start over // lrh

prologue

luke

My head was about to explode any minute as I sat in a vacant room situated on floor 15 of Capitol Records, it had extremely bright lights that made my head hurt. I wasn't a big fan of light, I liked things darker and I reckon my mates were sick of my nyctophylia.

Sitting there was testing my patience. I watched people come and go, leaving me unnoticed.

The room was so uncomfortably hot that I felt a drop of sweat trickle down my spine. I took off my jacket and placed it on the back of the expensive chair I was sitting on. They could spend racks on the furniture but couldn't fix an air conditioner, this institution needed help.

I had been sitting here for thirty minutes now, even though it felt like forever. I got called in for a private talk, by my lovely manager, Mariah of course. I had groaned into the phone to show how enthusiastic I was about another one of these meetings.

Chugging two bottles of water straight to sober up hadn't helped at all, considering the fact that I now felt a strong urge to pee.

Mariah had been my manager for about two years, and we didn't get along well, especially since, those events. But who could blame her, I had been a jerk to her when all she wanted for me was to get my shit together.

However, she has despised me for being dirty minded ever since we met. It's because the first thing I ever said to her was "nice orbs" while complementing her striking blue eyes.. Now she never forgets to bring that into every conversion. It wasn't my fault that she thought I was talking about her boobs.

I took a few sips from the last water bottle left sitting in on the table my right, which I knew would bot help. I really would have to use the shitty toilets of this building if I didn't stop. God knows what type of diseases they hosted.

The pounding in my head worsened and I realized I really needed to take a piss. I was about to leave, knowing I would get into trouble when Mariah walked in.

"Ah! look who's here?" Mariah's voice rang through as she made a dramatic entrance in her four inch pencil heels. She would never stop wearing those, just to annoy me.

"Nice to see you too, Hemmings", she said in a clipped tone.

I looked up to make eye contact, and then I saw. Her blue eyes had worn out to a dull shade of grey, and bags had started to form under her eyes. She was really stressed out about my drinking problem and me not investing myself into a new project.

Ever since my breakup, she has been dropping psychiatrist and therapy center cards in my mail.

I appreciated her concern but sometimes it became too much.

She sat next to me crossed legged, in one of the same expensive chairs placed on my right, only a table between our chairs. She stared at the empty water bottles.

"I thought you would like to sober up before we got to the serious talk".

She rubbed her temples and then huffed, trying to muster up what she wanted to say. Her expression told me that whatever going to come out of her mouth wasn't going to be pleasant.

"So..."

"This -whatever's up with you needs to stop, Hemmings", she said in a low, but stern voice. Her eyes were fixed on my face and I felt as if she was going to bore holes through my head. The woman was scary when she was furious.

"I don't know what you're talking about", I said, shrugging it off nonchalantly.

"You can't get away with this, and you know that"

I already wanted to end this discussion, but Mariah began speaking once again.

"Look i know you're still super cranky over the fact, that your so called girlfriend dumped-"

"It wasn't like that, Mariah"

"I know what it was like, and as far as I know, she never loved you".

My blood started to boil as soon as the words came out of her mouth. Why did she always have to bring her into all my problems.

"This is not about her, stop pushing her into-"

"Watch your tone", she said warningly.

"You're saying this because you wanted me to date someone that would get us into the spotlight and become a fucki-", I began once again but she cut me off, standing up.

'NO! YOU LISTEN TO ME LUKE HEMMINGS, YOUR REPUTATION HAS BEEN TARNISHED, PEOPLE ARE TALKING AND IT IS BAD. EVEN YOUR PHYSICAL AND MANTAL HEALTH IS AT STAKE HERE. THIS BEHAVIOUR NEEDS TO END NOW, I WON'T LET YOU RUIN YOURSELF", She yelled into my face, her finger raised at me.

It wasn't the first time we had a talk like this, but it had never turned into a fight. I could tell through her expressions she was serious this time.

She stepped away, breathing in. Her face was still red with anger.

"You listen to me, Hemmings. You are going to Horning, Norkfolk in England for some period of time and staying with one of my trusted counselors, so you can relax, be away from the spotlight, quit drinking and focusing and your music. And most importantly, moving on".

She said, sitting back in her chair, a gesture showing she was done talking.

"You mean like a therapy, but for months. Jesus Christ". I said rubbing my eyes, this was ridiculous.

"I am totally fine, see" I stared into her eyes as as if this would prove my absurd point, but we both knew I was wrong. I could simply refuse but that would mean she would talk to my mom about it. I didn't want that because I had been ignoring her for months since all that happened and I didn't want her to see me suffering like this.

"Luke, I am done talking here and you will be leaving tomorrow, okay? And I make myself very clear that their are going to be no changes in this plan, you can come back when you get better and stop smashing things around", she said, her eyes softened.

" And please get some sleep, your eyes are blood shot", she added further.

"Fucking great", i mumbled as I got up, snatching my jacket from one of the goddamn expensive chair and walking out of the room, bot glancing back at her once. And I thought things couldn't get worse than they already were.

***

a/n: worst prologue ever

kinda hate this but it gets better trust me