Chapter Text
Luke Hemmings sighed slightly to himself as he sorted through the paperwork on his desk in his study at home. It was times like this he wished most that he had a secretary (God knows he could do with one, he had enough work to be doing without all the useless sorting through forms that in the end, helped him to gain absolutely nothing), but he knew the money just wasn't there.
It wasn't that he was poor or anything, he was a relatively successful lawyer, having defended some relatively major cases, and appearing on TV a couple of times (his mother had rang literally everyone they knew to inform them about that), but he was fresh out of law school, finishing only a couple of years ago, and since he'd recently moved out of his apartment with his life-long best friends, Michael and Calum, and gotten his own place, money was kind of tight.
Not that he was complaining. He was living his dream right now, he was a good lawyer, he knew that, and he genuinely loved his job. And he'd been meaning to get his own apartment for a while now. Michael and Calum were great, literally brothers to him, but walking in on them fucking had gotten very old very fast. Not that he'd had any problem with them getting together or anything, in fact looking back now he was kind of surprised it had taken them this long to make it official, but if he was being honest, he could probably do without being kept awake by the sound of them at night.
He ran a hand through his blonde hair, and stole a glance out the window, the darkness outside making his reflection stare right back at him. He was young, only 24, practically a baby compared to most of the lawyers he went up against, something which every single one of them felt the need to point out, which gave him that extra satisfaction every time he beat them. His hair currently fell flat on his head, like it always did when he wasn't in public, but for court and press conferences and going out he gelled it up into a quiff.
He was a naturally good-looking guy, another thing his opposing lawyers always felt was necessary to bring up, as if the fact that he was young and handsome somehow changed what he had to say. He'd learned to let it go and not take any notice of it, but when the judge seemed to agree with the prosecutor, he sometimes found himself getting mad. He'd walked out of court once, something that added more talk to his already growing buzz, and it served to be one of the best things he ever did in his career. People were talking about him as some sort of anti-authority lawyer but in reality he just hadn't had a lot of sleep the night before and he got pissed off, and walked out.
He wasn't going to correct the people talking about him, though. He'd found after the incident had happened he was suddenly a lot more popular, and it didn't hurt that he eventually won the case he'd walked out on, the judge eventually being forced to find his client innocent, due to the fact that there was absolutely no evidence whatsoever to say otherwise.
His eyes were blue, but as he stared into the perennial blackness outside his window, he found them growing more and more tired by the second. He had dark bags underneath his eyes, which Michael had kindly told him made him look about fifty years older than he actually was, and Calum had agreed with him, saying they were getting more and more noticeable by the day. And maybe it was due to the fact that he was getting approximately two-three hours of sleep each night, and was basically staying awake due to the glorious thing that was coffee.
Fuck it, he thought finally, giving up on the paperwork, and stuffing it inside his briefcase. It could wait until tomorrow. He checked the time on his iPhone (he was never one to wear a watch), it read 01:34. He contemplated going straight to bed, and actually getting a decent night's sleep for once, but he eventually decided against it, opting instead to watch some TV. He abandoned his briefcase in his study, and headed into the main room in his apartment, which contained both the kitchen and the living room.
He flopped down onto his couch, switching on one of the many news channels he liked to watch. He knew that the news wasn't exactly cool to watch, something that Michael and Calum loved to tease him about, but he liked to keep himself updated on what was going on in the world, especially the bits that involved law. A video clip of a guy practically skipping up the steps into a courtroom, waving to the cameras and beaming at all the reporters desperate to talk to him, and Luke recognised him straight away. Ashton Irwin.
The nineteen year old was involved in what was definitely the most high profile case going on currently. None other than Liam Payne, arguably the most famous prosecutor in the world, was trying to prove to world that Ashton Irwin had murdered his ex-girlfriend and her boyfriend, something that pretty much everyone who'd even briefly heard of the case was convinced he'd done. But there wasn't substantial evidence against Ashton, and boy, did he know it.
All in all, it should have been a pretty regular case, but it wasn't. It was blown up, in all the headlines, everyone was talking about it, all because of one person. Ashton Irwin.
He'd become infamous for laughing loudly during court, for flipping off the many prosecuting lawyers and all of their assistants, for talking to reporters when any fool could've told him to keep his mouth shut, for smiling brightly every time anyone mentioned the crime he was accused of, for showing up to court in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, for skipping up the steps instead of walking, for doing everything all wrong and somehow still not getting caught.
It had been going on for about four months so far, and it should've been any defending lawyer's dream to get involved in. All the time in front of the cameras, the chance to get mainstream appeal, the opportunity to be a part of what would no doubt be one of the biggest cases in the past decade. But nobody wanted to defend Ashton Irwin.
Maybe it was the fact that he was known for being a rebel, or maybe it was that he wasn't the most easy person to get along with, or maybe it was the fact that everybody believed he was guilty, and no lawyer wants to lose what could possibly go down as the biggest case in the decade. So Ashton Irwin remained lawyer-less, and the court was forced to appoint different lawyers each time he entered, and each of them did absolutely nothing to help him, because each of them had no way to help him.
But he remained free from jail, dodging prosecution thanks to the fact that no one could find any evidence against him.
Luke didn't know what to think about Ashton. He interested him, sure, but a lot of cases interested him. He just couldn't understand why Ashton would even bother with all his bravado, what point was he trying to make? What would he gain from angering the people who had his life in their hands? Luke just didn't understand. Sighing to himself as Ashton disappeared from his screen and a reporter began explaining the case for what was no doubt the fifteenth time this week, Luke switched off the TV.
He decided to call it an early night and he began heading up the stairs when he heard his office phone ringing. It was technically just his normal home phone, but only clients and other lawyers ever rang it. Anyone else, literally only Michael and Calum and occasionally his mother, contacted him on his mobile.
It was a rarity for somebody to call that phone- most of his clients just showed up to their appointments and left, and the majority of the lawyers he knew didn't like him enough to ring him at home- at anytime, let alone in the middle of the night. He considered letting it ring out- it was late and he was tired, and if Michael and Calum were right, which they usually were, he needed the sleep, but something inside him, a part of him he'd grown to hate over the years, the part that couldn't just let things be, led him to the phone.
He picked it up just before it rang out. "Oh, you picked up, oh, um, hi? Uh, will you be my lawyer?"
Silence filled the phone for a couple seconds before Luke's brain finally registered what was going on. "Er, who is this?"
"Oh, this is Ashton, Ashton Irwin, you probably know who I am," it was there, however barely, the tiny piece of arrogance as he spoke, and it almost made Luke laugh. Imagine being proud that people knew you because you were accused of murder.
"Yeah, I know who you are. Why the fuck did you call me?"
"Aw, cute little Hemmings using bad boy words," Luke nearly, very nearly hung up the phone, but Ashton quickly spoke again. "Sorry, I just, uh, so, will you be my lawyer?"
"Why'd you need a lawyer?" Luke said, admittedly quite stupidly.
Ashton sighed over-dramatically into the phone, and spoke again, horribly patronising. "Well, I'm not quite sure if you've noticed, but I'm kind of involved in a major court case and I decided I'd probably do better with a lawyer because they're supposed to be smart. Obviously so far you've proven me wrong, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume it's because it's late,"
If it was possible to punch people through the phone, Luke was pretty sure he would've hit Ashton in the face now. "Okay, bye,"
"No, wait, please, I've been ringing different lawyers all night, and I'm at a pay-phone and I've only got like fifty cents left, please be my lawyer,"
Luke thought for a moment, and it occurred to him that he didn't want to defend Ashton Irwin, but he also knew he'd feel nothing but guilt if he didn't. The begging tone in Ashton's voice, the contrast from what he'd been like earlier, Luke almost felt like he was obliged to defend him.
"Hurry up, I've only got like thirty seconds left," Ashton's voice was back to the way it had been before, practically dripping with cockiness, but Luke could sense a little tinge of urgency behind it all.
"What made you decide you wanted a lawyer now? You've been doing fine without one,"
Ashton didn't speak for what seemed like a long time, and Luke was almost wondering if maybe his time had run out before he finally did. In a small voice, sounding for all the world like a little kid, like the nineteen year old he actually was instead of the cocky bastard he pretended to be, Ashton spoke. "I don't wanna go to jail,"
And it was then that Luke knew what he'd probably known all along, the annoying do-good side of him raising up again, that he really had no choice in the matter. He had to defend Ashton Irwin.
"Okay," he said down the phone. "I'll be your lawyer,"
The only response he got was the sound of the phone clicking off.