boxer ⋆ luke hemmings ✔️

02. Row A, Seat 7.

SOPHIE
"Can you see him?" I have to stop myself from staring at Luke, instead scanning my gaze around the arena. Two people pummel each other right in the middle of the ring as Luke stands tall next to me, a gym bag clutched in his left hand.

I feel bad. He was probably on his way home before Eddie and I caught his attention.

I kinda wanna ask him why he's still sticking around. I surely would have gone by now- I would have left this place the second I had the chance to.

"No," I sigh. Calum's tall, but so are the people in the crowd. The only thing I remember is that we had second to front row seats. "I know where he might be, though," I say, starting to walk away.

"Do you know exactly?"

I shake my head. This causes Luke to shake his own, making me stop walking, "Then you're not going anywhere."

"What?" my eyebrows furrow. Mostly out of confusion, but also a little out of annoyance; he has no right to tell me where I can and can't go.

"Stay here. Don't get in between the crowds, you'll get trampled," Luke says plainly, taking his phone out of his pocket. It's not the most luxurious thing; it has an old-fashioned keypad and a fading screen.

I look at it with a frown because I thought, being a boxer and all, that he'd be able to afford something way better. "I can go by myself. I know where he is," I say.

"You just said that you didn't,"

"Well, now I do,"

"You know what row?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at his phone, though it's aimed at me. I can walk away right now without giving him a proper answer, but a small part of my head argues that he won't let me. "What seat? How far from the ring?"

"Why are you asking me so many questions?" I ask defensively, crossing my arms.

Like he did with my earlier statement, Luke ignores me, "Stay here," he mutters, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

I'm just about to ignore him and walk away when I hear him whistle, finger in the air to beckon someone over. I look to where he's pointing; my eyes landing on a blond man that looks very much like Luke.

"Jack!" he yells, over the busy screeching of the crowd in front of us, "Get over here,"

"What you need help with?" the man called Jack asks, and I can see why Eddie got them so easily mixed up earlier. They look so alike, it's astonishing. "Shouldn't you be getting home?"

I realise that Luke has a hard time answering things people ask of him, for he takes no notice of Jack's question, "What are you up to?"

"Nothing much. Just sorting out the pads in the backroom,"

"You got space back there?"

"Yeah, yeah. Couches and all. You should know,"

"No ring girls?"

I divert my eyes, arms still folded as I stare on at the crowd. Unless Calum has suddenly shrunk in both width and height, making it impossible for me to see him, I think I've gone blind.

Jack and Luke talk for some time, their voices low yet decipherable. I choose not to listen to them, despite picking up on a few things from time to time.

"You want me to what?"

"Just until the arena's cleared," I hear Luke say. I gaze on at the people currently fighting, sucking in a short breath as one of them gets thrown against the rubber ropes.