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Riley had been a limousine driver for rock star Trevor Wilson and his family for almost a decade. He's witnessed him at his lowest, when he and his wife screamed at each other so loud that all of Malibu could make out the argument. When the paparazzi swarmed the car consistently at red carpet events.
Driving home the other members of Dirty Candy and chauffeuring Carrie to dance practice.
This particular night was no different aside from the silence. Riley peered into the rear view mirror and caught the rock star's pale expression, frozen with fear and a pain behind his eyes. Mourning.
Carrie's was more of a surprise. She had her elbow on the cup holder and rested her fist on her chin. Her face was...contemplative and oddly serene. Bittersweet daydreams dancing in her eyes.
The limousine driver knew better than to ask. So he decided not to.
___
Trevor bid his daughter a quick goodnight and ran straight into his room, locked the door and bolted to the bathroom.
He almost broke the faucet turning it on so rapidly and splashed ice cold water onto his face. He lifted his head up to look at himself in the mirror, the man he had become.
Hello Bobby.
He inhaled sharply and for good measure washed his face thoroughly, droplets still trickling down his cheeks. A name he swore he'd forget, a name he swore was streaked into the condensation of the mirror not only days ago but even now.
Now, a girl goes up on stage and not one, not two but all three reappear to everyone as if they hadn't died twenty five years ago.
He looked up again, only this time he didn't see himself staring back. All he saw was a dark haired boy with rosy cheeks.
Reggie's still in a usual black leather jacket and a red flannel tied around his waist. He was leaning in front of the mirror, paler than usual and tired circles runs underneath his green eyes.
"You didn't even say goodbye."
The lifelessness in his eyes catches him off guard and Trevor slouches back down to the sink, rubbing his face with water faster.
He looks up only to find a boy with blonde hair that swoops down to his forehead. There's a gold chain around his neck over his pink shirt. The boy's terrified staring back at Trevor's reflection.
"Why didn't you save us?"
His throat is dry and Trevor just notices how feeble Alex in the mirror seems. Like death had warmed up. His voice cracks like he's on the verge of tears and it's so soft it's practically a whisper.
Trevor yanks a hand towel off the silver rim nailed to the wall and dries his face with it. He was only seeing things. It wasn't really them.
Still.
Trevor finally looked up and his face crumpled at the corpselike image of the boy in the glass. Sweaty brown bangs clung to his pallid forehead and his eyes are narrowed, glaring fiercely.
You never wanted to get on Luke Patterson's bad side, in life or death.
"This is your doing."
Trevor's heart pounds in his ears and he storms out of the bathroom, towards his bed. It wasn't ghosts haunting him, only his wrongdoings. Karma. Retaliation. Stealing what he thought was rightfully his without mentioning those he had lost.
The band was always the only ones that could see right through him.
For the first time in a long time, his mind wandered to that night and the days after. Red blue lights illuminating Sunset Boulevard.
Reggie's fluttering eyelids, Bobby afraid that they would never open again and the bassist gripping tight on the EMT's hand, not wanting to go.
The repetitive reassurances to Luke and Reggie from Alex that they would be alright though it didn't quite reach his eyes.
Luke wishing for his mother, quietly begging at the sky to make the pain stop.
He must've stood there for a solid fifteen minutes, his feet glued to the ground. Petrified that time was running out but too afraid to hold their hands as they passed.
All of his heroes died all alone.
Suddenly he was back sitting on the curb, the arms of a kind stranger open wide for Bobby to take in her warm embrace. Urging him to call their parents and join him at the hospital.
Sometimes Emily's devastated screams still kept him awake at night.
But the volatile anger he felt ache in his bones when Alex's parents couldn't be bothered to hold a memorial for their son because they were too ashamed of who he was. The very thought of it made Trevor clench his teeth.
The night he returned to the garage, the notebook a heavy weight in his hands. The very thought was terrible even considering performing songs that Luke wrote.
Still, he couldn't resist. At first he felt like he was honoring them. But damn, it felt freeing to be an independent party for one.
In a way, young and naive Bobby thought he was getting justice. Dreams crushed, broken trust and abandonment wasn't going to earn their parents a single dime. He believed that they didn't deserve any of it for how they treated their children.
Now in the present, he just felt like he had cut off his nose just to spite his face.
___
When Carrie, Flynn and Julie were ten, the boys at the playground dared one of them to climb the fairy tree at the park.
Julie's mother called it the fairy tree because the leaves were so papery that they could've been fairy wings.
Flynn, the boldest one and anxious to prove them wrong, climbed the tree up and down. On the way down she lost grasp on a branch and fell at least two feet, landing on Carrie's arm. She had her arm outstretched to guide her back down.
Long story short, Flynn had fractured her right leg and Carrie sprained her left wrist when Flynn landed on her. Julie raced to the nearest adult and dialed 911 before rushing to both of their sides.
She would never admit this now but Carrie wept in Julie's shoulder and she calmly smoothed her hair and told her that she was there for her. That she wouldn't leave.
In Carrie's shoebox where she kept little trinkets, she still had a Polaroid picture that Flynn's dad took when she got a pink cast scrawled with her friends' signatures. She flashed a peace sign as Flynn proudly showed the black boot in the photo, her arm slung around Carrie and the other supported by a crutch.
To not feel left out, Julie wrapped her right leg and left wrist in toilet paper. She stood between Carrie and Flynn, grinning toothily.
It was funny how fast things changed.
Now Flynn scoffed at her scornfully across the hallway and Julie and her fired cheap shots at each other.
Julie had once promised her that she would never leave but that wasn't true. She left. But if Carrie had anyone to blame, she blamed it on herself.
Who could ever leave her?
But who would stay?
Doesn't mean Carrie didn't miss them having sleepovers and singing karaoke at the top of their lungs. Julie's mom's arroz con pollo and the smell of Flynn's One Direction perfume she wore religiously.
But even despite their drifting apart, Carrie never held Rose's death against her friend. It just felt like every time someone compared her to Julie, it was a punch in the gut. It was always them pitted against each other and for once, Carrie wanted to come out on top. To not be known as a bitter rival or the daughter of a rock star but simply Carrie Wilson.
Lashing out and becoming an ice queen seemed easier but it only drove everyone away. Julie. Flynn. Nick.
Even her own mother.
Just one swipe on her phone and she would pour her heart out to the two of them.
How much she wished to be closer than they were before and apologize for pushing them away and being the bad guy. Congratulate her on the wave of success she'll be riding after that jaw dropping set. Maybe even joke about how much chemistry she had with a hologram.
Truth was she's been wanting to tell them this for awhile. There's a hundred thrown out speeches she almost said to them. But she wanted to make things right the right way. A simple phone call wasn't going to change any of that, it wouldn't suffice.
So she didn't.