"I'm selfish, I know

But I don't ever want to see you with him

Tempted, you know

Apologies are never gonna fix this

I'm empty, I know

And promises are broken like a stitch is

I hope you can see, the shape I've been in

While he's touching your skin"

✰

She looks different.

Her hair is longer, bushing the bottom of her spine, and it's lighter as if she'd been spending a lot of time in the sun. Her eyes are different too, they don't seem as bright as they used to but maybe he'd imagined that to make himself feel better about his own disposition.

Luke Hemmings thought the number of little things he managed to notice about her in the mere fleeting glimpse he caught of her was insanity.

Arlo was a teenager when she was his- they were both stupid eighteen-year-old kids, too young and too dumb to appreciate what they had. Now, she was twenty and he would be turning twenty-one soon.

She definitely didn't look like a teenager anymore. Her face had matured and somehow she was more beautiful than the last time he'd known her-hell he didn't think that was even possible. Her body had changed too- fuck, had it changed. He wasn't sure what she'd been doing while they were apart, but it sure as hell looked like she had reinvented herself.

Every fucking thing about her was different. She dressed so unlike she did before, leather shorts hug her thighs perfectly and her tits were on full display due to the low-cut top she wore and the way she was leaning back against the counter.

Luke bitterly hoped she hadn't changed for him.

He couldn't even begin to describe the betrayal, the pure fucking grief that shot through his chest as he saw who it was that had Arlo pressed against the counter. It was like reliving his worst nightmare, only this time it wasn't acceptable for him to throw the prick against the wall.

She wasn't his anymore, he didn't have the right.

This didn't stop the jealousy from flooding his chest, however. Seeing another man's hands on her skin, on her thighs, and on her face- the same skin he used to have pressed against his own every night, the same skin he kissed, touched, loved- it was enough to drive him insane.

His Arlo, the Arlo he knew would have never been so brazen as to fuck someone in a random ass bathroom she's never been in before. In fact, Luke had a specific memory of his hands trailing up her skirt in the bathroom of the studio in New York, only for her to tell him that she couldn't do it with him there, in a bathroom of all places. What made Beck so different? Or had she just changed that much?

Luke had to leave the bathroom before he did something that might land him with assault charges.

As much as he wished he had the strength to, Luke hadn't been ignoring Arlo's existence for three years like she had his. It started with Luke seeing her name on the writing credits for a song released by his label. He looked into it and found that the artist she'd been writing with was Beck, but he hadn't made the connection of who Beck was to him until tonight.

Luke scoffs bitterly to himself as he takes another swig of his beer. She was fucking the guy she wrote songs with, fucking perfect. He felt the urge to go through all of Beck's songs and pick apart the lyrics, just to try to see into their relationship.

But he doesn't.

Luke knew he'd reverted to his old ways- ingesting more drugs than real food and having a handful of new girls every night. But, somehow what she did was worse.

Arlo left him on her own will and Luke was blind-sighted, the rug resembling their relationship ripped right from underneath his feet and sending him spiraling. Luke hadn't been able to have a relationship since, he didn't want one either, but it seemed Arlo was capable of having one. Luke almost thinks it would hurt less if she was hooking up with randoms like he was.

Luke sits on the back deck of his expensive ass house in the hills with his feet propped up on the railing of the deck as he leans back in a lounge chair, watching the water ripple with the wind in the pool.

He checks the time on his phone and his heart drops. It was nearing midnight and he had to go back inside to celebrate the release of the song with the band. The song about how much he fucking misses her.

As Luke reaches into the cooler beside him for another bottle to take off the edge, Arlo is pressing her forehead to the cool bathroom counter.

Beck rubs her back comfortingly, a wince on his face as a particularly harsh intake of breath leaves her lips. Arlo was panicking, but he'd learned that if he didn't let her work through it on her own, it'd only come back a million times worse.

"I'm the worst person on the planet." Arlo gasps, her arms caging her head in as she leans against the counter. "We have to leave, Beck-"

"You're going to hate yourself even more if you do." Beck hums gently. He always pushed her, more than he probably should sometimes but all he knew was tough love. "You promised Ashton you would be here and you haven't even said hello to him. What about the rest of the band? They used to be your best friends."

"Well, they probably hate me too." Arlo raises her head from the counter and presses her palms to her flushed cheeks, trying to calm herself. "This was a bad, bad, idea."

"I don't think he looked that upset." Beck shrugs, running a hand through his messy hair. "He was probably just pissed because he thought we were fucking in his bathroom."

Arlo stops immediately, her entire body freezing as she snaps her eyes to meet his green ones. "Really?" It's almost embarrassing how desperate her voice sounds. "You don't think he cared?"

Beck shrugs, trying to read the expression on Arlo's face. He couldn't tell exactly what was going through her head, but he knew one thing for sure. She definitely was not over him like she'd reassured him she was.

Beck didn't really blame her though. Their breakup was fucked and yes- he knew the whole story, the real one. Not the one where Arlo needed to make her ex jealous.

Even if Arlo was at fault for their breakup, Beck still didn't really like Luke. Every time he'd met the guy he was a complete asshole and to put things simply, he was the only thing in the world that Beck had ever seen make Arlo cry. Beck may have a habit of giving Arlo hell, but deep down he cared for her more than anyone else in the world. She was his family, the only person he had left.

"Do you really care?" Beck raises a brow in question. "I thought we were over him, Lo?" He hums, despite the fact that he knows that Arlo is nowhere near over Luke. The breakup was so sudden and forced that she never really had time to recover.

"No." Arlo lies through her teeth, looking away from his green eyes. "It's been three years. He moved on and so have I."

"You've moved on?" Beck asks smugly and Arlo just knows what he's about to say. "Because if I'm remembering correctly, last month we were at a gig and that guy was so down to fuck and you started hyperventilating-"

"Beckham." Arlo narrows her eyes, pulling at the hem of her skirt to occupy her hands. "We agreed not to talk about that."

"Alright, we won't." He holds his hand up in defense as he makes his way to the door. "You have two options- go downstairs and get hammered with me, or go home and get hammered with me while we watch a cooking show."

"Option two." Arlo says immediately, causing a laugh to fall from Beckham's lips as he grabs her wrist, tugging her along.

"Too bad." Beck sends her a mischievous grin. "We're facing our fears tonight."

✰

Arlo is drunk.

The head-spinning, heat flashes, mind moving way too slow type of drunk. She hated the taste of alcohol and she was prone to getting the worst hangovers known to mankind, so she didn't get drunk very often. Tonight seemed to be an exception, though.

Ashton's house is so crowded that Arlo can't tell where the living room ends and the stairs begin. Hell, she lost Beck an hour ago and hadn't seen him since. All Arlo really knew at the moment was that the house felt like a time warp- she didn't know how long she'd been there and she didn't know what time it was either.

Arlo leans against the kitchen island, fumbling with a bottle of water. She didn't plan to stop drinking until she completely forgot the memory of him again, but she also didn't want to end up with alcohol poisoning.

"You need help with that?"

Before Arlo knows what's happening a tan, tattooed hand takes the bottle of water from her hand. Arlo looks up with wide eyes to find no other than Calum Hood in front of her. He looked a lot different, a lot less like a kid and a lot more like a man, causing her eyes to widen.

"Thanks." She mumbles in slight shock as Calum hands her the opened bottle. She lifts it to her lips, taking a few sips as Calum watches with a look on his face that Arlo can't quite distinguish.

"Mhm." Calum merely nods, leaning against the counter beside her. "You didn't say hi to me when you walked in. I've been lookin' around for you for hours." He says, a flash of hurt on his face.

Arlo frowns, guilt flooding her chest. "I didn't know if it was you..." She trails. "I haven't seen you since you looked-"

"You haven't checked in on us?" Calum asks, his eyes searching her own for answers. "I know you and Ashton were best friends before the band, but fuck, Arlo." He shakes his head, brown eyes downcast. "I didn't expect you to disappear for three years."

Suddenly, the water in her throat feels like glass. She struggles to swallow, her eyes failing to meet his own. "I thought you hated me. I'd expect you to."

Calum wants to say something about how he didn't believe what went down between her and Luke for a second. He wants to ask Arlo about all of the theories he and Michael had concocted over the last few years. But, he doesn't, for out of the corner of his eyes he sees a certain blond sitting on the back deck alone and he can't quite help himself.

"I don't hate you. Never could, you used to be my best friend." Calum shrugs simply, watching as her eyes widen. He takes her arm gently and begins leading her through the house. "Which is how I know that you hate big crowds, especially when you're drunk. Why don't you get some air and we can talk later?"

Arlo's brain feels miles behind as Calum leads her through the house. It's a blur of people and strobe lights and she can't even really feel his grip on her arm, but she's too drunk to argue. So, she lets him. Some fresh air sounded really nice anyway.

They come to a large sliding glass door and Calum opens it, stumbling slightly as he struggles to open it. "Nobody really comes out here." He informs her. "I'll come and get you after a while."

Arlo merely nods dazedly, far too caught up in the refreshing feeling of the cool spring air on her burning skin. The reflection of the pool water on the far side of the yard catches her attention and she stumbles toward the railing, lazily brushing her hair away off her neck.

She's so drunk in fact, that she doesn't even register the brooding blond man sitting in one of the lounge chairs by the railing. In fact, she walks right past him, close enough for him to pick up the familiar smell of her perfume.

As much as he hates to admit it, Luke's heart is hammering in his chest as he watches her rest her elbows on the railing of the porch, her eyes on the full moon in the sky. He knows he should probably go inside and find some random to fuck before the pain in his chest got any worse, but she was far too tempting.

Luke takes a swig from his beer, the mouth of the bottle clinking against his teeth as he pulls himself up from the lounge chair. He stands beside her, their elbows only a foot apart. "You're drunk."

Arlo had been so lost in her own drunken mind that she hadn't even seen him approach. His sudden words and the familiarity of his voice shock her to her very core, causing her to stumble on her heels.

Luke's hand shoots out on instinct, his much larger hand finding her elbow, the other skimming her waist as he steadies her. He opens his mouth to make a snarky comment but the insult dies in his throat because for the first time in three fucking years, he was feeling her skin against his own.

A gasp lodges itself in both of their throats, a pair of blue eyes widening and a pair of brown ones doing the same. All of the air in the entire world seems to be sucked from their lungs, everything around them fading to black as they're in each other's presence again.

Luke looks down to where his hand rests on her arm, his brows furrowing as he finds a series of white marks that hadn't been there before. He'd seen every inch of her body, hell he'd memorized it and he knew for a fact that he'd have remembered a scar, certainly one that big.

"What happened?" He asks before he can stop himself.

Suddenly, he was no longer looking at Arlo like she was the girl who broke his heart. He was looking at her like he used to, the way she remembered him to, and it nearly knocks the wind out of her chest.

Luke promises himself that it's nothing but an instinct when his thumb begins lightly skimming over the raised skin. Nothing more.

"I broke my arm a couple of months ago." Arlo mumbles, her voice so quiet that he can barely hear her.

He likes that her voice is still so quiet. Now he has an excuse to lean closer.

"How?" Luke asks, a familiar sense of satisfaction running through his veins as a chill runs down her spine at the low tone of his voice.

"Long story." Arlo swallows thickly, her voice strained. He's close, almost too close and she can smell his cologne and see the slight shimmer of glitter on his eyelids.

He looks different.

Luke has curls now, pretty golden curls that reach the base of his neck and fall perfectly into place. Arlo loved his hair before but now, he looks angelic. He's so much more mature looking now, his jawline sharper as he'd outgrown the last years of his boyhood. He was more built too, his chest firmer and his arms housing more muscle than he'd had before.

He dressed differently too. With an intoxicating red silk button up halfway undone and exposing his chest, Arlo couldn't quite breathe. He'd seemed to ditch the black skinny jeans too which Arlo finds to be the most shocking.

Luke's blue eyes watch as her own scan over his body. It makes his chest feel warm and he hates it. "Tell me." He demands lowly.

The blond doesn't really know why it's so important to him that he finds out how she'd broken her arm. Although, deep down he knew he was scrambling for details of her life without him.

Was she happy? Where was she living? Did she ever make up with her parents? Was she still scared of needles and did she still love the rain?

Arlo's eyes widen at his tone as she stumbles over her words. "I was at a gig and the guitarist was high on something- meth I think, it was pretty bad." She rambles, her words slurring from the alcohol. "I was helping him carry the band's equipment out to the van and he accidentally slammed my arm in the door. It was an accident, I think."

Luke clenches his jaw, the familiar sensation of anger flooding his system. If she hadn't broken his heart she wouldn't have been at a random gig. She wouldn't have felt the need to help some strung-out asshole because she'd be in his arm where she belonged. If Arlo had just fucking loved him back she wouldn't have a scar on her arm and Luke wouldn't need to down half of his weight in substances to get through the day without crying like a pussy.

He doesn't tell her any of those things though, he drops her elbow as if he'd been burned, white-knuckling the railing instead. "What gig where you at?" Luke's eyes find her own and he has his answer immediately as guilt flashes across her face. He nods bitterly. "Right, your boyfriend"

The word boyfriend makes him feel sick to his stomach and suddenly, looking at her, being in her presence is too much. He'd spent three years finding ways to dull the ache in his chest from the hole she'd left in his heart and just like that- a few minutes in her presence and she'd ripped the bandages right off, causing his heart to bleed at her will again.

"Luke, wait. He's not-" Arlo blurts in a desperate attempt to keep him there. It hurt like hell to be in his presence but she found that it hurt worse to watch him walk away

Arlo looks so fine, so unbothered when he felt like he hadn't been himself in years. Luke felt like he'd been walking around living outside of his body, a stranger to himself ever since she'd left. It may be cruel, but for the first time in his life, Luke wants her to feel his pain instead of protecting her from all of the brutal emotions in the world.

So, he says the first thing he can think of- something that he knows will hurt her the most. "Arlo?" Luke's back is to her as he speaks, for while he wants her to feel his pain, he's not strong enough to watch her crumble. He isn't sure that he could stop himself from comforting her.

Her brown eyes water, though she doesn't know why as she swallows thickly. "Yeah?"

"Thanks for all of the hits." Luke says, a faux cocky tone dripping from his words. "Made my life a lot easier, helped me buy a house too. I'm glad you were good for something."