"Where Luke Walker showcases his musical talent, playing electric guitar with grace that only a professionally trained Walker can, demonstrating one of his MANY gifts, Em Springs is the true star of the night, snatching the spotlight like a punk rockstar right out of a 2000's edition of BOP magazine, her bright pink highlights and dark clothes only the icing on the cake to her stage presence and killer voice." Carter grinned, eyes still on his phone after reading one of a dozen gossip columns out loud. 

"Looks like karaoke went well," Carter said, turning his smile up to me.

I yawned, pouring myself a cup of coffee before joining him on the couch, the morning sunlight warm against the material. Fighting a smile, I took a long sip out of my glittery unicorn mug. "What's the verdict?" I asked in what I hoped was a casual tone.

Carter snorted. "You wrote one of these articles, didn't you?" 

I shot him a look. "And what about all the other articles that you've been reading?" 

He grinned. "You should read them. You sound awesome." 

I ran my fingers along the unicorn design. "Who won, Carter?" 

Carter smiled. "It's killing you not to know. Sooooo competitive." 

I knew already, I just wanted to hear him say it. "It's soooooo much more satisfying hearing the sweet words of victory come out of someone else's mouth."

"Cocky much?" 

"Dramatic pausing much?" I replied. 

Then I stood up and stretched, not doing well to hide how self satisfied I felt. All the gossip columns— which didn't matter— had declared me the karaoke winner and it was hard to refrain from dancing around the house while listening to "We Are the Champions."

The article I had written had done more to praise Luke than myself, but by the time my boss had finished with it, I was once again painted as a wanna be super star, but at least hadn't accused me of any more petty crimes. "A shadow to the star that is Luke Walker," were her exact words. "A glow worm to a bone fire. Nothing but a pretty small thing."

I had received a single text from Dawn, my oh so wonderful boss at two AM this morning when the article went live. "It's just business kid. Better that we paint you poorly or they'll know you are working for us and that would kind of ruin the point of it."

Needless to say, seeing that every other article concluded that I won, made the headline of XOXO Daily Gossip sound ridiculous. 

I ignored that most articles also went into my clear chemistry with Luke. "A rivalry that left viewers waiting for the day that they just admitted that they wanted each other and did something about it."

"You don't need me to stroke your ego, Em. Everyone knows you won." Carter's gaze traveled towards the window. "Why do you think the crowed outside this morning is so much less..." he trailed off. 

"Unhinged?"

He smiled. "Yeah." 

The smile which had been so difficult to find since the paparazzi's arrival left me driving on air as I braved the crowded street that morning, pulling the paparazzi sharks along with me to give Carter and Tate— who had become his getaway driver— a chance to enjoy a somewhat normal drive to school.

The shouting, the flashes, the cars that followed me and Dawn's words in the article did little to ruin my mood. My brother seemed happier, and that was enough for me.

...

There is something entirely daunting about a recording studio. You go from a world of noise, to a world of silence. Silence feels far more vulnerable than noise. For one thing, noise makes it hard to hear yourself think. To hear the wants and desires inside of you. To fully understand and face the fears that sit in the shadows of your mind. 

Silence is loud, painfully so. A kind of sound that forces you to look at yourself in the metaphorical mirror and see the things that the noise can hide. 

Recording studios suck out the worlds noise, ask you to walk up to a microphone, and bare yourself in those moments of silence. It asks for bravery, and for that bravery to be recorded, forever claimed by a machine that is programmed to share it with the world.

Someone I didn't know sat behind a large mixing board, in a room with padded dark walls. It looked like it belonged to a high-tec insane asylum. The man had one headphone propped over his ear, the other hanging behind his other. He had a five o'clock shadow, large bags under his eyes and a toothpick in his mouth that he moved from one side to the other in a tired tick. Everything about the man screamed 'I am here, but I am not happy about it.'

His bleary eyes looked up at me, seeming bored. "Em Springs?" 

I nodded. "In the flesh." 

He blinked in response, no hint of a sense of humor or warmth. "Okay." 

He gestured to a door to the left. "Walk through there and we'll get you set up." Then he looked away, eyes on the mixing board, in his own little world, before I could ask him any questions. 

Setting my bag down, I glanced around the recording room. It was small, the size of a small closet. 

Movie magic... Made in tiny, claustrophobic spaces.

There were two small stools and one microphone that sat between them. I had beat Luke to the recording apparently. Or, if I was lucky, I was recording a song by myself first to get my bearings. There were four songs in the movie. One that my character would sing by herself the first time Luke's character sees her. The second being a tiny piece of a song that Luke's character is singing when my character first realizes Luke's character is a rockstar, the third being a duet our character's sing together, and the fourth being a song my character sings, like a reprise of the very first one my character sang.

I settled down on one of the stools, glancing around the tiny padded room before staring out the small glass window cut into the otherwise dark space. "What song—"

The tired man held up his hand, his other hand hitting a small button that sent his voice speaking into the room. "Put on those headphones and speak directly into the mic please. We need to test the levels." 

Scrambling for the headphones, I pulled them on and the already quiet room fell into a mind numbing silence. I couldn't even hear myself breathe. And with that realization, I suddenly wondered if I was breathing too loud. And then I was suddenly holding my breath, feeling self conscious. 

"Speak," the man barked, his voice suddenly so loud in my headphones that I nearly fell off the stool, startling me back to the present. 

"Um... what do I say?" I asked into the microphone. 

"Just... talk," he said, his irritation growing. 

This is going well. 

My mind went blank, my mind losing track of what words were and how to make them make sense. "Um..." 

My brain flatlined, leaving me with no thoughts at all. 

The silence stretched. Me staring at the microphone, feeling grumpy recording guys eyes on me, growing more and more irritated as the seconds ticked by. 

His voice filled my headphones again. "This is going to be a loooong session." 

"I'm sorry," I said with a sigh. "I've never done this before—"

"What? Talking?" 

My face bloomed red. 

"They need to stop sending me these..." he tugged his fingers through his hair, sending it up in wild spikes. "...green newbs." Running his hands down his face, the rest of his words were muttered behind them. "I shouldn't have to teach you now this works!"

"Take ten Chuck," someone said placing a hot cup of coffee in front of the grumpy recording guy. I couldn't see who it was, but the voice had become all to familiar.

Recording Guy Chuck plucked up the coffee and abandoned his chair without a word, holding the coffee like a lifeline, muttering as he walked out of the room. 

Luke Walker settled into the abandoned chair, adjusting several levers on the mixing board before looking up at me through the glass with an unreadable expression. "I'll train her."

I looked back at him, relieved that Grumpy Guy Chuck was gone, but unsure if Luke was going to be much better. "He is dangerous before he's had his caffeine. I never show up without it."

I let the words sink in, tucking away the advice in case I needed to interact with Grumpy Guy Chuck again. "Chuck wanted you to talk so he could check the levels, so let's talk." Luke still wore an unreadable expression, sipping out of a styrofoam cup of tea as he leveled me with another look. 

"About?" I asked, cautiously. 

Luke tilted his head, watching me with those chocolate eyes. Those stupid delicious looking eyes that I was starting to believe saw far more than he let on.

"Whatever you want. It's just to make sure the audio levels are good before we start recording songs."

I stared back at him, unsure of what to say. "Did you read the news this morning?"

Luke glanced down at something on the mixing board. "News and gossip articles aren't the same."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"And I'm not the one that's supposed to be talking," Luke replied. "But no. I didn't. I don't read gossip." He looked back up at me through the glass. "And I recommend you don't either. It's enough to cut you open if you let strangers opinions matter."

He gestured for me to talk. I stared at the microphone, but my mind went blank again. 

I heard him sigh. "I know it can be daunting. So just pick a topic that makes you forget where you are. Talk about your brother."

My head shot up and I narrowed my eyes at Luke, feeling suddenly defensive. "What about my brother?"

Luke's eyes softened slightly. He could tell that he touched a nerve. "Anything."

I suddenly felt like I was in a strange sort of interrogation, but his voice which filled my headphones was far too sexy for it to be considered terrifying or nerve-wracking— or at least not the fear for your life kind. 

I closed my eyes, thinking. "Carter is... wonderful. Smiles even when everything is going wrong. And with him... things tend to always be going wrong." My mind fluttered to my parents and my vocal chords tensed, body going rigid with a mixture of pain and anger. "He misses my parents."

"You sound angry," Luke said into the quiet. 

I shrugged, trying to brush it off. "Sometimes." It was hard to be responsible all the time. To be the one left behind to juggle everything. "My parents work on the road. Their health insurance helps cover things for Carter but... that leaves a lot left over for me to keep an eye on." 

"Is that why you are doing this?" Luke asks, "For him?"

I opened my eyes and stared at Luke unflinchingly. "Everything I do is for him." 

We stared at each other for a long moment, an understanding crossing between us. We had people we wanted to protect. I didn't know who his people were, but I could tell by the look on his face that he understood.

Our moment shattered as Luke looked away, shutting me out again. "Levels are good." Suddenly my headphones filled with the musical chords of my character's solo song. "Let's see what you can do." 

Pulling the lyrics out of my bag, I gripped the words in between my fingers like a lifeline, singing the lines as the music swelled.

The music cut out. "Don't stare at the paper. You aren't wooing the paper."

I snorted. "Well, I'm not gonna stare at you."

A hint of a smile caught on the edge of Luke's lips. "Wouldn't dream of it."

He looked back down at the mixing board. "I never said you had to. Just... close your eyes." His voice was velvet, seductive. A sexy secret in my ears. I closed my eyes, trying to focus. "Picture someone you want. Really want. Let it wash over you. That desire that consumes every waking thought, like a fever you can't shake, and let it eat at every syllable that leaves your mouth." 

His words hung in the air, humid, a near texture you could feel. Then he started the song again. "Now sing."

My mind fluttered to high school. To a boy with chocolate hair and a serious face. James Bayson. 

My first love. My first kiss. My first heartbreak. He was my best friend and when we tried for more, things shattered, destroying our relationship and leaving me utterly alone. It didn't help that Carter had just been diagnosed. There hadn't been time to cry over James. There had only been room to start taking care of Carter. 

James face filled my mind and I began to sing again, feeling things I had pushed away years ago. The words felt painful, ripping from me and leaving open wounds in their wake. Scars showcased themselves in each line I uttered. And then, I was done, with nothing left inside of me but an aching want. Remembering what it was like to love so fiercely. To love so openly and to be burned so completely as a result. 

Opening my eyes, the world around me swirled back into place, colors and figures blurry as I blinked away the feelings that had completely consumed me moments before. But the world refused to refocus. I wiped my eyes and found that I had been crying, silent tears of loss with each word I had sung. 

I found Luke's eyes again, a raw, unreadable expression on his face. "Good," he said into the silence. "Really good." 

I pulled my eyes away, not wanting him to see how deeply cut open I felt. Not wanting to be seen at all.

A snort filled my headphones. "She speaks!" Chuck said, ushering Luke out of his chair. 

I wiped at my eyes madly, embarrassed. 

"Nice work Luke. Maybe there's hope for her after all."

Luke didn't say a word at Chuck's praise for himself. Instead, he walked into the sound booth were I sat, leaving very little room between us as he settled down on the stool next to mine. "Let's give Em a break. I'll go next," Luke said, all business an edge of irritation to his tone.

Chuck shrugged and pulled up Luke's character song. Luke turned his stool so he was facing me, as the song began. Then Luke offered me a dangerous, dark smile as he slipped into his character. "This, dear Em, is how you woo." 

Then he began to sing. 

...

Actors have an ability to make you forget. To inspire feelings that aren't real and drag you along on a journey that leaves you feeling like the story they shape is really yours. They are thieves, burglars. Going through the treasure chest of your feelings, plucking out what they want to play with, and stealing off into the night when they are done, leaving you feeling open and raw. Seen in intrusive ways because they have been in secret places that were just yours. 

That was what Luke Walker was. A sexy burglar and he was in the process of ransacking the feelings inside of me. And I didn't have anywhere to run. We were in the middle of recording a song, and I was trapped in a tiny room with him, trying to remain calm and not move so I wouldn't ruin the recording take, because if I did, he'd have to start all over again and I'd be stuck in the small space with him for all eternity. 

A strange sort of purgatory that I couldn't quite decide if I loved or hated.

His gaze was unwavering, his words may as well have been coated in dark chocolate, dipped in seduction that left my head reeling. His voice was deep, dark lashes brushing across his cheeks as he looked at me from under them as the song moved from open declaration to gentle desire. 

OH. MY. GOSH. 

My entire body seemed to hum. 

KEEP. IT. TOGETHER.

I felt his words down to my bones and wasn't sure how to properly process the reaction. It was messing with my head, making it hard to process. To breathe. 

The fake aspect, the acting in close proximity was starting to have a few whispers of reality. It was no wonder that Lavender was so angry at him. Refused to work close with him. I needed to get my head on straight or I was going to be in trouble. 

Things only got worse when Chuck moved on to our duet, forcing me to match Luke's acting skills, staring into his eyes as we both sang, like two obsessed love birds. 

Luke began to smile, watching my comfort level drop as he leaned closer, teasing me with each word. I scowled and forced myself to fall into character, pretending that Luke wasn't the grumpy actor who had been skeptical of me since the moment I chucked pizza at him when we first met. 

And like a game we always tended to play, I matched him, staring up at into his face with a slow seductive smile that seemed to catch him off guard for a beat. We were both still staring at each other when the song ended, seeming locked in a strange challenge of wits. Neither one of us wanting to loose, neither one of us wanting to look away first. 

We had clear chemistry, a heated wild thing that was full of stubbornness and whoever gave in first was the clear loser, and I wasn't one to lose. 

It shattered when my biggest fan, Grumpy Guy Chuck, cleared his throat, satisfied. "Great take. Now get out of here so I can go home and sleep for a billion years." 

I bolted up from the stool, plucking up my bag and moved out of the recording room, needing no further encouragement. All I wanted was space after being trapped with Luke for so long. I burst out onto the sidewalk outside, startled by the way the world's noise crashed back into place. The sun was setting, giving everything an orange tint, bouncing off the buildings and blinding me for a moment. I hadn't realized how dark the studio had been. 

Stumbling backwards, I crashed into Luke as he stepped out of the studio throwing us both back a step. He placed his hands on my shoulders, steadying me. The feeling of his fingers, touching my bare shoulders felt like a bolt of lightning, adding to the already overwhelming shock to my senses.

"Whoa. You okay?" he asked.

"Overstimulated," I muttered, trying to get my bearings as I bolted out from under his touch. 

I ran my fingers through my hair, itching to see a thousand shades of color meet my fingers, only to drop my hand to my side, disappointed when I was met by the natural brown. Color comforted me, and I was needing something to ground me. 

Luke watched me for a beat. "The world is loud. Makes it hard to think out here." 

I looked out at the orange world. "That's not always a bad thing." 

He opened his mouth to say something but then seemed to change his mind. He turned away, walking down the street.  "Good work today, Em. I'll see you at the next shoot day." 

My mind went blank. "What's next?" I called after him. 

He turned back towards me, the sunset setting his dark hair ablaze, carving shadows into the side of his face as he shot me a smile. One that seemed real, but left me uncertain. 

He is such a good actor, will I ever be able to tell the difference between a real and fake smile?

The wind wove through his hair, brushing strands across his face, framing his cheeks and jaw. 

"We are going to Hawaii, Em." He turned away, hiding his smile at the expression of shock on my face. Clearly I did a terrible job of reading our shooting schedule. 

Hawaii?!?

"That's where our characters fall in love, remember?"

I opened my mouth to say something, but Luke was already walking away. "See you in Hawaii, Em. Try to keep track of our schedule next time." 

Then he was gone, leaving me standing on the sidewalk, trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I was going to have to fake fall in love with Luke in Hawaii, while I was already struggling with my clear attraction to him. 

---

Thank you for reading chapter sixteen! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes!

UPDATE DAYS - A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY!

Em and Luke clearly have some chemistry, will something happen between them in Hawaii?

Luke and Em's characters fall in love in Hawaii, will they finally have their first on screen kiss?

Will any more accidents happen while they are in Hawaii?

What will happen next?

CHAPTER QUESTION - If you were to go on vacation anywhere in the world, where would you go?