Hey There, Delilah - A 5 Seconds of Summer story

Chapter 62

But they didn’t.

Maybe I was all cried out, maybe I was numb, maybe I had finally realised that I’d gotten myself into this mess.

Whatever the reason, I couldn’t cry.

All I could think of was Luke’s lips on mine and his fingers entangled in my hair, and the way his beautiful blue eyes lit up when he saw me wake up in the hospital bed, and the way he’d traced my scars and told me I was “so goddamn beautiful”.

My chest ached. My heart was hollow.

Being without Luke now, even after having done it for the past five years, was like I was missing a part of myself.

Maybe my lungs, maybe my brain, maybe my heart.

I wasn’t sure of anything except that it hurt like hell and that leaving him behind was the worst mistake I’d ever made.

I turned and glared at myself in the mirror. “This makes three times.”

The day’s performance and travelling had taken their toll on me and I looked a right state.

My clothes were rumpled, my hair was straggly in its ponytail and makeup rimmed my eyes thinly.

I was a mess.

And I couldn’t even call myself a hot mess, because that would be lying. I was just a tearstained, hollow, broken mess.

And maybe because I liked to torture myself, I got to my feet, opened my wardrobe and reached to the very back to pull out the box.

It was dusty; I hadn’t touched it since we’d moved in.

But even under the grey layer of dust, I could see the peeling blue paint and glitter.

It was roughly the size of a large shoebox, with Delilah and Luke scrawled along the top in Luke’s messy handwriting.

Tentatively, I stroked a finger across the lid of the box, tracing our names, permanently entwined in ink.

Matt Corby’s raspy voice began to croon roughly from my speakers, and I couldn’t help but feel that this song was so appropriate.

I opened the box slowly as his song stirred.

I’m giving up

This whole lie, this whole me

Call it out like a family

Instead I bide my time, get a ride

Until the rubber leaves the road

First came a small bundle of drawings.

Forgotten games of hangman and naughts & crosses.

Stick figures.

Rough sketches of landscapes.

Really terrible portraits we’d done of each other with our eyes closed.

You said don’t lie so I made the truth

Seemed like a lie to even you

Control your fear. It's clear

That you do not know where you're going to

Next was a collection of ticket stubs.

From the movies we’d seen at the cinema, the odd play we’d seen at the theatre, a visit to the national gallery, trips to Luna Park and concerts from music artists.