~Ava~

“Luke’s going to fuck everything up,” I sighed to Jay as I slouched in my seat a few days later—we both sat at our adjoined cubicles at the office. The secretary at the front—Rebecca—had come upstairs, inviting us out to a club tonight, and we’d agreed to go.

But at the moment, I just wanted to curl up on my bed and die.

“And why’s that?” Jay questioned, looking at me.

Her bright eyes were wider, her hair styles up in a bun. She wore jeans and a sheer white top, the complete opposite of my choice of attire today.

I had on dark clothing, my hair down and straightened for the day, with minimal makeup, just a hint of mascara and some concealer. My flats were black, and I wore my silver ‘A’ charm necklace around my throat.

I was nervous—and that was because I’d barely gotten anywhere with the boys. Ashton and Michael had been amazing, so welcoming to me, treating me as though nothing had changed, and for that, I was grateful.

But Calum and Luke—they were a different story.

Calum was so cold. This was saying a lot, because he’d always been the fun-loving one, the one who always wanted to bring me up and would constantly hug me and pick me up. He would endlessly be on a mission to make me laugh, trying out his cheesiest jokes on me and watching my reaction.

And I missed that so much—I wasn’t even afraid to admit it anymore.

I’d missed them all. There was no use in trying to deny it. I just had to figure out a way to get this job done without any emotions getting in the way, which was already proving to be a difficult task. I could only hope that things would get better and that Cal and Luke would open up to me soon.

Luke.

It was so weird. He’d chased after me the first time, but now it was like I didn’t exist. He hadn’t tried to even speak to me when I’d gone over to hang with the boys the other day—and it was odd, because I wasn’t used to that…and I didn’t think I’d ever get used to it.

Why did they have to be the breakout artists for this issue? And why did I have to be the intern assigned to them? This was like some cruel twist of fate.

I’d been doing absolutely fine without them—and now that they’d waltzed back into my life, I was a mess, all over the place.

I was utterly fucked.

“Because,” I sighed, “He and Calum won’t even look at me. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Get them drunk?” Jay joked, shaking her head to show that she wasn’t serious.

“Actually,” I began, a thought beginning to form in my head. I sat up straightly in my chair, something clicking in my mind, a plan beginning to reveal itself. I looked over at Jay, an eyebrow cocked, “That’s a pretty awesome idea.”

“I was kidding, Ava,” Jay sounded out clearly, her eyes growing horrified.

I laughed, “Just listen, okay? What if I did get them drunk? They’d spill a bunch of stuff, not to mention they’d tell me why they hate me so much! Genius.”

“Illegal,” Jay shot back.

“It’s not illegal,” I scoffed, shaking my head at her. She looked at me, completely astonished at my calm, nonchalant attitude, “That’s basically the equivalent of date-rape drugs!” she hissed at me, not wanting the people in the next cubicle to hear.

“No it’s not,” I laughed at her exaggeration and clapped my hands together; “It’s settled. I’d better text Michael and ask him.”

“What if they’re at the studio?” Jay asked me frantically, looking for anything to try and stop me. I shook my head, “They’re not. Michael gave me a schedule of the days, in case I ever wanted to stop by and hang out with him.”

“You’ve already got him wrapped around your finger, don’t you?” Jay smirked at me, sighing dramatically. I stuck out my tongue at her, “Damn right.”

Okay. A small part of me felt bad for doing this to Mikey. I was doing it to all of them. But what was I supposed to do? There were no alternatives here; everything was so black and white. And while I’d missed the boys that used to be my friends, my job was much more important now.

They’d be gone in eight months. And then everything would go back to the way it was. Except for the fact that Jay and I would have full-time jobs and we would be incredibly successful, receiving praise from our peers and even Elise Camp herself.

Eight months, and things would be back to normal. Eight months, and everything would be alright—eight months, and I would never see them again.

Eight months.

~*~

“Hey!” Rebecca smiled at me as I walked over to where she was seated at the bar. She was clutching a beer in her hand, and when she saw me, she ordered one for me as well. I slid into the chair beside her, and she studied me, “You look great.”

“Thanks,” I grinned. I’ll admit—I’d taken a bit of extra time to get ready tonight. I wore a black tank top and a pair of dark-wash denim shorts, combat boots adorning my feet. I had diamond studs in my ears, matching a silver bracelet around my wrist, which I fiddled with nervously. I wore eyeliner and a bit of mascara, making sure to dab on a tint of pink lipstick before I left my apartment.

The bartender brought over my beer, and I thanked him, taking a hearty gulp. Rebecca and I chatted for a few minutes—she had shoulder-length jet-black hair and bright green eyes—and she was really pretty. It almost made me feel inferior.

We chatted for a few minutes to catch up—that is, until someone tapped on my shoulder. I turned around to see Jay, her blonde hair curled lightly, wearing a pair of heels, white skinny jeans, and a sparkly black top. There were multiple bangles on her wrist, and I smiled at her, something she returned.

“Look who showed up,” she yelled to me over the music pumping through the club.

I let my eyes sweep the entire room—the bright lights and the dance floor, multiple tables, the DJ booth across the room. Finally, my eyes veered towards the entrance, only to find a few people walking in modestly.

“Is that 5 Seconds of Summer?” Rebecca gaped from beside me. I turned around, remembering that she was still here.

“Don’t get any ideas, Becks,” Jay shot her a devilish smile, “You’re twenty-three, remember that.”

“Oh, shut up Jocelyn,” Rebecca laughed and smiled genuinely, something I tried to return.

But the way she was eyeing the boys behind me put me on edge somewhat—I knew I shouldn’t feel that way—it wasn’t my business who they hooked up with, but some of my protective nature had forced itself out.

But I bit my tongue. Rebecca didn’t know that I used to be best friends with the boys—no one did, and I was determined to keep it that way. So instead, I obliged myself to return a pained smile before sliding out of my chair, grabbing my beer as I went, “I’m going to go say hello to them,” I announced, “I’ll be back.”

Rebecca and Jay both nodded, and I turned around, my eyes trained on Calum, Ashton, Luke and Michael.

As I wove through dancing crowds, blinking at the bright lights flashing around the club, deaf from the heavy beat of the music, I couldn’t help but to flash back to the last time I’d been so drunk I couldn’t even remember my own name.

I whimpered, lifting the heavy vodka bottle to my lips and taking another hearty swig before setting it down and looking up at the night sky. The stars twinkled teasingly as my vision blurred, and when I looked back down at the green grass under me, my head spun.

The soft flow of water from the creek only a few feet in front of me was soothing, making me giggled while tears trailed down my face. I was going to miss this creek. I was going to miss the grass; I was going to miss the warmth and the sense of home this place had always carried.

“Fuck, Ava,” someone grumbled suddenly from behind me, and drunkenly, I craned my head to look around.

“Luke!” I squealed, giggling again when I saw him. His mum’s station wagon was parked twenty feet away, and Luke was stalking towards me, looking angry. I was confused—what had I done wrong?

I just shrugged, grabbing the vodka again and chugging it, the taste burning its way down my throat. The sensation made my eyes water and more tears fall down my cheeks.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a hand came up from behind me, snatching the bottle away. Very intoxicated, my reflexes weren’t as quick and I looked around, reaching out to try and grab the bottle back, but it was no use.

“Hey!” I protested in a whiny voice, fumbling to my feet. When I was standing, my head launched itself off into yet another rampage, and my hands flew to my temples as I teetered on the spot, mumbling ‘whoa’ in a drawling voice.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Luke growled at me.

I looked up at him, still trying to regain my balance—everything was circulating around me. His beautiful blue eyes were hard, his mouth sewn into a tight frown. His blonde hair was pushed off of his forehead, and he was wearing all black clothing.

“Hey,” I pouted, “You swore. You have to—to give me my bottle back now.”

I reached forward clumsily, losing my balance as I did so. Luke dropped the vodka bottle—which was only a quarter-full—and held his arms out quickly to catch me. He supported me as I giggled uncontrollably in his arms, laughing at my own inability to walk.

“You’re an idiot,” he grumbled, “Why the hell do you seem to think that getting drunk is the answer?”

“Because it is,” I slurred.

Luke sighed, and without another word, he was turning around, leading me to the station wagon. I wobbled, and eventually, he just groaned, his arms coming up and sweeping me onto his chest, carrying me bridal-style.

“I’m going to puke,” I moaned, clutching at my stomach.

Luke just rolled his eyes, “Hold it in til we get home, or I’ll kill you—scratch that, my mum will kill you.”

“You’re cute,” I giggled, smiling up at him like a child. I wedged my left hand out of his tight hold on my body and poked at his cheek, wishing that he’d smile and show me his dimples. I could feel my tears beginning to dry on my face.

Luke opened the passenger door and set me down on the chair, swearing when he bumped his head on the top of the car—I just giggled.

“Blondie?” I asked him innocently, looking up at the top of the ceiling.

“Hold that thought,” he told me before closing the car door and crossing over to his side. He opened that door and slid in beside me, “Okay, what?”

“Why am I leaving again?” I wondered airily.

Luke sighed, “Because this is an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and you’re going to take it. And I’ll break up with you if you don’t.”

“No, you won’t,” I laughed, calling out his bluff.

He chuckled lightly as well, “Fuck no, I won’t. But you’re going to go anyways.”

That simple sentence made my eyes water again, and before I knew it, tears were cascading down my cheeks like waterfalls, and I was sniffling, burying my face in my head, my hair knotty and tangled, my cheeks puffy and stained from the dried salty tears.

“Aves—stop,” Luke told me sternly, grabbing my hands and pulling them away from my face. I just sobbed and squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to look at him.

“I’m just like my dad,” I whimpered, “I’m leaving you.”

“No,” Luke hissed. Within a moment, his hands were grasping at my hips and tugging me towards him. Awkwardly, we both managed to haul my body over the middle console of the vehicle and into Luke’s waiting lap. The steering wheel dug into my lower back, but I didn’t care.

“You’re nothing like your dad, darling,” Luke whispered to me, “You’re so perfect, and he’s—I don’t even want to finish that sentence.”

I barked out a dry laugh, my hands coming up to wipe at my eyes messily, willing the tears to disappear, but they just kept on coming.

“Ava, don’t ever compare your beautiful self to that bastard, again,” Luke ordered, and I just chuckled hollowly, “I’m the bastard. I’m the one with no father, remember? I wasn’t good enough for him, so he left. It’s my fault.”

“Shut up, Ava,” Luke looked like he was getting genuinely angry at the words that came out of my mouth. Good—I wanted him to be angry. Maybe if he decided to break it off with me now, it wouldn’t hurt as much when I left.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Luke muttered, and I realised that I’d said that last part out loud.

I just shook my head, “Blondie, I—,” I began to slur, but Luke cut me off by pressing his lips to mine.

“You taste like vodka,” he mumbled, and I giggled, feeling another mood swing approaching.

My hands disappeared into his blonde hair immediately, tugging on the strands and messing it up and his left hand cupped my cheek while his right snuck under my shirt, stroking the skin of my hip.

We continued to kiss for another few long moments before my hands fell down to his hips, toying with the hem of his shirt. He obliged, lifting his arms and letting me pull it off swiftly. I trailed my fingers down his chest, and he shivered.

“Push back,” I begged him, and he complied, reaching down to the lever of his seat and pulling it, pushing the chair back so that we were lying down. I fell squarely on top of him and giggled drunkenly, staring into his wide blue eyes. His cheeks were red and flushed, but the alcohol had upped my ego, making me feel confident.

I was going to miss this. I was going to miss the taste of his lips, the sweet smell of Old Spice, smelling like home. I was going to miss his bright blue eyes, the eyes that could pierce my own and turn my brain to mush. I was going to miss how insecure he was about his body, miss telling him that he was beautiful. I was going to miss the small amount of stubble on his cheeks after a few days of him avoiding shaving, and him claiming that he was macho because he had a beard now. I was going to miss the small bit of acne on his jaw, miss him talking animatedly about Mean Girls.

I was going to miss my Blondie so much.

I straddled Luke’s waist, crossing my arms over my body and grabbing the hem of my own shirt, before trying to pull it over my head. It got stuck halfway, and I whined childishly, but Luke just chuckled, helping me get it off all the way and tossing it into the back of the station wagon.

Once it was off, he swore at the sight of my baby pink lacy bra, and I just giggled seductively. I leaned down, pressing kisses to his neck and stopping to suck viciously at a certain spot on the side of his throat.

“Great,” he muttered when I moved away from the purpling mark, “If the boys see this, I’m fucked.”

I just laughed as I proceeded lower on his body, sucking harshly on his collarbone and making him tense before shimming down even further, running my fingers and lips all across his torso. Luke squirmed under me, and I could feel him growing against my thigh, making me smile satisfactorily.

“You’re so beautiful, Ava,” Luke told me. His hands reached for my wrists and he pulled my back up so that we were face-to-face.

Without a second thought, he kissed me and I pulled back teasingly, “You taste like vodka too now.”

“And whose fault is that?” he shot back, both of us smiling like idiots. The alcohol was clouding my judgement, making me do something I knew I’d regret in the morning, but I couldn’t stop, I wasn’t in control here.

I sat up on Luke’s lap, my hands snaking behind my back, my destination being the clasp of my bra. That’s when Luke’s eyes widened and he gripped my hips tightly, making me freeze. I looked down at him questioningly, and he shook his head.

“There’s no way in hell I’m taking advantage of you, Ava Marie Summers. No way in hell.”

The next morning, I’d been so embarrassed. Even now, two years later, I still felt my cheeks warm up at the thought as I walked over to where my four ex-best friends were standing, chatting with one another.

I was only a few feet away when I noticed a few girls walk up to them and ask them something. A moment later, one of them was taking a selfie with Ashton, the other with Luke, pressing a kiss to his cheek. I stomach did a flip, but I just blamed it on the beer.

Once the girls had left, I walked over to the boys, and tapped Mikey on the shoulder. He turned and broke into a smile once his eyes landed on me.

“Hey!” I yelled over the loudness of the music, “Glad you made it!”

“Wouldn’t miss it!” Ashton sauntered up to me, hugging me tightly. I smiled tenderly at him and shot a glance behind him, looking at Calum and Luke.

Calum was talking with a man, smiling warmly at him, and I couldn’t help but to let my lips grace up into a small smirk, finally glad that I’d seen him happy. He was always so angry and sad when I was around, and I didn’t want nor need that.

Luke was shuffling his feet awkwardly, his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes were cast down at the floor, but then they shot up, glancing at me quickly. I caught his gaze and sent him a small, friendly smile, but in response, he simply looked away.

I tried not to let that sting. I just needed them here to get them drunk and get them to spill things—that was it. The familiar coolness of the recording device clipped to my bra was evident, and I was ready to get some juicy information out of this band.

I turned towards Mikey and Ash, “Alright, well get something to drink! Let’s get drunk!”

Notes

Okay, so I'm writing fanfiction instead of studying for exams...in other words, I'm fucked.

But anywho, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I won't be updating again til next week, because there are exams then I'm going away for the weekend, so sorry about that! VOTE, COMMENT, SUBSCRIBE and all that shit! Please comment, I love hearing you guys!

Let's reach 65 votes, perhaps? Pleaaase? When we do, I might post a teaser of part 2! :)

~Stay beautiful, my loves~