Catch Fire (Luke Hemmings Fanfiction)

Do You Want Me (Dead?)

LOU'S POV:

"I need a second to catch my breath, do you want me or do you want me dead?

Oh give it up for at least a second, I'm getting sick of your bullshit attitude

And how you walk around like you shine brighter, it's killing me

So what do you say, do you want me or do you want me dead?"

Over the next week, I more or less successfully avoid Luke. But I at least manage not to be trapped in a room alone with him, which doesn't refrain him from sending me knowing grins whenever my eyes stray to his face or his body. It doesn't help my case that I often get distracted by memories of our previous trysts or that stolen moment on the kitchen. God, that was hot. Wrong, but oh so very hot. To this day I can't believe we didn't get caught.

Thankfully I've been occupied with work for the most part of the days. I finally met my producer, an adorable forty-something year old guy named Jude. He's really chill and into all kinds of music, so I can find myself talking to him about good old rock just as well as modern pop or country. It's amazing, really. We've added the finishing touches to my first song on the very first day and have been working on some others in the last few days. With every lyric, every guitar part, the vibe of the album gets drawn and it's safe to say I'm falling in love with it. Hopefully other people will like it too.

I'm actually going to find out much sooner than I expected, because yesterday I got a call from my manager saying I was to perform at a radioshow later tonight. To say the news were nerve-racking is an understatement, but on the other hand I'm excited to perform in public and live for the first time. Jude helped me deciding on the setlist: Gasoline by Halsey, Jet Black Heart by 5 Seconds of Summer and The eyes of a killer, my own song.

The guys are working in the studio today but they promised with a wicked smile that they'd be watching my performance very closely. I still don't know whether to be flattered or freaked out, to be honest.

Since I don't have a clue what to wear and I'm not cool enough that I have a personal clothes assistant, I fall back on my good friend Twitter.

@GoAwayPeasant: Guys I have my first radio appearance in two hours what do I wear?¿? :0

The amount of people replying "nothing" is astonishing. I do find some reasonable suggestions, and including one that says to just wear something that makes me feel both comfortable and confident, as I'll most likely get a bit stressed. Smiling, I give the girl a follow and opt for a pair of black ripped jeans and a yellow, cropped sweater with the DropDead smiley-face logo on it. Add to that a pair of Vans, some mascara and eyeliner and I'm all good. I grab my guitar and text my manager that I'm ready. She rings on my doorbell a few minutes later, inspects my outfit and makes a face.

"I suppose you can't...wear some better shoes?"

I raise my eyebrows, pointing at my thigh-high boots.

"Those any better?"

She grimaces.

"You don't have any stilettos, by any chance?"

"I'm not good with pointy heels."

"Oh well, this will have to do. Untie your hair. Let's go."

A cab is waiting for us just outside the apartment and I notice for the umpteenth time that while the boys are constantly followed by at least three bodyguards, I'm still free as ever. I can't figure out if it's a good or a bad thing. Like, obviously it must be frustrating to never really be alone, but on the other hand it means you are so successful and loved that your fans are willing to go to insane lengths to meet you. And yeah, it's a little creepy, but definitely cool.