CHAPTER 3: Realization
1427 Words
The night dragged on until the morning finally stopped it, sunlight pushing its way past the curtains like an unwelcome reminder that time hadn’t frozen after all. Luke woke up with his head pounding and his eyes still fogged from sleep. For a moment he didn’t know where he was. Everything felt too warm, too quiet, too still.
He blinked slowly, trying to get his eyes to focus. His vision was blurry, shapes blending together. He lifted a hand and rubbed at his eyes, trying to push away the haze—and that was when he realized he wasn’t lying alone. Heather was curled against him, her arm draped over his waist. She was still asleep, breathing evenly, completely unaware of the panic starting to rise in his chest.
Luke froze.
Then it hit him all at once.
Luke: “Sh*t…” he whispered under his breath.
The memories from last night slammed back into him—messy, out of order, confusing. He remembered talking to Heather. He remembered laughing. He remembered the room spinning a bit too much. He remembered staying beside her because she’d said she didn’t want to be alone. But beyond that, it was all a blur. He remembered being there, but not every detail of what he did or didn’t do, and that uncertainty was enough to make his stomach twist.
But the thing he’d forgotten—the most important part, somehow—was that he wasn’t just Luke.
He was Luke, the singer.
A very visible singer.
A singer with fans, cameras, schedules, expectations, and absolutely no room for mistakes that could blow up the internet in five seconds.
It hit him like ice water being poured over his head.
He was a singer.
A public figure.
A guy who had a whole career depending on him not being stupid.
A damn singer.
Luke: “No-no-no…”
His voice cracked as he sat up carefully, trying not to wake Heather. He scanned the room with frantic eyes, looking for his jeans. They were thrown halfway across the floor, tangled near a pile of jackets. His shirt was crumpled on a chair. Great. Perfect. Everything screamed “you made questionable decisions.”
He reached for his jeans first, patting the pockets until he found his phone. It was still there. He clicked the screen on, terrified to see notifications.
5:00 a.m.
He let out a shaky breath. That gave him at least a little time. Enough to escape without being seen. Enough to try to find Jack or his manager before anyone else woke up. Enough to create some kind of explanation before the world spun out of control.
What he couldn’t afford—at all—was a photo of him stumbling out of this room with a girl he barely knew.
Fans didn’t need to see that.
Paparazzi definitely didn’t.
The internet absolutely didn’t.
Still trying not to make a sound, Luke pulled on his jeans and yanked his shirt over his head. Buttons misaligned, collar bent wrong—but he didn’t care. He just needed to get out.
He grabbed the doorknob and turned it slowly, easing the door open by inches.
The hallway outside looked like the aftermath of a storm. People were asleep everywhere—on the floor, on couches, leaning against walls. Some were sprawled across tables with empty cups beside them. Clothes, blankets, bags, and random party trash were scattered everywhere. Everyone looked completely out of it.
Luke stepped carefully around them, heart racing.
But there was one person he didn’t see.
Jake.
He scanned the hallway again, just to be sure, but Jake was nowhere. No sign of his friend, no sign of anyone coherent enough to help him. Luke swallowed hard and moved faster, slipping past the sleeping crowd and heading down the stairs.
Outside, the early-morning air was cool and sharp, making him shiver. The city was still half-asleep, only a few cars passing by. Good. Less chance of being recognized.
He flagged down a cab, climbed in quickly, and kept his head low.
Luke: “To the company building, please.”
The driver nodded and pulled away from the curb. Luke pressed a hand against his forehead, trying to steady himself. He needed to think. He needed to plan. He needed to hope last night wasn’t going to come back and destroy everything.
By the time the cab reached the company building, the sky was turning a faint blue. Luke paid quickly and rushed inside, using the side entrance like he always did when he wanted to avoid attention.
The lobby lights were already on. Staff members were starting their morning routines; papers shuffling, coffee machines hissing. Luke walked fast—almost running—until he turned a corner and nearly collided with his manager.
The man’s eyes widened the moment he saw him.
Manager: “Luke! Where were you?”
His voice was sharp, but underneath it was pure worry.
Manager: “We looked for you the whole night.”
Luke swallowed hard, forcing himself to speak.
Luke: “I… I kinda fell asleep in a room.”
It wasn’t a lie.
Not exactly.
Just the safest possible version of the truth.
The manager stared at him for a long second, scanning his face, his messy clothes, his tired eyes.
The manager let out a tired breath and shook his head.
Manager: “Just go home. Jake was worried sick too.”
Luke nodded quickly. “Yeah… okay.”
He excused himself and walked straight to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. The second it clicked shut, he sagged forward and stared at his own reflection in the mirror. His hair was a mess, his eyes were red, and he looked like someone who had absolutely lost control of his night.
He felt sh*tty.
And stupid.
Really stupid.
How could he have ended up sleeping beside someone he barely knew? How could he let himself get carried away by the moment? He didn’t even remember half of it. That alone was enough to twist his stomach.
A dozen panicked thoughts rushed through his mind.
What if she wasn’t who she said she was?
What if she had bad intentions?
What if last night turned into something that could blow up online?
He didn’t know her.
He didn’t know anything about her.
And that terrified him more than he wanted to admit.
He dragged a hand through his hair and tried to pull himself together. He adjusted his shirt, wiped his face with water, and took one last breath before forcing himself out of the bathroom. He headed to the parking lot, got into his car, and drove home.
Home.
To face Jake.
Jake was the type who cared quietly. He didn’t say it out loud much. He didn’t hug, didn’t fuss, didn’t hover. But if Luke ever got into real trouble, Jake always found a way to help him out of it. He was steady like that.
When Luke opened the door to their place, he heard the familiar sound of dumbbells hitting the floor mats. Jake was already awake, already working out, sweat running down his arms. He glanced over when he heard Luke come in, but he didn’t stop lifting.
Jake: “You’re finally back?”
His tone was light, teasing.
Luke dropped onto the couch like his whole body had given up. He wanted to tell Jake everything — every part of the mess he’d made, every mistake, every fear — but the words stayed stuck in his throat.
Jake didn’t push. He never did.
Jake: “So… where were you?”
Luke forced a small breath.
Luke: “I drank too much and fell asleep in a room.”
Jake snorted a laugh, completely believing him. Of course he did. They never lied to each other. At least, Luke never used to. The guilt tightened in his chest.
Jake set down a dumbbell and grabbed his water bottle.
Jake: “Well, we’ve got rehearsal today. Recording later. A whole list of things.”
He took a sip, then smirked.
Jake: “Honestly, you should’ve slept off in a room today, because tomorrow is our rest day.”
Luke let out a heavy sigh and pushed himself off the couch.
Luke: “I’ll go take a shower.”
He walked away before Jake could read his face too much, trying to pretend everything was normal — even though his mind was still stuck in that room, replaying the mistakes of last night over and over again.
- Writer
