«DAY 1»
Luke
"At least I get girls," Michael had said to me as we walked down the hotel lobby. "I'm not hung up on some imaginary tramp from two years ago, waiting for the white picket fence."
My entire body tensed. And with clenched fists, I asked my former best friend: "What did you say?"
"Jane," he replied. "She's not real."
+
"Get off of him!" I hear Ben shout in the distance, but it makes everything worse on Michael's end. My blood boiling, I flex my arm and swing again, hitting the bastard over and over. Pinned beneath me on the marble ground, he can't do anything but take the hits. Blood spurts from Michael's nose and trickles into his gaping mouth. His lip busts open next. I can't stop now. I want to bash his head in. I want him hurt. I want him gone.
We're suddenly interrupted when Ben grips my arm and separates my fist from Michael's face with all his might. Calum and Ashton rush to Michael and each take an arm, preventing further damage. The two of us, still blinded by rage, fight and scream, arms reaching towards each other. Finally, Ashton gives Michael a strong, forceful tug and I see the fight in him dissipate, knowing he doesn't stand a chance against the older boy. It's all I can see as Ben starts to drag me away, down the hallway of the hotel.
"This isn't over, breadstick," Michael screams behind me, and I turn around to catch the sight of him spitting blood at the ground.
Once we're out of the lobby, Ben lets go of me and gives me a harsh shove. I catch my balance before I slam into the wall, and glare at him with malice.
"If I catch you two fighting one more time, there will be serious consequences," my publicist says. "Now clean yourself off and get your fucking ass to the common room."
I don't bother to ask. I know why.
Because she's here- the girl that's replacing Amber.
I'd hated the brat for the longest time, for leaving. Amber could just fly off whenever she wanted a break from the cameras because she wasn't a bandie, but I would always be stuck in this shithole. Here, to prevent even the slightest thought of escape, there were guards and an annoying publicist to keep me in check. So while Amber ran away (possibly to Puerto Rico, Brazil, or even Hollywood) here Ben was, bringing in some fake girlfriend that looked like my other fake girlfriend. To put it simply, I wasn't exactly thrilled.
Lissa
It's almost eleven PM when I arrive in London. I'd been with my brother all day and had accidentally missed my flight, which was supposed to take off five hours ago. I'd caught the very next one, but I'm still hours late getting to the hotel. I just hope no one would fire me for this.
As I wait in the common room at the elaborate London hotel, I nervously recite my knowledge of the pop star I'd memorized from the Internet. His name is Luke Hemmings, age 19. 1.93 metres tall, Australian, and also known as 'Breadstick'. His favourite restaurant is Nandos and he has a dog and two brothers. His favourite animal is a penguin. He's said that his ideal date would be to go to the beach and then Cold Rock. He tweets about farts. With the knowledge I've gathered, I can assume he's probably the sweetest and the most adorably clumsy pop star I'll ever meet. I just hope he's good company, because we'll be travelling together for a long time - the band's tour plan lists Canada in two days, Spain in seven, and Japan right afterwards.
The glass doors of the common room swing open, and I almost fall off my chair as somebody walks inside.
"Hi," I squeak, standing up quickly. "I'm so sorry I'm late."
"That's okay. You must be Lissa," the brown-haired man who walked in says, shaking my hand. He wears a friendly smile and a pinstriped blouse. "I'm Ben, Luke's publicist," he explains.
"And this is Luke, as you know already," he adds, and then he turns around and grabs the collar of a lanky blond boy, pulling him into the room. So this is the famous Luke Hemmings.
He's good-looking, tall, and incredibly lanky - just like in the photos - and wears a beanie and black skinny jeans. My eyes focus on his torn-up face in surprise, noticing the scratches and bruises all over his pale skin. I don't even have time to wonder why he's hurt. Luke's blue eyes focus on me immediately, making me feel self-conscious. I smile nervously at him, but he scoffs at me, wearing the most disgusted expression. My smile falters.
"She looks nothing like her," Luke says sharply. At his words, Ben's lips turn down, displeased.
"She has the same features. The same skin tone, body type, hair colour. I'd say she even looks like a stunt double," Ben argues.
"It doesn't matter. You bringing in some low budget actress to act like Amber: people aren't going to buy it, Ben."
"We'll make it work," the publicist replies calmly, as if speaking to a child.
I'm guessing the pop star and I have just got off at the wrong foot. I can't even look him in the eyes anymore, in fear of him shooting daggers at me.
Behind Luke comes in a very pissed-looking band member with platinum blond-white hair and an eyebrow ring. I recognise him immediately as Michael Clifford. At current state, both of them look very different than the photos from Google. Michael's nose is bleeding, and so is his lip.
And then of course, Ashton. The drummer with the brown-blond curls, and the tan bassist with jet black hair - Calum - enter the room. I offer them a smile that Calum thankfully returns.
Right as they enter, the sound of a melody begins to ring through the room from Ben's back pocket. "I have to take this call, excuse me," Ben says, pulling out the ringing phone from his pocket and leaving the room. He briefly brushes past the two members that just joined us and closes the door behind him.
I take a seat again, my legs shaking. The band members scatter around the room, looking me on with unanimous interest and curiosity. All except for Luke, who shows zero interest.
When I sneak a glance at him, he scoots away from me. No, really, he picks up his chair and moves to the other side of the room. Ashton sighs. Right away I can tell that he is, at least, the mature one out of the group.
"Don't mind him, he's just PMS'ing," A voice whispers in my ear, making me jump. I look up to see the bleach-blond guitarist, who grins down at me.
"Hi. My name is Michael," he says.
"I-I know," I tell him.
The door opens and Ben hurries back into the room as quickly as he left, his phone still at his ear. "It's late and we need to get going-" He says to me distractedly, and I jolt off the chair. He looks at my hesitant expression and adds, "Introductions and tours can be done tomorrow morning. Hurry, the boys will show you your room." Then he motions for us to follow, mumbling something else into the phone.
To my embarrassment, I start walking without realising that Luke's chair is in my way - the one that he had placed in the middle of the room - and within seconds I lose my balance, sprawling on the ground in front of the people I'm trying to make a good impression for. Luke snickers, passing by me with his hands in his pockets. Fighting back the tears that are threatening to form, I think of turning back right now and going back home. But I catch myself in the thought when Michael grabs my arm and helps me up.
"Thanks," I mutter, and he gives me a small smile.
+
This is single-handedly the best floor of the hotel. The band gets the special lounge on the top floor that takes up almost the entire hallway, and there are two bodyguards who roam the halls in case a fan tries to break in. Very safe, I'd say.
"Okay, here, there are two bedrooms, a kitchen, a washroom and a living room," Michael says, introducing me to their fabulously expensive, cream-carpeted lounge with windows that overlook the Big Ben. Yes, seriously.
Aside from Michael, Ashton and Calum both immediately give me exhausted, polite smiles as goodbyes and quickly disappear into their rooms.
Luke dumps his bags angrily on the ground and downright marches into his. Then it's just me and Michael left, and I shudder uncomfortably.
I can feel his hand touch the top of my chestnut hair, making my heart pound in my chest as I move away from the older boy's touch. "I like your hair," he says. "I'd like it more if you dyed the tips blue."
"T-thanks," I tell him, not knowing what else to say.
Michael continues to look me on with admiration. "Shy thing like you, how'd you end up as an actress?" He coos.
"I don't know," I mutter, glancing up at his face. And then I just can't help but ask. I can't ignore the fact that his face is beat up and torn, and here he is, acting like nothing had happened.
"W..what happened to your face?" I finally get out.
"A fight with Breadstick," he says, rolling his eyes. "I look pretty, don't I?"
"Um..."
"It was a joke," he says with a laugh. "I made fun of the girl he likes."
"Oh," I say, and he looks down at me with a devilish smirk. "Not Amber," he adds, making me look up in surprise. "Luke's been caught up on some rando for like two years now. He doesn't even know her name. But he's been hung up on her ever since they've met." He pauses shortly. "And Ben thinks Luke is just being an idiot and pining over some imaginary girlfriend...so he brought in his daughter a month later-"
"Amber?" I ask, and Michael nods. "Really? It's a stunt?" I gasp.
"Yeah, really. And it looked like they were hitting it off, for a while." He taps his chin in thought, and I see something hard in his eyes. "But I'm not sure anymore now that she's lost a bit of interest. It was probably just the sex."
"Oh," I say again, cringing at the S word. To my luck, Michael notices.
"You're so fuckin cute. Why can't you be mine instead?" He sighs, making my eyes go wide. "Ugh, lead singer favouritism. I hate that about this place."
"Why...um, why don't you get a girlfriend, then?" I ask hesitantly.
"That wouldn't be any fun now, would it?" Michael grins so brightly I blush.
Suddenly, the door opens behind us and Ben peers inside, his phone still at his hand. "I'm sorry, Lissa. The band has an important interview tomorrow, so you have to get going."
"Ur...where exactly?" Is there a spare bedroom? Do I take the couch?
"Amber and Luke share a room. The bed next to the window is hers. I hope that's okay with you," Ben says.
I freeze.
No, I want to say. That's not okay with me. I don't want to sleep in the same room as a stranger, and a boy, especially when he hates my guts! I'd feel damn uncomfortable.
"Aw, can't she room with me instead?" Michael whines, with a wink my way. I pretend not to notice.
"No. Good night, the two of you," Ben says strictly. "Here's your contract, Lissa. You can read it tonight, and we'll go over it tomorrow morning." He hands me a large piece of paper, and then he's gone.
+
Luke is already asleep in his bed when I walk inside. Thankfully, it's a big room, and the beds have enough space in between. It's pretty cozy, with white walls and a soft carpet that feels nice under my feet. I could definitely live here. Even though Luke's fast asleep, I rush to the corner of the room where no one can possibly see, and turn my back to him to change. Putting on a comfy sweatshirt, I jump on my bed, soft as silk, and read the contract quickly to see if there is anything notable.
In a short run-down:
Luke's record company, Motion Records [A/N: I know that's not the real name, this is just fictional] is more than desperate to hire a proxy to hide the fact that they are responsible for a missing girlfriend, and the fact that Luke doesn't care enough to be looking for her.
Amber, Luke's girlfriend of two years (and his publicist's daughter), had vanished out of the blue and the public was bound to notice her absence.
The contract then explains that once I sign the bottom, I'll be a part of Motion Records for as long as my job lasts. Since Amber is also a publicity stunt and she's partly linked to Motion Records, I'll be taking their orders, as well as travelling with Luke wherever Amber would usually go. Next, I've got to do anything to keep Luke's and my image clean, and withhold all private information kept inside Motion Records. And lastly, I've got to do whatever Luke wants to do with me in public...but I am not obligated to do anything for him in private.
With shaking hands, I sign the bottom where prompted. And with just one flourish of a pen, I become Amber's proxy and the girlfriend of Luke Hemmings.
Yup. In this story Luke is going to a spoiled asshole who doesn't care about anyone else except for himself. Actually, pretty much all the 5sos members in my books are assholes :') (I swear, I like the band)
Anyway, thank you for reading this first chapter!
- Kate