30. good luck kiss.

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"You've got this," I say, patting Luke's back in encouragement, "Okay? There's no need to be nervous,"

"I'm not nervous," he says, though there's a frown on his face and his fingers are fumbling together, "Shit, Soph. Why am I nervous?"

"You have no reason to be. It's just an interview,"

"It's not even that, it's a radio interview," Michael pops his head around the corner, taking his earphones out, "It's not a big deal, mate. We've done these before,"

"I never knew you guys got antsy before interviews," I say, raising an eyebrow.

Michael shakes his head, "We don't. Luke does,"

"I'm just worried that I'll trip up on what I have to say," Luke reasons.

"Yeah, right. You just don't want to look like an idiot in front of your girlfriend," he smirks. To my surprise, yet again, Luke nods with zero hesitation.

"Definitely that too."

"You always look so calm in interviews, though," I say, a slight frown on my face as Michael leaves to find the other two, "Every one I've seen, you've never looked like you were nervous beforehand,"

"I'm alright once it gets going. It starts to feel like I'm talking to a friend," I watch as he rakes a hand through his unruly blond hair, sighing, "But they give us these cards to read off of, and it's unnerving having to fit everything in such a short amount of time,"

"Cards?" I repeat.

Luke nods, "Like cue cards. Important tour dates to mention, statements about our personal lives-"

"Such as?"

"Who we're dating is one of them," he's quick to tell me, and my face falls, "But don't worry! Management tried to get me to own up about you and I told them no,"

"You did?" I ask, my spirits being lifted.

"I did," he smiles softly at me, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, "I know you don't want me to say anything about us. And that's fine. They weren't too happy about it, though,"

"I'm sorry," I frown, feeling like a burden.

"Don't be," I feel Luke's lips press softly against my forehead as he pulls me in for a small hug. "I understand."

I smile at his touch, feeling at ease again. "Do you have the cards with you now?"

He shakes his head, "Not yet. Someone from management's supposed to give it to me as I walk in, so that I don't find a loophole or whatever with what I'm going to say,"

I want him to chuckle, to laugh at his statement and prove to me that he's joking. But the playful tone never comes, wholly because it's the sad truth.

The boys get controlled to a certain extent. Ashton told me the night that they crashed in through my window that it was a miracle as to how Luke even got to contact me through Instagram. They have people surveying their accounts, too.

I guess Luke hid it very well, because nobody at Management picked up on it. I'm also guessing that he deleted our messages straight after they'd been sent and received, too. He went through a lot just to get me to talk to him and looking back on it now, I wish I never made it so difficult.

It's alright though, because their Publicity Stunt managers can access a lot of things but they're prohibited from touching the boys' phones.

No, phones are more on the private side, so every text and call and FaceTime session with Luke remains are low-key as we allow it.

"Fuck," Luke groans, holding me by the waist and burying his head in my shoulder.

He's sitting on the stool now, pulling me in between his legs so that he has something to lean against. In the quiet atmosphere of the room, I swear I'm close to hearing his heartbeat.

"Baby, I'm fucking nervous."

"Stop worrying," I murmur, leaning back slightly so that I can see his face.

His bright blue eyes glint in my direction, filled with either worry, nerves, or fear. I'd much rather stay here for the rest of the day filling my mind with admiration for them, but unfortunately, that's not an option we have the luxury to pick at. He has to go, and judging from the movement outside, I'm guessing he has to go soon.

"I'll be here waiting for you," I say, as Luke begins to stand up.

He looks back at me with a frown, "You're not coming with me?"

"I'm not a part of the band," I joke, about to unlock our fingers.

Luke shakes his head, "You don't need to be. You can sit in the little room right next to where we're having the interview,"

"I can do that?"

He nods, "You can hear everything then. And because it's a glass wall, I can see you, so I won't be as anxious,"

"Won't they question who I am?"

"They already know," he says. My eyes widen, "But they don't mind! Trust me, all you have to do is sit there and look pretty. That shouldn't be a problem,"

I roll my eyes at him, laughing a little.

"Alright," I smile, tightening my grip on Luke's hand with a reassuring squeeze, "Let's go."

We catch up to Calum and Michael on the way, them giving me wide grins and side-hugs as Luke wipes his clammy hands on his skinny jeans. It's almost daunting how anxious he is.

"Remember," I say, smiling as I place my hands on his shoulders. The other guys make their way inside of the booth, with Luke staying behind for a bit. The interview doesn't start for another ten minutes, anyway. "You'll do fine. Just look at the card management gives you and you'll be okay,"

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the boys picking up their own cards. Each one is taped to the desk in front of them, practically giving them all an assigned seat to sit in.

I can tell by the way their expressions differ- one happy, one stoic, one indifferent- while reading them that none of the guys have the same piece of information to broadcast on live radio.

Their eyes flicker between their cards to each other, eyebrows furrowing. Something in my stomach clenches with discouragement.

"What would I do without you?" Luke mumbles, screwing his eyes shut before letting out a deep breath. Once he opens them again, he outstretches his arms.

I step into them quickly, aware of the fact that we're running out of time. I'm also aware of how Calum's gaze lands on Luke's personal card and his eyes widen.

He nudges Michael. Michael reads it, and his expression is a scarily accurate replica of the bassist's. They both nudge Ashton, who reads it too, does a double take, and lets out a sigh of disbelief.

When they all look up, a part of me wishes that their pitying expressions were meant to be aimed towards Luke. But they're not.

They're aimed at me.

"When I come back, I swear we'll go out and do something fun," Luke grumbles, massaging his temples with a slight sigh. I laugh softly, "I mean it. You deserve it after babying me this whole morning,"

"I don't mind," I say, giving him one last hug, "It's nice being here for you."

"Glad to hear it," he mumbles, before craning his neck and resting his forehead against mine, "Can I get a good luck kiss?"

I don't hesitate as I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down and shivering at the feel of his lips against mine.

It feels great, knowing that that one action has the ability to calm us both. But then we pull away, and I see Ashton in the booth silently arguing with someone in a smart looking suit over Luke's card, and my heart plummets to the pit of my stomach yet again.

"I'll be right here," I gesture to one of the empty couches just opposite the glass wall, "If you ever feel like you don't know what to say, look over and pretend like I'm the only one in the room. Like you're just talking to me,"

"That doesn't help," he chuckles nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

"Then look at one of the guys. Trust me, you'll-"

"No," Luke shakes his head, closing the gap between us and lowering his voice, "I'm worried that if I look over at you, I'll end up getting a fucking boner, or something,"

"That's just the nerves talking," I'm quick to say, already feeling the heat creeping up to my cheeks. His laugh is slow, and very quiet, followed by a steady intake of breath.

"Luke," the same guy that Ashton was talking to a few minutes prior pops his head around the doorway, eyes expectant. There's something in his gaze that makes me look away, and I take a seat on the couch just to avoid it. "Come on. They're starting soon."

Luke just nods, about to follow after him when he looks back at me. I give him a wide smile and two thumbs up, silently letting him know that he has my full support.

Much to my relief, it works, and it's not too long before Luke's in his seat and I'm watching them; half-live, half through the TV screen mounted on the wall. The couch is lower down and I can only see leg if I look at them straight on, so the screen's pretty much my saving grace right now.

When my gaze falls on Luke, I can't help but gulp as he freezes. He's reading his card, and he doesn't look too happy.

The guys all nudge him, and I'm pretty sure I can hear the phrase, 'It'll be alright' in there somewhere, but the interviewer begins before I have time to pick up on anything else.

He's loud, and he calls himself Chris. The boys all fake smiles back, all apart from Luke, who hasn't moved an inch since reading the information on the piece of paper in front of him.

Chris starts to ask them questions, your typical band-interviewer trying to get gossip, and I listen intently as they all reveal what they've been up to. I know all of it already, but it's just nice feeling like I'm fifteen again and in the car next to Dylan, cranking the volume up whenever their voices propel through the stereo.

The topic of dating appears much earlier than I thought it would, and that's when I really start to pay attention. Not that I wasn't being vigilant enough before, but still; I can't afford to miss any of this now.

Ashton says that he's single, and just testing out the waters of being a bachelor for as long as his heart can allow him. This causes a loud round of 'ooh's and 'ah's, both from the guys and the radio crew, and even I have to suppress my giggle.

Next is Calum, and he talks about how his dog is his main priority for the time being, seeing as he's a puppy and still has a lot to get used to. Chris practically applauds him.

I record Michael's response with no hesitation, knowing that whatever he says, Ashley would like to know. There's no doubt that she's back at home listening to this very broadcast right now, but at least I'm still thinking about her.

He says that he doesn't know where he stands, but there's this girl and 'she's kinda hot'. For a second, my heart deflates because there's a possibility that he's talking about someone else; but then Michael mentions toast, Cheetos and coloured hair, and my shoulders are able to relax yet again.

Luke's the last one to speak, and I'm entirely certain that his answer will be exactly like Ashton's, only shorter and sweeter because he's never been the type to go into too much detail.

"So, Luke," Chris begins, a smirk playing on his face, "Your turn. Has a lucky lady managed to capture your heart yet at all, or..?"

I wait for his answer to be over. I wait for him to finally be able to relax his shoulders again, to look over at me with a sly smile on his lips and a chest with no burdens.

Only he doesn't. He hasn't looked at me since he sat down and read his card, and I don't know what to feel.

"Actually..." Luke begins, and my heart flips at the sultry sound of his low voice. It's deeper in real life than it is on the radio, but it's mesmerising all the same.

Waiting is a game, and it's a game I've never really been good at. It's a game I'm also known to lose, for the tension in the air surrounding Luke's next few words remind me of my impatience as I think about interrupting the interview to ask him what the fuck is going on;

"Yes. Yes, there is."

I freeze. Chris hollers. The guys all bow their heads.

I don't know what Luke's doing, what he thinks he's doing, and what on earth he thought the outcome would be. But I don't move, because there are two possibilities of this interview turning out and I'm not sure if I like either of them.

The torment is already over, as Chris begs him to say his mystery lover's name out loud. I look at my fingers, waiting for Sophie Hayes, waiting for the exposing accounts to type those very letters into the Google search engine, waiting for them to find a plethora of mistakes I've made in the past, waiting for Ashley to ready the knives and waiting for Chloe to try and stop her.

Waiting and waiting and waiting, but the thing I'm waiting for never comes.

"Holly..."

Holly. My name's not Holly. But the name sounds familiar, and it's on the tip of my tongue yet I can't understand it.

I look up, dazed, confused and agitated, as Luke's jaw clenches and he continues reading from his card.

"Holly Morane."

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