Catch Fire (Luke Hemmings Fanfiction)

Return The Favor

LOU'S POV: Return The Favor – All Time Low

"What do you want me to do, I've given it all to you, I wish you would return the favor

Are you gonna throw it all away (do me a favor), are we gonna do this all again?

Maybe it's all pretend and this game should end, I guess nobody wins (won't you let me know)

How do I get away, when you're begging me to stay, what do you need me to say?"

I wake up with a strange, empty sensation in my stomach, and instantly I grab my phone from the nightstand. Twitter notifies me that yes, Luke and I are still the talk of the moment, but the only thing management has texted me is that I have a photo-shoot later this afternoon. So we're ignoring the situation, then. Much like I am ignoring my feelings.

I don't want to get up but Jude and I agreed to wrap up the album today, re-listening to it and adding the final touches where necessary. Feeling the slightest bit like a zombie, I get dressed and head out without saying goodbye to the boys, who are prepping for a radio appearance.

It only takes us a few hours to completely finish the thing, having added some background sounds and voice effects to wrap it all up in a pretty bow. Jude invites me over for lunch in celebration, but I decline. I have to talk to Luke.

Because I can't, suddenly. It's like I've reached the end of my roll and I can't deal with hookups when I know that he doesn't care for me the way I do for him. It doesn't help that half of our fandom believes that we're a couple. The montages and ranting and analysis that they're doing feels like they're dangling a dream in front of me, a dream I know never will come true.

And the worst is that at times, we're so close. At times I feel like he's asking for more, like when he spilled his darkest fears to me, when he held me so tight in his sleep, and even when he put his arm around me to ward off the advances of yesterday's interviewer. 

But I don't know what more to give, what he wants me to do, because every time I end up doing what he asks, and every time it still isn't enough. Because he doesn't return the damn favor. I've seen bits and pieces of the real Luke, yes. But I said one wrong thing and he shut down on me, and suddenly all I get is this polished version of a sexy rockstar, and I know it's the version that he gives to the media and that he abhors. And now he gives it to me.

I feel so lost and hurt and all I can think is that it needs to end.

I find Luke in his bedroom. He looks up with little to no interest when I walk in, and I swallow down my nerves. Because he's all tousled hair and tired eyes and I want nothing more than to be able to curl up next to him and sleep forever. Somehow I manage to gather the strength to enunciate clearly:

"We're done."

His eyes widen a fraction, but his face stays somewhat blank, uncaring. It feels like someone pressed a needle to my heart and the poison's spreading cold through my veins, everywhere.

"What do you mean we're done?"

"We're not having sex anymore. We're reverting back to friends-without-benefits," I shrug, and then add under my breath. "If we ever even were."

This seems to tick Luke off, because his jaw tightens and when he speaks again, there are clear undertones of anger in his voice.

"And am I getting an explanation?"

"No."

"What the fuck do you mean I don't get an explanation? You can't just decide that you don't want this anymore out of nowhere!"