Summary: Part 2: Luke plays the song he wrote for you to try to win you back
Word Count: 902
A/N: His POV. Based on Your Song by Mayday Parade (also here’s the acoustic version which I’m obsessed with). I’m planning to wrap things up in part 3. Trigger warning: bullying (?)
(Here’s Part one)
And every line in every song
They all seemed to come out wrong
Until your song
I stayed up most of the night, guitar in my hands, pen between my teeth. I wrote and crossed out and re-wrote more times than I could count. Around 3AM, I felt like I was really getting somewhere with the song. At 5, I hit a brick wall that had me so frustrated I wanted to throw my guitar across the room. At 7, my eyes started to feel heavy, but I was reluctant to succumb to sleep. At 9, Calum knocked on the door. I had just dozed off, still holding the guitar and sitting in front of my notebook.
“Luke? Have you been up all night?” Calum asked after I jolted awake. I muttered mhmm and started scribbling more lines down on the paper. Calum took the book away, despite my protests, and read the song I had been writing. He sat down on the bed next to me, studying the paper.
“You wrote this for her?” He asked, looking up at me. I nodded, finally starting to feel the exhaustion set in. I rubbed my eyes and fought to remain awake.
“Well it’s really good, man, but you can’t do this to yourself,” Calum looked at me gravely. “We’ve got a show tonight, and you need to get some sleep.”
“No, I have to finish this,” I insisted, snatching the notebook back from him. “I have to get it right.” I tried playing through the chord progression for the millionth time, but something was still off. Calum sighed and left the room. A few minutes of frustrating alterations later, Cal returned with his bass and sat down again.
“Mikey and Ash are coming down. We’re helping you finish this damn song.”
By lunch time, the four of us sat around my room, instruments in our hands and a finished song on the page in front of us. I went through it in my head one more time, making sure it was completely right.
“I want to play it tonight,” I said. They all looked uneasy.
“I don’t know, Luke. I mean we just finished it. We haven’t had time to rehearse it or anything,” Ashton started to protest, but I wouldn’t back down.
“Please, guys. I need to play this for her tonight and tell everyone to leave her alone. I need to win her back and this is the only plan I have.” It took some convincing, but they eventually came around. The three of them left the room I could get a few hours of much-needed sleep before soundcheck.
I’ll sing every song I wrote if it’ll make you wanna stay
And I’ll say that I missed you
And these words, they’ll convince you
That night, I stood backstage and watched the countdown as the crowd screamed. Nerves ate away at my stomach. I wasn’t nervous for the show, but for what I was planning to say to the fans, and for the new song. Most of all, I was worried that after all of this, it still wouldn’t be enough to convince Y/N to come back. I didn’t have much time to think about all of this, because before I knew it, I was running out onto the stage. The boys and I went through our setlist as usual. After one of the last songs, I nodded to the others to signal it was time.
“So, we have an, um, special addition to our show tonight,” Ashton said uneasily. “Luke has something he’d like to say to you all.” The crowd fell silent. I took a deep breath and chose my words very carefully.
“So, recently some people have been harassing someone very close to me on social media. I know it’s not everyone, but it’s enough people that it has really hurt that person. And I’m telling you that it stops right now. I love you guys, and I love performing for your and meeting you, but I can’t do it at the cost of the people I love. I’m asking you please, if you really care about me and this band, to lay off.” The crowd was so quiet, I thought I could hear a pin drop.
“Well, anyway,” Michael began, breaking the silence, “we have a new song for you tonight.” The audience broke out in whispers.
“We’ve just written it this morning, so it doesn’t really have a name yet,” I said, my hands starting to shake. “But, to the person this is about: you know who you are. This is your song.”
And with that, we all started to play. I poured every last ounce of myself into the song. I thought about Y/N and the way I felt when she walked into a room, her smile, the way it felt to kiss her, and the look that would be on her face when she heard this. I thought about how much I loved her, and really gave everything I had to this performance.
When it was over, the crowd went wild. I could see people crying in the front row, and noticed I had a few tears on my own cheeks. When the boys and I started playing our encore, I noticed that my nerves had been relieved. I had done all I could, I just hoped it was enough.