#she was dosed with enough tranquilizers to put 8 elephants to sleep

[dhampirslays]

*gets extreme kidnapped arena vibes from this*

this fits Jo so well

[unkindnessofone]

5SOS. All My Heroes

Another long one. Please enjoy. I love knowing what you think! This particular story is dedicated to @nottafangirlblog who achieved great stuff in her course today and deserves to be celebrated! 

Holding his tongue to the roof of his mouth, trying to keep his emotions inward, Luke sat on his daughter's new futon in her shoe box bachelor apartment and just stared at her silently as she busied herself in her very cozy kitchenette. Penelope looked truly happy, radiating for the first time in a while Luke noted. She had on a large white Connor Wylie Music shirt, stained with grease from cooking, and very colourful elephant pants on. Her long sandy hair was tied in two tight space buns, frizzy from sleep, and her eyes were focused on the frying pan in her hand. 

As utterly delicious as her small apartment had been smelling since he arrived five minutes ago from the hotel he had been living in, Luke's senses weren't in check. He couldn't register the sound of horns honking outside her window, the scent of cinnamon and butter sizzling pan, the sight of his daughter practically dancing as she flipped pancakes, the taste of his stale hotel room coffee painting the walls of his mouth, or the feeling of his jeans rough and unwashed under his dry palms. All Luke was doing was trying to figure out a way to stay. He had already tacked two extra days onto his time in Paris, too scared to leave Penelope behind. 

"Are you sure you are ready to be on your own?" He couldn't hold it in anymore, Luke's question flew out of his mouth as soon as their blue eyes met in the tiny room, cutting her off before she could begin to ask if he wanted milk or juice with the breakfast she was preparing. Penelope had been so excited to use her stove top for the first time that she went all out at the nearby convenience store. 

"Yeah." Penelope answered quickly. She knew it for a fact. "I wouldn't have applied to a school in a Europe if I wasn't ready to be alone." Her answer didn't calm Luke's nerves though. He knew his daughter felt she was born ready for anything. With the same hand that was holding her plastic black spatula, Penelope scratched at her chin where small red bumps were forming. She had inherited Luke's acne prone skin and the new French air was different than the Sydney wind that she grew up in. "Dad, I'm ready." Sliding the first fluff cinnamon pancake onto a teal with mustard yellow damask plate, Penelope's promised. She reached out her arm to offer it to him, bringing her dad from the folded futon to the petite table for two that was attached to her kitchen wall. "My therapist told you I made great progress, the neurologist said she didn't see any reason for me to not go. I haven't surfed in almost a year, I don't drive anymore, I don't drink, I haven't even been on a swing set since Snapper Rock..." She felt like she was making a great case for herself, but her Dad's face wasn't giving her much indication of whether or not he was convinced. He just looked like a man enjoying his breakfast which made Penny happy enough. She had taken to cooking because she wanted some independence in her life after her surfing accident. She just wanted a hobby so she wouldn't long for the ocean anymore. While Penelope knew nothing would ever make her feel like surfing had, she did enjoy being creative in the kitchen. Her friends could take on the waves and she would work on creating the world's best taco salad. "Can I get you juice or milk?" Pouring batter into the pan for her own pancake, she asked.

"I'll get it." Clearing his threat, Luke rose from the wooden stool that he had hauled up eight flights to stairs and went to her fridge with it's broken door. Penelope thought it was perfect. "It would be okay if you wanted me to stay." 

Penelope couldn't find a polite way to express that she really didn't want him to, "Dad, I need this adventure." She had always been a wild weed that he could not control despite multiple attempts. Losing her ability to be reckless and high energy had felt debilitating for Penelope. She hadn't been excited since the accident until she applied for culinary school in Paris. It wasn't as if she couldn't study in Sydney because she could. She really just wanted something new again, she wanted to feel exhilarated. Penelope had been dreaming of having her life back and this felt like a direct path. 

Luke felt the sense of urgency in Penny's voice and leaned into it. He knew that she had felt like a prisoner inside of her self since having to give up surfing via doctor's orders. He just couldn't find any tranquility within himself when he imagined walking out the door and leaving her to her own wits in a city that she didn't know with a language barrier. 

"I promise to Skype every Monday after school. Didn't you and Grandma have a thing like that when you toured?" Penelope really couldn't remember if that was true or not. It wasn't because of her slow memory, but just because she had never actually known the arrangement between her Grandma Liz and her dad.

"She came with me on my first tour actually." He smiled with maple syrup on his lips as he sat back at the table. 

"Well, good thing I'm not touring." Flipping her flapjack in the sizzling pan, Penelope smiled smugly over at him. "Good, right?" She asked referring to the breakfast she had made. Cinnamon pancakes were the first thing she made that he had really liked, eating two stacks when she made them for her family. 

"They're great." He assured even though she didn't need it. "Mondays for Skype and texts every night after work." She had managed to hook herself up with a job garnishing dishes and preparing ingredients in a popular tapas place in her neighborhood, Montemare. Penny wanted a spot at a bakery, but no one would take her with her grade level French. Cédaz would work though. She didn't have to interact with patrons, she could make money, work on her French, learn from accomplished chefs, and listen to jazz music on the weekends. It was a start point and, with her head injury, Penelope felt like she was getting very good at starting points. 

"Every night? Our time zones are totally different!" Laughing, Penny shook her head as she dumped her own giant pancake onto a plate and then shut off the stove. "What about I don't text you on a schedule, but if I miss a Monday Skype date, you can move here?" She straddled the empty stool and set herself up on the very little space that was left at the table, her eyes glowing down to meet Luke's as soon as he looked up from his plate. 

"I know you're kidding, but I will accept the counter offer." Pointing at her with his sticky used fork, Luke agreed and hesitantly chuckled with her. 

Silence came between them giving Penelope a chance to catch up to her dad with breakfast while it gave Luke an opportunity to try and feel more comfortable. He watched as Penny reached over and helped herself to a sip from his mug of milk. His grin grew like a empty balloon after a first exhale. It reminded him of when she was little and wanted to be part of every thing he did. If he was wearing a beanie, she had to have one. If he was gnawing on pretzels while watching TV, she wanted to share. When he would go to an award show, she would write her name on the inside of his hand, so she could come along somehow. Luke wasn't sure when but, Penelope had outgrown his influence somewhere and Luke never realized how badly he missed when she wanted to follow him like a shadow.

"When you were like 7 or 8, you threw a fit because we wouldn't buy you bunk beds." Luke interrupted their comfortable quiet, earning his daughter's eyes opening up behind the rim of the mug that had been his. They were so blue, enhanced by the teal of the cup, that Luke could see the waves she grew up chasing inside. "We were thinking about getting them for the twins for the place in Burbank and you wanted them too."

"I don't remember." She put the cup down by his plate and dug back into her pancake. Penelope hated when she couldn't remember things like she used to. The Burbank house barely rung a bell even if she knew it was a prominent place in her childhood.

"I had forgot to until now." At his own nostalgia, Luke offered a meek  smirk. It was funny because he hadn't recalled the memory ever before, but he could now remember her laying on the floor so clearly, pulling at her own shirt, and wailing. "We kept explaining to you," He and Cagney. "That you didn't need bunk beds because you didn't have a twin, eventually you just laid down in the middle of the Ikea pick up and cried because you wanted one that you and I could share." 

Embarrassed, Penelope rolled her eyes at herself. If her mouth hadn't been full, she would have called her younger self "a total gomer".

"Dad, are you going to start crying?" Very seriously, Penny asked with her pupils ready to roll the moment he answered. She had barely swallowed her bite, she just wanted to be ready. 

"No." Sternly, Luke grunted and stabbed the remaining bit of his breakfast. "I'm just proud of you." She never could handle when anyone was sentimental. Penelope preferred the future if she had to chose between it or the past. She always had been the type to just keep going. 

Luke realized that he wasn't that worried about Penelope being on her own in Paris. She had the world at her finger tips again - finally. She was going to start her new job that evening, she would explore and learn a new city, and she would make friends. People were attracted to Penelope whether or not they wanted to be. She could draw anyone in with her freckles and 'relaxed as a pool noodle' energy. Cagney had raised her to never be scared and he had taught her to have a healthy dose of fear. Together, they had made Penelope and Luke knew they had done something right with her. He had to return to Sydney and keep raising two boys. Maybe Penelope had outgrown him again, but he knew she would reach out if and when she needed him even if it was just for a sip of his milk or to help carry furniture. 

"Got any more pancakes?" Trying to be supportive of the reality she was choosing for herself, Luke asked. "I have a long flight ahead of me." He had to leave today. It was what she needed and that was more important.

***************************

He was so used to someone else planning his agenda that he had managed to book a horrible flight home, leaving him with an entire in New York before returning to Sydney where his youngest son was apparently bed ridden from heartbreak delivered by a one Daphne Hood. Luke and Calum hadn't even talked while he was in Paris, but Luke was really starting to worry now that the two facts had something to do with one another. He didn't think Calum would be that petty, but it wasn't out of the realm of possibility. They had never been in this sort of circumstance before.

While the cab was locked in traffic, Luke shut off his phone to preserve some battery. He looked around at the Flat Iron District he was entering and felt completely uninspired. He loved New York, but the skyscrapers that currently surrounded him felt lifeless. They didn't tell a story at all. He remembered once suggesting to Cagney that they set up shop somewhere in Saint Mark's, but Ashton and Simone had just found their dream house in Sydney and raved about how nice it was to not have any fans or paparazzi on their lawn or outside Molly's activities. At the time, Cagney was starting to feel symptoms of baby fever and she was obsessed with finding them a home away from fame since she felt confident they would grow up on the road most of the time. In her dream world, she would have raised their children in Minnesota where she grew up, but Luke compromised with a custom built mansion in a private area in Sydney. 

Sometimes he really wanted a real break from himself and Sydney had been a comfortable place to relax near family and be on his own when he needed to be. He supposed staying straight would have been more challenging in New York or Los Angeles than it was in Sydney, and it was not without its slip ups there either. He frowned at the building the yellow cab stopped in front of. There was a doorman waiting and then a security deal inside so he knew it was where his pseudo niece, Emmeline Clifford lived, but it was dull and drab. It didn't seem like the kind of place where she belonged at all. He hadn't even seen the neon light of a girl yet, but Luke could sense that something was off before he even stepped out onto the pavement. 

It was quarter to eleven in the evening and it dawned on Luke that he didn't mention to Emmeline that he was coming. Maybe she was out dancing on a table top or she could have been fast asleep due to an early call time. As he went to sign in with the front desk security employee, he realized he didn't know the kids like he did when they were small and forced the be on tour. It was possible that Emmeline still loved paper dolls and plastic pearls, but Luke doubted it.  

He took the elevator up to the 20th floor where Emmeline reigned over the Flat Iron district and had been for almost a month now. Luke wondered if he should have brought her something. It wasn't the right time for muffins or coffee, but he wondered if he should have thought to come with a house warming gift. That was always Cagney's department. He considered just giving her a check, but he knew that wasn't what most people considered sentimental or classy. 

The elevator released him with a bright ping and he was surprised to see Emmeline almost instantly. She was unlocking her door with a green Chloe purse thrown over her shoulder and a pair of torturous Brian Atwood pumps in the same hand she was using on the door. She didn't look like Emmeline though. She had long ginger hair that ran straight as a needle to the small of her back. Luke blinked at it and tried to figure out on his own if it was real or not. She must have been busy as a model these days, changing her hair the way normal folk changed their underwear. 

It was her though. She could feel a tall shadow cast over her and glanced behind her bare shoulder, the top of her dress starting at her clavicle. Luke saw Michael's eyes with her mother's busy and turbulent stare. Emmeline pushed her apartment door open  and tossed her purse and shoes inside before letting out a delighted squeal and running to hug her Uncle. 

"This is the best part of my day and I got to try on vintage Halston!" She giggled in his ear as she stood on the tips of toes and embraced his neck. When she was as close as she currently was, Luke could sense all the changes of a few weeks in her. She had a cough for starters, but he had to lean in closer to hug her in return. Pieces of her body were missing and the glow of her skin was painted on like her emerald green smokey eye. "Oh my God, how's Penny? Does she own Paris already?" Emmeline asked very sincerely once she dropped down to her regular height. She looked over her uncle and could just tell he was jet lagged. Emme pushed her door open again, picking up her discarded items, and led him inside the large space she was calling home for now. 

"Not quite owning it." Luke chuckled and followed his niece into the darkness before she slid the dimmer switch upward and revealed her messy place. There was a stair master in front of her couch covered in blankets, but as far as Luke could tell Emme was just using the water bottle older for an ash tray and the rest as an impractical clothing rack. The sight distracted him and he lost his own answer as well as Emmeline. He found her putting her shoes and purse down on her black kitchen island and shaking out her heavy hair. "She's going to be fine though. She's pretty excited to be on her own. How about you? You must love being out here." 

"I do." Practically whistling as she tightened her arms to her sides, Emmeline responded. "I've been busy, so the place is kind of a messy." Waving her hands in front of her to showcase the space, she excused herself. "I also just choose to live this way." Making him laugh, Emmeline added with a shrug before taking the brown elastic from her wrist and tying up her heavy locks that she wasn't used to after wearing for about eighteen hours. She left it in a long swinging ponytail and looked over her Uncle Luke. He was walking deeper into her apartment, observing the surface. She squished her lips together to the side, concerned he was going to report every thing he spotted and every word she said back to her parents who she was avoiding. Ever since Michael left, she only spoke to him through vicious voice mails. Her mother and her had strained conversations, but mostly over text and email. 

"Eddie visit you already?" Luke leaned up against the other side of the island and nodded to his left shoulder, motioning at the few Polaroids magnetically attached to her fridge door. The centre one of her and Edwin Styles kissing. He had on a tailored black peacoat while she was in a top that looked more like a satin bra leaving Luke to wonder what the weather situation was outside of the Freedom tours. 

"Yes. He just left a few days ago, but he will be back." She gave the fridge her attention, looking at the picture of her and Iden under a bright purple star magnet. It was taken the day after she left and right before she pulled on his ear and made him groan in pain. Her smile beaming with amusement. 

"Is he your boyfriend?" Like the terrible gossip he was, Luke came right out and asked before knitting his eyebrows at the sight of the prescription bottle shining orange inside her purse and the different empty champagne bottles that were collecting around the top of her sleek black cabinets. He couldn't help, but think back to when he first began touring by himself, when people only ever said "yes" to him, he imagined Emmeline was beginning to encounter a lot of those scenarios. He could see her enjoying the attention and pleasure just the way he had. 

"I don't know." Surprising him and bringing his attention back to her, she answered and yawned. Emmeline stretched out her arms, hearing both shoulders crack before sliding up on top of the kitchen island to make herself more comfortable. "We spend a lot of time together and we are supportive..." Bored with herself, she began to explain. "He is definitely obsessed with me, he says he's in love, but I just don't know." She finished by shaking her ponytail back and forth against her back, not sure which way she was going to go. 

Luke didn't press for more, but Emmeline found more to say. She always did, "Sometimes I feel like I have to be with him because he's the only person who likes this life. And you know me, I don't like anything I have to do." 

"What do you mean 'this life'?" He had a hunch, but he knew better than to assume. It had been one of Penny's biggest pet peeves with him that he always assumed what she was feeling or thinking. 

Emme patted her matte Bordeaux colored lip and tried to find words to describe what she meant. It wasn't as if anyone asked her hard hitting questions out there. Sometimes she didn't think anyone would care how she felt if she didn't raise her voice and let them know. Luke moved deeper into the kitchen, noting how bare it was. He opened up the fridge as his stomach gurgled, but the contents inside couldn't even make a sandwich. He only saw a half finished Pom juice, a six pack of wild berry apple sauce with four containers left, and a bull bag of baby carrots. It caused him enough concern that he pulled open the cupboard beside it, fully snooping. It was sad to Luke that he felt relieved when he saw a box of minute rice and a dozen cans of tuna. 

"You know those times where people don't invite you to their birthday parties or," Emmeline stopped watching her Uncle look around her place and started to rummage through her purse. She never had a hard time being herself no matter who the company she was keeping was. "Think of the times where one of your kids asked you not to pick them up or come to a Christmas recital because of the attention you'd bring, that's what I mean." Emmeline pulled out a carton of cigarettes, putting one between her lips and offering the pack to her tired uncle. She could see him thinking about whether or not he should. "I won't tell Aunt Keg." Emmeline promised with a silly smile, keeping the smoke still. 

"You feel like a bit of liability." Luke remembered the feeling well. It came with living a public life. He took the cigarette and leaned in for the light from her plastic Bic lighter once she was finished with it. He knew Michael and Grace would not be impressed with him, but at least he had Emmeline talking. She was trying her best to freeze them out since they announced they were getting divorced. 

"Yeah." Emme agreed, exhaling smoke toward the ceiling. Luke understood why she was a model. She made even something as tacky as smoking look good. Emmeline was truly stunning and he hoped the industry wouldn't stomp out her soul. It had always been the fireworks that set off inside of her that made her stand out. He didn't want to see her soulless. Her face seemed so much more hollow than it was under the Sydney sun.  "I just think it's too much for a lot of people and I get that. They think they want to be a part of it, so they invite you to hang out or they cozy up with you only to freak out later because it's beyond control and it's a hazard." She was talking from experience. Emmeline was meeting some loneliness in New York and she hadn't felt that way since she was much younger. There was a time when she struggled with her Dad always being on the road and she always felt alone when Iden would slip into a depressive episode. “Not everyone can do it all the time. People want breaks and my life is starting to not have time for those.”

Luke knew exactly what she was talking about. Those days didn't feel all that far away for him even though they were ages ago. He didn't envy her. It was a very lonesome place to be even though hands would reach out from every corner for a piece of the spotlight.

"You can find people who can handle it." Luke tried to assure her as he hoisted himself up on the counter, his long legs barely dangling over the hardwood floor. "You are lucky to have friends who know that life." Luke always thought that it was great all the kids from the band few up together. He lost a lot of buddies when he started to gain notoriety. Like Emmeline said, his new life was just too much. It hurt even if he understood the situation. "You could talk to Penny about it." He suggested. He wanted their friendship to stay strong. They had been close since Penelope was born.

"I know." 

"Or your Dad." Blowing his exhale right at her, Luke tried again. Instead of a response, she arched her back and then let her eyes shoot sharp daggers at him. "Come on, Emme, I had to try." 

"There's cups in the cupboard beside you if you need an ashtray." She frowned. 

Luke pulled the door closest to his head open and chose the first white teacup he could see with its dainty violets all over. He spotted diet pills on the second shelf and cleared his throat confront her about it. 

"So, Molly got arrested." Emmeline chimed in first, digging deeper into their gossip session. Her legs were folded at the ankles as she wiggles her toes around for her own entertainment. "I really thought it would be somebody else. I never pegged Molly." 

"Yeah." Out of reflex, he laughed in a sigh. "Who did you think it would be? March?" 

"No, he's too depressed for that right now. I'm surprised you stopped here actually. I thought you would want to go straight home and pull him out of bed, hose him down." She had heard through Miles that March had decided to boycott personal hygiene while working his way through his first heartbreak. This was very different than when Taco Bell discontinued his favourite salsa option. 

"I sent him a text, but Cagney says he hasn't been answering messages." Luke explained even though he knew it wasn't a very solid excuse. Truthfully, he hadn't the slightest clue what to say to March. He always thought Daphne was too good for his youngest son, but he knew that wasn't a very comforting thing to say. 

"You didn't call?" Emmeline was stunned. She was always dramatic so Luke didn't bat an eye when she pretended to drop her lit cigarette from her mouth. "Michael Clifford is   out of the running this year, you could have been a shoo-in for Father of The Year." In her typical fashion, Emmeline teased. "Uncle Ash is disqualified thanks to his criminal daughter. You could have had it, Uncle Luke! It was almost in the bag!" 

He knew she was right even if she was making him laugh. The sentiment on how easy it could have been to offer March support was not lost on him. Luke has accidentally used being in Paris as an excuse, but in his defense, setting his daughter up and readying himself to leave her behind had been very time consuming. 

"Have you eaten?" Bluntly, he asked, watching as Emmeline slid off of the counter like a very clumsy snake. She walked over to him and put out her long Camel in the tea cup he was using. She avoided eye contact with him and sucked in her stomach, a bad habit she had formed from watching her mother do it in front of the mirror for as long as she could remember. 

"I'm fine. An agent took me out earlier." 

"You have no food in your kitchen." 

"I'm not a very good cook." Very honestly, Emmeline excused herself. "I eat a lot of take out."

"Champagne isn't a very balanced diet." With the burning end of his cigarette, Luke pointed to the collection above before blowing smoke rings at it. 

"I think I just heard teenage Luke Hemmings die." Emme snorted as she rested a hand on her hip and jet it away from him. She had heard the stories she knew how impossibly hard her dad and his band mates used to party. Hell, she had lived through a lot of it. 

"I was more of a hard liquor kind of a kid." With a smirk that exposed the same amount of attitude as sticking out his tongue, Luke retorted. "I'm hungry. If I get food, will you come along?" He felt his odds were pretty good for getting her to eat. He wasn't convinced by her sharp cheek bones, missing roller coaster curves, and empty cupboards that she had been taking very good care of herself. "Do you have an early morning?"

"Not really." She was supposed to go to a spin class and meet with her agency appointed trainer, but Emme didn't care enough to respect that 8 AM commitment. "I could show you a cool place. It's in a basement in Rose Hill." 

"What kind of food?" He would always think with his stomach.

"Sushi. It's a martini bar, but they serve sushi." 

"What are you doing at a martini bar?" She was underage. He knew that never stopped him from going to clubs in the United States when he was a teen, but he was older now and cared about his niece more than any girl that danced wasted in the clubs he went too. She was his best friend's kid and his daughter's best friend. Emmeline felt like one of his own. 

When Michael first informed everyone that Emme would be moving to New York after she graduated, Luke wasn't the least bit worried. She was always very headstrong. Emmeline seemed to know who she was from day one. It was almost haunting now to see her smaller. She had been larger than life since he first held her, her lungs letting out cries that rock stars all over the world could envy. 

"I like their tuna bakudan." Fixing him a stare that said, 'Give me a break', Emme informed him. She didn't mind their lemon gin martinis either, but she only ever had them because no one carded her there. Her adult body had been getting her where she wasn't welcomed since she was fifteen.

"Sure." He put out his smoke and dropped the filter into the cup. "Do you want to change into something more comfortable?" 

"I am comfortable." Looking down at her skin tight velvet outfit, Emmeline deadpanned before heading to her bedroom to do just as he suggested. She figured it would be nice to be able to breathe properly if they were going out into the night. 

While he waited, Luke stood up on the ground and focused on her fridge. The few contents truly bothered him. He knew how much Michael worried about his daughter's self esteem and how brutal the modelling industry could be. Luke felt out of his element though. This was a territory he had never treaded before. He knew that Ashton once dated a girl with an eating disorder, but he doubted that history would help him out now. He never had to deal with that with his own kids. Miles had a very healthy appetite and loved his body. He walked the line of vanity and sometimes he was just tiptoeing. Miles could not have cared less about society's ideals of beauty. He thought supermodels and hot pockets were on the same level when it came to sexiness. Then Penelope, flat chested and tall like her Dad, never really made mention of her body. Luke only realized now how lucky he was for that. He wondered if she had ever confided in Cagney about her feelings of self worth. Maybe she knew more than he did. 

Luke studied the photo of Eddie and Emmeline, noticing this time the photo below of Emmeline with a feather boa wrapped around her neck and a gorgeous male model knocking his head against hers as he flashed his a 25,000 dollar grin at the camera. On the small whiteboard that was magnetized to the top of the fridge, a black lipstick stain was left with a phone number under it and the name "Morgan". He wondered if it was female or male, but his thoughts were interrupted when he jumped out of his skin at the sound of Emmeline's cell phone buzzing from inside her bag. It purred viciously, harder than her cat did under her bed, and poured onto the island. He almost snooped, but he heard Emmeline's door open and he stopped himself, fisting both hands into the pockets of his jean jacket. 

"Is it cool if I leave my suitcase here?" He asked before Emmeline emerged.

"Yeah. You can sleep in the spare room, you know? Don't worry about a hotel." His flight was early and they were practically family.  "I'm ready." Emmeline tugged on the bottom of her crop top sweater and went to fetch her bag. Luke was puzzled by her shirt. He didn't understand what the point of a sweater that didn't cover you was, but he didn't ask. She had fallen in love with it when she saw it in the lost and found at a nightclub in Brooklyn. He concentrated on attempting to read Emmeline's face as she read her text. It looked annoyed, but she was keeping her back to him at an angle.  

“Are you sure you're ready? Everything okay?” He could exercise paitience with Emmeline. She wasn't his child and something about that lack of responsibility brought out a warm easiness out of Luke.

“Oh yeah.” Emmeline groaned and stuffed her phone back into bag before pulling it over her shoulder. Luke couldn't see her face yet, but he knew underneath her big fake lashes that she had rolled her eyes around. “It's just, like, every model here does blow.” She informed him while lifting up both her arms and tying her long locks into a tight and much bouncier ponytail. She had longed to have it out of her face all day.

Her words stunned Luke, but not the blaise way in which she said them. It was as if she had just told him a new television show that she was binge watching or that her cat, Harriet, had scratched a curtain.

“Can't be every model,” He set up while stroking the stubble all over his chin. He had only shaved once while in Paris. “Do you?”

“No, I don't want to.” Settling his concerns, Emmeline confidently said as she strolled by the door. On her way, she picked up a pair of slip on black shoes.

It was comforting to hear that Emmeline 'did not want to' do drugs. In Luke's experience, it was impossible to get Emmeline Clifford to do anything she simply did not want to do.

“You don't have to.” From ear to ear, Luke grinned and clapped his hands together as he followed behind her to the door.

“Not planning to.” Emmeline held the door open for him, his hand holding it for her to go first.

“Emme, you know you can talk to me.” He liked to think he was a pretty cool uncle actually. It wasn't as if she had any actual biological uncles on either side, so she was stuck with Michael's band brothers. He pushed the arrow facing down and waited for the elevator, waiting for Emme to open up. She wasn't exactly known for being a vault.

“Thanks, Gossip Girl,” She poked him in his shoulder and teased. “but it's not like you did coke more than once. What do you know?”

Cold, but sharp, he felt a rock lodge in his throat and he wondered if it looked as big as it felt. He didn't want the ever observative Emmeline to see how unstable he suddenly felt. The elevator doors widened and Luke shuffled her in, following quickly behind and watching her click the ground level's square button. He wasn't sure if there would ever be a good venue or time to share with Emmeline old stories of the darker days he found when he followed a path that a world of 'yes', opportunists, and not real friends. Mostly Luke just worried about the stories making their way back to his own children. He didn't think either of his boys had a clue that he struggled with cleaning up his act when they were just crying potatoes. He and Penelope never discussed it, but Luke didn't know if that was because she didn't know, didn't remember, or didn't care. It was embarrassing. Emmeline had surprised him many times before with the information she had managed to get her manicured hands on.

“I know about pressure.” Luke settled on saying as they walked out of the apartment build, both thanking the doorman in near unison.

Breathing in the warm winds of summer, Emmeline grinned into the humidity and linked her arm with her Uncle Luke's as if she was about to lead him down a yellow brick road.

“Can we talk about something else? Like Connor's tour or Molly's, like, giant beef patty of a boyfriend. Have you Googled him?” She began to gab. There was so much going on and both she and Luke were very out of the loop.

*************************** Holding a yellow-green maple leaf in both hands that Emmeline had asked him to keep since she found it to be particularly interesting, Michael stared at it with tired and blank eyes - looking without paying much attention. He was happy for his friends, getting married on a September Saturday with low winds in Toronto, but he was also exhausted. This was his day off, first in a week, and he was tired from catching a red eye from Illinois to be there to watch two people wed. 

"Daddy?" Emmeline interrupted the stillness in his mind. She sat up straight after slouching down on her bottom over the bench they had taken to in the courtyard of the country club. Emmeline was growing bored and he took her out to blow off some steam, run around in an open field in her puffy white flower girl dress that reminded her of the snowballs she had seen kids playing with on television. Michael was enjoying the fresh air too. He could have brought her back inside a few minutes ago as she had run back to him and climbed up on the bench by herself. Once Michael rolled his head to face her, their eyes mirroring each others, Emmeline began again, "Am I pretty?"

It caught him off guard, but he reached down and very casually pat her hair that had been pulled back into two tight braids tied on the side of her head, "Of course you are." It was a strange question, but he chose not to pry. Emmeline was always spouting off questions about everything she saw, smelled, and felt. 

"Am I pretty like Mommy?" It sounded like a very different question even if the answer, to Michael, was exactly the same. He sighed into a slight chuckle this time. Emmeline was squishing her lips together like a very dramatic cartoon fish, waiting for him to respond. She was at that age where it didn't matter what he said, he was her Dad and he knew everything. 

"Yes, you are." Michael promised her again with a gentle dip of his chin. "People tell you that you look like mom all the time." It was very high praise for someone as Michael had felt like his wife was so striking that she belonged in the Smithsonian. Right now, they were in a great place, but even when they were working their way through a rough patch, Michael felt like Grace shone brighter than everyone else in a room. Emmeline certainly favored him facially, but she had all of her mother's gestures and expressions especially the deadpan 'I don't expect anything from you' face much to Mike's dismay.

"Yeah!" Emmeline jumped up in a huff. "But I have your eyebulbs too!" As if to prove her point, her pulled down on her cheeks and held her eyes open at him, standing between his knees and shaking her stretched out face around. 

Emmeline had been calling eyes "eyebulbs" for as long as Michael could remember and he knew he should correct her so that she didn't turn into a teenager who actually thought that was what that body part was called, but he found it very endearing. 

"You don't think mine are pretty?" Mustering up enough energy, Michael leaned in close so their noses were just an inch away from one another and blinked his eyes rapidly at her. As soon as she laughed, he brought her close to his chest with one hand behind her back, tickling at her. 

"Yes!" She practically squealed as she clenched her elbows into her ribs, a weak defence against her dad's digging fingers. 

"Everybody says I'm pretty and I don't know how?!" Once he gave her a break to catch her breath, Michael sat up straight and pushed his back against the cold metal bench to listen. Emmeline held her hands up at her ears, showing him just how uncertain she was. "Why do they say that?" She was a stunning baby with eyes like mines blue gems that changed colour with the angle of the sun or the low gaze of the moon. She had her father's extra pale complexion and naturally pinched red lips. People stopped Grace when she would push Emme's stroller through the mall just to rhapsodize over how beautiful the little girl was. Emmeline had been being poked and adored for her features from day one and she was only now understanding that she didn't know what all the dis was about.

"They say that because it's a compliment." Michael simply informed her. It dawned on him that if he mishandled the topic he could cause lasting damage, but it was the truth. "But you know what's more important to me?" Cupping his hands together between the knees of his black dress pants, Michael engaged her. She leaned in close and put a hand over her ear as if he was about to share a juicy secret with her. "It's more important to me that you're smart, and nice, and happy." Michael rattled off, taking her hand from her ear lightly and giving it a little kiss. 

"Oh! I am!" She took back her hand and twirled around in her puff of a dress, watching the fabric move under her. "I am smart and happy!" She omitted 'nice' because her Mom was always telling her the way she tried to play with her one year old brother wasn't very nice. It wasn't Emmeline's fault that he couldn't catch the Barbie dolls she tossed in his direction. 

"Good." Michael agreed while standing up. He stretched out while bending backwards lightly to try and crack his backside. "Okay, let's go back inside." He nodded his head to his right shoulder, trying to corral her to follow him back into the reception hall of the country club. Emmeline was moving in the opposite direction though, twirling closer and closer to the golf course they were staring out at. "Emmy!" He yelled, but she didn't stop or come back. Michael could see that she grinned at the sound of her name, knowing full well she was being a touch bratty. "Emmeline." He had a half mind to count to three, but that was reserved for when she was being an absolute nightmare of a child. Michael sighed and forgot all about her leaf on the bench. He moved straight for her, capturing her off guard as she was spinning. He hooked his hands under her pits and spun her around. Like a bullet meeting the air sharply, she laughed furiously. 

"It's also important to me that you listen." He grumbled into her pearl pierced ear before sneaking a kiss onto her chin. 

Michael carried her inside, her proud smile beaming, and then set her down on the ivory floor where she walked nicely in front of him instead of running like the speed of light. 

******************************************

While mainlining sushi rolls into his mouth, eager to conquer his hunger, Luke watched with bewildered and unimpressed eyes as Emmeline filled up on ginger tea and pickled cabbage. They had ordered six rolls between them and she had only put one piece of tuna bakudan on her small brown plate. Luke's concern grew, but he didn't know how to approach the subject. He knew Emmeline's world had drastically changed between her parents impending divorce and setting up roots in New York, he understood everyone had their own way of coping with change as he had experienced his own penchant for handling change poorly, but he had a hard time sitting there and not confronting the issue. If it was Penelope, he would have just come right out and asked her what the hell was going on. Emmeline wasn't under his jurisdiction though. It wasn't like when they were kids and raised by a village. He couldn't put her on a time out or make any choice for her. 

"Have you made any new friends out here?" Pausing on the rolls, Luke reached for his cup of jasmine tea and cleared his throat from the delicious taste of raw red tuna. 

"Not really." Thinking about it for all of six seconds, she responded while moving the thin pieces of pink cabbage around her plate with a single chopstick. "I mean, I knew a couple girls out here from runway stuff and they introduced me to some other people, but they were pretty boring." Everyone knew that Emmeline hated being bored above anything else. It scratched at her skin like claws of an invisible demon. "Eddie has friends out here, but they seem like real Arzayleas to me." Smirking, she looked up from her plate and watched for her uncle's reaction. The blue green tint in her eyes almost blinded him as the dim lights of the lounge caught them at the right angle. 

"A real what?" Almost choking on his sashimi Luke pat down on his clavicle and asked.

"Dad always called our friends he didn't trust that." She explained casually like she wasn't teasing him about a part of his former life. "Users, hanger-onners, opportunists, social media influ-"

"I get it." Shaking his head low, Luke stopped her. "I was very young." He tried to excuse himself to his gossipy niece. 

"Is that an excuse for making bad decisions?"

"You tell me," Knowing he could play her game too, Luke retorted, "Girl filling up on flecks of pickled cabbage and tea."  He raised his a single untamed brow at her in accusatory manner at her.  

"I have a fitting tomorrow afternoon." She explained, but Like didn't care.

"Try the California roll." He picked one up from the communal plate between them with his soy sauce kissed chopsticks and plopped it down by her other untouched roll. Luke knew he said "try", but it was not open to negotiation. “You've had a couple shoots since you've been out here.” He decided to move on once Emmeline reached over her plate for the soy sauce, pouring a little for dipping in the small tray beside her. “You haven't met anybody nice on set?” He knew models didn't have reputation for being friendly. His friends had dated enough for him to know that and he had slept his way through a couple long legs himself, but Luke figured there was an exception to every role. It was just like how everyone assumed all rock stars were total asshats, but Calum Hood remained level headed and kind for as long as Luke had known him.

“Not really. Makeup artists tend to be nice, but they're paid to be.” She knew that to be a fact as she had had her face fussed over by so many different artists before. She didn't know if any of them were being sincere when they showed interest in her feelings and comfort. She knew she was just a vase they were instructed to paint in order to sell in a shop window. It didn't bother Emmeline in the slightest. The truth, up until her parents announcing their split, had never made her uncomfortable.

“Are you enjoying yourself out here?” Not convinced, Luke checked.

“Oh yeah, of course!” Emmeline assured him loudly, practically shouting as she picked up her chopsticks to eat the first roll in front of her. “There's nowhere else I want to be right now.” She knew she was very lucky. There were a hundred girls who had never so much as been seen by an agent who would murder her to be in her position. Emmeline tried not to be ungrateful. “I love it out here. I don't need friends to be happy.” She was always the center of attention in her own world. She didn't need the approval of others to feel good. Emmeline thought she had a very healthy amount of confidence. “I have friends. They're just in Australia and LA mostly.” And Paris now that Penelope was chasing after a new dream of becoming a culinary whiz.

“Good.” He was truly glad to hear it. “You think you want to model forever?” He wasn't sure how long the shelf life was in the industry. He remembered his parents drilling it into him that he needed to have a backup plan if his music dreams didn't pan out or last as long he wished them to. Luke still didn't know what the Hell he would do if one day all his opportunities faded.

“Maybe.” She said after swallowing her roll and taking her finger down from her lips where it had asked for a minute. “I'm going to keep doing this for as long as I can get away with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don't know what else I would really do.” When she looked at University majors online, there was nothing that jumped out at her. “I've never tried to be anything besides pretty if I'm being honest.” She craved a cigarette, but decided to just muscle her way through the California roll instead, picking it up with her chopsticks and holding it by her face as she spoke. “One day, I won't be pretty enough because what people are into will have changed,” She thought she knew the reality of things despite being very fresh to the industry and I'll have to find something else.” She shrugged as it was so simple. “Maybe, I'll sell shoes.” She guessed before popping the roll into her mouth, her lipstick beginning to fade into a soft ombre from eating and sipping on tea. Emmeline hadn't realized how deeply her Uncle Luke was listening until she brought her eyes back up from checking into her purse on the floor, right under the table. Her phone had lit up, but she couldn't tell what the message read. She imagined it would be one of her parents, still trying to make her talk to them.

“Shoes?” He didn't know why he was so surprised, but Emmeline always had a way of making his brows raise.

“I like shoes.” She summed up. “I'm also a very good salesperson. I can make anyone do anything.” There was the confidence he knew to be strong in her. “Or I could work for Molly or something. If she keeps tying herself to trees, she'll need a lawyer.” Emmeline joked and laughed as she made Luke snort. “Or a nanny for all her rugby babies.” Emmeline didn't fancy children and figured she would make as bad a nanny as she would a mother, but it was still an option.

“I think you're selling yourself a bit short.” Luke never thought he would say that to her.

“You know my mum is talking about going back to school.” Iden had told her over Skype a few days before. “She's all about 'Chapter 2' and creating herself now.” Or so it had been explained to Emme by her baby brother. “She's always been obsessed with having an identity outside of being Michael Clifford's wife.” She said her dad's name like it didn't taste good in her mouth, like she had to speak around it or even spit after.

“I think that's awesome.” Luke nodded along, eager to ask Cagney about it. He liked to know the details on everyone's life. A natural born gossip just like Emmeline Clifford. “Your mom put a lot on hold for a long time.” People gave Grace guff for being brash and easily annoyed, but she was generous. She always took care of everyone around her. Luke remembered always being impressed by how easily she could just rise to the occasion whenever anyone is in need. She remembered every crew members birthday, she researched alternatives when Luke had to make the entire tour staff aware of Penelope's peanut allergy, and she would always put Michael first even after one of their knockdown/drag out fights. It was about time she chased her own goals. “I hope she finds something she really loves.” As someone who got to live his dream, Luke always felt bad for people who weren't as fortunate. He knew everybody had a dream, but only some people got to know what it was like to wake up every day and live it.

“Me too, I guess.” Emmeline shrugged with both lips and her shoulders. She might not have been a very big fan of her parents at the moment, but Emmeline did agree with Luke. It was time for her mum to focus on herself even if it hurt Emme selfishly.

Emmeline pushed her plate away from her stomach and reached for the large, almost exploding, black binder on top of the sushi counter. She had to sit up from the chair and use both hands to maneuver it onto the space she had cleared on the table.

“What's that?”

“Karaoke starts in about ten minutes.” It was their after hours special. Martinis dropped in price, the kitchen closed, and the music began.

“You brought me to a karaoke bar?” Luke couldn't remember the last time he sang karaoke. He was pretty sure he was too drunk to speak at the time.

“It's a martini bar that has karaoke.” Not looking up from the pages as she flipped through, Emmeline corrected him. Luke poked another roll in his mouth and shook his head at her.

“Are you going to sing?” He asked before swallowing the cucumber asparagus roll. It was his least favorite, but he couldn't not order it. It was Cagney's favorite.

“Hell yeah, I'm going to sing.” Emmeline growled and flipped her hair around behind her. “You're going to sing with me.”

“I'll just be your cheer section.” Luke tried instead, but Emmeline didn't care. She didn't know when this opportunity would rear it's head again.

“Okay, what's your favourite Whitney Houston song?” She held a large amount of the laminated sheets in one hand, trying to skip to the 'W' section.

“None.” Right away, he told her.

“I don't know that one.” Emmeline grinned sarcastically at him and put down the pages. She ran her long gel fingertip down the column, searching for a song that would be the right one for them.

“I didn't spend a lot of time getting to know her catalogue of music.”

“Well, I'm not about to cover Blink-182 or one of your old punky-pop bands, so we're going to have to compromise.” While Emmeline was occupied with big book of songs, Luke took the chance to check his phone from his pocket. He wanted an update from Penelope on how she was doing, but he wasn't sure what time it was in Paris at the moment. He checked to see if he missed any news on March or Miles from Cagney, but all he saw was a text from Michael, asking how his visit was going with Emmeline. Luke glanced up at her, leaning right over the book and poking her finger in the middle of the left page.

“I found the perfect song! Oh my god!” Emmeline jumped up and down in her chair like she would as a little girl when someone said she could have dessert. She clapped her hands like a seal in front of her face. Emmeline scurried out of her chair to go and sign them up, leaving Luke chuckling to himself as he typed out a response to his best friend.

'She's good, Mike. Lots of smiling.' It wasn't a lie. Luke just felt like he should wait until he was face to face with the guitarist before telling him about his concerns that she wasn't taking care of herself. He put his phone back into the pocket of his pants as a gust of wind blew over him. Luke looked up and saw that Emmeline had just run over. Music had begun playing and people were moving to tables closer to the stage as karaoke was starting. Eagerly, she took the wrist from his hand that was resting on the table top and yanked on it.

“Dance with me!” She begged, not asked. It was hard for Luke to say 'no' as much as he wanted to. Emmeline was like a force of nature that sucked people in, but he also knew how angry she had been when she realized her parents were splitting up. Luke thought if dancing would make her happy, it was the very least he could do. Her hips were already wiggling around and her head bopping from one side to the other when he reluctantly sat up and let her pull her closer to the small stage by the front windows.

The man up on the stage with the microphone let out quick lyrics effortlessly, performing with all his energy an extra enthusiastic version of Gloria Estefan's Conga. Luke figured out right away that he was the evening's MC. He watched as Emmeline began to do her version of salsa dancing right in front of him, in the middle of the small dance floor. She was lost inside of herself, listening to the music and allowing herself to be free. It was sort of inspiring as he reached out to spin her into his chest and then out again, just like he had done a few times when she was little and wanted a turn after he had spun Penelope or Molly around. Luke watched as Emmeline sang along to every word like she had grown up on Miami Sound Machine. He knew for a fact that she hadn't so Luke concluded that Emmeline had probably come to the martini spot with Eddie a few times (a man who would walk off a cliff naked with Emmeline Clifford told him to) or by herself since she told him how few friends she had out in New York. She was infectious as she danced around him, quickly, snapping her fingers above her head as her new red hair fell everywhere around her. Before Luke knew it, he was giving into the Latin disco song and throwing his own head around, singing along off key to the chorus. Strangely, it was exactly what he needed to lose his worries about Penelope being alone in a foreign city.

The song ended and Luke realized only on the last note that he was out of breath and actually sweating from dancing around wildly with his outgoing niece. She turned her back to him to applaud the singer, cheering for him as loud as she could. Luke wanted to join in, but he had to put his hands on his sides and try to slow his heart down. He was cool. He didn't want to die during karaoke.

“Alright, welcome to karaoke!” Absolutely unaffected to the fast song he had just been crooning to, the MC shouted into the microphone. “We've got the gorgeous Emmy Clifford starting us off tonight.” He read out while checking the paper of people who had signed up. “And....” He squinted and tried to make out her writing in the dark, it was small and in cursive that hugged each letter. “Luke Hemmings.” He made out and started to applaud them supportively.

Emme practically ran to the stage, taking the mic that the MC held out, while Luke made his way very slowly and pulled out the second microphone stand. He was used to playing in front of sold out arenas, but right now, he felt as nervous as he had when changing Penelope's diaper for the first time. He still swore that even at two days old she mocked him and he was scared these people would as well.

“I Wanna Dance With Somebody?” Backing up from the mic, he looked at Emme and stared at her with groaning eyes that asked, 'Seriously?'

“Penny and I used to jump on my bed and sing this song to each other in our hairbrushes.” She shouted  right into Luke's ear over the starting bars. “We thought it was 'Wanna Dance With a Monkey'.” Her nose hiked itself up between her eyes as she recalled the memory, pleased it made Luke laugh. As little girls, they loved the song after hearing Emmeline's mom sing it during a car ride. They became obsessed and sang it every time they had a sleep over.  Luke just read the words as Emmeline sang the first lines on her own. He was surprised at how her voice sparkled. It was as beautiful as everyone knew her to be. She was like a soft Janis Joplin. His brain instantly started to make a list of songs she could masterfully cover. “You're not singing.” She giggled at him away from the microphone before the chorus came in, Luke joining her powerfully, both of them singing like their lives depended on it. If this song meant something to her and his daughter, he was going to give it his all. He let his hand choreography shine dramatically, following Emmeline's lead.

“I need a man who will take the chance on a love that burns hot enough to last!!!” He sang out all by himself as Emmeline laughed, more with him than at him. She danced around him like her Dad might when they were performing, grinding her shoulders into his as the audience clapped playfully along with them. She couldn't wait for the last part of the song where they could sing back and forth with one another.

Once the chorus returned, Emme locked her microphone in it's stand and pointed at Luke with both fingers before bouncing backwards. She let him take center stage when the dance breakdown came, watching him as he ground his hips toward the crowd. He had lost his stage fright instantly and then pulled Emmeline close so they could do a beginner jitterbug move with one another.

***************************************

“I want to go home.” She was five and she had had enough. Her life had an inkling of routine now. She had been to kindergarten in Australia all of the last year and while it had been challenging for Emmeline to spend weeks on end without her dad, she enjoyed school. She wasn't very good at following any of the rules or sitting still on the reading mats, but she liked being able to play with kids all the time and being able to boss the other little suckers around. Being back on tour for the summer was hard. It had been her life for years, but now that she knew a different life existed, it was not as enticing.

“We'll be back at the hotel soon.” Michael held his daughter's hand in his as they crossed the street from Eggspection, the restaurant where they went for breakfast just the two of them. It was her first day of since joining her Dad on the Canadian leg of their tour and she was over it. She didn't care that they were in Montreal, she didn't care that he put aside his morning to spend time with just her, and she didn't care that she was going to get to see Molly and Connor Irwin today. Emmeline was finished.

“No!” She ripped her hand out of his and pouted, right in the middle of the main road they were currently crossing. “Not the hotel!” She stomped her foot at him, demanding his attention and not realizing she was getting more from the cars waiting for the light to change behind her. “Home! I want to go home!” It was not yet a full tantrum, but Michael feared they were at the point of no return. Unfortunately, he had to deal with the fact that they were a street and not somewhere where he could properly diffuse the situation.

“Emmeline, come on.” He held out his hand, curling up his fingers to lead her over. His voice suggested he was not playing, but neither did the burning look in his eyes. “Emmeline.” He growled, glancing away from her for just a moment to see the light was still red. Michael checked the crosswalk and saw that he only had fifteen more seconds left before it would change. Angry, he let a hot exhale release itself through his nostrils and picked her up, signalling her to start wailing in his arms and send all of her limbs flying at once. She was kicking against his stomach and hips, screaming into his ears.

“I want grandma! I want grandma! I want grandma!” She kept yelling. Michael knew that she meant his mother since Grace had not spoken to her own in years. Once they were down a block, Michael couldn't take the noise anymore. He was also sure that he would have a bruise on one his hips if he let her continue to use him as a post.

“Emmeline Mabel, stop it!” He put her down on the ground hard, her bright pink sneakers meeting the sidewalk cement with a hard 'thud'.  They had laces instead of Velcro because she was a big girl now or so she liked to inform people. Michael held her sides firmly and kept her eyes glued to his, moving his own face when she tried to leave his contact. She was going to listen to him because anything else would be made impossible. “You're not behaving yourself. This is not how we get what we want.” He confirmed for her. “This is not okay. When we get back to the hotel, you're going to go on a ten minute time out.”

“NO!” She shouted in his face and let her bottom lip jet out to blubber.

“Fifteen.” Michael was not playing. He hated being the disciplinary. It didn't feel natural, but he had a stomach ache from breakfast, he was tired from touring, and he knew he had to crackdown on Emmeline or else he would have the world's most insufferable teenager in a decade.

“That's mean.” Emmeline's wailing had turned to tears, streaks running down to burn on her pink cheeks.

“That's what happens when we throw temper tantrums.” He knew that once she cooled down they could cuddle and discuss why she was feeling the way she was, but right now Michael had to lay down the law. He stood up straight and held out his hand, taking hers as they continued to walk back to the Four Seasons. He had been looking forward to having a little alone time with her. It was rare these days and Michael felt like they both were in need of it. Emmeline didn't like to share him and, if he was being honest, he didn't like to have to give his time to people that weren't her, Iden, or Grace. He loved his job, but he knew that it was hard on his family. It was easier to manage things before them, but Michael felt like it was worth it. His international career was what provided a safe and luxurious life for them.

The rest of the walk, Emmeline sniffled and dragged her feet. She kept her fingers curled up into a fist, refusing to let her Dad properly hold her hand.

Emmeline was taken up to the hotel room, not allowed to see Daphne on their way in or even join Iden in the kitchen where he was scribbling in a coloring book and eating strawberries. Michael took her right into his and Grace's suite for the night. He plopped her down on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of it. She refused to look at him, but this time Michael didn't fight her on it.

“Fifteen minutes and then I'll come back and we will talk.” He pat her knees as he sat up and left the room, closing the door behind him. He could have closed a door twice as thick, he would have still heard Emmeline shout, 'You're the meanest Daddy ever!' behind him. It stung, but he would wait to tell her that. It would be an exhausting fifteen minutes for them both.

Only seven minutes had passed, but it felt like a year to Emmeline who couldn't tell time at all and was only what someone would classify as an okay counter. She was laying in the shape of a starfish on top of the made bed with her arms and legs spread out. The door pushed open slowly and she clenched her eyes shut. She decided that she would pretend to be asleep when her Dad came in.

Luke knew that Mike  had put Emme down for a timeout, but he still snuck into the room to fetch an acoustic guitar was in it's case on the floor by the bed. He reached down to get it, but the temptation was too great.

“Hey Emmylou?” He whispered up at her. She recognized the voice was not her Dad's and rolled her head to one shoulder, popping open her eyelids to figure out who it was that was calling her by one of her many nicknames. “I hear you had a little meltdown.”

“I want to go home.” She whimpered, emotional at the thought.

“You don't want to leave me?” Boucning on his knees as he flexed his toes that held his weight, Luke playfully pouted at her. “You just got here.”

“Yes, I do. I miss home.” It wasn't Montreal's fault. It just wasn't where her grandma was, her new bed, or her favourite toys. Her mom only let her pack a few Barbies, one paper doll book, and two stuffed animals. The kids were always spoiled with toys when they travelled. Grace knew they would come home with more stuff that just took up room in luggage.

“I get that.” He empathized before coming up and sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked down at her feet, one sneaker kicked off across the room while the other was on comfortably still. “I miss you and Penny and the twins all the time.” He informed her. Luke knew as well as anyone that Emmeline loved being missed. She thrived on it. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied that hearing it made her smile slightly and wipe at her crusty lashes. “You know what helps?”

“Nothing.” She whined into her hands and then sighed.

“I like a lollie bag. I know you don't like candy, but I find if I have a lollie bag - “

“I do! I do!” Her hair was a frizzy mess behind her as she shot up straight.

“It reminds me of home.” He finished. Luke's mum still sent him care packages when he was away, but he never told Cagney because he didn't want her to stop sending the ones she curated for him. “You like Tim Tams, right?” He checked, over his shoulder and played sly.

“And raspberry.” It didn't matter the flavor. Emme was a fiend for sugar.

“Well, all I have is jellie snakes.” Luke sadly informed her with a sigh that came from the pit of his stomach and blew a slow breeze through the room. “I guess you don't want any.” He fished them out of the pouch of his well worn grey sweatshirt, showing her the colourful bag with the treats inside. He had been carrying it around because he liked leaving a trail around rooms for Miles and March to follow. It made him laugh to see them Hansel and Gretel their way around a hotel suite, eating the candies one by one and racing each other for the next.

“I can help eat them.” She scooched closer on her butt and held out her hands.

“Alright,” Luke held open the bag and watched her reach her hand deep inside, pulling out a blue raspberry flavoured gummy worm. “But I got to ask you a question first.”

Emmeline had her mouth open like a crocodile's, ready to chomp the treat with one bite, but she stopped herself and blinked rapidly up at Luke. There was always a trick for a treat it seemed.

“Are you going to apologize to your Dad?” He stumped her. She curled her fingers up around the candy and really had to think about it. He had put her on a time out, but jellie treats were delicious. “He isn't mean. He's missed you a lot and would be pretty bummed if you went home.” Luke popped one shoulder up and then the other, weighing out Emmeline's options for her. He knew how much Michael missed his kids because he had missed his own that much. Luke felt like he learned a lot about parenting from his band mates, but he often felt like Ashton set the bar too high. He didn't think he would ever be as patient or engaged as the drummer was. He and Mike, on the other hand, had a lot of the same frustrations and opinions about things. Their daughters were so close in age as well that they spent a lot of time together even when they weren't on the road, letting the girls play together at each others homes while kicking back themselves. He looked to Mike for advice a lot, fishing for it since he was too proud to come right out and ask.

“Yes.” Emmeline finally agreed and threw the snake in her mouth. “I know he loves me.” She mumbled while chewing. It was not easy to remember to not speak with food in her mouth. She always had so much she wanted to say. Emmeline reached in for more candies, taking a handful before Luke got up to leave and take the guitar.

“I was never here.” He told her even though it made no sense to Emmeline's small brain. He winked at her as she blew a candy filled kiss in his direction and then left the room.

******************************

“You had fun tonight.” Grinning while stretched out on her couch, all her dirty clothes since moved to a laundry hamper she rarely used, Emmeline told her Uncle while taking a drag from her last cigarette of the evening.

“I did.” Luke nodded. It could not be denied. It was the most fun he had had since exploring Paris with Penelope on her third day there, popping into different bakeries and eating everything and anything they wanted to try. His daughter had looked truly happy and that was all he wanted for her. Well, that and eternal safety. “I can't imagine someone not having a great time with you.” Genuinely, Luke shared with her. Edwin Styles was right. There really was no one else like Emmeline Clifford. “Are you going to come home at Christmas?” He wasn't sure when else he would see her. Her schedule wasn't on his anymore now that she was living on her own, eighteen and trying to make it in New York.

All at once, Emmeline's face shifted from pleased with herself to almost sad.

“I don't know where I'll be in December.” It hadn't happened since she moved to New York, but Emmeline knew that there were jobs coming up that required her to travel.

“Surely there aren't runway shows and photo shoots on Christmas Day.” He really didn't know all the different parts of her job.

“I just don't know if I'll come home. Maybe, I'll want my first Christmas here.” She supposed that she could go to London and spend it with Edwin and one of his parents and their respective families. He had more step and half siblings than she could keep track of.

“Emme, you can't avoid your parents forever.” Luke cut right to it. He knew she didn't like hearing it, but even if he hadn't her deep inhale let him know that she wasn't thrilled. Her whole stomach caved in for a full ten seconds before she furiously released smoke into the air.

“It's not going to feel like home when I go back. I know that. It's not my home if my Dad isn't in the house, if he's in some downtown condo.” Luke realized as she spat out the truth that made her bones aches that he wasn't going to be going back to the same Sydney. Penelope wouldn't be there. Connor, Molly, and Emmeline were also out facing the world by themselves. Michael was building a new life, or trying to, that Luke didn't do anything about and March was apparently just a shell of himself.

“It'll be different, but - “ Luke was trying to figure out how to support her, what he would want to say to his kids if he was in Mike's situation. He squirmed in her recliner and wished he had taken her up on her offer for a cigarette of his own.

“I feel really disconnected from them. They're in a different time zone changing everything I knew and I'm out here building something they're not a part of. “ She expressed herself bluntly, but very well and while Luke had spent a good part of their visit worrying about Emmeline, he could hear the strong girl with a deep sense of self still breathing inside of her. It settled his nerves slightly as he crossed his knees.

“It might help if you called them.” Luke suggested off the cuff. “It might make you feel more connected.”

He watched Emmeline contemplate his idea while she finished her cigarette. It was strange how quickly he grew accustom to her smoking. He didn't think that her parents would be nearly as impressed by how effortlessly she could blow perfect smoke rings.

“It just really hurts.” Her voice went hoarse for a moment as she admitted her feelings to her Uncle Luke. Emmeline had a lot of pride. She didn't like to admit that sometimes she struggled with things. She liked to be the rock in the group.

Luke nodded in agreement. He might not have been a child of divorce in any capacity, but he could sympathize with pain and reluctantly moving through change. He remembered being her age and feeling like he couldn't control anything. It was harder than raising children, but he wasn't about to tell her that.

“It's three in the morning.” He looked at the time on his phone as it lit up on top of her black coffee table from an email reminder. “We should both be sleeping.”

“Yes.” Emmeline yawned and supposed he was right. She knew she should really go to her spin class. It wasn't as if she was sitting comfortable, knowing that she ate more than she intended to. Putting out her cigarette in the same tea cup as earlier, she stood up and stretched her arms up high, her crop top exposing all of her stomach. “Goodnight, Uncle Luke.” Emmeline walked around the coffee table to him, reaching down and hugging him where he sat. “I had a lot of fun with you.” She said as he hugged her back. Emmeline crossed her arms in front of her and started to walk towards her bedroom, looking forward to cuddling with her cat and drifting off to sleep.

“I have an early flight tomorrow.” From the chair, he spoke to her back. “I might be gone before you wake up.” Luke knew he would be, but he intended to be very quiet as to not wake her.

“Okay.” Emme stopped and turned to look at him. “Can we keep in touch?”

Softly, Luke laughed out of reflex. It seemed like such a silly question to him, but he could tell that Emmeline wasn't trying to be cute or funny. She might not have said it with her words, but her face expressed that, sometimes, she was lonely. Right now, she didn't feel like she could reach out to her parents who she had always felt close to before.

“Of course, Emme. You can call me whenever. I'd really like that.” He nodded with emphasis, making sure she understood that he was being honest. If she talked to him regularly then Luke felt like he could keep an eye on her for Michael and for himself. He felt like if he paid very close attention, he could keep her from hurting her body. She might not have been one of his three children, but he still loved Emmeline dearly.

“Goodnight.” She said again and tip toed into her bedroom, closing the door tightly behind her.

******************

Michael wasn't used to being as alone as he was in his new place downtown. Iden had stayed over a collection of four times, but he wasn't exactly a loud kid. He kept to himself for the most part unless they were playing a video game together. Michael was contemplating adopting a kitten. He thought looking after something small and all his own might distract him from texts that his divorce lawyer and Grace's sent him or from trying to contact Emmeline over and over. She still hadn't changed her voice mail from, 'Hi, It's Emmy, leave a message unless you're Grace or Michael Clifford. You two are the worst.', and he had become strict about checking it twice a day to see if she had.

He scrolled through his phone mindlessly at his kitchen table, distracting himself from his new solo routine, and read through the news. It was mostly depressing with the exception of a new pizzeria opening up in a nearby neighborhood. His Google alerts notified him that 'Emmeline Clifford' had five new stories attached to it. He held his bite of jam toast in his mouth and hurried to open up a new tab. Since Emmeline wouldn't keep in touch with him in any capacity, he had taken to following her through paparazzi photos of her and her friend Edwin Styles hanging out as well as any news stories about the modelling industry. So far, he had learned little about her career and a lot about where she liked to shop with Edwin carrying her bags.

Mike smiled at the small photo of her and Luke entering a restaurant together, Luke holding open the door. He read every word of the article, absorbing information about his daughter's life like a sponge. The page kept using the word 'happy' and 'smiling' to describe Luke and Emmeline. The first two times it calmed Michael's growing nerves and made him feel thankful to Luke, but after the third time, he grumbled. He was jealous. His finger stabbed at the play button that put on and video of Luke and Emmeline singing karaoke, dancing like good friends, dancing like Michael used to with her while they cleaned up their huge kitchen after having people over. Grace had made the kids do that from the time they were small in order to make cleaning more fun and less like a chore. Michael darkened his phone screen and slid it across the table before viciously taking a bite of his toast. His chest was puffed out and he was seething. He felt replaced and hurt, but the worst part was he couldn't even tell Emmeline that. She wouldn't let him. He carried his piece of toast out of the kitchen, eating while heading to his balcony to watch the pouring rain. As he went, he past a picture of Emmeline that sat on top of the shelf above his hanging television. She was three and sleeping under his arm while he was passed out in a hotel bed. Grace had taken it and it had become his favourite quickly. Emme had never  been a great sleeper, but Michael could always lull her to rest with his voice and countless kisses on top of her soft head. It hurt to see the photo now and he wondered if she was ever going to let him back in.