It's been two days since the party. Two days since one of the most surreal nights of my life. You couldn't blame me for still feeling a little hung-over.

The band were pretty impressed with our little performance so they made sure to invite us for a little studio session with them in their studios before they left that night.

I pull out all my clothes from their neat rows and hangers, trying to find something to wear. It was the middle of August and New York City's heat was off the charts this week. I had more clothes than I knew what to do with but I still couldn't find anything when I needed to.

I mean, what do you wear to a jam session with the hottest band on the planet? Yes, I was a qualified fashion designer and makeup artist but I made other people look good, not myself.

Also, I needed to stop talking to myself.

I finally settle for my favourite pair of jeans and a singlet that says The 1975 on it. I loved that band with a vigour so I reckon I might as well parade it to the world. Matty Healy could sweep me off my feet any day. It takes me another ten minutes to locate the shoes I want and by the time I'm ready, Addy is yelling for me at my front door again. "Are you ready? We're going to be late!"

"Coming!" I shout back, taking a quick final look in the mirror, tripping on stray clothes, and almost falling to my death. That's money wasted on six years of Ballet class.

"Ooh, you look good." Addy compliments from the doorway. Her hair is tied back from her face and she's in a floral print dress. "You do know that what you're wearing right now is giving me no chance right?" I snicker, locking the door behind me.

"Do we need to have this conversation again? You know you won't win." she raises an eyebrow, trying to give me a serious look and failing. She was always complaining and lecturing me about how insecure I was being.

"Nope." I shake my head and we both end up grinning at each other. This was going to be a good day.

_____

We're parked in front of the studio, waiting for the girls to show up so we could go in together but then I get a text from Montana.

"Babe we're running late! Katelyn is having a miniature crisis. Be there in 15. Apologise to the boys for us!"

"Okay! Get here soon!" I text back and get out of the car with Addy, heading towards the studios. The sun was out shining brightly and I sigh at the warmth on my exposed skin—the busy sounds of New York City behind us. A figure steps out at the same time we walk in, crashing into Addy. "Ow!"

"Shit, Adelaide...I'm so sorry! I didn't see you coming in. I'm such an idiot, are you okay?" Ashton frowns. I don't think he dragged in any air during that sentence.

"I'm all good. It's good to see you." Addy grins up at him. A look passes between them. A look that meant she had some major explaining to do later.

Ashton finally notices I'm there too after a few seconds of them staring into each other's souls. "Eraaa!" he drawls and I wonder if this nickname is going to stick. "It's good to see you homie, how ya doing?"

"I see Michael let you in on the nickname—" I roll my eyes to feign annoyance "—sorry but the band is running a little late. Some sort of girl crisis." I hug him, giving an apologetic look.

"It's completely fine. I was just heading out to grab us all some snacks anyway," he glances at Addy.

"I'll come with!" Addy responds quickly.

Ashton smiles at that. "The boys are in studio three, just walk down the hallway and you'll see the doors marked."

"Alright, see you in a few." I wave, walking in but not before having a quick eye conversation with Addy. We were having the talk of all talks later.

I walk through the corridor, passing studios and people working about but then I stop short as I see a small figure with a high ponytail through a glass. Ariana Grande was casually perked on a stool inside singing into a microphone. Wow.

I keep moving forwards before they think I'm stalking someone and spot room three. I knock on the door and walk in but looking around I don't see anyone straight away.

"What are you doing here?" A voice asks abruptly.

I turn around to see Luke seated on the couch in a dimly lit corner.

"Hey to you too, uh...you guys invited us here, remember?" I smile.

"Oh, right," he mutters, rolling his eyes.

Ignoring his disinterest, I decide to make polite conversation. "So...um...is everything ready for the tour?"

"The teams working on it, we just have to pack and get on the bus." he huffs like he couldn't care less. This was the band's fourth headlining world tour according to Google. They've been on so many tours I doubt it hardly phased them anymore.

Luke looked extremely tired for some reason. "Are you alright?" I ask, a bit concerned.

He gives me a pissed off look in return. "Do I look like I'm not alright to you?"

Someone was bitter.

"Look, I don't know what your issue with me is Mr Hemmings, but I don't appreciate your hostile attitude. I'm just trying to be polite here." I point out.

He rolls his eyes at me. "You British chicks are so polite. Where's the rest of your wannabe punk girls?"

I feel my anger raise its ugly head. "What did you just say? And don't fucking roll your eyes at me." I snap, but then falter surprised at my choice of words. I never spoke this way to anyone.

He looks taken aback for a second. "I don't repeat myself and I'll roll my eyes at whoever the fuck I want, whenever the fuck I want." he hisses, getting up off the couch.

"We are not wannabe punks, your band invited us here in case you don't remember and for your information, don't talk about my friends like that ever again!" I yell, pointing a finger at him. I couldn't fathom where the sudden anger inside me was coming from.

He stops in his tracks...his face changing into an angry sneer. "I don't like people telling me what the fuck I can do and cannot do. Especially not these days."

"Yeah? Well, I'm tired of your shitty attitude, I've been a fan of this band for years, I know for a fact that you're not okay after your breakup with Ana and I was just trying to be friendly. There's nothing I did wrong. You don't have to be so bitter."

He closes the space between us in two strides, grabs my hand and pulls me towards him. Before I can react, his lips are on mine. Bolts of pure electricity run through me as he bites my bottom lip softly, despite the anger in his movements. It makes my toes curl.

I feel myself kissing him back for a second. No...This is wrong. I pull away from him and shove at his chest. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I clamour, stepping back until my legs hit a table.

He gives me a sly look. "Unless that's what you want from me, don't bother asking me how I'm doing because I don't want your sympathy or your stupid comments about my relationships, got it?"

"—and frankly, I don't even want to see your face right now." he spits out in what I'm sure was his best venom laced voice.

I'm a strong girl. I've been through way too many things to have a breakdown in front of this guy...a guy I spent a good part of my teenage years loving.

You will not cry now.

"You can go to hell." I sneer and walk out the door. I retrace my steps back to the car as fast as my feet would take me, my heart pounding mercilessly in my chest. Getting in, I lean against the steering wheel as my hands start to shake with the anger building up inside me.

You will not cry. Keep it together.

I pull out of the parking lot and race towards home. The streets were busy as usual, but I didn't care. I was trying to avoid what was about to happen.

You will not cry, you will not cry.

My phone starts to ring, jolting me out of my trance.

Incoming call: Addy

A stubborn tear slips free. I ignore her and keep driving.

---

Luke's Point Of View

Shit, shit, shit. What the fuck are you doing? I pull at my hair as hard as I can, pacing around the studio furiously.

That girl drives me crazy. Her name, her face...

What was wrong with me? I drop onto the couch and put my head in my hands.

I ruin everything.

The door opens and Calum rushes into the studio with Michael close behind.

"Dude, what the hell man? We just saw that girl Sierra all but run out of this place, and she sure as shit didn't look happy," he says, accusation raw in his statement.

I remain silent.

"Oh no." Michael groans. "You didn't! Tell me you didn't."

Looking up at him, I manage a crude smile. "I just did." I see him and Calum rush back out of the door in the corner of my eye. They're never that worried about my fucking feelings.

I throw the glass nearest to me at the wall and watch as it shatters into a thousand shiny pieces. That's better.

"You don't deserve any of this." My own conscience whispers back at me.

---

I walk into my apartment and close the door behind me very slowly. Afraid that any sudden movement would shatter everything.

My phone rings again, shrieking out at the silence and that's when I lose it.

I drop onto the floor, turning off my phone and throwing it away without looking and it slides somewhere under a couch.

What did I do to him? Why do I feel like this over something so petty?

I don't know how long I sit there just crying into my arms, unable to think straight. I was seventeen again.

Please, I don't want to be that again.

I have voids that I filled up over the years with the little things I could find. I didn't want those voids to open up again and suck me dry. I hated that my mind was too fragile to handle even the smallest of turmoils.

Pull yourself together.

I manage to get up off the floor finally, rubbing at my eyes and looking around the empty apartment. I decide to pop some leftover lasagne in the microwave. I've taught myself to not think during these situations, to not think myself into the depression that was always lurking in the corner, waiting to overwhelm me. This was how I coped all these years.

I grab the lasagne and drag myself into my bedroom. Taking my clothes off, I drop onto the bed like a lifeless doll in just my underwear. It's my house I'll be half naked if I wanted too.

I couldn't bring myself to think about Luke's reaction, I didn't have the energy to dissect and analyse his actions in a way I understood. I also didn't understand why I was this upset.

Luke Hemmings kissed me... and more than anything I had felt his anger and I wanted to punch myself for wanting to take his pain away in that small corner of my mind that was always too kind to people.

There was something going on with him. It weighed at my heart suddenly, such sadness...The way his eyes were so heavy and he breathed a little harder like he was running an internal marathon. I tug at my lip where his teeth grazed earlier...

I shouldn't think about this. I reach for my bottle of pills on the side table and empty one into my palm, gulping it down with a glass of water and lay back in bed.

So much for a happy day.

---

I wake up startled, feeling like I got run over multiple times. I see the dark shadow of my plate of lasagne still untouched on the side table.

What woke me up?

The doorbell rings loudly, echoing through the silent apartment. Who the hell is it at this time?

I quickly drag on some shorts and an oversized t-shirt I find on the floor and pad towards the door, bumping into things and stubbing my toe in the process too.

I'm so sleepy that I forget I have a peep hole and open the door instead, peering from behind it to see Michael standing there.

"Michael...what..." I manage to mutter, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"Dude, did you attend a circus? What happened to your face?" he yelps, honestly looking horrified.

Oh no. I immediately straighten from my slump, leaving the front door wide open and rushing back into the bathroom.

Of course, I forgot to take my makeup off. I quickly wash my face and attempt to take most of it off with makeup remover wipes and let out a sigh when I look halfway human again.

Wide awake now, I walk back into the hall and see Michael sitting on the couch with his legs up on the coffee table. "What are you doing here Michael?"

"You left the studio before any of us even saw you, what happened?" he asks. But I had a feeling he already knew.

"Nothing I was just feeling unwell—"

"Don't lie to me," he interjects. "I know Luke said something. What was it?"

Sighing, I plop down next to him on the couch. "He—had a go at my friends and was just pissed at me the entire time, and when I asked him how he was doing—he just got really angry for no reason at all." I trail off, tears filling my eyes again. How pathetic was I?

"And I sort of brought up Ana..." I confess, looking up at him.

"Aw man, no wonder." Michael shakes his head. "Look, Sierra, I know he's being a dick, he has been one ever since they broke up. He has been so far away from us all—"

I nod.

"He doesn't talk to any of us about it, he's always angry at something. I know that you know that he isn't a bad guy. He's going through the hardest time right now and we're just trying to be there for him." he explains.

"Yeah, But I don't understand—"

He cuts me off again. "Sierra, listen to me. She was his world. And I mean the world. Everything rotated around Ana for him. But that changed because something happened and he wouldn't even tell any of us what."

"Well, can't you find out?" I ask, surprised the boys didn't know the reason Luke and Ana have broken up. There were countless speculations from the fans and the media but none were valid reasons.

"He needs help, Michael. I think he's angry at himself, more than anyone else." I knew very well about being angry at oneself.

"We asked him, we begged him. He just tells us to fuck right off. We tried contacting her too but she wouldn't answer our calls or messages." he lets me know tiredly, dragging a hand over his face.

I look down at my hands. They had been so in love... The whole world knew that. Ana and Luke, the perfect couple.

"Calum and Ashton took the girls out so they wouldn't come here looking for you. I knew he must have said or done something so I told them I'll check up on you."

I give him a little smile, I've only known him for three days and he was already such a good friend. I don't let the fact that I just called Michael Clifford a friend knock me out unconscious.

"Thanks, Michael, that's sweet of you but I'm fine, I just...He kissed me too.." I laugh airily feeling sorry for myself.

"What!" Michael exclaims, making me jump and ceasing my laughter.

"Yeah, he just pulled me towards him and kissed me. He was quite...angry."

"I didn't expect that. I'm sorry, this isn't like him. Did he hurt you?" he shakes his head, giving me a worried look.

"No, But—" I sigh, looking for my words.

"Look, Michael, I don't—I don't think I can take this job."