Chapter Text
“You alright, mija?”
Julie blinks a few times at the sound of her father’s voice, realizing she’s been lost in thought long enough that they’re no longer outside the arena. They’re inside, they’re nearly to the registration tables, and it makes her stomach roll.
“Just nervous,” she answers softly, trying to keep her voice even. “And, y’know. Missing Mom.”
Her father’s arm wraps around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug. “Julie, honey, if you’re not ready - if you’ve changed your mind, or…”
“No,” Julie cuts in, forcing herself to take another step toward the tables. “No, I’m - I can do this. I can do it.”
The woman sitting at the table smiles up at Julie, hand poised over the registration forms. “Hi, there! What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Julie Molina,” she replies, swallowing back the nerves and forcing herself to press into them the way her mother taught her.
The woman nods, writing Julie’s name at the top of the form. “Alright, honey. Just fill these out and hand them to the next table. From there, it’s a few small, rapidfire auditions, and if you make it through those, you get to come in for callbacks. Good luck and welcome to The Voice! ”
Julie takes the clipboard and smiles, nodding and stepping off to the side with her dad. His eyes crinkle at the corners as he grins down at her - the joy on his features helps to settle her stomach for a moment. “Okay. We’re doing this,” Julie says.
Ray’s smile widens as he shakes his head. “You’re doing this, mija. And you’re going to be incredible no matter what.”
As Julie starts filling out the forms, she feels nausea rise in the back of her throat. It disappears when she hears a soft whisper of I’m here, Julie. Always.
Her mom’s here. Just like she promised she’d be.
She finishes filling in the forms and turns them in before she can change her mind.
//
“This is so stupid,” Luke mutters, turning around to face Alex, Willie, and Reggie. “This is so ridiculously stupid. Why am I here, boys? Honestly.”
“Because,” Alex sighs, squeezing his hands over Luke’s shoulders in a well-practiced maneuver. “Our band is getting zero traction, you have a chip on your shoulder about whether or not you’re good enough because your parents lack musical taste, and you’re conventionally attractive enough to get on this show and at the very least, get us some recognition during your televised audition.”
Reggie nods next to them. “Exactly. All about the exposure, bro.”
“Don’t say exposure,” Alex and Luke say together.
“The clout?” Reggie suggests.
Willie laughs from where he’s standing next to Alex. “Oh, that’s worse. Don’t say that, either.”
“Look, we aren’t getting anywhere with the band right now,” Reggie continues, elbowing Willie in the ribs. “It’s a good time for us to take a break, experience working with other people, broaden our horizons, all that shit.”
Luke doesn’t even try to keep the guilt out of his voice when he asks, for the several thousandth time, “And you’re cool with me auditioning as a - a solo thing?”
“Man, yes,” Alex replies, rolling his eyes. “We have told you and told you. Out of the three of us, you’ve got the most network-tv friendly voice and, y’know. Girls and guys think you’re hot for some reason. All of that’s gonna help our band get a following for when you come back. Because, obviously, you won’t win.”
“He’s an attractive white boy with a guitar, Alex,” Willie points out. “There’s a very high chance he’ll win.”
“I’m attractive, too,” Reggie huffs.
Sighing, Alex says, “Yes, Reginald, you’re very pretty. But we’re boosting Luke’s ego right now.”
Looking around at the crowd, Luke sighs, “There’s a lot of people here. Way more than I figured there’d be.”
“Everybody wants superstardom,” Reggie says, smiling when he hears Luke’s noise of disgust. “Which, yeah, you just want the music. We get it, dude. But it can’t hurt to just try. Plus, if you make it, your parents might see you on television and you can stick your talent right in their faces.”
Luke laughs softly, shaking his head. “Dude, I’m over that.”
Alex and Reggie share a look. Willie’s the one that speaks up and says, “Liar.”
“Okay, but the main reason we’ve asked you to…” Alex says.
Luke cuts in, “Forced me to.”
“...try this,” Alex continues, completely ignoring Luke, “is that we have bills to pay and Willie and I want to be able to afford a wedding one day, so. Let’s try to make some bank off that handsome face and smooth voice of yours so that Reggie and I don’t have to work in retail forever.”
Luke rolls his eyes with a grin, finally lifting his guitar bag and pulling it over his shoulder. “Alright, okay. I’ll do it. You owe me so big for this.”
Alex and Reggie completely ignore him in favor of acting like proud parents taking prom pictures.
“Luke, honey, pretend you’re playing your guitar! Oh, that’s adorable,” Alex sighs. “We’ll have to get these printed in wallet sizes. Everyone will need one.”
Luke turns and walks away from them, laughing despite the way his free hand is raised in a middle finger salute.
//
The waiting, Julie thinks, is the worst part.
She can hear people all around her warming up, practicing - showing off, honestly - but her voice is trapped in her throat. Her dad’s still next to her, and she’s grateful, but she can tell he’s waiting for her to start singing, too.
“Stop watching me, papi,” Julie mumbles.
Ray clears his throat, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I could take a walk, if you want. Give you some space for a little bit?”
Julie hears the clear whistle of a soprano carrying across the room and it has her standing from her seat. “Actually, I think I’ll do the walking. Maybe that’ll help.”
Ray nods, smiling up at her. “Okay, honey. I’ll be here. Take as much time as you need.”
She leans down and hugs him, squeezing his shoulders tightly. “Thanks, Dad.”
It isn’t until she’s a few steps away from him that she lets the tears in her eyes spill over onto her cheeks. She pulls her phone from her pocket and dials Flynn’s number, letting out a relieved sigh when Flynn picks up before the second ring.
“I knew I should have come with you today,” Flynn says. “What’s up? What can I do?”
Julie swallows. “Just - tell me I can do this.”
Flynn doesn’t even hesitate. “You were made to share music with the world, Julie. You can do this. Take a breath, drink some water, and knock everyone there on their asses with that voice you’ve got.”
Laughing, Julie replies, “Thank you. I love you.”
“Love you, superstar. I’m coming with you for callbacks when you make them. No arguments.”
//
The main holding room is entirely too loud for Luke to handle, so he finds a quiet stairwell and sits against the wall, humming quietly with his guitar in his lap. His eyes are closed when he hears the door open and the sound of footsteps followed by a soft, “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know someone was in here.”
Luke opens his eyes, immediately standing when he sees the tear tracks on the girl’s cheeks. “Hey, no. It’s cool. Just - kinda loud in there. Are you, uh. You okay? Bad audition or something?”
The girl shakes her head, wiping her cheeks dry. “No. No, I haven’t gone yet. I’m just, uh. A little overwhelmed. Trying to convince myself I’m ready for this.”
Luke smirks a bit. “Ready for what, singing for a reality show?”
“Ready to sing, period,” she admits. “It’s been tough since I lost my mom.”
Luke finds himself taking a step closer to her, ducking his head down a bit to meet her eyes. “Shit. Sorry. I’m sorry to hear about your mom. That’s gotta be hard.”
“Yeah,” she nods, sniffling and crossing her arms over her chest. “Music was always our thing, so I’m - I don’t know. Trying to learn how to do it without her.”
Luke feels the sting of her words somewhere deep beneath his ribcage. He opens his mouth to speak again, but she beats him to it with a sheepish little smile and a quick shake of her head.
“I, uh. Sorry. I just wanted somewhere quiet to get my thoughts together. Guess you had the same idea?”
“Yeah,” he replies softly. “I’m Luke, by the way.”
“Julie.”
Luke adjusts his guitar over his shoulders, absently plucking a rhythm from the strings. “So, what’s your song?”
“My song?” she asks, eyes lifting from his hands to meet his gaze.
“Yeah,” he grins. “Your audition song.”
The left side of her mouth tilts up in a smile and Luke feels the warmth of victory pulse through him.
“They said to have options, so. One of them is Heather.”
Luke nods, pulling his capo from his pocket and fitting it over the fifth fret. “Original key?”
When she doesn’t answer, he glances up and realizes she’s leveling him with an unimpressed stare. It’s scarier than it should be, considering he’s only known her two minutes.
He tries to pretend he doesn’t enjoy the thrill.
“What?”
She shrugs. “You just happen to know the song, the key it’s in, and you’re oh so casually getting ready to play it. It’s just very - douchey LA musician.”
Smirking, Luke puts his pick between his teeth as he pushes the sleeves of his jacket up over his forearms. “Sorry,” he shrugs, taking his pick and dragging it slowly over the strings of his guitar again. “I am an LA musician.”
Her grin returns. Barely, but it’s there. He thinks it counts.
“I said douchey LA musician.”
“Mm, I heard,” he nods, laughing. “Sing the first couple bars, yeah? Kick those nerves in the ass.”
Julie swallows, her eyes falling to the floor. On instinct, Luke steps forward again, lets the chord hang in the air, and offers her a grin when she meets his eyes.
“C’mon, Julie,” he breathes.
His eyes fall to her lips when she inhales, and then -
“Julie? Are you…? There you are.”
The door to the stairwell opens and Luke takes a step back, the spell between them broken.
“Your group is next, honey,” the man says, squeezing Julie’s shoulder. Luke knows right away this man is her father. The pride in his eyes gives him away. “You ready?”
Julie nods, her jaw locking as she looks back to Luke. “Thanks,” she offers.
“Uh, yeah,” Luke replies, tapping the heel of his hand against the lower bout of his guitar. “Good luck.”
She rushes out the door with her dad, and Luke’s left in silence again. He goes back to playing the song with his eyes closed, humming the melody under his breath.
When he reaches the chorus, he can hear the harmony as clearly in his mind as his own voice. He thinks it sounds like her.
(He realizes seconds later she never actually sang for him. Wonders why he’s so sure he knows the sound of her voice already.)
//
Julie breezes through the initial auditions, her anxiety lessening and her confidence growing with each yes she receives. When she’s given the final approval and a time slot for the televised callbacks weeks from now, the excitement on her dad’s face is worth every moment of uncertainty.
She spends the drive home making phone calls to every distant relative that Ray can find in his contact list.
“Papa, we haven’t talked to them in two years, do I…”
“Everyone deserves to hear about your accomplishments, mija. Call them! I’ll do the talking.”
“You mean you’ll do the bragging.”
“Same thing.”
It isn’t until she’s home that she wonders if the guy from the stairwell made it through to the callbacks, too. She hears his soft ‘c’mon, Julie’ in the back of her mind again, like the faintest whisper of a voice she swears she’s known her whole life, and pretends it doesn’t make her heart skip.
“He was too cocky,” she mutters aloud to herself. “Probably didn’t make it past the first round.”
And yet, when she calls Flynn that night to fill her in on the day, she finds herself saying, “So I went to clear my head and met this guy in the stairwell. He was trying to help me sing before my dad interrupted us.”
“Interrupted? What exactly were you two doing, Jules?”
“What? Nothing! He started playing Heather and I was going to sing, but that’s when my dad found us. Found me. Nothing happened.”
“Uh-huh. He was cute, wasn’t he?”
“It’s LA. Everyone’s cute.”
“Could he sing?”
“I don’t know,” Julie answers. “Probably not.”
“Still gonna root for you two, anyway.”
Julie sighs. “You’re so weird.”
“You love me.”
//
When Luke gets home that evening, the boys are waiting for him in the living room with a half-assed handwritten poster held up between them.
congrats, loser. we told you so.
“Hate you guys,” Luke laughs, shoving Reggie into the other two. “Still gotta get through the actual auditions. They won’t be able to see my face for those.”
“So you’re saying you got through today because of your face and not your voice?” Alex asks, eyebrows raised.
Luke shrugs, digging through the pile of laundry near the hallway for a clean shirt. “It’s a reality tv show, man. I think it helps.”
“Of course it helps,” Willie snorts. “That’s why you’re a bartender, dude. You don’t make a fortune in tips because of how you pour a beer.”
“Well,” Alex says, nudging Willie’s shoulder with his. “His arms are on display when he’s doing that.”
“You’re right,” Willie nods, looking back over to Luke again. “It probably is because of how you pour a beer.”
Reggie grabs his Target nametag from the coffee table and pins it to his red polo, pulling Luke into a quick hug. “Proud of you, dude. And hey, maybe you’ll go solo after this and we’ll get to have one of those documentaries made about us and how you betrayed us!”
“Not a chance,” Luke answers immediately, shoving Reggie lightly in the chest. “You know it’s me and you guys 'til the end.”
“And then some,” Alex replies, squeezing Luke’s shoulder. “We know. Go to work. Your peasant job awaits you.”
Reggie grabs the keys to the car all four of them share and makes a grand gesture of bowing for Luke as they head out the door together. “Your chariot awaits, rockstar.”
Luke rolls his eyes. He can hear Alex and Willie laughing behind them. “Like you aren’t one, too, Peters. Let’s go.”
five months later
When Julie shows up for the main auditions, it’s with her dad, her brother, and Flynn in tow. The atmosphere is different this time, she notices - there’s still an energy in the air that has Julie’s knee bouncing as she waits, but the noise level has lessened considerably.
Or maybe time’s allowed her fractured heart to heal more than she realized.
Julie catches her dad watching her again and laughs. “What?”
He shrugs. “I just - I can tell you’re ready. Really ready. You seem more comfortable than last time.”
“Of course she is,” Flynn teases, throwing her arm around Julie’s shoulders. “I’m here this time, Mr. Molina.”
Julie leans into Flynn’s side, laughing as Carlos joins in on the teasing and her dad tries to defend himself. She lets her head rest on Flynn’s shoulder and closes her eyes, smiling as she listens to Flynn explain why her presence is so valuable.
And then she hears his voice again.
“C’mon, boys.”
Julie’s eyes open and she sits up, squinting as she searches the room. When she sees him again, he’s wearing the same damn jacket and there’s a guitar pick in his teeth, but he’s no longer alone. She watches him talk with the three guys surrounding him, trying to figure out what they’re saying, and yelps when she feels Flynn’s elbow in her side.
“Ow! What?”
Flynn rolls her eyes. “You’re staring.”
“I am not.”
“You literally didn’t even look at me when you said that. You’re still staring.”
Julie rolls her eyes this time, turning to face Flynn. “It’s Luke.”
“Who?”
“Stairwell guy.”
Flynn’s eyes widen and she grins, craning her neck to try and see the boys herself. “Now I get it. Ooh, the one in the jacket? He’s cute, Jules.”
Julie wrinkles her nose. “He’s okay.”
“Who’s cute?” Carlos asks.
“You, hermanito,” Julie replies easily, pinching Carlos’ nose.
He bats his hands at her. “I’m taller than you now. Quit it.”
//
Somehow, whether by dumb luck or the work of the universe at large —
(Luke says universe, Alex and Willie say dumb luck, Reggie says both)
— Luke is in the audience when Julie Molina auditions.
He recognizes her immediately despite the distance between his seat and the stage. As she makes her way to the center of the platform, he sits straighter in his seat, eager to see if her voice matches the tone he’d heard so clearly in his mind months ago.
(He still hears it sometimes.)
The overhead lights dim and he tilts his head, waiting for the sound of an acoustic guitar to fill the room.
But she takes a seat behind a keyboard instead, adjusting the microphone before she begins to play. Somber chords fill the space around them, the lights coming up behind her to illuminate the stage. She leans forward and breathes in, her eyes closed, and begins to sing.
These four lonely walls have changed the way I feel
The way I feel
I’m standing still
And nothin’ else matters now
You’re not here
So where are you?
I’ve been callin’ you
I’m missin’ you
Distantly, Luke hears Willie whisper that it’s a Beyoncé song. He doesn’t recognize it, but knows it wouldn’t matter if he did, anyway.
He’s never heard a voice like hers before. The resonance in her chest voice, the strength in her mix. The rasp as she continues up into the prechorus, the ache as she loses herself in the lyrics.
Each time a chair turns, the crowd cheers. Luke panics for a moment that he’ll lose the sound of her voice in the noise, but the clarity of her tone pierces through the uproar easily.
Memories turn to dust
Please don’t bury us
I’ve got you, I’ve got you
It isn’t until Caleb Covington turns his chair toward the end of her performance that Luke realizes he hasn’t breathed since she started singing. He forces himself to inhale, exhaling slowly as she sings the last run of the chorus. There’s an electric guitar accompanying her now, a delicate harmony that perfectly compliments the full strength of her voice, and Luke’s fingers itch with the desire to play the riff himself.
Her voice soars over the keys, over the guitar, over the room. It’s absolutely nothing like the voice he’d imagined for her in his head.
(There’s no way he could’ve created something so captivating by himself.)
Ain’t runnin’ from myself no more
I’m ready to face it all
If I lose myself, I lose it all
Julie lets the final chord hang in the air, her hands curved over the keys, and then the crowd erupts in applause. The smile she gives in response is more humble than it has any right to be for the amount of talent she possesses.
Luke jumps to his feet, glancing over to Alex next to him as he claps. “Wow,” he breathes.
Alex just nods, grinning. “Yeah.”
//
When Julie heads offstage, Carlos is the first to wrap her in a hug. She laughs as he lifts her off the ground, feeling lightheaded after the rush of performing again.
“That was beautiful,” Flynn says, pulling her into a hug when Carlos sets her down again. “Seriously, Jules. Perfect. You deserved every one of those chairs.”
Ray nods, his eyes wet and his voice thick when he agrees, “Absolutely. You sounded so incredible, Julie. Just like…”
His voice gives out, so he offers her a sad smile instead. Julie nods, her vision blurring as she rasps, “Yeah. I heard her with me, Dad. She was there.”
“I know she was,” Ray rasps, smiling. “I felt her.”
Flynn huffs, putting one hand on Julie’s shoulder and the other on Ray’s. “You two have to stop this. I don’t want to start crying again. ”
“Dude, you’re on Caleb’s team. He’s always the pickiest judge,” Carlos says, giddy with pride. “And you’re on his team. That’s so cool!”
Julie lets out a laugh, holding Carlos’ arm by the elbow as they head back to the holding rooms. “I don’t think it’s hit me yet. None of this feels real.”
“Oh, it’s real, sweetheart,” Flynn assures her. “You did that. And it was amazing.”
Ray hums. “Yes, it was.”
“Thanks, papa,” Julie replies, laughing when he pulls her into his side as they walk. “Promise me you won’t be on the phone the entire drive home, yeah?”
“I won’t be,” Ray assures her. “Because your brother will be in the car! I’ll make him hold the phone.”
Flynn claps her hands together, shooting Ray a thumbs up. “Perfect. She can’t tell you to stop bragging about her when she’s not in the car.”
“Exactly.”
Laughing, Julie sighs, “I regret telling you Flynn and I are going to stay for the rest of the auditions today. You totally planned this.”
Carlos lets out an affronted gasp. “You think Dad and I planned a very specific itinerary for the drive home, sorted by alphabet of who we call first, to tell them how amazing you are? How dare you.”
“Hurry, Carlos,” Ray says, speaking in a stage whisper. “If we run fast, she can’t catch us in those heels. Call the first number!”
Carlos pulls out his phone and immediately starts dialing, taking off at a run with Ray down the hallway. Julie’s so focused on yelling at them both that when she rounds the corner with Flynn, she ends up running facefirst into a light pink hoodie.
“Oh, gosh! Sorry!” Pink Hoodie offers, his hands steadying her arms. “It’s my friend’s fault, he - oh, wait, hey, you’re Julie! We just saw your audition! Your voice is incredible.”
Julie smiles, laughing softly. “Thank you. That’s…”
She trails off when she realizes one of the guys in the group is Luke. He’s already watching her, the smile on his lips an exact replica of the grin she hasn’t been able to forget.
C’mon, Julie.
“Hey,” he greets, waving a little before shoving both hands into the pockets of his jacket. “You changed your song.”
Julie squints a little, smiling. “I didn’t change it. I told you I had options.”
“You picked the right one. Hell of a voice, Molina.”
“Thanks,” Julie offers. “Um. What about you? Have you auditioned yet?”
Luke shakes his head. “Nah, I go this afternoon. We just came early to catch some of the performances. Really glad we caught yours.”
Nodding, Julie crosses her arms. She tries to ignore the warmth in her chest from his praise, but figures the pleased grin on her lips completely gives her away.
Judging by the way Flynn clears her throat, it absolutely does. “You ready, Jules?”
“Uh, yeah. Anyway. We were just heading to the auditorium to see some of the auditions,” Julie says, waving. “Good luck.”
Julie goes to step around the guys, but Luke takes a step forward, the grin on his lips decidedly cockier now. “So you’re gonna get to see me perform, too?”
“Mm, I might watch yours,” Julie shrugs. “We’ll have to see if I can stomach an entire performance from a douchey LA musician.”
Pink Hoodie grins, pointing at Julie and looking at Luke. “Oh, I like her.”
“Me, too,” Luke replies, his eyes still on Julie.
“Subtle,” Leather Jacket mutters.
Surfer Guy immediately mutters back, “As a gunshot.”
Julie watches their interactions and laughs softly, taking Flynn’s hand in hers. “We’d better go and grab seats before the next audition starts. Good luck, Luke.”
When they’re a safe distance away, Julie comments, “See? Cocky.”
“Oh, totally,” Flynn replies, squeezing her hand. “But he’s cute and he’s got heart eyes for you after knowing you a grand total of five minutes. I’m still rooting for you two.”
Julie snorts. “You’re so weird.”
//
“Dude, by the way? You have got to stop flirting in front of the rest of us,” Alex pleads that afternoon, clapping a hand over the back of Luke’s shoulder as they wait with him on the side of the stage. “It’s horrific to watch.”
“Like a car crash where you can’t look away,” Willie agrees.
Alex sighs happily, taking his hand off Luke’s shoulder and tangling it with Willie’s hand instead. “You get me.”
Luke opens his mouth to argue, but stops when he sees the look on Reggie’s face. Rolling his eyes, he mutters, “I can’t help it! She’s cute.”
“Oh, she’s a star,” Reggie agrees. “And way outta your league.”
Again, Luke goes to argue, but gets the same look from all three of the guys. After a moment, he nods and breathes out a sigh. “Yeah, alright. Fine. But you guys are the worst hype squad ever.”
“We made you a poster, you ungrateful runt,” Alex says.
Luke laughs, shaking his head. “You wrote ‘go, luke, go’ on a piece of notebook paper.”
“That counts!” Reggie insists. “I did bubble letters for it and everything.”
Luke’s still laughing, but even he can hear the uneven cadence of it. His fingers drum lightly against the strap of the guitar over his chest, and he raises a brow at the knowing smile Alex is giving him.
“What?”
“Dude, you’re nervous.”
“I - I don’t wanna let you guys down,” Luke admits, swallowing. “This isn’t for me, y’know? It’s for you guys. And…”
Reggie stops him with a hand on his chest. “Buddy. Shut up. You’re gonna kick ass and we’re gonna be here cheering you on. With our handmade poster.”
“I’ll wipe away their proud parent tears when you perform,” Willie assures him. “I promise.”
Luke laughs again, the rhythm smoother this time. “Thanks, man. There’s gonna be a lot of them. They’re disgustingly sappy.”
“You’re grounded,” Alex says, pointing at him.
“Luke, we’re ready,” the stagehand says, directing him with a wave toward the stage. “Good luck.”
With a grin, Luke pulls his electric guitar in front of him and takes a couple small steps backwards toward the stage entrance. “See you boys after.”
He turns and walks through the doors toward the stage, laughing when he hears Alex’s yell of, “Kill it, Patts.”
//
Julie and Flynn sit through twelve auditions before Luke takes the stage.
She hates herself for it, and she’ll never admit it to anyone —
she’ll tell Flynn later
— but she recognizes Luke by the way he’s holding his guitar.
He makes his way to the center of the platform, an electric guitar held easily against his chest. Julie knows it’s him by the pace of his steps, the way his hands are curled over the neck and the body of the instrument like it’s simply a part of him. She remembers the easy way his fingers curled over the frets of his acoustic in the stairwell before. Remembers the sound of the chord hanging between them, beautifully dissonant against the warmth of his voice.
Judging by the electric in his hands and the muscle tee he’s wearing, this isn’t going to be anything like the stairwell.
And when the lights come up and Luke immediately launches into the opening guitar lick, it isn’t an audition. Julie’s seen several of those so far.
This is a concert.
If me and you are livin’ in the same place
Why do we feel alone?
Feel alone?
A house that’s full of everything we wanted
But it’s an empty home
Empty home
“5SOS?” she hears Flynn ask next to her, and Julie just nods.
She can’t look away from the stage. Luke’s eyes close as he breezes through the next part of the verse, that ever-present smirk on his lips when he opens his eyes again at the first sound of the crowd cheering for a turning chair. His left leg kicks up as he bounces back from the microphone and then towards it again, only glancing down at the frets of his guitar for a moment before he picks out the broken chords for the chorus easily.
And all the things that we dream about
They don’t mean what they did before
I just wanna get back to us
Cause we used to have more
Douchey LA musician or not, he’s made for this.
His entire body vibrates with it - the thrum of the beat as the drums kick back in, the energy of the crowd as yet another chair turns. He can’t stop smiling as he sings, joy radiating off of him in waves as his voice breaks perfectly over the last phrase of the chorus.
Why does it feel like we’re missin’ out?
Like I’m standin’ behind the door
I just wanna get back to us
Cause we used to have more
By the time he makes it to the outro of the song, he’s completely abandoned the microphone in favor of jamming along with the house band in the back. When they reach the end, he lets out a shout and bounces on his toes for a moment, grinning so widely it has to hurt.
Julie realizes she’s grinning, too.
“Caleb turned,” Flynn points out, nudging her arm with an elbow. “You guys might be on the same team.”
“He’s too much of a rocker,” Julie replies, shaking her head. “He won’t pick Caleb.”
He picks Caleb.