"They say someday I will learn to draw strength of my own, that I will no longer have to rely on you for what I desperately need. I hope that never happens."
- Merceades Bennett

**

Luke's Point of View

I haven't slept in a week. We have done three shows and been in three different countries in six days and I have slept for none of it.

One week. 

She has been gone one week.

No one has talked to me for a week either because I have only barked at them for a week. A week of more torture. A week of my hands being a bitch again. I hate it all.

"@Luke5SOS: Europe you're up next."

I send a quick tweet out to calm down the raging fans a little. They sensed everything that was wrong and they knew something was wrong now. No amount of videos of Ashton yapping away calmed their questions or worries down.

Sitting in the hotel lobby with my head inches away from my iPhone screen is my best attempt at hiding myself from the world today. It takes me a lot of effort to not punch a few of my hyper band mates that are sitting next to me.

Control. Breathe in breathe out.

I scroll through Twitter, pausing to read a tweet from time to time. This usually gives me a headache but today I need distractions or I would pass out on this very couch and never wake up again.

Social media is a mess too. A bigger mess than it usually is. Sierra and I, or according to the fans 'Luerra' were the "best thing ever." and they think that we've "broken up." Because Sierra was spotted back in London, halfway across the world from me. I should have checked Twitter the day she left instead of asking Montana.

Reading some of the things they write about us pissed me off rather than distract me. I didn't know if I should laugh or cry at some of their statements or write a song about all this shit. Why are we even called lyricists when fans come up with even better stories and theories to write songs about?

I wanted to rage at a whole lot of them too. The ones that insulted her and blamed her. She is gone and she's not coming back because I pushed her away, I did that. Not her.

You can't even fall asleep. How will you defend a woman over social media, Luke?

I close my Twitter app before I say something that I will regret and open up the photo library. That place is even worse. So many pictures of her from our time out together. So many that I took of her when she wasn't looking. So many different poses and so many bright smiles. I love the ones of her that I took when she was so lost in thought, you can almost see into the closed off world in her head through the picture. I wanted to go there, it's the only place I wanted to go and visit. It must be beautiful chaos in there.

I loved every single one of these pictures. Every single one was beautiful to me.

Only if I had let you in...

"I like that picture." A voice says over my shoulder. I crane my neck around to see who it is and shove the phone face down onto my lap. No one is allowed to see these pictures. Fuck.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you not to sneak up on other people?" I snap at Montana. Ashton is no longer sitting next to me and I hadn't noticed him leave. Montana plops down next to me and pulls her legs up onto the plush sofa.

I push forwards and move to stand up so I can walk away but she puts an arm out and grabs my hand, forcing me to sit back down.

"My parents taught me a lot of things, Luke. They also taught me that if I ever want to prove a point, I should do it no matter what. Sit down." She accentuates every word like I'm a little child. I feel the familiar rush of blood in my veins, the kind of rushing that I hate so much. The kind that drives me to either hit someone or make a sappy life choice that I will regret later.

"Don't touch me," I growl at her and pull my hand away. She should know better than to annoy me.

Why do I have to keep warning people off? Why can't they just leave me alone for fucks sake?

"Then don't try to leave." She snaps again. I look around and see Calum watching us. He's looking my way, a warning glare telling me not to defy his girlfriend.

Fuck these people. Screw all of them.

I sigh and sit back down, already shutting down half my brain so she can't damage it with her nonsense.

"What's your deal?" She asks, forcing me to snap out of my annoyance and pay actual attention to her.

What?

She can't hear me so I force myself to repeat it out loud, "What?"

"Do you want a mirror? Look at those eye bags under your eyes. The vein that keeps throbbing on the side of your head, right here," she pokes my temple with her fingernail and I push her hand away again.

"I told you not to touch me!" I warn her for about the thousandth time.

"Why? Because you're the big bad wolf?" She coos, leaning her head closer.

"What do you want? Do you wanna go home too?" I look at her now, making eye contact. Her tan skin is glowing under the sunlight streaming in from the large windows of the lobby. Her eyes have intentions in them. Intentions I'm a hundred fucking percent sure that I don't wanna find out about. They are probably similar to Adelaide's.

"No. I wanna know what you want. You see Luke, I've known Sierra for some time now." She smiles lightly at my frustrated expression.

"I met her at her worst. I know when she's happy, I know when she's upset, I know when she can't put up with shit and then I know when she does put up with shit because it's worth it." Montana turns her body towards me, leaning in so no one else can hear our conversation.

"She wanted to stay Luke. But not for the money or the job or any of the other shit that comes with this territory. She wanted to stay for you. But you see, when you want to stay for someone and they tell you to leave, your pride is a little hurt so you haul ass outta there."

I stay quiet. What could I possibly say to this girl? Sierra left because she fucking wanted to.

"From what I can see," she points at my phone and up at my face with a mock expression. "—you didn't want her to leave either. So why don't you, you know, call her maybe?"

"Call her?" I scoff.

"Are you mad? Or is this a joke to you?" My life probably does look like a joke to all these people. So many people leaving and coming back and I'm just sat here letting them run all over.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Montana stares at me, unblinking. The lobby is awfully quiet, almost like everyone is listening in to our conversation.

"I don't care either way. Why are you bringing this up? It's none of your business." I stand up to leave but she doesn't miss a beat.

"Why don't you just stop? Stop caring about what other people around you are doing. Stop thinking that everyone is trying to hurt you. Just think about yourself for a second. Is this what you really want? To be away from someone that made you feel things? Beautiful wondrous things?" Her tone is almost pleading.

"What do you want me to do Monti?" I ask her, desperation evident in my voice now. First Adelaide and now her. For such a small being she was so much, too much for me to handle in my state. I now know why my best friend loved her the way he did.

"You called me Monti." She raises an eyebrow, giggling.

"Please stop wasting my time." I frown down at her. I don't want to warm up to these people. They are temporary. As soon as the tour is over I won't see them again and I don't want to.

"I'm not wasting your time. Just ask yourself this. Ask yourself if this is what you really want. We're all hurting Luke. Every single one of us." Her voice lowers to a whisper.

I run a hand through my hair, tugging at the long ends in frustration. What does she expect me to do? It's too late. It's bloody late to change anything.

"She is home now. She is safe and she is happy. Let her be." I sigh and start walking away.

"Home? You think she is home? If you knew her Luke, you will know that she isn't home. It doesn't matter where you grew up or where you lived your whole life. It doesn't make it your home," Montana sniffles behind me.

"Home is when you finally stop trying to get away. When you finally stop running. No matter how much Sierra told us that she didn't want this and tried to convince herself that she had to leave, I know she didn't want to run when she was here, that's why her panic attacks started coming back. She wouldn't let herself accept the happiness. This is her home, where she didn't have to escape."

~

I take a final look around the hotel room to make sure I haven't left anything. Sitting down on the bed, I rub my hand behind my neck to try and ease the painful tension in the muscles.

Montana's words are still like fresh stab wounds to my soul.

"Home is when you finally stop trying to get away. When you finally stop running."

Her words resonate inside my skull. Sierra's face clinging to each one of it. My beautiful girl with her green eyes and her broken heart.

Do I hate her? No. I want her to come back.

No, I hate her. She has to stay away.

You hate her.

No. No. No.

The phone in my hand starts to ring so I fling it across the room and it crashes against the wall, dropping to the floor. I don't look at it twice to see if it's cracked. The ringing stops so it's good enough for me.

You hate her.

No, I fucking don't. I can't ever hate her.

What is this that I feel for her then?

"Fuck!" I gasp out, tears stinging my eyes. I have always been able to label my emotions. Why is this happening to me again? This is all too fucking familiar for my liking.

With a final tug at my hair, I pull open my backpack and rummage through it until I find it. The letter from the fan in the Philippines. I need to read it again. I need to remind myself of what's important. I can't lose my sense of what's important, not half way through a fucking world tour.

I skim through her words, looking for the paragraph that can fix me again. Years ago I would have laughed at this situation. Reading a fan's letter to keep my sanity intact?

You need them as much as they need you. My mother used to tell me.

Reading the letter again brings a fresh wave of tears into my eyes and I don't stop to wipe them away. My hands are glued to the fragile paper with her final words to someone as undeserving as me.

Dear Luke,

"-I see that you have been sad these days and it breaks my heart. Your smile isn't as bright as it used to be, your blue eyes that I love so much don't shine anymore. I know life kicked you down really hard baby but I want you to get back up and be happy again-"

How do they see it? I spend all my energy trying to mask it but they still see it.

Try harder.

"—be happy enough for both of us. For the years of happiness that I'm losing."

Happiness. Sierra made me happy. That's what I felt with her, happiness.

You hate her.

No, I don't. I don't.

"—And I hope one day you find someone that is worthy enough to love you and I hope she loves you as much as I do because I know for a fact that no one can love you more than I do."

Love. Sierra doesn't love me. No one loves me. Maybe this girl did, but that's it.

"—my last wish is for you to be happy—"

I want to make her last wish come true. I want to be happy. But I can't.

You can.

Do I go? Do I go after her? After Sierra?

I fold the letter carefully with shaky hands and put it back in my bag, standing up to leave.

Maybe she will love me if I ask her for forgiveness?

In the lobby, I watch as my band moves to get into a van, but I don't follow.

You are pathetic, Luke Hemmings.

Montana looks back at me and a look passes across her face, a smile—understanding. She nods at me and gets into the van and I watch as it pulls away. My cracked phone beeps with a text message.

"322A, Primrose Hill, London.
Follow your heart, Lukey. - Monti xx"

A smile threatens to spread across my face, but I don't let it. I'm a fucking idiot. But I have always been one. This time, I'll be an idiot for a purpose so that a fan didn't bestow her last shred of happiness on me for nothing. Then maybe I can get some sleep knowing that Sierra forgave me and she won't keep haunting my dreams too.