Archive of Our Own

A long time ago in Sydney when you were 13 years old, you started posting song covers on YouTube, strumming your guitar as you sang, thinking little to nothing of it each time you clicked the “Upload” button. Reaching 1 million views and subscribers was never your goal. All you sought from it was doing what you love which was making and sharing music. You haven’t gotten to the creative stage of writing your own song, but you liked to think you were on your way there.

Every now and then, you wonder how your life would’ve gone if you never posted those covers.

After a while, your covers began gaining traction online to the point that people at your school started teasing you for it. Fortunately, the teasing never got too bad; some comments were a bit of light hearted fun and it was nothing you haven’t been through. “They’re just jealous”, the people that stood up for you would say, “of being nowhere near as talented as you are.”

Three years later, at 16, you opened your Facebook page to see you received a message from a girl you didn’t realise you were “friends” with. She was a guitarist who invited you to start a band with her and her friend, a bassist, and also contacted the girl who became the drummer. The band formed for the first time during the first meeting at a café in the CBD and your first gig taking place at a small bar.

By the time you were 18 and finished high school, your band relocated to Los Angeles. Your band and family will never let you forget this much to your dismay, but you broke down into tears at the airport right before the entrance to security. The thought of moving countries and continents at 18 was too much for you to bear. But you were determined to make the move and it was more tears of disbelief than sadness, so after a good 10-15 minutes of crying, you said goodbye to your family.

Los Angeles was a dream come true, a dream you never knew you had, one you didn’t know was possible.

Hollywood! Disneyland! The beaches! The food! So many exciting things about the City of Angels you couldn’t wait to try, see, and experience all at once as soon as you arrived. Some turned out to be highly disappointing, either only a persistent myth from television or just underwhelming, but many were as amazing as you expected it to be, and LA made your hometown of Sydney look completely like a small town.

Fame, on the other hand, was complicated.

Like everything else, it had its good and bad. You couldn’t deny it was nice to have “VIP treatment” or “special status” on the basis of your name. As the most recognisable member of the band, this position benefitted you in ways your bandmates could not, but at the same time, the paparazzi in Los Angeles were brutal. On top of it, being the lead vocalist caused you to be hounded in ways your bandmates were not.

Online had a lot of haters coming at you for the smallest thing but the good thing about that was the relative ease of ignoring it. You used to read every single comment on your videos, both hateful and supportive, though as time passed and the comments multiplied, there just wasn’t enough time to read them anymore. Not to mention the hate on Twitter you occasionally received, though seeing deranged fangirls of male artists sending you death threats from unfounded rumours was more amusing than hurtful.

After a few years in Los Angeles, you and your band agreed it was time to start a new chapter in your lives. The city will always have a special place in your heart for shaping you into the woman you are today, but living there finally ran its course. It was a symbol of both your greatest and hardest periods of your life. London was going to be your next home and everyone was thrilled about it, except for the weather. According to the people you knew, London had terrible weather, especially compared to Los Angeles. But you welcomed the weather locals and foreigners alike looked at in disdain, developing a soft spot for the gloomy weather. So far, since your arrival, it has rained each day since, some days being heavier than others, leaving your bandmates highly disappointed.

There was a bookstore down the road you lately frequented. Lately, you’ve been going just to stare at the books and admire the interior of the shop. You wonder if the owner is highly suspicious of you, but she’s still polite to you upon entrance. It looked like it was your lucky day because the book you were looking for was finally in stock, causing you to speed walk instantly to the display. The cover was one you’ve never seen before, so it either must be a new release, or a special edition, or both. You grabbed the hardback to feel the cover and flipped through the pages, being careful to not accidentally cut your thumbs on the thin but sharp paper.

You stopped in your tracks when you heard a man groan in frustration. “Argh, I fucking hate my life.”

You quickly returned the hardback on its display after you accidentally closed the book in an obnoxiously loud manner. Number one, the accent was no doubt an Australian one, stronger than your entire band combined, and it made you feel at home. The combination of adjusting your accents just so the Americans could understand you and living in LA for a few years led to your original accents fading. Number two, you were going to see if this man was okay.

Turning to your right, you were met with a long legged, blond man sitting on the chair by the corner of the room, running his hands through his hair. You carefully approached him and your footsteps prompted him to look up at you, his deep blue eyes staring at your own. Your breath hitched at the sight of his face; there was no doubt about it, you found him very attractive on the spot.

“Are you okay?” You asked him. 

He shook his head furiously. “No, no. I could be better. My idiot of a boss is asking me for a report I had to do. Here’s the thing: when he first told me about the report, he didn’t tell me when he wanted it and what he wanted. He just told me that I had a report to do. So, I thought he’s gonna talk more about it later in the week or next week. But no, today, he told me he needed the report by tomorrow. Well, why didn’t he tell me that at first?”

“I’m sorry, your boss sounds like a nightmare.”

The man laughed. “Right you are. The pay is wonderful, only reason I’m staying in that shithole of a job. Can’t wait to leave.”

“Well, why won’t you leave? Life is too short to be miserable.”

“Got bills to pay, and to pay bills, you need a job with a nice salary. I’m still looking for one. When a good offer comes up, you bet I’m leaving.”

You nodded. There wasn’t much more to say. You saw the exhaustion in his face and wondered if he was always like that or he was having a bad day. But with a very difficult boss, you can’t imagine being anything aside from exhausted.

“So, you live around here?” You asked, deciding to change the topic.

“Yeah. Work sent me to London. It was nice until my old supervisor left, and I got the one I have now.” He sighed. “You?”

“I do now, I actually just moved here a fortnight ago.” You smiled. “For the past few years, I’ve been in Los Angeles.”

“That’s cool. I spent some time in LA before ending up here. I liked it. What’s your name?”

You told him and asked for his.

“Luke.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Luke.”

“Likewise. You know what, you look like I’m supposed to know who you are already, but I don’t. Do I?”

At this moment, you realised that he hasn’t recognised who you were yet. You weren’t wearing any accessories that could hide your features either, so he was seeing you as you were, but he either didn’t care one bit, or truly didn’t know who you were. You couldn’t help the surprise you felt after years of fans attempting to stop you for photos back in LA. This was probably the first time in forever someone treated you like a normal person and you felt the relief beginning to seep in your body.

“Are you from New South Wales?” He asked after seconds of utter silence between you two.

“I am, actually. Born and raised in Sydney.”

His face fell flat. “Oh. I thought I grew up with you. You look so familiar. I thought we went to the same school together but that can’t be if you’re from Sydney. I’m from a small town inland.”

Your phone buzzed and you grabbed your phone from your purse to read the text. It was from the band group chat, urging you to meet the rest of them at the studio. You hastily shoved your phone back inside your purse and gave Luke an apologetic face as you stood.

“I’m really sorry, Luke, but I have to go. Issues with work, ironically enough. It was nice talking to you. Bye and I hope I see you again!”

You didn’t hear him say goodbye since you bolted out of the bookshop so fast, returning as fast as you left just to pick up your umbrella. You always said you hoped to see people again even if you truthfully never wanted to see them again. But Luke? You definitely wanted to see him again.

You forgot that you never bought the book you searched for until you walked across the doors of the studio.

That’s one of the reasons why you returned to the bookshop the next evening. The other reason was in the hopes of seeing Luke again.

Your phone rang as you reached for the book you so desired and you left before grabbing your phone. One of your bandmates’ names flashed throughout the screen and you almost groaned. What did she want?

You paced back and forth on the pavement, ensuring you weren’t accidentally bumping into people, while trying to comprehend what she was saying, and trying to answer quietly to not disturb the people in the outdoor seating of the café next door.

Hanging up was such a relieving moment for you that you didn’t initially notice Luke sitting on the same chair from yesterday when you returned to grab your book. He looked better than he did yesterday. He wasn’t tired, frustrated, upset, or anything negative. He looked… happy?

“Your boss again?” He asked, gesturing to you to sit across him, which you did.

“No, that was my friend. Long story short, she wants certain things done her way, but her methods are… unorthodox.”

“I’ve got friends like that too. Listen, I never got to thank you for being there for me yesterday. I’m not sure why you wanted to help me, but I appreciate it.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” you said. “I like to help people when I can.”

“That’s kind of you. Are you free over the weekend?"

“Unfortunately, no. I have to go to the stu- work over the weekend. I am free on Monday, though.”

“Well, that’s sad, but I’m not free on Monday. But we can try and arrange something sometime. Wanna exchange numbers?”

So you and Luke exchanged numbers and headed for a stroll through the city in the hopes of getting to know each other in the little time you had together. Saturday and Sunday may be off limits for you, but Friday night wasn’t, so why go your separate ways already? One of the many good things about London was its incredibly active nightlife.

Turns out, Luke had a passion for music. You had different tastes, but who were you to judge? “I learned how to play guitar by watching YouTube videos,” he said. “I still play, but not as much as I did in school and uni.”

“Don’t tell me you also sing,” you said with a grin.

“I don’t call myself the best, but I do sing. Am I good? Maybe, but I’ll let you decide for yourself if you ever hear it.”

“We’ll find a karaoke bar and put your voice to the test. If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to find one tonight.”

It was a Friday night, so naturally, no karaoke bar had any open spots for you and Luke. “Next time, when you tell me the dates you’re free, then I can book a reservation for us,” he said. You did, however, witness a gig in a random bar you two walked in. The band performing reminded you of your own for a second, as you performed your very first gig in a bar and the band consisted of all girls, the four of them.

The last place you entered for the night was a music store primarily focusing on selling guitars but sold some other instruments and discographies of certain artists. Luke was looking for some guitar picks since what he had was “old and boring” and the latest album of one of his favourite artists.

“This is crazy,” you heard Luke mumble. “Come over here.”

You did, and your heart sank. He pointed at your figure on the cover of your debut album. You haven’t seen a physical copy of that in a long time. 

Did I really look like that back then? 

“The girl in the far right looks a lot like you.”

You tried to laugh, but it came out pathetic. “Yeah. I get that a lot. About that-”

In the corner of your eye, you saw a group of girls on the other side of the glass window giggling to each other with their phones out, trying to take a picture of you. You wanted to believe you were dreaming and they were taking a picture of something else, but you were way too familiar with this and your assumptions were instantly confirmed when you heard them asking if it was you, stating your name outright, and the other fans insisting that it was really you.

Hearing your name and sensing the camera flash that almost blinded him was what led Luke to become worried for you. “I don’t understand. Is everything okay?”

You wanted to say “yes”, but “no” came out of your mouth instead. It was probably for the better, it was the truth that everything was indeed not okay, and he might be thinking you were leading him on.

Even the music shopkeeper was looking right at you and his eyes gleamed upon the sight of you, recognising who you were on the first glance. He thankfully knew better than to ask you for a photo, an autograph, or try and talk to you, and instead let you try and sneak around to avoid having photos of you taken and allow you to subtly leave.

At this point, Luke sort of understood. He pulled you close to him for what you assume is to prevent you from getting too far away and to protect you from fans. The physical action and the feeling of his chest on your back left you flustered and you blushed so hard your cheeks were most likely redder than the double deck buses.

The shopkeeper dimmed the lights and pointed at a door in the corner for you, urging you to get out for your own sake. You and Luke hurried off to the door after mouthing a “thank you” to the shopkeeper. The door led to a highly suspicious looking alleyway albeit quiet and clean, but the only thing that mattered at this rate was to get out and avoid the fans, which you did.

Luke examined his surroundings before turning back to you. “I think I have some clues myself, but do you mind telling me what just happened?”

“You’re really good at finding out who looks like who.” Your lips curled up into an empty smile. “You’re gonna think I’m crazy and I won’t blame you, but that’s me on the cover.”

His expressions turned into one of a sudden knowledge burst, as if everything he needed to know had come to him. “Oh. I believe you. I did start getting the hint when all the crazy people were trying to take pictures of you, and that one phone with the flash almost killed my eyes. But I wanted to hear it from you directly.”

“Any questions?” Might as well answer them now since there was no way he had none.

“Lots of them, but there’s so much, and my mind is still spinning from that.” Luke did a spinning movement with his fingers. “I thought answering questions about your fame is the last thing you want to do right now.”

His ability to read the room and continued action of treating you as normally as he can slightly cheered you up. “Yeah, true, it is,” you admitted. “But I put you through this, and you didn’t need to help me, but you did. So I think, there has to be something I have to do for you in return.”

Luke shook his head. “No. There’s nothing for you to do. Don’t feel there’s anything to owe to me. I think I paid my debts back by helping you, since you kept me company yesterday in the bookstore. But still, it’s basic decency, I still would help you if yesterday didn’t happen. I do have one question though.”

“And it is? Ask away.”

Luke gave you a bashful grin, looking like a shy teenage schoolboy. “Maybe we can get to know each other more in a ‘normal’ way. A date?” His face suddenly turned into one of shock and regret. “Oh, that was not the right question to ask-”

“It’s okay, Luke. Yes, I’d love to go on a date with you.” You smiled. 

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, really. But like I said earlier, I still don’t know my schedule. Now, you understand why. I promise you, I will let you know as soon as I find out, and we can set something that works for the both of us. I have my own question for you, a favour.”

“Anything.”

“Do you mind helping me get home?”

Luke took you back to your flat via a route that was slower but uninfested by potential paparazzi and fans sneaking photos, and left when he saw you were safely inside. You watched him disappear from your line of sight through your window. When his figure was gone, you closed the curtains for the night.

At the end of the first date, you and Luke both knew there was more to come and there already was a special connection you had together. He was funny yet kind, and smart yet humble, and not to mention, very attractive. You kept your cool on the way home (you almost lost it when he gave you a kiss as you got to your place)  and allowed yourself to become as giddy as your teenage self upon locking your front door. 

You insisted on keeping weekends absolutely free for the following month and if the band had to attend whatever was scheduled on the weekend, then the other three could do that themselves. You didn’t want to tell them about Luke just yet but they were having suspicions of their own. Nevertheless, they all found out on their own by complete accident when they saw a picture of Luke on your phone’s lock screen within a month.

The media, on the other hand, you tried to keep at bay, and your band did what they could to divert attention from your relationship, sometimes directing it towards themselves. Unfortunately, they eventually discovered Luke’s existence.

The night they found out was three months in your relationship. By this point, you two were going very strong and had high hopes for what the future had in store for you. He made you happy, he was a great kisser, a romantic and last but not least: the sex was great. Weekends may be the only time you get to see each other, but you weren’t going to let your difficult schedule get in the way of a good thing, and you texted and called him as often as you could after work.

You were walking to his place in what you believed to be an empty, quiet route illuminated by the bright poles. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder whilst yours around his waist, pulling yourselves close to each other. The wind breeze never failed to make you shiver even with a coat on and the physical contact helped ease the cold.

“I had a really great time tonight,” you said.

“So did I.” He leaned in to kiss you. “My day never fails to get better when I’m with you.”

When he looked ahead of him he suddenly stopped in his tracks, throwing you off guard. There was nothing ahead of you, so you looked behind and there was no sight of danger there either.

“Squirrel.” Luke pointed to the ground and you saw a squirrel running away, his gaze following it as it left your sights the farther it got. 

You laughed. “First time seeing one?”

“No, I see them almost every day, but it still amazes me. You know we don’t have them back home.”

“I know that. I felt the same way when I first saw a squirrel in LA. Unlike you, I got used to it.”

“I’ve been living in London for almost a year and spent another year in LA and I’m still not used to it,” said Luke. The squirrel was now gone. “Such a cute little thing.”

“You’re really cute. I wish I took a picture of your face when you saw it. I almost thought you were scared of it.”

Click.

“Did you hear that?” You asked, looking around. There was another click.

Luke shook his head. “Hear what?”

Click.

You shrugged. It was probably your own imagination. “Eh. Must’ve been the squirrels.”

Luke cackled. “The squirrel, its mate, and its acorn. Didn’t know it was the time of the year already.”

You always looked forward to entering his flat, since each time you spent the night with him, you learned a new fact about him. The first night you spent with him, you found a penguin plush on the sofa. “It was a gift from a friend,” he said. “This is embarrassing but I had a penguin phase when I was younger.” 

This time, you noticed a picture frame on his desk beside his computer, holding a photo of four young men. You instantly spotted Luke as the second to the left by his blond hair (plus he was the only blond in the picture) and realised a second later he must’ve been very young in this photo. You grabbed the picture frame to take a closer look at it. His blond hair was styled in a quiff and he had a lip ring on his bottom left labret piercing. Beside him were three different guys, to his left was a guy with a bandana and a terrible purple shirt, to his right a guy with long, spiky pink hair and huge eyes, and to the far right a guy with dark hair.

Luke saw you with the frame in your hands. “I think I was 18 when that picture was taken. I don’t remember. I do know I was in uni.”

“You were so cute back then.”

He feigned a look of offence and hurt. “And I’m not anymore?” You immediately apologised with regret for your poor choice of words but he simply laughed and lifted a hand up. “Kidding, I know that’s not what you meant.”

“You had a lip ring in uni.” You were pretty sure he never had one during the time you knew him, so you looked at him to be sure. No lip ring found. “Not anymore.”

“Yeah. It fell out when I was drunk at a party, also during uni. I don’t remember how it happened. I woke up the next morning with an intense hangover and a missing lip ring. I never bothered to get it redone and I’m sure the piercing will be closed by now.”

He pointed at the guy with dark hair in the far right. “This one gave me the penguin plush.”

“Do you still talk to him?”

“Yeah, all of them, actually. Well, when we can. Honestly, I haven’t spoken to him in a while, and the one with the awful purple shirt. I moved abroad, that’s why.” He pointed at the guy with pink hair. “This is the one I talk to the most. He sends me shitty Instagram memes all the time and I threatened to block him before. But he’s my best friend and he’s the one that dropped me off at the airport, so I suck it up and watch each of them.”

“It’s sweet you still talk to your old friends. I can’t imagine my life without my band.” You opened your camera roll to show him an old picture of your band with the Sydney Opera House behind you, one of the first pictures of you four, and swiped right to reveal a newer, more recent picture recreating the old photo. Same pose, same location, same people, but grown up. “We went to school together, that’s how I met them.”

Luke was awed by the old photo. “You were adorable and still somehow look the same after all these years.” He pressed his finger against the bandmate to your right. “She looks 27 and you look 12.”

“Don’t tell her that when you meet her.” You cackled, swiping to show the newer, more recent picture. “If you think I still look the same, then wait until you see her in person. She hasn’t aged a day.”

“They know about you.”

You sat on the floor with your arms wrapped around your knees. The media published photos of you and Luke walking home last night. You couldn’t believe you ignored the three clicking noises you heard; you should’ve known better! The photos were already going viral on Twitter with fans speculating if you were together or not. From what you understood, many believed it, but many think you were just friends. The only good thing to come out of this was the lack of a kissing picture that would’ve solidified the rumours.

“I’m sorry, Luke. I did my best to keep you out of the media, but I guess I couldn’t do that. I feel like I violated your privacy,” you said.

Luke kneeled down beside you and wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back up and down. “It’s not your fault. Do the pictures bother me? Yeah, absolutely. If I could take them down, then I would. Do I think you should blame yourself? Fuck no, they violated your own privacy too.”

 You looked up at him. “I’m sorry that I brought this upon you. I understand if you want to end things between us, live a normal life, away from the cameras.”

“Who said I wanted to end things with you?” Luke asked, genuinely confused at the suggestion. “I’m not gonna pretend I know how you feel, because I don’t. I didn’t have cameras shoved in my face straight into adulthood. What I know is I want to be with you, because what we have is special, and I think it would be stupid to give up so quickly.”

You gave a weak smile. “Before I met you, I was in a pretty dark place. I made many mistakes, some that nearly destroyed my life. You showed me there were still good things in life to live for. You showed me the light.” You pulled Luke in for a kiss and you stayed in his tight embrace when you pulled away. “It would break me to let you go, but I will do so without hesitation if this kind of life will make you miserable.”

“I want to be with you,” he repeated. “I’ll say it over and over again until you understand it. Fuck the cameras, Twitter, what other people say. They don’t know anything about us.”

“But what happens now?” He asked. “Do you address those rumours? Or-”

You shook your head furiously. “No. I’ll do nothing.” It was the first thing you learned regarding dating rumours, true or not. Management told you silence was the best course of action. “It’ll blow over soon enough. Give it some time and they’ll forget those photos existed.”

Your statement that people will forget about the photos was somewhat untrue. For the next three months, you and Luke managed to evade the paparazzi and persistent fans with cameras, but his life was beginning to change with consequences. The initial article called Luke a mystery man but fans tracked him down, some alleging that they grew up with Luke in Australia, others simply finding him through your Instagram following list. He knew his identity was discovered when he woke up to hundreds of new followers, comments and direct messages. Some were nice, most were rude. This led him to set his account to private.

Otherwise, this changed little if nothing in your relationship. Luke stayed true to his word and stood by your side, fighting for your relationship if need be.

Six months into your relationship, you were given a week off and decided to spend that time going up north with Luke. One of your bandmates told you about a park in Northern England that was great for hiking and watching the sunset.

It was a perfect place for a getaway from the city. The views were beautiful, the sound of the lakes flowing soothed you, and there was nobody to disturb you, aside from confused foreign tourists asking for directions, a delight rather than a burden. For a moment, you felt free. Free of any expectations and harassment. You were just you, spending time with someone special, the man you love.

Love.

You sat on top of the grassy hill awaiting sunset, resting your head on his shoulder. The sky was a colourful mix of purple, red, orange, pink, and yellow. You couldn’t resist taking a picture of it, so you took your phone and opened the camera.

“The sky is very beautiful, isn’t it?”

“So are you,” he said instantly, rather awkwardly. You two shared a knowing look before bursting into laughter. “Sorry, I saw a chance and I had to take it.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “That’s cheesy of you.” You leaned in to kiss him. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Pulling away, you saw the look of surprise on his face. “You love me?”

Those three words left your mouth before you knew it, but there was no going back now.

“Yes, I do love you.”

What if he didn’t love you back? What if he told you you were going too fast? What if he laughed at your face? What if-

Luke pressed his lips against yours, interrupting the negative thoughts that were racing through your mind. Any doubts you had vanished in an instant. You gladly returned the kiss, running your fingers through his hair. He took a deep breath when he parted and looked you in the eyes.

“That’s good to hear, because I love you too,” he said.

You pointed at the sky to show him the sun was beginning to set. It was a wonderful view and your heart fluttered at the thought that you declared your love for each other under the sunset. You took another picture with your phone watching you do this gave Luke an idea.

“We should take a picture of us under the sunset.”

His phone had a better camera, so you took dozens of pictures with him. Some were kissing pictures, some were making silly faces at the camera, some were normal. He was about to put his phone away when you begged for one last photo.

“Please?” You tried widening your eyes to recreate the puppy dog eyes, a technique you hadn’t used in a decade. You used that face all the time on your mum to convince her to allow you to do something you wanted to do.

“Okay, just this last one.” Luke opened the camera and you kissed him on the cheek. Despite saying just one more, he pressed the button three times, technically making it the last three. “Let’s watch the sunset until it’s gone, then we’ll take more pictures afterwards. Promise.”

Having to leave Northern England to return to London left you sad but all good things had to come to an end. Following your week off was unsurprisingly the heaviest schedule for the week. By the time you got home, you had a sudden burst of inspiration and energy for songwriting and within five days already had an album’s length of songs completed. You still had to share it with your band to decide if it’s going past the drafts or staying unreleased and destroyed. 

“What’s that?” Luke’s sudden appearance in your bedroom startled you. He was referring to none other than the drafts you were reviewing, scattered all over your bed, the drafts you were too shy to share with him.

You grabbed the drafts to pull it away from him. “Just ideas for the next album.” However, you felt guilty for trying to hide the songs away from him, so you put it back down on the bed.

He leaned over the bed to read the songs. Well, he skimmed through it and moved on to the next draft. “It’s really emotionally charged. Is it about me?”

“Yes, every single one of them.”

“I’m really flattered.” Luke embraced you and kissed your forehead. “I wish I was as talented to express my love for you like that. But I think not even words can truly describe how much I love you.”

“I love you too.” You kissed him. “Songwriting is a cathartic release for me. Sometimes, I write without the intention of recording it. It helps me feel better. These ones, though, I’m not sure if I want to record it or keep it between us.”

“What does your heart say?”

“To record it. Deep down, I want to share it. Writing these new songs down on paper didn’t take away the part of me that desperately wants to share it.”

He sat down on the bed beside you, moving some of the drafts so he doesn’t sit on it. “Then I think you should record it. But what if your band hates it?”

“If they do, they can go fuck themselves,” you said. You didn’t mean to be harsh towards them nor did you mean to say that at all, but you did anyway, and Luke’s bright laugh had you laughing, too. “Just kidding. I shouldn’t say that. If they hate it, it stays unreleased. During our whole careers, I wrote most of the songs. Sometimes, the other members pitch in and bring their own to the studio. We all have to agree on ideas; it takes one disagreement for ideas to turn to dust.”

You organised your drafts in a folder and placed it aside. “I’ll bring these in for us to discuss tomorrow. But I have another idea, and I need to talk about it.”

“This idea will either be the best or worst ever,” he said with a cheeky grin.

“I’ve been thinking, I wanted to post a picture of us on Instagram, but I know how much you want to stay private.”

Luke nodded. “So you want to make an announcement.”

“Not exactly an announcement. That’s pretty corny.” Your face went blank as you thought deeply about it. “Actually, you know what, it’s sort of an announcement if you think about it. But I’m not making an ‘official statement’ and I stand by my opinion that it’s corny. I just wanted to post a picture of us, put an end to those rumours, and control the narrative myself. If they know I’m in a relationship, I want it in my own hands, and they find out directly from me and not photos from other people.”

“Right,” said Luke. “If you feel ready to do that, then I support you.”

“I want to know how you really feel, Luke. Are you okay with me showing you on my Instagram? Once we go through with it, there is no going back. If you want to stay as is, that’s perfectly fine with me too, it’s nobody’s business, anyways.”

He squeezed your hand. “I’m okay with it. They’re going to find out sooner or later. Best if you beat the paparazzi to it. Under one condition.”

“Which is?”

“I get to have a say in what photo you post.”

“Of course. I was planning to do that.”

Ironically enough, the process of selecting the photo to post was harder than the conversation. Either Luke thought he looked terrible, or you thought you looked terrible, or the pictures were too private to share. It went on for almost an hour and you almost changed your mind until you came across a picture you both liked: one of the many photos you took during your recent trip to Northern England.

As you typed up the caption and tagged him in the picture, you looked at Luke for emotional support before pressing the “Upload” button. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Let’s do it.”

---