aggression | luke hemmings

Chapter Seventy Seven

Luke's POV

I'm panicking.

I woke up and Becca wasn't there. There are noises, that sound a whole lot like pages turning in a book, downstairs as I pace the perimeter of the room stupidly, and I didn't even bother to see if it was Becca or not.

My head is hurting a lot, I probably got drunk with the boys again. I'm just really worried and I can't think straight. I grab fistfuls of my hair and try to recall the events of yesterday. I feel like I freaking woke up with amnesia.

Nope, nothing.

Finally focusing correctly, I storm out of the room and walk downstairs. In the lounge, Ashton is sleeping underneath Calum. Brooke is sitting at the table, leafing through a magazine. There is a bottle of ibuprofen on the table, a glass of water, and a cherry chapstick. I guess it's Brooke's.

"Morning," Brooke yawns at me, sleepily rubbing her eyes.

"Hey," I nod and take a pill. Considering I have no water for myself at the moment, and Brooke is pretty great friends with me, I take a sip of the water in the glass on the table and immediately taste cherry chapstick. It tastes familiar. I put the glass down and try to remember where it's familiar from. Sigh, the frustrations of intoxication.

I lean against the counter and cross my arms, closing my eyes as well.

Then it dawned on me.

"Is that yours?" I ask Brooke, pointing at the lip balm.

"Yes...?"

"Did you wear it last night?"

"Yes..."

"F*CK!"

Calum groans on the couch and stands up. "What's with the yelling, Luke?" He huffs.

"Where the hell is Becca?!" I shout, ignoring his question.

"I don't know."

I'm screwed.

"Michael's the only one who isn't here, so ask him," Calum suggests as he pours himself water and grabs a pill. Smart idea. I run upstairs and grab my phone off my nightstand and scroll to Mike's name in my contact list.

"Hey Luke," Mike responds.

"Hey Mike, d'you reckon you know where Bec is?" I ask him.

"What're you talking about? I thought you knew that she left last night?" Michael asks, obviously just as thunderstruck as I am.

"What?" I gape. This cannot be happening. "What exactly do you mean by 'she left'?"

Michael inhales deeply. "Come over here, man. Or-- No, can I go to your flat and vent to you about it?"

"As long as you're here as soon as possible," I sigh, hanging up. I'm carked. Just by the tone of Michael's voice tells me that something is wrong, very wrong.

I hear Ashton and Brooke and Calum yakking downstairs about some new film showing in theaters soon. I don't go down and join them because I can't lose the thought of something bad that happened to Becca. It was obviously me, or else why would she leave me?

Michael knocks on my bedroom door and walks inside it. I stop pacing in circles and sit on the bed. "Tell me what happened!" I abruptly command.

"Don't get me wrong, Luke...We were all hammered there and according to Becca, she was out with friends for the elapse. She told me that uh, you were kissing um...Brooke?"

No wonder I felt something about that stupid cherry chapstick. My mouth falls open and my breath hitches in the back of my throat. I did what?!