UP WITH MY HEART RACING, as per usual. Instead of jumping up instantly out of bed, I laid there for a moment. Really thinking about the dream, and all that it meant. It didn't really mean anything, all it was, was me recollecting the memories of that night. After less than a minute, I realized that was enough of basking in despair, and turned my attention to my bedside table. Opening the first drawer, and fishing out the picture that had found it's way to the back of the drawer. Everyone always told me how unhealthy it was for me to keep constant reminds of her around the house. I felt like she would be mad, mad if I didn't remember exactly how she looked. It was all apart of the guilt thing. A lot of people die everyday, and in a couple months are forgotten by everyone. As if they never existed.

After a minute or two, I put the picture back into the drawer and walked out of my room. For some reason I could hear the sounds of cars, and people talking louder than usually. Living in New York there was always some noises, but it was louder than usual. The patio door was open. Since when did we even fucking have a patio? I walked outside, and met eyes with another stranger. I was so goddamn tired of waking up to these strangers invading my home. Even worse he blew some smoke out of his mouth, and right on my face. I just stared at him; speechless. He dragged the cigarette from his lips, and put his free hand out, "Calum, Calum Hood," the boy smirked.

"What the hell are you doing on my patio?" I exasperated with one hand on my forehead as I really tried to figure this one out. Calum, or whatever, took another drag from his stick of cancer before responding, "smoking." He then took a quick look at me before asking, "and you? what are you doing?" I stared at him blankly with wide eyes. I turned away from him, and made my way towards Michael's room. Him nor Tegan were awake yet; figures. I didn't bother knocking, as I abruptly swung open the door, "who the hell is that kid on my patio?" Michael's eyes widened at the question, before he tried to play it cool with a chuckle, "it's actually our patio."

"Michael!" I exclaimed, and looked around the room for something to hit him with. I came up empty handed, and just waited for him to explain himself. Michael pulled himself out of his bed before putting a hand on my shoulder, "now Luke don't be mad," as soon as he said that I shrugged his hand away, "Tegan-" I didn't even let him finish before walking out of the room. Michael called out to me, as I made my way to Tegan's room. It was understandable that he didn't want me to wake up his princess and all but I wasn't playing games. Once again I didn't bother knocking, "why the hell is their some muscle man on my fucking patio?"

"He's a friend, a friend that needs a place to stay," Tegan explained, and that's when I truly lost it. Another stranger that was going to come into my home - sorry Michael - our home, and disturb me. I looked around the room, or closet, for some kind of weapon of sorts. Murder would probably land me in prison, but then I would have a cell all to myself. Tegan flinched, and that's when Michael got in between things, "Luke back off man, it's okay," he snapped. I narrowed my eyes at him before dropping the curling iron that I had picked up. When Tegan said the next thing, I knew that she just couldn't keep her mouth shut, "plus I don't think Leah would like you so much after beating me with a curling iron," she joked, and my mouth parted in an 'o' shape.

"What the hell do you know about...Leah?" I choked up, it had been hard to say her name. Especially after hearing it a couple thousand times at her funeral. Michael had turned to face Tegan, probably with a terror in his eyes. I knew eventually he would slip up, and tell her something. Just not so soon, and you would think he would tell her to keep her mouth shut about it. Tegan looked even more scared than before, "she's your girlfriend, and I know I wouldn't want my boyfriend hitting other girls with curling irons," she emphasized on the whole curling iron part. This was insane, Michael hadn't even told her the whole story.