Proxy [l.h]

Oleh mukequality

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Seventeen-year-old Lissa is hired to imitate Luke's girlfriend, only to discover the shroud of secrets that s... Lebih Banyak

Coming Soon-zies
1. The White Picket Fence and the Girl I Love
2. First Days and Other Disappointments
3. Parties, Concerts and Deprivation
4. Jane Doe's and Drinking Games
5. One Night Stands and Star-crossed Lovers
6. Fly Aways and Sneaky Kisses
7. Taxi Rides and Long Showers
8. Surprises and Unanswered Questions
10. Rendezvous and Big Reveals
11. Endings and Beginnings
12. Drinking Problems and Confessions
13. Flights Back Home and Distractions
Announcement... not really :')
14. Innocence and Protective Instinct
15. Sudden Relapses and... Jane?
16. Brief Warnings and Sexual Encounters
Character Ask- Questions
17. Flashbacks and Kiss-and-tells
18. Long Talks and Terrible Truths
19. Publicity Stunts and Broken Hearts
Character Ask- Answers
20. Betrayals and Breakups
21. Elevators and Bitter Interrogations
22. Catching Feelings and Homecomings

9. Chocolate Sundaes and Run Aways

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Oleh mukequality

Guys I'm sorry lol I procrastinated writing this chapter and now it's 1 AM and this has some shitty writing. Please point out any mistakes you see and I'll fix it tomorrow!!

This is 4 u ;

frantasticmel RedHoodiex xbedriddenx iamonlyhalfasian bestfriendsforeverf mukelovelis uhh_okay mentalunitato carvedechos seaoffools AquaAmnesia96 HI I LOVE U :')

+

«DAY 6 cont.»      

Lissa 

Luke doesn't seem surprised at all when I can't give him an answer.

"Well-Uh, I'm..." I trail off, my face blushing a beet red. Suddenly, I just want to hole up and die, right in this hotel room. This was a horrible idea. The closer Luke gets to me, I think of him in bed, of that time I caught him touching his junk, and then I blush even harder.

Luke's face hardens noticeably at my hesitation. But he hides it from me, plastering on a smile like I'd done minutes ago.

"You're overthinking it. Your feet go here," he says absent-mindedly, pushing my feet apart with his shoe.

"Luke, I-"

"Don't," he says shortly, his icy blue eyes gazing into mine. "I'm sorry. I was wrong to ask you that. You seem to be into Michael more, anyway."

I look down at our feet. The silence just seems awkward now, and I find myself wishing there was music, at least. My hands feel awkward around his neck, but his are firm against my hips, pulling me flush against him.

"Honestly, I think Michael is just...a flirty person," I mutter. "It won't be anything more. I don't want it to be. He loves someone else anyway."

Luke shrugs nonchalantly, like he really doesn't care what I'm saying but he's agreeing anyway. Most of the time, he makes it seem like he's bored with me, or just plain angry. Come to think of it, Luke is angry all the time.

"Do you hate me?" I blurt. Luke looks up in alert.

He formulates an answer, and then looks down at our feet again. We start to move together, in small, hesitant movements mostly on my part. I've never danced with anyone before. It's pretty embarrassing to admit at the age of seventeen, but it's true. I've never dated, kissed, or danced with anyone of the other gender. I guess you can say I'm the most obvious virgin you could ever find.

"I don't hate you. I did, at first," Luke replies. With his hand moving up the curve of my waist, he starts to turn me in a slow circle. I keep my eyes on our feet, tiptoeing around his, as if they're feeling cautious of this new feeling of a boy's hands on me.

"Why did you hate me?" I ask, looking up.

He purses his lips, and then opens them again. "I thought you were another bone that Ben threw at me through the cage. That you'd be exactly like Amber, brainwashed and trained to be the perfect girlfriend for the perfect pop star life. But you're actually pretty damn imperfect." Luke smiles lazily down at me, and I don't know whether I should be flattered or offended. But he moves on before I can decide which. "I'm nothing but a mutt to Ben, anyway. If I do something he likes, I get a treat. When I don't, he puts me back in the kennel. That's just how things work there."

I ponder his answer for a second, and then study his face, hardened with stress lines and pale skin.

If he's so miserable being who he is, then why is he still here?

Maybe I'm just being naive, and I don't know how it all works. But what if he just...what would happen if he just...

"Luke," I say. "Why don't you just...leave?"

Luke tenses for a second, and then looks down at me like I'm stupid.

"If I hadn't tried, would I still be here?" He barks.

"W-well, you did come all the way out to California... and we haven't been caught yet."

Luke groans, and he steps away from me, breaking us apart. I awkwardly let my arms fall to my sides, half relieved that I don't have to dance anymore. "You only think that because you didn't pay attention." He sighs. "We've checked into a different hotel every night since we've been here, under new names. We wear turtlenecks and sunglasses in burning hot weather. And I bust my ass trying to keep you, me, and Dustin undercover this whole time. That's the only reason we're not being dragged home right now."

"But-"

"Look outside, Lissa," he cuts in, rubbing his temples. "Right now."

Feeling sheepish, I walk to the window on the other side of the room and look outside. There's nothing special, really. The darkness covers most of my sight, but I can see somewhat non-interesting things in the dim glow of the street light. The hotel, as fancy as it is, faces a boring alley, where a couple of cars are idling.

"See that black one?" Luke asks behind me, his breath tickling the back of my ear. He points at a shiny black Mercedes, with it's lights turned off. From where we are, I can't tell if anyone is inside. "It's most likely following us," Luke says. "They're everywhere. I see people looking at us, heavy set men at the back of restaurants and at hotel desks, talking to each other. Looking at us."

I turn to him with a gasp. "Wow, we really are on the run," I say with wide eyes.

Luke crosses his arms over his chest, his blonde hair falling into his eyes. "Do you know how Ben keeps Calum and Michael so obedient?" He questions. He doesn't wait for me to answer. "I didn't even need to listen to the conversation he had with them to know. I know he told them to stay away from each other. He told them never to acknowledge each other in public. Instead of embracing their sexuality, they're going to hide it. He threatened their families, their reputation, their success," he says with so much malice in his voice I've never heard before. "As for me, Ben is a little more cautious. I've got nothing to lose, except for Jane. That's why he hates her so much; it's a weak spot of mine that he can't tap into, no matter how hard he tries. He knows there's no way he can mess with a girl that's hidden in my memories. And my father works for the company, so Ben's somewhat closing his eyes when I do something wrong. He treats me better than the rest of the band, but he still owns me. He sells me. That's what publicists do." He glances at a sleeping Dustin on the other side of the bed, his fists clutching the silk linen sheets. He's never slept in a bed this soft, and in a room so full of luxuries. Neither have I.

"He seemed like a nice guy," I reply under my breath.

"Because you're naive," Luke says boldly. "You always see the good in everyone."

And you see the bad in everyone.

"I know," Luke replies to my exact thoughts. "Come here," he says, reaching his hand towards me again.

I relax into his embrace this time, and we begin to make lazy circles on the floor. Luke doesn't keep his eyes off my movements, as if he actually enjoys judging me.

"I can't believe you've never even touched a guy before," he says out of the blue, making me blush a crimson red.

"What happens if I step on your shoe?" I ask quietly.

"Pretend it didn't happen," he says, suddenly lifting my arm above my head. I freeze in the awkward pose, blinking stupidly at him.

"You're supposed to twirl," he says, suppressing a smirk.

Oh.

That didn't really solve my problem, though. I still wasn't sure whether to turn left or right. Does the direction even matter? I don't know. I don't think so.

With some difficulty, I choose the right direction, wherever my body tells me to do. I twirl underneath Luke's arm and end up pressed against him like in the ballroom movies Dustin and I used to watch before he changed.

"Well, since you don't hate me-"

Luke unravels me, and I smile at him at arm's length.

"Allies?" I suggest.

"Allies," he agrees.

«DAY 7»      

Luke

The next morning, we wake up to the beating hot sun and humid weather. "I'm so happy to be back home," Lissa sighs, twirling in her dress as we walk down the street to a small diner a few minutes away.

"Quiet down. Put your hat back on, or we'll be noticed," I hiss, pressing her fedora further onto her head.

"Sorry," Lissa replies, biting her lip.

Once we get seated, Lissa decides immediately that she'll pay for herself and for Dustin. Dustin wants a chocolate sundae, and vegetable soup with fries. She gets him all of those and gets a tiny omelet for herself, five seventy five on the menu.

"Aren't you hungry?" I ask, sounding dis-concerned as I pummel through my french toast with butter.

"No." Lissa shakes her head.

The whole time, we eat in silence. Lissa holds her pigtails back with an extra elastic, and digs into her omelet like she hasn't seen food for days.

Ultimately, the problem starts when the chocolate sundae, turns out, isn't big enough to satisfy Dustin's needs.

When Lissa insists that's the only size that they have on the menu, Dustin finally breaks down in front of everyone in the diner. He starts bouncing up and down nervously, the tears already streaming down his face, the food falling from his mouth. Lissa looks devastated. She takes a napkin and cleans up the mess he's making, and she grips one of his hands as he erupts into a loud cry. He doesn't cry like a normal boy, or a normal person. I mean, after all, he's almost as tall as Lissa, and he's fifteen years old. But his sister still has to stop him from crying in public places. Lissa's face is turning red. She's upset, but I can tell she's been doing this for so long she can handle it by herself.

"Shh, Dustin," Lissa whispers. I can tell she's trying so hard; I almost feel pity for her. "I'll buy you another one, okay? We'll combine it with the first; that would make a bigger size! Right?" She asks enthusiastically.

"No small, no small, no small!" Dustin yelps, then throws the salt shaker across the table. I catch it before it falls off and makes more of a mess. Beside us, people are already staring, some of them snickering, some of them watching with curiosity, as if Dustin is an exhibit in a zoo.

A waitress clad in a hideous purple shirt approaches us with firmly pressed lips. "Please take him outside. He's disturbing our customers," she says formally.

"Fuck off," I say to her, and I see her round eyes go wide before I turn back to Dustin.

Eventually, he stops convulsing, and Lissa blinks back her tears, rocking Dustin back and forth in her arms. She wipes away Dustin's drying tears, and the corner of his mouth. She tips a cup of water to his lips, and he drinks slowly, like a baby.

"Here's your order," the waiter says, suppressing a laugh. She sets down a second chocolate sundae in front of Dustin, and he nearly jumps in with enthusiasm. The diner is plunged into comfortable silence again as he plunges his spoon into the dessert. The waitress walks away without clearing the table for us, leaving the dirty plates and cutlery right there, to clear someone else's table. I don't know if she did it on purpose, or had just forgotten. But she's laughing, and I know it's not the latter.

"Hey! What the fuck?" I shout at her back, re-receiving the dirty glares from the other customers. "Get the fuck back here and clean this up." Everyone turns around to look at me.

"Luke, stop, it's okay," Lissa says quietly beside me.

The waitress glances at me over her shoulder, throws me a flirty glance, and disappears to the back anyway.

"I'm so sorry we interrupted your meals. Please carry on," she says to the other customers with a smile on her face. They scoff to themselves and turn their attention back to their food.

"Luke, you're so mean sometimes," Lissa whispers when it's all done. She dabs at her clothes and Dustin's with a certain kind of exhaustion I notice in her eyes.

"And you're too soft," I snap.  "I was right. The first day I saw you. You're nothing like Amber, and you'll never be."

Lissa says nothing; just wipes angrily at a stain in her shirt from when Dustin flung some of the food on his plate.

"I'm not joking," I say loudly, tipping Lissa's chin up to face me. "You can't live like that. You can't let others stomp all over you."

"Well-" she begins, her voice gradually growing smaller in discomfort. "Being nice is the only way we can be happy to ourselves and to each other."

"That's bullshit," I bark, and she looks up and me with the eyes of a wounded puppy. "When life turns into hell, you lash out. You don't keep quiet and hide behind yourself."

"Well, we're different people." She sighs, looking at Dustin. He's too occupied with his ice cream to notice we're talking about him. His tears are already drying on his face, but his nose is red. "But...i-it's hard, sometimes, you know? I love him so much, but I get so tired, and...and, when I got the job with you, a little tiny part of me felt...relieved. I hated myself for feeling relieved. But this happens every day to my little brother, and I can't control that no matter how hard I try. I...I love him so much," she babbles. "And I wanted to start a new life somewhere else. I really did. And I want to lash out, Luke."

In a lame attempt to touch her, I reach out and let my fingers brush against Lissa's hand. But the way she's leaning away from me tells me she's in no situation to do that, not now, not two days later. It's simple. She just doesn't like me the way the other girls do.

Maybe she was more into Michael's type...though she denied it.

That can't happen.

I have no one to compare myself to in this game, except Michael. Lissa doesn't have an ex boyfriend or even any kind of a romantic relation I match my standards to.

I let my eyes wander to the tiny bit of chest she's revealing; not that she even shows it on a regular day.

For the first time ever, I examine her appearance. She's put on the slightest bit of mascara today and pink blush that makes her look like middle-school girl.

She's two years younger than you, of course she does.

I can't think about getting her to sleep with me anymore.

She's so small, and so tiny, and so helpless. She wouldn't survive in the real world. Her brown pigtail swishes back and forth as she nods.

I wish she had blond hair, like Jane's. I would've liked that. A lot.

+

We take Dustin back to St. Johns. He clutched onto Lissa's clothes for about fifteen minutes, refusing to let go, but at least now they had a proper goodbye. Lissa kisses her brother on the forehead and passes him along to the nurse, Jackie. Dustin wails and sheds a tear or two, but the goodbye is over soon and Lissa walks, in zombie-like movements, to our ride. I don't offer her a word as she gets in. Thankfully, she doesn't either. 

It's almost half past four when we get out of the hospital. Lissa seems solemn, and she's kept closed-mouthed the whole time, looking somewhat moody. It's explainable. I've seen how close she was with her brother. But it would have been impossible to drag him all around the place while she helped me search the city.

And then something happens.

"Mister, we go right from here," Lissa says with a shaking voice to the hooded driver of our taxi. Hearing her uncertainty, I immediately become alarmed as well. I've been on edge the whole day, watching out for any ambushers of any kind, anyone who somewhat resembles my horrifying publicist.

"Don't worry," the man says from the front, and he ignores Lissa, taking a left turn instead. There's something strange about it all. I can't quite see his eyes underneath the dark hoodie, nor the features of his face. The route leads to a whole different highway than we wanted to go, and suddenly, I'm filled with a certain kind of panic. I grip Lissa's hand, hard, and wait for the taxi to slow to a stop in front of a green light.

"What? What's happening?" Lissa wails as I kick open the door to the side, and barely make it out once the taxi starts moving again.

I break into a sprint, nearly dragging Lissa behind me. Behind us, I hear the tires screech to a stop, and the sound of the door slamming shut. But it's not just a single door. There are multiple cars, all stopping behind the taxi, one by one, as if they were waiting for us.

Still startled, Lissa's movements are slower, struggling to catch up to me as I speed down the street. We turn the corners around the buildings and the crowds of people, hiding ourselves in the crook of an alley; similar to the one we saw out the window of the hotel. I can hear both our footsteps ring through the narrow walls, repeating in cadence. But I can swear I heard another pair of footsteps close by, echoing with ours, and both of us start to run faster.

I push my way out the alley, knowing now this was a bad idea. The more isolated we are, the easier they can find us. Now that I know it's not just the man in the hoodie, we have no chance in this alley.

We run out into the mass of people once again, maneuvering through. We can't hear the footsteps of our chasers anymore; they're drowned out by the sound of traffic, the footsteps of other people around us. I spare a quick second to look behind us, and see the hooded man at the very front, pushing past the crowd.

I grip Lissa tighter, and then suddenly I have an idea.

Twisting her around so that she's facing the side of a nearby flower shop, I pin her against the wall, my back turned to the guards, then I move my body over hers as if shielding her so our faces are unrecognizable. The impact must've hurt her, but she doesn't say anything. The last thing I see is Lissa's doe-like brown eyes, wide open in fear, as I meet her lips in an eager kiss, my hands roaming, taking her lip between my teeth. She goes completely still, letting out a small noise of surprise at the back of her throat.  

The hooded figure moves right past us, dismissing us as irrelevant lovers, making out in the streets. It's chaotic; it's obvious that none of them can see properly, through the heads of people, of speeding cars, and they run far ahead, far, far away from Lissa and I.


Hellooo! Yeah yeah, I know. They're already making out :3 But don't forget that Luke is an asshole and he's actually kind of using Lissa  for his own benefit ??!!! smh

Hopefully things will start to make sense in the next chapter! Please stay tuned XD I hope y'all liked this and I'll see you soon~ sleepy time for me.

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starstruck - lrh Oleh (:

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