Band Member: Luke
Type: One Shot, Anon Request
Details: Based on Miss Missing You by Fall Out Boy
panic, you thought to yourself as you
focused on taking deep breaths, not yet.
You felt your whole body tensing, and dull ache had started to spread through
your chest as you stared at your phone. He hadn’t replied for days. You must
have called him a thousand times, and text him even more. But he didn’t want to
know. As far as Luke was concerned, it would be better if he just forgot you
You were so numb, the reality of his decision to leave not sinking in. It was
someone else’s nightmare, and you promised yourself that it wasn’t worth
worrying about. He’d change his mind, and come back to you.
Only he hadn’t yet.
You woke late every morning,
rolling onto his cold side of the bed and feeling goose bumps rise on your
skin. Shivers rushed down your spine as you started to realise that this was
it. This was your life now. The love you’d felt for him had burned like flames
in your heart, but it was time to let it go. It was the only way you’d be able
to bring yourself back to life.
been difficult to overcome. You’d had so many plans for your future together; you
had never humoured the thought that he might not feel the same. You’d sat in
his car as you drove through quiet suburbs, music blaring and singing along
together as loud as you could. He’d loved it, grinning at the disapproving
faces of the mums as they carted their kids off to school. But you’d always
dreamt of owning one of those houses one day. A perfect little home for the two
of you, with room for a couple of little ones and a garden surrounded by a
white picket fence. It was a complete cliché, but you wanted it. Luke was supposed
to be your happy ending.
imagined moving in day, hauling boxes from the truck, Luke scooping you up into
his arms to ‘cross the threshold’ for the first time. He’d wake you up the next
morning with breakfast in bed, served on paper plates with plastic forks
because you hadn’t unpacked the cutlery yet. There would forever be that one
last box left in the garage, and neither of you would know for sure what was
inside it, but it would become an unwritten agreement to leave it there
unpacked. You’d decorate it yourselves, Luke drafting in the guys and taking it
very seriously until you flicked a paintbrush at him and started an all-out
you’d marry. You’d have two boys and a girl, and he’d joke that if you had
another you’d be able to start ‘5 Seconds
of Summer, Mark 2’. He’d play guitar to them in their cribs, softly
strumming as he sang them to sleep with their favourite lullabies. He’d take
them to music lessons because you insisted, even though he swore he could do a
better job than some fancy pants instructor.
You’d throw big barbecue parties in the summer, the kids splashing in the pool
as he swigged a couple of beers with the boys. At night, you’d cuddle up in
bed, safe in each other’s arms.
pictured those scenes over and over when he first left, clinging on to them in
the hope that if you wished hard enough, they would still come true.
You still thought about it now and then, remembering how strong your longing
had been for him, and almost missing it. He was such a strong, passionate part
of your life that it felt wrong when you finally let him go. To allow the
darkness that had grown and consumed you to fade away, and let the pain begin
made it easy for you. You’d wanted him to hurt you, to scream in your face and
throw filthy words at you. You’d wanted to be angry at him, to make it easier
to trash the love you’d shared and surrender it completely. But he’d walked
away so quietly, blaming his fame, his schedule, his work. You knew it was more
than that, that he was trying to spare your feelings and make a clean break.
You felt his eyes burn into you as you tried to push him into a fight, but he
never gave in. You wanted to hate him for it, but you knew deep down that even
though he was leaving, he was still trying to save you.
been eight months before you next heard from him. Your phone had rang out at
2am, an inebriated Calum slurring down the phone to you. You’d lay in silence, listening
to him as he spilled all the secrets he knew.
Luke was hurting. He would never tell you, but he needed you. He wanted the
little house, the garden, the picket fence. But you were past it now. You were
done with the begging, the torture of being cut out and ignored. You’d crawled
out of the darkness and pieced yourself back together day by day, and you were
stronger than you had ever been. You’d dreamt of spending the rest of your life
with him, but now you had a different dream.
You’d talk to him, if he wanted. If it would make him feel better. But you
would never give him the satisfaction of getting you back. You would always be
the best he could never have.