The Stepbrother // Luke Hemmings

It's Called Customer Service

4
It's Called Customer Service

I have got to get curtains.

That's the only thing running through my mind when I wake up the next morning with the sun beating down on my face. I thrash around under the covers before kicking my feet over the edge of my bed and sitting up.

It smells of bacon and pancakes and I'm a hundred percent sure that it's my mom who's singing obnoxiously loud alongside upbeat music. "God, give me strength."

Screwing my fist in my eye, I grab my bag of toiletries out of my carry-on, stumble around empty moving boxes and head out into the hallway, across to the bathroom.

Apparently, this is Luke's bathroom. He has some kind of black color scheme going on, it smells too much of what probably is AXE cologne, and I take notice of his hair product collection again. I quickly pee, making sure not to touch the toilet seat because who knows what the fûck has been on there and I use my toes to flush. Clearing the sink of dozens of bottles of hair conditioner, gels and sprays, I start to brush my teeth.

"When you ready, come and get it, na na na na!" I sing through a mouthful of toothpaste. In fact, I'm so busy singing and dancing around in the huge mirror that I hardly notice when the door pushes open and a shirtless Luke pushes past me.

I quickly spit in the sink, dragging the back of my hand across my mouth. "Hello? Do you not see me in here!"

"My bathroom," he groggily mumbles. "My house, my rules."

"Okay, whatever," I say, not in the mood to even expand on his stupid statement. "But I was in here first, so get out and just wait your turn."

Flannel pajama pants sit at his waist, revealing the black band of his boxer briefs and he lets out a yawn, before grabbing his toothbrush out of the cup holder and my toothpaste, "I don't think so."

For a second, I have half the mind to snatch my toothpaste from him but then it's already too late. Annoyed, I hold my ground and decide to finish my morning routine, whether he's in here or not. I take my time brushing my teeth, aware that Luke's staring at me through the mirror. "Why don't you just take a picture? It lasts longer." Dropping my toothbrush in the holder, I grab my hairbrush and start to carefully brush out my curls.

Luke elbows me in my side, "Can you not get those split ends all over my sink?"

"Oh, shut up." I braid my hair over my shoulder and wash my face before packing up my things. Then with a sigh, I motion towards the sink, "Since we're gonna be sharing this bathroom from now on, I figure we need to settle a compromise. You need to minimize the number of hair products you have in here. Preferably three. Four if it's in a 20 oz. or smaller sized bottle."

My arms cross over my chest and I watch as Luke looks down at the sink. Blue eyes narrow and he pulls his toothbrush from his mouth, before scrunching up his face. "Let's get one thing clear, Annie. We're not sharing anything." He wipes his mouth, rinses and then sets his toothbrush down.

I let out a dry laugh. "My mom is engaged to your dad, therefore as of yesterday afternoon, this is currently my house. Which means, that this is our bathroom and I say, you need to move some of your stuff."

With a slight smirk, he shakes his head and pushes himself up off the sink, "Cute." He gently pats my cheek twice and pushes past me before calling out, "But I'm still not sharing, sweet cheeks."

--

"Annie doll, are you sure you don't want a ride? I'm not doing anything, I can take you."

Trying my hardest not to roll my eyes, I adjust my purse higher up my shoulder and shake my head at my mother for the fourth time. "I said, I was fine. I can walk."