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eight

eight// fae dalton

rachel was still sleeping. (an: relatable)

it was three in the afternoon.

"RACHYY!" i screech in an impossibly high pitch. she shot up, rubbing her eyes.

"what" she grumbled, preparing to lie back down. oh no she doesn't.

"we're going to the beach!" i exclaim, hopping onto her small bed. she grunts as i land on her leg.

"no we're not. its like seven in the morning." she sighs, sitting up, running her fingers through her long brown hair and yawning again. how could she be tired?

"okay, one: yes we are. i already made plans. two: it's a quarter past three." i annunciate.

within ten minutes we were packed and were on the road to the beach.

the day was beautiful. los angeles was perfectly sunny, and slightly breezy which made the palm trees sway.

"should i vlog this?" rachel asks.

"no, wait, you should. i already have a video ready." she adds, handing me my camera.

as fun as a job it is, being a youtuber is a lot of work. I mean, im not complaining but typically it's overlooked as a lot of fun- which it is- but we do have a job.

i take it out and film the beautiful day, wanting to take in every minute.

"all right, now film me!" rachel butts in, smiling. i giggle and do as she says.

we do some goofy things but then reach the designated beach, hot sand in our toes.

"i don't see them anywhere but-"

i was cut off by a large beach ball knocking over the umbrella where we had set up our stuff. ugh, what a pain.

"hemmo! look what you made me do!" an oddly thick australian voice giggles.

"bloody hell, ash! you knocked over those cute girls stuff." another deeper voice complains.

i turn around to see three long boys, all with apologetic faces. a moment of silence is addressed. i study them through my aviators.

i recognize them. but they don't recognize me.

"hi, ms.," luke starts.

"uh we're really sorry and-"

"no! this is unacceptable. im going to call my motorcycle gang husband and he's going to beat you kangaroos up!" i say, trying not to laugh and to disguise my accent. rachel sends me a look, clearly she doesn't know who they are.

all three of there faces pale at my chastising. that's when I realize something. i peel off my glasses.

"where's michael?" i ask, totally ditching the entire motorcycle wife role, not seeing the bright red headed boy.

rachel is staring dumbfounded, (who i assume is) calum is frozen, ashton is laughing a contagious laugh, and luke is smiling.

"fae dalton? rachel chandler? holy shit." calum mutters, running his hands through his hair and seemingly flexing his bare body in front of rachel. ha!

"hey...wait... five seconds of summer, yeah?" rachel states out of the blue. i squint my eyes.

"you know them?" i ask as if they weren't standing right next to us.

"sure, sure," she thinks for a second. "shes looking really perfect standing there da da da underwear!" she sing-talks very badly and off key. i laugh, maybe i did know them then.

"ugh, she's a fake fan!" ashton groans into luke's shoulder and laughs.

luke offers a hand to rachel, introducing himself. ashton puts the umbrella back up, and calum is scanning the area for the red haired boy.

"ah, i see him." calum mutters softly.

"where?" i ask, wanting to see him before he sees me.

calum points toward an icecream cart flocked with little kids, and of course, a six foot tall man. that could be considered creepy on his part, but there he was. red hair and all.

i scamper over, trying to be quiet. i make my way to the cart and jump on his back. he catches me.

"luke, come on man, get off me...i told you i don't like this game!" he complains, yet seems to be smiling.

"oh... this is awkward." i say, hopping off, trying to be serious.

he turns toward me and his jaw drops.

"fae!?" he exclaims. i wrap my arms around him in a tight hug.

"it's so good to meet you!" i say into his shoulder.

i pause, backing out of the hug.

"also, your hair is red."

-

filler i guess ugh sorry u deserve more love u- x em