instafamous ✩ lrh [DISCONTINUED]

07. masturbation fuel.

Instafamous
07. masturbation fuel.

✖️

As awkward and as quiet as I'd always assumed Luke to be, the guy definitely knew how to turn a simple conversation topic into something we could talk about for hours.

Not a second of the phone call went by where it was just silence. Granted, there were times I'd say some pretty odd stuff, and I never expected him to laugh- but he did.

Likewise, he'd say some things, too- some very flirty than others- and I'd laugh like he did for me. It wasn't weird or scary or awkward. It was just nice.

I found out that we were both living in LA. Despite how much of a fan I've always been of him, I had zero idea; only adding further excitement to my already overwhelming bundle of emotions.

"Maybe we can go out and get a coffee sometime." he'd said to me. I just said yes back, though I knew it probably wasn't going to happen due to how he was Luke fucking Hemmings. A coffee with him meant cameras in every single direction and at least five hundred distressed fangirls creeping into my inbox- I know because I am one.

I have coffee this morning anyway, the instant powder type that's all in one and tastes disgusting. Nevertheless, I pour it into my mug and carry on with my day by taking a seat on the patio. It's no lunchdate with a superstar, but to me, it's pretty damn close.

Ashley comes out to join me later on, her laptop wide open and the contents of her Wattpad account displayed clearly on screen. I've never read anything she's written, though without saying, I really want to.

"What are you writing?" I ask her, taking a sip of my cheap coffee. Her eyes flicker between the keyboard and her phone, which is- unsurprisingly- opened up on Michael Clifford's Instagram page.

"I'm trying to get out of this block," she sighs, pressing the backspace numerous times. "I can't, though."

"You'll do it," I tell her, patting her shoulder reassuringly. "You've done it before."

"Yeah," she sighs, cheeks puffing out as if not believig me in the slightest.

I shift my position, instead choosing to lean over the table with my hands wrapped around the warmed coffee mug. "Why are you on Michael's page?"

"I don't even know. Motivation?" Ashley says, shrugging her shoulders. "Fanfiction Procrastination, honestly."

"Permanent Vacation who?" I joke, and she laughs.

Once Ashley goes back inside, I take the time to go through my Instagram. Much like her, I'm procrastinating, too; only my procrastination is different, because I'm pretending like none of my problems exist rather than just putting them off.

The band's account posted earlier, and I end up staying and stalking through their page for much longer than I should. Then I click off, post a picture of my own, and hold my breath.

sophiexbaby
Can more guys be kinky and want to choke me, please and thank you.

Drumming my fingers against the metal armchair of the patio seat, I watch the likes slowly start to rise. I lean back, a nagging sense of regret at the back of my mind as I see the usernames flood my screen.

"You kinky shit," Bailey chuckles from the doorway, scrolling through her own phone with a smirk. I give her a small smile.

"Didn't know you were awake."

"I've got your notifications on. You post, Ernie pings," she says, referring to her iPhone, in which she labelled Ernie in the first few weeks of having it. "What are you doing still awake?"