Pretending to Be Luke Hemmings

lucy

I stayed in bed all day, wondering what he was up to. Luke, I meant. Even though I had texted him, I still felt that things weren't going to be the same ever again.

I hurt him. I felt awful for hurting him. Now I know the way he feels about me and I still turned him down and ran away without explaining myself. My feelings were jumbled up; I was just confused about everything.

Around noon, there was a knock on the bedroom door. "Luke, lunch is ready."

"Mum, I'm not hungry," I mumbled, pulling the blankets closer to my body.

I could tell Liz was worried, even from the other side of the door. "But you haven't even eaten breakfast."

"I know," I said. "I'm not hungry. I just... don't feel well."

I hear her sigh and walk away. Relieved that I won't be bothered for a while longer, I closed my eyes and attempted to fall asleep for what felt like the millionth time since I stepped into this room last night. But right now it seemed like it was impossible.

Whenever I closed my eyes, his bright blue eyes that replicated mine would be haunting me.

After a few minutes or so, there was another knock on the door. I groaned, "Mum, please stop forcing food on me. I'm not hungry."

"Actually, it's me, dude." Michael.

I sat up in the bed, immediately fetching for the wig and the binder. "What are you doing here?"

"Just let me in," he pleads, already seeming to know that I would put up a fight.

"Okay, just hold on a minute," I spoke, looking in the mirror. I looked like Luke but I also looked like crap; I didn't really put much effort into my appearance. Maybe this is what Luke looks like now; hurt and heartbroken.

Ugh. I just can't stop thinking about him, can I?

I opened the door and as soon as Michael stepped inside, he took one single look at me and says, "Damn, Luke. You look like shit."

"Thanks," I grumble sarcastically, crawling back into bed. "I certainly feel like it, too."

Michael lays down next to me, giving me the respectful bit of space between us. "What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I huffed, wishing that I could disappear out of nowhere.

Michael sighed. "I've never seen you like this, dude. Your eyes are red from tears, your hair is messy, you smell a bit probably from lack of a shower, and you haven't eaten. I'm really fucking worried."

"Where are Calum and Ashton?" I questioned.

"I don't know. They don't know I'm here," he informs me, shrugging his shoulders. "Please tell me what's wrong with you, now."

"Fine," I muttered. "I got into a fight with my girlfriend."

He nodded his head. "Okay. What was the fight about?"

His tone wasn't demanding or filled with envy (or joy, considering certain circumstances); it was filled with slight curiosity and complete, genuine concern. It was quite nice, to not see him act all insane over me for once.

Processing the question in my head, I let my words slip past my lips. "I thought she was cheating on me, and that she loves somebody else."

Michael raised his eyebrow. "Is she? Cheating on you, I mean."

"I don't know," I said. "I confronted her about it and she got pissed off for accusing her for such a thing but I looked into her eyes and they told me one thing; yes."