Lucky In Love- A Sam and Luna Fanfic

Lucky In Love- Story 1, Chapter 3

LUNA'S POV

The first thing I notice upon entering the living room is the disgruntled looks Lola and Lana are sporting as they depart up the stairs. It is no surprise when--upon looking towards the front door--I see Lori with her arms around another individual. Bobby, her boyfriend.

"Oh, Bobby Boo-Boo Bear," I hear her gush openly. She squeezes her boyfriend with a desperation I would have never thought possible, weeping openly. Bobby moved to Great Lakes City to live with his extended family, so he visits any moment that he's in Royal Woods. This was one of those available moments.

As much as Lori being happy makes me happy, I can't help but feel all the more lonely. So, when I saw Sam standing outside my bedroom door this afternoon, I felt an admiration above anything I had experienced that past month. I was almost as if she knew I longed to see her. Just knowing that she is taking the time to take notes for me during class and, overall, just thinking about me makes my heart swell.

"I was wondering if you'd let me escort you to the open-mic that's premiering outside the Royal Woods town hall tonight." Bobby states. There's a dreamy, almost far-away look in Lori's eye. "I think it would be a great way to spend the night. Besides, Ronnie Anne is taking over the mercado while I'm gone." Lori is quick to reply. "Oh Bobby! You're the sweetest thing ever. Of course I'll join you." Lori is absolutely ecstatic; in the present moment, it seems as if nothing will put an end to her constant smiles and giggling. Absolutely nothing.

"Maybe we can sing a duet," Bobby pipes up. "Ooo, yes! And we'll do an improvised dance routine." Lori adds on, squealing with sheer excitement. "And then I'll dip you down into my loving arms as the stars shine above us and fireworks go off in the courtyard."

The love-y dove-y fantasies of my sister and her boyfriend are enough to make me gag. It is going through my mind that I will never--under any circumstance--be that cheesy with Sam, when I pause. In a way, I relish the idea of us being on that stage together, Sam's gorgeous face illuminated by the fireworks erupting colorfully above us. And her singing! So melodious, like an angel that halts all other noise... movement... chaos. A voice that could make the whole world fade around us, so it's only me and Sam. Even my own fantasies make me sick, though not in the same way that Lori and Bobby's do. It wasn't what we were to do, but how we were to execute it. If I even manage to get her onto the stage, what will I do then?

The very idea of me questioning my confidence on stage feels foreign to me. Never once have I opted to worry over such things; usually the passion comes naturally and flows through my music. Sam changes that. I can never explain how or why, but having her in the picture ties my stomach into knots, preventing me from just, well... going with the flow.

Lynn skids to a halt outside the kitchen, her face immediately taking on extreme disappointment. "Hey, you're not the pizza delivery guy." she states, pointing a finger in Bobby's general direction. Bobby's features take on that of confusion. "As far as I know, I'm not..." He states, contemplating and choosing his words with care. Lori rolls her eyes accusingly, which serves as a cue for Lynn to exit the room.

"Here Bobby, come with me to my room. I think I may have discovered how to facetime you on my Pop Pop's old laptop. It's literally more than ten years old, but the more I can see you, the better!" Lori steers Bobby towards the stairs. Without much forethought, I lunge towards my sister. Before Lori can rest her foot on the first stair, I've got her arm locked in a firm grip. My behavior may have come off as a little aggressive, for my sister whips around, her eyes wide with befuddlement and outraged alarm. She tries to pull away, but I hold her wrist desperately.

"Luna, let go of me-"

"Lori!"

We both speak at the same time, and Lori ceases her struggling, too curious now to put up a fight. "Lori," My voice is suddenly stern, modified to a low rasp. "When is the open mic?" Lori's face says everything. There is a look of pure "why did you stop me to ask such a stupid question" on her face. "6:00," Lori firmly states, wrenching her hand from my grasp. I didn't realize until that moment that I had kept a firm hold on Lori to the point where my knuckles had turned a milky white. It is as Lori is storming up the stairs that I mouth a silent apology.