Love or Lust

Over the course of the next two hours, Hazel got comfortable on the old rust coloured couch watching as the members of The Maine practiced and interacted with each other while trying to get their music to sound right.

“Let’s try the new song we’ve been working on” John announced, running his hands through his hair.

“It needs a little fine tuning”.

“You’re going to love this one Hazel” Kennedy told her, a pick in his mouth and another situated between his thumb and pointer finger as he gently strummed along the strings of his guitar.
Pat began with the drums, the start of the intro began with the guitar players and Garrett with his bass joined in. John gripped the microphone, licking his lips and running hand through his hair again, a habit he tended to perform quite a lot.

“I’ve been changing” John’s sultry voice sang soothingly along with the song “You’re still waiting on me, just wait for me”.

Hazel sat there in complete awe. Without the screaming girls and background noise reverb back at the party, his voice was absolutely captivating. Getting over his complete arrogance for a second, John’s voice was that beautiful.

“And that’s practice done for the day!” Jared announced, slinging his guitar over his shoulder, the others all quickly doing the same.

“Let’s go order some pizza and watch a movie” Garrett said. Everyone seemed to agree with this idea and all raced upstairs to order the pizza, making sure the right ones were purchased. Hazel followed the chorus of loud boys, but stopped midway up the stairs. John was sitting on the couch, one hand cupping his head, resting on his knee, while he hunched over what appeared to be a small notebook.
“You coming O’Callaghan?”

“No” he said without even turning to look at Hazel “I have some writing I need to do”

Shrugging her shoulders, she walked up the remainder of the stairs, the sound of arguments guiding her to the others as they all fought over which toppings to get.



With faces stuffed full of pizza, the crusts left to go stale in the cardboard boxes, the group of boys and Hazel lounged around the now muddled living room that Pat’s mother slaved to keep perfect despite having four boys.

Having already watched the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie, and now onto the second, Hazel grew bored and slightly restless. Her mind wondering to the tall boy still down in the basement, only coming up for a few slices of their meal. Letting her curiosity get the better of her, wanting to know what he was doing, Hazel left the others and tried to make a stealth entrance into the room below. That was until the seventh step creaked.

“If you were trying to be quiet, your attempt was not achieved” John spoke, his eyes meeting hers watching her carefully. With a huff, she took the remaining stairs two at a time and placed herself next to John on the couch.

“I’m curious that’s all”

“About what exactly?”

“This” she said, pointing to the open notebook in between them. Writing was scribbled all over the pages, between the lines, the margin, everywhere.

“That” he began, grabbing it and closing its tattered and coffee stained pages. “Is not for your eyes, and everybody else’s for that matter”.

“Is it the secret diary of John O’Callaghan?” Hazel smirked “I bet girls would kill to get that, to know the deepest, darkest thoughts of yours”

“Keep dreaming”.

Smirking, Hazel quickly reached across John and snatched the book from his hands, jumping off of the couch before he could react to the situation. Opening it up to a random page, Hazel began to scan the words.

“You’ve got your daddy’s wallet and your mothers eyes –” was all Hazel could get out before the slender arms of John wrapped around her, recapturing the book from her.

In a one swift movement, John had spun Hazel around, backed right up against the wall with both of his arms trapping her, pinning her in place. Hazel’s heart was racing, her breathing becoming uneven with each second as she stared into John’s eyes. No words were said, the contact between their eyes, skin, said it all. It was like a scene straight out of a movie. The hero of the story passionately traps his lover against the wall, bed, you name it, before they embrace each other in a romantic kiss. But this was no fairytale or cliché Hollywood movie filled with love. This had the other four lettered word written all over it.

Lust.

It is often mistaken for what people perceive to love. They so desperately want the physical connection to the love, but it never is.

“Do you want to kiss me?” she spoke, somewhat seductively. Hazel could feel John’s hot breath rushing over her skin, the proximity of their position sending chills down her spine.
“I think you already know that answer to that”.

He carefully put a finger under Hazel’s chin, and lifted her face towards his, never breaking contact with her eyes. It was as if he was searching for any kind of emotion in their swirling baby blue shade. Letting one arm fall, he placed in gently at her waist, pulling her even closer to his body. As he leant down, their lips almost touching, ready to meet, a loud cough sounded from behind them, breaking them apart before things could escalate any further.

“Garrett” Hazel said breathlessly. They hadn’t even so much as kissed and John O’Callaghan had already taken her breath away.

John stood beside Hazel, a rather smug look on his face as he leant against the wall, his arms crossed lazily across his chest. Garrett’s expression however was not anywhere close to his. It was almost unreadable. The childhood best friend versus the, well John really didn’t have a title in Hazel’s life as yet, they were merely acquaintances, but even that definition was wrong.

“I just came down to see if you were ready to go” He said, eyeing John still, “But from the looks of things you are otherwise preoccupied”.

Before Hazel could reply, John grabbed her by the wrist and leant down. “I am the sin crawling under your skin” he whispered. With a toothy grin, he passed Garrett and proceeded to walk up the creaking stairs, leaving his words to sink in.

“So, care to explain that?” Garrett asked rather rudely

“Don’t” Hazel sighed, rubbing her temples. “Just don’t”

Just when Hazel thought she knew just who John O’Callaghan truly was, he does something like this.

I am the sin crawling under your skin

His words haunting her on the drive home and as she lay in bed for hours that night, staring at the ceiling trying to grasp the meaning. John was trying to figure out Hazel, but perhaps it was him who was the mystery.