the luke hemmings
one
I don't know how it started. I could come up with hundreds—maybe thousands—of cliché ways to start off this paragraph. There were the best of times and there were the worst of times. Everything happens for a reason. Maybe it has something to do with God, I'm sure Mom would like that one. I'm sure that would make her feel better about my neglect for religion.
Anyways, something happened. Something in my life went right. One good fumbled into more good.
I end up with a millionaire across from me, his crew probably close to seven digits, too. Something went right in my life and I'm sitting on the edge of my seat, waiting for it to go wrong.
"I don't get it," Luke said, his eyebrows furrowed, "What does he do?"
"I write," I responded, trying to seem more important than I truly was. I spoke with my hands often, that's how I exaggerated words and kept myself from stuttering or pausing. I'm sure I constantly look like a child.
"He writes," Luke's manager responded.
It was like I wasn't in the room. As if I didn't wake up early to attend a meeting where I'm treated lower than low. I'm important, I know I'm important.
I could see the blonde boy look over at me, his eyes digging into my skin and making me feel worse. Did he not like what he saw? He doesn't need to like what he sees. I'm not his sugar daddy or anything, I can barely afford my own rent. Maybe he could be my sugar daddy. I would be so for that.
"Okay, what's the point? Why am I here?"
"Well, Michael here," my boss, Jack, paused, pointing over to me, "is going to go on tour with you. He's going to write about you, everything about you."
Luke toyed with a blue pen on the dark wood desk, spinning it around his lean fingers. I liked his fingers—they were long and callused.
"Have you seen Almost Famous?" I asked, leaning forward on the table. I could see my boss from the corner of my eye, he looked as if he were about to hit me upside the head. I was an overbearing and in-your-face type of guy.
"Duh," the older blonde answered.
"It's going to be like that, except more cool."
"Are you trying to tell me my favorite movie isn't cool?"
His manager looked me in the eyes, giving me a look of good luck.
I could feel my cheeks heating up with embarrassment, I knew my ghostly skin was quickly turning to a vermillion shade. It wasn't my fault, okay. I could go up a flight of stairs and this pale skin could make it look as if I just ran a marathon—something I'd never do.
"I'm kidding, chill." Luke turned back to my boss after giving me one more glance. "Do I have to do anything?"
"Not really. After it's written, you'll proofread it to make sure nothing is in there that you don't want in there," Jack responded. He turned the white binder in his hands around to Luke, "You need to sign off on it, though."
"Is he annoying?" The star asked, looking straight at my boss. "What is he, twelve?"
"I'm nineteen," I responded. I kept it at that, not ready to state that I'm not really annoying. I mean, everyone could be annoying at times. I'm sure I've pissed off a decent amount of people in my life, I've pissed off myself more than once.
I was a loud person, my laugh echoed from corridors. I liked making my presence known, but at the same time I liked having my alone time. I hated people but I also loved people.
Luke looked up at me, his face still looking down as he signed a few documents. "Aren't you supposed to be in college?"
"Aren't you?" I shot back.
Jack turned to me, his eyebrows furrowed. He was going to murder me, I know it. I know that the second we walk out of this room he is going to drag me by the collar of my sweater to his office and throw me out his balcony down to the busy streets of New York City.
I could sense it.
"Touché," the blonde tsked.
I watched him sign the papers, his signature was a mess. He held the blue pen so tightly, the ink blotting on the freshly printed pages. I printed those pages and now he was ruining it with his ugly handwriting.
"I get the final say of what does and doesn't end up in the article or whatever, right?"
Jack nodded as he nervously rubbed his fingers over his thumb. "It's going to be the entire issue, actually. Yes, though, you get the final say. I'll be sending Michael outlines at the beginning of each month with questions and such and he'll interview you."
"Your name is Michael?" He finally looked up at me, his eyes an icy shade. "I once had a dog named Michael. He died."
"I'm sor—."
"Where's he gonna sleep?" Luke asked, turning to his manager this time around. He slid the binder across the table, not caring if it got to the right place or not.
"In the spare bunk when we're in the bus, in a hotel room when we're not. We have everything worked out," he responded calmly. He wasn't much older than Luke, but his maturity level seemed through the roof.
I had a strong, strong feeling that Luke's manager has been dealing with him for far too long. Maybe he was the one about to jump off the balcony, he could take my place.
"Why didn't you tell me any of this sooner, Alexander?" He asked, his jaw tensing.
"I did, Lucas," he fired back, "but, you didn't listen to me."
"That's not my name."
"And you know Alexander isn't mine." He looked over at me, forming his lips into a straight line and sighing. "I'm Alex." He held out his hand, "We'll be seeing a lot of each other the next few months."
I shook his hand, shooting him another fake smile. "I'm excited. I've never been out of the country."
"I have," Luke said.
Alex ignored him, it was as if his left ear that was facing Luke suddenly went deaf. The sound waves of Luke's voice bothered Alex to the point he debated if being deaf would be more pleasant. "It's going to be a lot of fun. I've read your work and I know you're going to take it seriously. That last issue with The 1975 was killer, Mate."
Jack gave me a harsh pat on the back, a reminder that he was going to have a strongly worded conversation with me once Luke's team was gone. "He's a good kid, he's a lot of fun."
"He's been working with you all since he was fourteen, right? That's amazing!" Alex praised me, and, wow, it felt amazing. I like knowing that I'm doing something right in my life. I like having that verbal congratulate reminding me of my reason on this planet.
"Can we go?" Luke asked, leaning back in his seat. "I'm sure there's something I need to be doing."
Alex and Jack made contact before Jack turned to me. I was sure Alex was wishing me luck from the other side of the table because the look in Jack's eyes told me he was wishing me something much more than just luck.
"Yeah, we'll get going," his manager sighed, standing up and shaking my hand and then Jack's one last time.
I watched them leave, all of them in a formation as they guided Luke like a blind puppy. I stood up straight, keeping my eyes at the elevator across from the glass meeting room. I could feel Jack's dark eyes turning to burn holes in my eyes.
"I'm not gonna yell at you, but—."
"Yeah, I know, don't talk back to Mr. Famous." I turned to face my boss of five years, giving him a smile. Jack was like a cool older brother to me. He has paved the road for me in gold and I haven't figured out how to repay him.
I want to make him proud. I want to make everyone proud.
Jack put his hands on the back of my head, pulling me close and kissing the top of my forehead. "Don't fuck this up, Little Bitch."
"Thanks, Big Bitch."
Tried to make a solid introduction for you all.
How're you feeling about it?
How're you feeling?