Bro Code : Luke Hemmings IN EDITING

Twenty-Nine : PART TWO

"No, no. It's fine," I assure him. "So how did it come about? Did he ask you to drive for him?" Chris looks down to his hands and his face concentrates on something. "You don't have to tell me or anything," I chuckle to lighten it up. "I was only curious."

"No, it's fine. I realized I couldn't do it on my own, so I asked him to lend me some money. He was more than happy to. After awhile, I knew I'd never be able to pay him back all of the money, so he let me work it off. Somehow and somewhere down the line, we've come to this agreement."

His hands are shoved into his pockets and his smile is endearing. "What agreement?"

"You love questions.." I smile at his words. "He lets us live in a company suite and use a company card as long as I edit all of his paperwork and drive around anyone he needs me to."

"That's actually a really good deal. Sounds like John's a pretty good guy," I tell him. 

"Yeah, I couldn't have picked a better friend," he smiles. I don't say anything, I'd rather not pest him with questions. "But, if you don't mind me asking, who was the inspiration for your song? John let me listen to it once, pretty good for someone so young."

"Have you seen the whole video?" I ask. He nods. "The girl in that. Her name's Hope Taylor," I tell him.

"Ah, what's the story behind that? The lyrics are much more upsetting than the pictures lead on to be." I'm thoroughly impressed that he could catch all the lyrics and notice it isn't happy. 

"Basically, I've liked her since we were really young, and I've been doing the right thing by keeping the friendship and not risking it for myself," I tell him. I shift awkwardly in the spot that the lady left us in. 

"Did she know you liked her?"

"I think she's always known, but she didn't want to bring it up," I reply, a little more quiet than before. "We had just started to figure it out, and she had kissed me--more than once!-- and I know she has feelings of some sort. It's just that I haven't figured out what kind."

"What about the rest of the song? Is there a new guy or something?" Once again, I'm impressed that he rememebers and knows.

"Yeah, she met him once. Well..twice, but she was drunk the second time and didn't remember it," I tell him.

"So, was it love at first site or am I missing a piece to the puzzle?" he looks at me, his eye brows furrow together on his tanned skin. 

"I'm honestly not sure. She came over, took my phone, got his number, and they've been seeing eachother since." I never realized how much it doesn't add up.

"Seems odd, don't you think?" his head cocks to the side. "Do you think she could've been trying to make you jealous?" he says.

"No, she's had her whole life to make me jealous, but she never has."

"Mr. Clifford," the woman comes back as her heels sound against the tiled floors. Chris and I both break the conversation to give her our attention, "The booth is now ready for you. Follow me." She comes from behind the desk and leads us down the hallway. The floor changed from tile to carpet somewhere along the way. Following in silence, I take in all the records hung on the walls, many belonging to old singers and bands. I'm slightly honored to have been given this opportunity. 

Her footsteps stop as we approach a door towards the end of the hallway; the name plate beside it has my name written on masking tape and stuck to the golden colored medal. It's opened slightly, and I can't help but to enter before I am given permission. Chris waits outside the door and gives a cheery thank you to the woman.