𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑⁰¹ʰᵉᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍˢ✓

¹³stray

clementine

After the performance ended, I took a bow along with the band members, unplugged the bass, and hopped down the stairs, a wide smile plastered on my flushed face.

I could feel my heart racing more that I'd seen Luke rather than at the fact that I'd just performed to a crowd.

I took the bass off me and packed it back on its case, completely preoccupied with the thought of Luke rather than the performance. The minute I saw him, the nerves slowly faded as he kept smiling and giving me thumbs up - at one point even showing me a meme.

I locked the case and put it under the table where other bass and guitar cases were huddled.

When I turned, I was immediately met by a warm embrace along with a few pats in the back. "You were so damn good up there!" I recognised him as Cameron and I immediately returned the hug.

He pulled away and a bright smile on him. "Okay, we definitely have to get drinks." He said, looking around and gesturing for Amara and Harish to come over. "Let's hang by here for some time, try out some mediocre street food, then we have to go to that diner that opened two months ago, the one by third avenue - what was it called..."

"Carrows?" Amara replied.

Cameron nodded. "Ah! Yeah! Carrows. That one. I heard they have great vegan burgers down there."

I nodded as they talked about the diner, paying little attention to it as my mind wandered elsewhere. I was looking around, what for - I'm not sure. But my eyes catch bright blue ones and my heart stops for a second, seeing that he was making his way towards me.

I wiped my clammy hands onto my dress and fully turned towards Luke, coming over to my little group with the widest grin I've seen on him.

When he reaches, he just looks down at me for a second - and I look up. I'm pretty sure neither of us know what to say to each other.

"Clementine!" A voice cuts off our moment and we both turn to Ashton, who had just come over with Michael and Calum following behind. "We didn't know you played bass!" He leans in and gives me a hug and I quickly return it.

I awkwardly look back at Luke before turning my attention to Ashton. "And I didn't know you guys were coming to this carnival,"

My group had eyes wide in surprise at how I knew this internationally famous band. As they greeted them, they didn't ask about how we knew each other, probably already guessing they were my clients - and that if they asked anyway, I wouldn't be able to tell them due to the client privacy we agreed on.

We walked together, talking as we made our way out of the backstage and into the main of the park where the food stands and other shows were.

Ashton was in deep conversation with Amara and Cameron, and I'm pretty sure Michael and Calum were trying to convince Harish to let them join Reonide. It was an odd sight to see his friends and mine go well together, and I'm pretty sure people were staring at our oddity - or maybe just at the four well-known boys.

More and more people were starting to recognise them but nobody dared to come forward and ask for a photo or anything of the like - I suppose as an act of nervousness or respect for their privacy. But they still raised their phones to their faces, recording and taking photos of us as if we wouldn't notice.

Huh. So this is how it feels.

I feel my skin crawl at the thought of being stalked like this. I almost felt bad for the four boys, but I knew they must've known the downsides of living your dream.

Luke and I hung back, walking beside each other in silence as our friends illuminated conversation for us.

I don't know how it's gotten so silent between us. Two days of not talking and suddenly we don't know what to say to each other. We only look around in awkward spaces, pretending to be interested in some food stand or some crying child in the distance. Occasionally, I look at him and he looks at me, but upon realising that we have no words for the other, we look away as quickly and repeat the cycle of embarrassment.

"Did you like the meme?" He suddenly asks, and I'm certainly thankful he had the balls to say something-I surely don't, neither did I grow any in the thirty minutes of chance.

I look up at him and press back a smile, remembering how he showed me that turntable meme amidst Reonide's performance. I nod and chuckle at the boyish grin he had on. "I did, I very much did." Oh god, how do I keep this conversation alive? "The view up there was frightening, by the way. I should've asked you for advice."

"I don't really know what to tell you, Clementine," He laughs and looks down at his shoes.

God, say my name again. "Oh?"

He shrugs. "S'not that you need it anyway, you were great up there. You'd be an awesome performer." He smiles at me and I almost melt to my feet.

I feel my cheeks heat up at the compliment. "Thank you very much, but I don't think I'd do that again." I shake my head at the thought, dreading any day that I'd have to walk up a stage and perform to some fifty-something crowd. My anxious heart is meant to sit behind an easel.

He pouts and makes a frowning face. "Aw, why not?" He nudges my side and our hands touch for a second.

I ignore the warmth of his hand, yet yearning to hold his mine and intertwine our fingers and -

"It's scary up there, you should know best. I'm just meant to have my clients as my audience and my paintings as my music, not to an actual audience - so many people..." I cringe at the thought of performing to an arena and suddenly I have a higher respect for musicians. "If the crowd would've been any bigger, I would've broken down."

He laughs and I take a moment to take in him as a whole. By god, he's surely beautiful, no mistake in that. He has on a loose black button-up shirt, unbuttoned at the top two buttons, allowing me to see a bit of chest hair. To pair, he dons black jeans with high-top converse.

It isn't anything special but here I am thirsting like a fourteen-year-old.

He had left his hair as a tufted mess, blond curls going here and there yet managing to look effortlessly put together. Occasionally, a stray curl would fall in front of his eyes and it bothered me that he didn't try to put it back.

When we stopped at a food stand to buy some hotdogs, Luke sat down on a nearby bench to untie and retie his laces. When he finally looks back up, there's that curl again, there, right in front of his eyes and bothering me more than it was him.

I hated strands of hair that got in the way of my sight. It was one of my hatreds while painting. I never liked being disturbed amidst my working time, so that tiny little annoyance has become a grudge.

Instinctively and before I can fully think of what I'm doing, I'm reaching out and brushing it behind his ear. He looks back at me quickly and my hand brushes his cheek.

I awkwardly clear my throat and look back at our friends buying hotdogs. "Sorry," I said. "It was in your eye," I nervously laughed and crossed my arms in front of myself.

He says nothing, only smiling to himself and looking down at his twiddling hands.

What am I doing?

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happy update day !! ty all sm for 12k, im so so grateful for you readers who comment and vote and support me and PW here.

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