She Looks So Perfect

Chapter Four

Luke's POV

Her name is Elizabeth, like the famous queen. Ironically, she's my queen. The way her caramel hair falls to her ribcage, hugging her, curling around itself. The way her eyes, a nice shade of brown, threaten to spill her secrets, her struggles, but the good times outweigh the bad, and the sparkle outshines the dark. Her eyelashes curling to the point of infinity, making every woman envious. Her hips, curvy and straight at the same time. Her height, reaching me at my shoulders, makes her the perfect height for me. She had braces until she was 15, and that was the cutest thing. She hated them, said she would rather have no teeth than wear them another second, but I liked them on her. But that was before I saw her without them. Fuck, she's perfect.

I wish I could be with her, but I can't.

The boys hate her. Okay, they don't hate her. But they might as well kick me out of the band if I tell them about us- they aren't fond of their memories of her.

I see her all the time when I'm back home, but trying to see her behind the boys' backs is so hard. They literally want to practice the whole time we're home.

We were laying under the stars atop my roof. It was July, and the temperature made for a sticky, sweaty cuddle. I laid out many blankets for cushion, and I even took some alcohol from my parents. We talked about the funny things in life, how nothing is really fair.

But there was one fair thing in my life; her. She was everything and more to me, and now no one can know about us.

I popped open the bottle of some kind of alcohol and we took turns sipping from the glass. We started to get loopy, so I decided it was best for us to climb down from the roof. We hopped inside, the alcohol starting to run wild in our veins. She laid on the couch, talking about the most random shit imaginable.

The boys rammed in, hyped up and ready to practice. I wasn't really in the performance mood, and Elizabeth wasn't the type to share me. They started arguing, the boys claiming they needed me to practice, and her claiming it was a harmless date, and it needed to be left alone. I couldn't say I agreed with either one of them. As the fight progressed, I decided it was better for myself, and them, if they all went home, including Elizabeth, and we just practice the next day. They were not having that.

Elizabeth's temper excelled, as she rose from the couch, getting into their faces, "Do you guys not know the meaning of respect? This is my boyfriend, and we're on a simple date, having alone time, and you decide it's okay to barge in, expecting him to leave me for you?" Michael was taken back by her sudden choice of expression, throwing back, "And you think he wants to spend time with someone who can't handle a little drink and change in plans?"

She instantly started crying, her bloodshot eyes progressing in red. I tried to catch her by the arm, but she was already gone out the door. After her departure, I stared intently at the boys, "What the fuck, Michael?" I directed my hate at him, when in reality, it wasn't solely his fault. They all barged in, and Elizabeth overreacted.

Michael didn't have a response, but he did look a bit sorry. Ash grabbed Michael's forearm, pulling him to the side. He stepped up, his brows knitting together in disgust, "You know what? I didn't fucking ask for this, Luke."

"Ask for what?" my voice was strong, stern.

"This! We have a good thing going, our band. I know you want to be with her and all, but we need practice! We need to write, we need to be meeting with consultants and producers! You can't be going off with her every time you get bored with us or whenever she calls! I'm sorry mate, not to say that we come before love, but this is important to all of us."

That was the breaking point; I was irate, irked, frustrated, boiling, "Really? Have you made one call, one appointment with a consultant? Have you called a single person about our advances? And to say that you're not putting yourself before love and demanding me, how dare you? How fucking dare you try to say you aren't putting yourselves before her, the love of my life, when all you want from me is practice? What about what I want? This band means so much, believe me, but let's be honest, how long is it going to last? Two, five, ten years? And how long does love last? So yeah, the band means a lot, and you guys do too, but what about her and her feelings?" My face was burning, and my eyes were stinging.

I hated this, having to pick between two things I love, it felt like picking which parent to catch as they both fell off a cliff, it was nearly traumatizing.

"I'm glad to know you picked a bitch over your band," Calum said, walking out the door.

I ran at him, spinning him around and piercing his right jaw with my fist. We both immediately regretting our actions, as Michael and Ashton rushed out, not wanting a piece of the fight.

And people ask why I sleep around.