Wherever You Are // A Luke Hemmings fanfiction

Part 8

(Mikki POV)

I took a deep breath as I pushed open the black door of Cold Steel, a piercing shop down the road from Croke Park. The boys were getting their microphones fitted and sorted out before they performed their setlist to One Direction’s management, and the boys themselves. I knew they would all be nervous, obviously wanting the approval of some of the most powerful names in the music industry right now, but I’d calmed them all down before I’d snuck away quickly.

Luke’s words from yesterday were still ringing in my head. I couldn’t believe he’d called me boring. Then when I was thinking over it, I realised he was right; I always did what was expected of me. I had never done anything spontaneous or exciting in my life, I was a people pleaser, and I stuck to it. But that was something I was determined to change this summer.

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(Luke POV)

 “Well, if it isn’t our favourite little Australian lads.”

The four of us turned and grinned at the familiar voice of Harry Styles. I was the first to move forward and wrap my arms around the older boy, pulling him close for a hug. Despite the fact I considered the One Direction boys friends now, I was still so grateful to them for every opportunity they’d given us over the past year and a half, it was still so surreal. Plus, because of our respective bands’ busy work schedules, we didn’t get to see the boys as much as we’d like to, though I texted Harry and Niall most days.

“Okay, maybe not so little,” he chuckled. I’d grown a lot since we’d last seen the boys, and I knew it would be something everyone picked up on; I may have been the youngest on tour, but it hadn’t stopped me being the tallest. “God, you’re seventeen, ridiculously tall, and you’re still growing.” As we pulled apart, he reached out to tap the stubble on my jaw, shaking his head in disbelief. “And your facial hair grows at a ridiculous speed. Remind me, how are you younger than me?”

“It’s good to see you, mate,” I laughed, pushing his hand away from my face and grinning at him. He smiled back at me, before high-fiving Michael and Calum. But I raised my eyebrows in confusion as I saw Ashton’s face pale, not even looking at Harry as he looked at someone on the other side of the stadium. As I followed his gaze, I sighed in understanding; Gemma Styles, Harry’s older sister, who Ashton had the biggest crush on.

He’d hung out with her a lot over the past year, during the Take Me Home tour they were practically joined at the hip, and I knew that despite the fact he’d avoided answering our questions, he’d met up with her one-on-one when we were in the UK. She was blonde now, and I had to say it really suited her. “God, Ash, just go say hi to her,” Michael said, pushing the older boy so he stumbled forward slightly. “It’s not like you’re strangers.”

Ashton looked over at Harry; he’d always been nervous about how the older boy felt about his feelings for Gemma, but Harry simply nodded his head and gestured for him to go. We all watched as Ashton walked over to Gemma, tapping her lightly on the shoulder, his eyes widening in surprise as Gemma threw her arms around him. “I’m happy he makes her happy,” Harry said, smiling at the sight of them. “Gem’s been with a few shit guys in the past. I know Ashton’s a good guy and he’ll treat her well.”