Foreign Exchange // Punk Luke Hemmings

"But mom, I don't want to have to live with another guy!" I yelled in frustration.

"Your brother wants to do this, and we have enough space and money, so you're going to deal with it or find somewhere else to stay!" Her face was bright with anger as she yelled right back.

"Maybe I will!" I screamed as I stormed up to my room, pulling out my phone as I went.

"Don't you walk away from me young lad-" Music drowned out the rest of her words. I slammed my door and threw myself onto the giant beanbag chair in the corner, burying my face in the plush material.

I've seen pictures of this boy coming to live here. He's gorgeous, with golden hair, a jawline that could grate cheese, and smoldering, frosty blue eyes. He looked like a typical Aussie, lean and beautiful.

But this boy wasn't all sunshine and surfing. Tattoos laced his arms, his neck, his sides. He had piercings, giving him a rugged look. This boy was bad news, he's a heart breaker. A bad boy.

And his name is Luke Hemmings.