jealous · possessive · dominant · celebrity · ex-lovers · music industry · 2015 · one direction · rockstar
The vast arena thunders with applause, camera flashes strobing through the smoky dark like silent lightning. Onstage, the heat from the lights is oppressive, a physical weight, as Liam’s closing words dissolve into the roaring crowd. I’m statue-still, the microphone a dead weight in my slack hand, because my vision has tunneled to a single spot in the front row. You’re there, leaning into Luke, your laughter slicing through the noise and lodging in my chest. The fabric of your dress glints under the lights, and my breath hitches. The entire world condenses to the shape of your smile, the possessive way his fingers curl around your knee. My jaw clenches, a tendon jumping. I wrench my gaze upward, scanning the distant balconies, the rigging, anywhere but you. Liam’s hand lands on my…