"She like the strings on my guitar neck and my blonde hair

I write about her thighs in my latest lines

I remember her eyes when I asked her why"

✰

"Ashton you are not wearing that to our first ever gig as a band!" Calum groans, dragging his hands down in his face in stress.

Ashton pouts, turning his body in every direction to examine himself in the large mirror of the dressing room. "Why not?" He holds up his arms that are covered in a brown leather jacket, tassels hanging from the arms. "It'll look cool when I'm playing the drums and shit."

"Because." Michael scoffs. "We're playing at a house party for teenagers, not the American Country Music Awards."

Arlo fails to fight off a giggle, causing the three boys to snap their eyes over to the girl who had been silently observing from a chair in the corner of the dressing room. Luke sits beside her, just as he had for the last two hours rather than actually trying to find an outfit.

"See, even Arlo agrees." Calum crosses his arms over his chest, smirking in triumph. "Ditch the jacket and squeeze your ass into a pair of skinny jeans." The tan boy declares before swiftly slapping Ashton on the back.

The boy yelps, his tasseled jacket sliding off of his shoulders and to the floor of the dressing room in a brown leather heap. "Whatever. " Ashton mumbles. "It wouldn't match my bandanna anyway."

"Why do you even wear that thing anyway?" Michael questions, skimming his rack of options for a new shirt to try on.

"It keeps the sweat out of his eyes." Arlo responds simply, choosing to help out her best friend who looked to be on the edge of a nervous breakdown. "Ash, why don't you wear one of those muscle tanks?" She suggests, knowing him better than most anyone.

Luke knows it's ridiculous, but a pang of jealousy radiates through his chest. He knew for a fact that Arlo and Ashton's relationship was platonic, but that didn't mean he wasn't envious of some of the aspects of it. For example, the way she seemed to know him better than himself. Arlo always seemed to know what Ashton was thinking- she seemed to know what he wanted before even he did.

No one had ever bothered or cared enough about Luke to know him that well. That would change with time, unbeknownst to him.

"What about you, Luke?" Arlo asks suddenly, turning in her seat to face Luke. He sucks in a breath at their proximity, his mind reeling as he tries to bring himself back to reality.

"What about me?" He furrows his brows.

Arlo almost rolls her eyes, though she's not annoyed in the slightest- more so amused. "You haven't picked out a single thing yet. What are you going to wear for your first ever gig?"

Luke shrugs, taking his lip ring nervously between his teeth. "I dunno. What I normally wear I guess."

Arlo stands suddenly, offering out a small manicured hand. Luke's mind blanks as he stares up at her, his eyes wide. As he gapes at her outstretched hand, his throat bobbing with nerves at the mere thought of feeling her skin on his own again, their friends watch fondly.

Michael slyly slides a five-dollar bill into the back pocket of Calum's pants with a groan. Calum smirks. Another bet successfully won.

"Geez, he is whipped." Ashton murmurs, watching the entire exchange.

"Five more bucks says he folds." Calum whispers, pulling his wallet out.

"I'll put five on that." Ashton agrees with a shrug.

Even if Arlo didn't know how pretty she was, he had no doubt the attention from a girl like her could make anyone fold. He thinks this platonically of course- he'd just seen for himself how the male race reacted to her presence. and Luke was certainly no exception.

Michael scoffs lowly, looking at the two boys incredulously. "This is Luke we're talking about." He shakes his head. "He's like the ultimate player."

Finally, Luke places his hand in Arlo's. A shock simultaneously runs through their systems at the contact. Something had shifted between them since the events of early this morning and they both knew it.

Arlo does her best to ignore the way her heart had begun to race as she drags Luke up from his seat, her hand remaining firmly planted in his much larger one as she begins leading him out of the dressing room and through the store.

Luke can barely figure out how to get his feet to move, his brain far too preoccupied with the image of her small hand entangled with his own, the soft feel of her skin, and most intoxicatingly- the way she seemed so focused on helping him.

"I can't believe you weren't going to find an outfit." Arlo says, dropping his hand in favor of sifting through the racks of t-shirts. She does her best to ignore how much she misses the contact as soon as it's gone.

"What's wrong with what I normally wear?" Luke pouts.

It takes every ounce of Arlo's strength to look away from his pretty pink lips and focus on the clothing in front of her. "You deserve to feel special." She shrugs simply. "You can only play your first gig once, after all."

Luke's heart stutters in his chest, hammering around in his rib cage and threatening to break free. You deserve to feel special. Luke exhales shakily, doing his best to appear unaffected when her words are making his head spin.

Arlo's eyes find a row of shirts above her head and Luke assumes she sees something she likes, for she pushes herself up on her tiptoes and reaches for one of the hangers. In doing so, her t-shirt rides up exposing a purple bruise on her hipbone, right above the waist of her jeans.

On instinct, Luke reaches out, his fingertips gently ghosting over the purple bruise. "Fucking hell, Arlo what did you do?"

She can feel the way goosebumps form on the skin his finger had touched, causing Arlo to suck in a breath as she snaps her eyes towards the spot. "Oh." She says with a wince, her cheeks heating in slight embarrassment. "I ran into my coffee table last night."

"How did you manage to do that?" Luke asks, his eyes still on the purple bruise. There was only one kind of bruise that he'd like to see on her skin, and this wasn't it.

I was in a hurry to see you. She thinks, but instead, Arlo shrugs. "I didn't turn the lights on."

Luke frowns, his pointer finger brushing over the tender skin one last time. "Does it hurt?" He asks, gazing down at her. Due to how close the racks are, there isn't much room to stand leaving them inches apart.

Arlo shakes her head. "Not really, I forgot all about it."

Luke, who had begun to get far too caught up in the feel of her skin, averts his eyes away from the mark quickly. "Try to be more careful for me, yeah? Your skins' too pretty to be all bruised up like that."

Arlo fights the urge to let her jaw drop at Luke's words. No one had ever spoken to her like this before, certainly, no one that made her feel the way Luke does. She thought it was kind of unfair how he always managed to make her stomach feel as though it was doing somersaults, so it was only fair that she speak her mind and get even.

"I guess I can try. For you."

Luke's eyes darken, his pupils dilating until only a sliver of intoxicating blue is left. He sets his jaw, as his eyes scan over her, a multitude of less than appropriate thoughts flying through his head as a result of her words.

"Mhm thank you, sweetheart." Luke says lowly, his eyes flicking to the rack of clothes she'd been focused on. "Now be a good girl and help me pick out a shirt."

Arlo's eyes go wide. That had definitely backfired.

Despite the way her breathing had begun to pick up, she turns back to the rack. Arlo begins busying herself with flipping through a couple of leather jackets that had caught her eye rather than trying to process what the hell that moment was.

Eventually, she pulls one of the leather jackets off of the rack. It has silver zippers and a couple of pockets. She holds it up to Luke, nerves running through her veins at the thought that he might not like it. "What about this?"

Luke furrows his brows, his hands running over the high-quality leather. "I like it, but won't it be too hot? Calum's house is going to be so full we won't be able to breathe if it's anything like normal."

Arlo nods in understanding. After all, the only time she'd ever been to Calum's house during a party it was very brief. "Well, you can wear this underneath and take it off when you perform." She suggests, reaching for a white t-shirt that had been made to look worn. The collar had a few purposeful rips as did the hem of the material.

Luke runs his hand over the fabric of the white t-shirt. It was really fucking soft and it would be loose enough to not make him sweat like crazy. And he really did like the leather jacket even if it would cost him a small fortune. He could tell it was high quality just by looking at it.

"What do you think?" Luke asks, raising a brow a the girl beside him. "'You think I'll look like a real rockstar with this outfit?" He holds the hangers up to his chest, a playful smirk on his lips.

Arlo bites her lip to suppress a laugh. She really, really likes this more playful side of him. "I think you will." She says simply.

Although, in her opinion, Luke didn't need a new outfit to look like a rockstar. Maybe it was his cocky demeanor or the black hoop looped through his lip, but Luke Hemmings was without a doubt rockstar material. That was for sure.

Soon enough, all five of their little group would find out how true that would prove to be.

✰

"Can you pass me the salt, please?"

"Coming right up." The girl nods, reaching behind where she sits on the counter to grasp the salt shaker. Arlo hands it to Ashton, earning a thankful smile from her best friend.

"I think dinner will be done in less than ten minutes." Ashton says, stirring the pot of pasta on the stove before bending down to check the garlic bread warming in the oven.

"What would I do without you?" Arlo hums, a happy smile on her face.

She sits on the counter beside the stove, her dark hair damp from her shower and a soft pair of pajamas covering her body. After being up late into the night, spending a few hours at the mall helping the boys, and then sitting through their band practice, she was thoroughly exhausted.

Their first real practice had gone exceptionally well. They sounded amazing, all of their voices harmonizing perfectly and of course, she took special note of how unfairly good Luke's voice sounded. Besides a few timing and lyric errors, it had gone perfectly.

Considering the party where they'd be playing their first gig is the day after tomorrow, the boys were beginning to panic. But, this practice had helped calm their nerves. It gave them confidence that they didn't have previously.

And well, their new outfits helped them become a little more excited even if they weren't willing to admit it.

"Starve, probably." Ashton rolls his eyes, in response to Arlo's question. "Here, check if this is done." Ashton scoops a single piece of pasta out of the pot on the stove and hands it to her.

Arlo blows on the steaming piece of food before popping it into her mouth, humming in satisfaction at the taste. "It's perfect, Ash." She gives him two thumbs up just as the timer on the oven goes off, signaling that the garlic bread is done.

Arlo's parents were gone constantly for work and while the girl had her own card with an unlimited amount of money, she never remembered to get groceries. Ashton noticed pretty early on that her pantry always seemed empty and so, their weekly shopping trips began.

Ashton was pretty sure if he didn't drag Arlo to the grocery store and help her make dinner, the girl would starve or end up eating takeout every day. It was sort of their thing. It gave the two friends a chance to catch up on things too.

After plating the food, Arlo and Ashton take a seat at the bar top rather than the dining room table. They both agreed the dining room felt too formal.

"So..." Ashton begins with a mischievous grin on his face. "What did you think about Luke today at practice?"

Arlo nearly chokes on her pasta, her eyes going wide. The girl coughs, clearing her throat before daring to look at her best friend. "What about him?"

"He sounded nice, don't ya think?" Ashton hums, a shit-eating grin on his face. He had never seen Arlo act this way and it amused him to no end. Especially because Luke acted the same, even if he thought he was hiding it.

"I think he meshes really well with the rest of you." Arlo shrugs nonchalantly. "Do you want more pasta?"

After they were done eating dinner, Ashton excused himself despite Arlo's worries that it was too late for him to be driving home. Ashton only lived a few minutes away, but she still was hesitant about letting him leave.

And maybe Arlo didn't want to be alone.

As soon as Ashton's car pulls down the street, panic sets in. Arlo does her best to ignore the lump in her throat as she busies herself in the kitchen, putting away the last of the freshly washed dishes from dinner.

Arlo had come to terms with the fact that what she felt for Luke was beyond friendly and that scared her out of her fucking mind.

Feelings were something that Arlo simply didn't know how to cope with. The girl grew up with parents who loved their jobs more than their own child and she'd spent most of her teenage years at an all-girls school. She didn't even know what the warm feeling in her chest was.

She makes her way upstairs, trying to push all thoughts of Luke out of her mind as she lays down in her bed.

He was all she could think about and it was getting exhausting. She felt so damn naive, constantly replaying little moments that the boy himself probably didn't think about more than once. Most of all, Arlo was terrified that she was falling for someone that probably didn't reciprocate those feelings.

She rolls over, tugging her blanket to her chest. Though, as soon as she does, a certain familiar-smelling cologne hits her senses.

Her sheets smelled like Luke, from where he'd laid there only the night before.

In an instant, the girl is springing out of bed, tearing her sheets off of the mattress. Arlo drags them all the way downstairs to the washing machine and shoves them inside, slamming the door closed as frustration runs through her veins.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

As Arlo makes her bed with a new set of sheets, she can't get over her own anger for herself. How could she have been so careless to allow herself to develop feelings for Luke Hemmings of all people?

They were opposites in every way. Luke was obviously experienced and well, she wasn't. Luke was confident and sure of himself and Arlo couldn't even look in the mirror most days without having a nervous breakdown.

She collapses into her freshly made bed, a certain coldness seeping into her bones as she accepts what she needs to do. Distance yourself before you get hurt. It was a simple plan and it shouldn't be hard to stick to.

Right?

Arlo had just over a day before she had to see Luke again. While the band had practice tomorrow, Calum had instructed Arlo to hang posters around town in order to draw an even bigger crowd to the party. So, at least she wouldn't have to hear Luke's perfect voice and see his perfect face.

Despite the pang that radiates through her chest at the thought, she was sure that Luke would be busy with a girl like he usually is during the actual party, so it would be easy to avoid him.

Arlo sighs, burying her face into her pillow. What the hell had she done to herself by walking into that bookstore?