Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Here In Front of Me
“They’re starting!”
Flynn grabs Julie’s arm and pulls her along as she weaves through the crowd of people. Julie recognizes a lot of them from school, but none of them are her friends. She averts her eyes as Flynn continues to unabashedly elbow a path through the massive house and to the backyard.
Julie can hear a voice speaking into a microphone as they step through the open sliding door and push onto the pool deck. The band’s instruments are set up on risers on the opposite side of the pool, which is lit up with changing colors. The sky isn’t dark enough for the colors to really shine out, though; it’s only sunset.
Since she and Flynn are shorter than a fair amount of the party-goers, Flynn continues to push until they get to the front row. The band comes into clear view. Julie knows all four of the boys from her music class, but she’s never heard them play together before. She knows they’ve had a band for about a year now, but it’s only been in the past couple months where they’ve started to gain popularity and book significant gigs.
Playing at Carrie Wilson’s mansion in front of half of the school certainly counts as a significant gig, especially since her father, Trevor Wilson, has a shelf full of Grammys, American Music Awards, and a wall strung with platinum records. Julie hasn’t seen him tonight, but she can see Carrie standing on the diving board next to her boyfriend, Nick Danforth-Evans.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have come,” Julie says, her eyes unable to leave the back of Carrie’s head.
“Why not?” Flynn demands. “She did give us an invitation.”
“And a few insults.”
Flynn shrugs. “And we gave them right back. Besides, if these guys really are going someplace, then I want to be able to brag that I got to go to free concerts.”
Julie rolls her eyes. “We see them every day in music class. Isn’t that enough bragging rights?”
“Oh, honey. There’s never enough bragging rights.” Flynn pulls out her phone and turns around, taking a selfie with the band in the background. “Now get in for the next one, Julie.”
Julie sighs but she smiles for the picture. Although she’s curious as to what the band sounds like and whether they’re actually good or not - she knows they’re all good musicians on their own, but that doesn’t mean they sound good together or they can write good original music - she’s mostly just here for her friend. Although Flynn is as bold and confident as a high school girl can be, even she didn’t want to attend a party at Carrie Wilson’s house alone - not to mention that her parents wouldn’t let her, either.
While they wait for the band to show up, Julie takes a look around. With the exception of some of the deck furniture being different, everything is just as she remembers from the last time she was here, years ago now. It’s eerie how little some things change.
That’s the other reason why Julie doesn’t quite understand Flynn’s theory on bragging rights for tonight - she and Flynn already have the ultimate bragging rights: they were childhood best friends with Trevor Wilson’s daughter. Julie spent nearly as much time in this mansion as she did at home as a child. She and Flynn haven’t just met Trevor Wilson, they know him personally. Heck, they know him so well that they know that Trevor isn’t even his real name.
Maybe that’s why Julie doesn’t buy into celebrity culture or bragging rights. She knows what life is like for those at the top. She’s met several of the most popular singers and musicians of the few years. Even though she herself isn’t among them, she’s been in that world before. At the end of the day, they’re all just people like herself. The biggest difference is that they just happen to be rich beyond comprehension and can’t go grocery shopping without a disguise.
A cheer goes up around them. Not crazy, like a concert cheer, but more of a friendly support. Julie turns her eyes to the stage to see the four boys stepping onto the risers. Alex Mercer, the drummer, glances over the crowd before sliding behind the drum set; Reggie Peters, the bass player, picks up his guitar, smacking himself in the chin with the head and then trying to play it off as cool; Bobby Nolan, the rhythm guitarist, ducks his head as he slips on his guitar strap, not looking out at the audience once; and finally Luke Patterson, the lead singer and guitarist, steps up to the mic and waves. He has an acoustic guitar on a stand behind him and in front of the drum set.
The four boys couldn’t be more different if they tried. Julie hasn’t actually ever talked to them before, except for the occasional “excuse me” in the halls or in group projects in music class. She won’t pretend to know them the way she knows Flynn, but after three years of being in the same music program she does have a general sense of their attitudes and behaviors.
Alex is the only blond in the group, and he always wears pastel colored tops - light pink hoodies, sky blue and lime green T-shirts - with black pants and high top sneakers of varying colors. The only reason Julie has ever really taken note of his fashion is because he started the fanny pack trend in their school two years ago. Sometime during her freshman year of high school he started wearing a black fanny pack around his torso, which at first made people laugh until two things happened: one, people started digging out their parents’ old fanny packs from the eighties and nineties to mock him until they realized how comfortable and convenient they are and started wearing them unironically and two, a conspiracy started when people realized they’d never seen him open his fanny pack and all sorts of rumors spread about what he keeps inside it. Julie doesn’t normally get too into gossip, but she couldn’t help her curiosity and she’s spent the last two years watching him in class, trying to learn the secret (to this day, she nor anyone else still has no idea what he keeps in his fanny pack). Logically she knows she could probably just ask, because even though they’re not friends he seems pretty approachable. She wouldn’t call him shy, but he also doesn’t go out of his way to make himself seen. He seems content sitting behind his drum set or hiding in his group of friends.
Reggie, in a direct contrast, wears mostly black and red: it’s a rare day when Julie sees him without his black leather jacket, black jeans, black shoes, and his trademark red plaid flannel. Black piercings up his left ear and eyebrow give him an edgier look than matches his personality. Sometimes when she bores of waiting for Alex to reach into his fanny pack she watches him instead; he has an unusually expressive face. He’s definitely the mischievous one of the group, always playing pranks or messing around in class. His antics have brought Julie, Flynn, and the rest of their class to tears dozens of times. He exudes false confidence though he’s actually quite dorky and clumsy. Until he steps on stage, that is; even after more than two years of being in music class with him, Julie can’t quite understand how he utterly transforms the moment he starts to play. All the awkwardness surrounding him melts away and he’s suddenly smooth and charismatic. He’s almost a different person - like Peter Parker and Spiderman, or Clark Kent and Superman. Only instead of a mask or a costume, Reggie just covers himself in music.
Of the four of them, Bobby is the one Julie knows the least. He transferred to their school in the middle of her freshman year and has kept a low profile. The only gossip she’s ever heard about him are the typical rumors that always follow a transfer student, and even that died away completely within a week. He keeps to himself mostly, with the exception of his three friends; he’s quiet and reserved in an almost meek way, as if he’s balanced on a sheet of ice that he’s just waiting to melt away. He wears simple clothes in neutral colors: black jeans, white, gray, and army green T-shirts, and black converse. The only memorable part of his outfit is the set of dog tags he always wears, usually tucked beneath his shirt. Julie can’t ever remember hearing him talk in front of the class. She sees him reading a lot, though, and he always seems to have a tattered paperback around him. He doesn’t smile a lot except around his bandmates, and even then it’s only a ghost of a smile. There’s a stiffness to all his movements, like there’s machinery underneath his skin and a robot for a brain controlling him.
The last member of their band is Luke Patterson. Reggie might look the roughest and be the prankster, but Luke is the real rebel of the group. He misses the maximum amount of days of school a semester a person can miss without being held back or severely punished. He only ever does his homework if it’s something that interests him. He’s constantly getting in trouble for talking in class and he’s the person who always continues playing several measures after their music director cuts them off, most of the time just to show off. He also gets lectured for improvising or guessing at rhythms instead of reading the sheet music, which he always replies with an excuse along the lines of, “I’m not really feeling it with the music” or “But doesn’t this sound so much better?” He stirred up the entire school when he started a protest against the dress code after the assistant principal told him he couldn’t wear cut-off shirts because of the no-shoulder clause in the student handbook (a fight which he won after a week of over half the school wearing tank tops in solidarity with his cause), he wears a beanie at least twice a week even though hats are also forbidden via the school handbook (no teacher dares make a big deal out of it since the fiasco with the shoulders), and he’s an absolute menace in the classroom because he can never sit still or pay attention for more than a few minutes at a time. Julie gets the vibe that he’s not causing problems on purpose out of a need for attention but rather because he simply doesn’t think. He seems to live in a world of his own where he doesn’t realize the full consequences of his actions on others. She wouldn’t go so far as to call him arrogant, but he’s definitely cocky and selfish, even if advertently. And it doesn’t help that he’s cute, which means that all the girls are constantly swooning over him and acting as if he can do no wrong and even the teachers soften their punishments when he looks at them with his big, puppy-dog eyes. Once again, Julie doesn’t think he does it on purpose. To be brutally honest, he’s kinda dumb and oblivious, but even that isn’t detrimental to him because it gives him an aura of innocent and naivety.
Still, all that doesn’t mean he isn’t a good musician. Julie won’t deny that she has a mental top five list of the best musicians in their program and he’s safely in that group.
Luke steps up to the mic and flashes one of his trademark smiles. One of the girls next to Julie sighs deeply and presses her hand to her chest. Julie rolls her eyes.
“Good evening, everyone!” Luke calls out. “Thanks for coming out on this nice evening, and a huge thanks to our host, Carrie Wilson, for inviting us to play here. Enjoy the show! We’re Sunset Curve, tell your friends.”
He steps back and strums twice on his guitar, glancing over at his sides and back to the others. Alex lifts his drumsticks in the air and counts off before they blast into song.
Julie finds herself nodding her head along to the beat while Flynn records everything on her phone. Around them, the other teenagers dance and cheer. Julie is reluctant to admit it, but the boys are good. Really good. And beyond that, they bring a lot of energy to the show. Alex bounces up and down as he drums, his blond hair flopping in his eyes; Reggie jumps on the drum platform and bangs his head to the beat; Bobby moves as fluidly as Julie has even seen him, hopping up on an amp and doing a twist jump in the air without messing up his chords; even Luke, who is tied to the mic in front of him, bobs up and down, kicking his feet out to the sides, the muscles in his biceps flexing with every strum.
It’s a good concert, she can’t deny it. Even though she doesn’t know their songs, she still finds herself loosening up and dancing along. Flynn shoots her wide-toothed smiles between songs. The sun sets behind the band as they perform. By the time they get to their last long, their faces are pale and reflecting the LED lights of the pool - which are synchronized along to the beat of their music, like the kind of lights middle-aged white people with no kids set up in their lawns at Christmastime.
“That’s new!” Flynn says, pointing to them the first time they’re noticeable.
Julie’s eyes flicker over to Carrie, who has her chin held up high in the air as she surveys the party like a queen would survey her subjects. Either she doesn’t notice Julie and Flynn or she doesn’t care because her gaze moves right over them without stopping. Nick has his arm around her shoulders, always the dutiful king-consort.
With the loss of the sun, the night air becomes a little chillier. As soon as the boys finish their set, many of the attendees stream back inside the mansion. Julie and Flynn wait until almost everyone is gone, not wanting to bother with the crush of the crowds again.
“So, aren’t you glad I made you come?” Flynn asks as they sit by the edge of the pool. Across from them, the boys are helping a few employees of the Wilson family dismantle the temporary stage and pack up the instruments and equipment. No one pays them any attention in the darkness.
“Yeah, I am. It was a good show.”
“Does it inspire you any?”
Julie presses her lips together. She knows how much Flynn wants her to get back into music again. And she wants to, for her friend’s sake, for her family’s sake, for her own sake, but she just can’t. It’s too painful.
“It reminds me of the music I used to listen to with my mom,” Julie says, avoiding the answer Flynn wants.
Once the only people left out on the deck are the teens sneaking out to smoke and make-out, Julie and Flynn head back into the house. Students are spread out around the mansion, most congregated in the main kitchen and the first story living rooms. For the Wilsons’ sakes, Julie hopes the upstairs is blocked off.
She and Flynn wander around the house. Most of the rooms are either too loud, music pumping out of the speakers situated in every room, or too gross - teenage boys daring each other to do stupid things or entire rooms dedicated to couples. Some friendly stranger with a red solo cup in their hands recommends the punch in the main kitchen to them.
“It’s one part Hawaiian Tropical Punch, one part Sprite, and one part vodka,” they say. “You have to try it!”
Flynn and Julie thank them, then continue on their way. Although some of the furniture and artwork has changed, the layout of the house is exactly as they remember from their childhood. Julie is relieved to find that the kitchenette in the basement is not only still stocked up with most of the same snacks, but also completely abandoned.
“Now this is the motherload,” Flynn says as she opens up the fridge to reveal several boxes of Capri Sun pouches. “I just don’t understand how someone who drinks the beverage of the gods can be so awful.”
“Are you sure these aren’t the same pouches as when we were kids?” Julie asks, flipping one over and checking the date.
“Not possible. They’ve changed the design over the years.”
“I honestly don’t think I’ve had one since we stopped hanging out with Carrie.” Julie sticks the straw in and takes a long drink. “But it’s still as good as I remember it. Maybe even better.”
“Definitely better,” Flynn confirms. They drink one up completely and then take another one as they head back up to the party.
Although they’d only been gone about ten minutes, the house is nearly empty when they emerge back on the main level. Only a few students are still loitering around. When Flynn asks where everyone went, the half-drunk student tells her that Trevor Wilson showed up and is having an impromptu fireside concert in the backyard. Even as he’s speaking, Julie can hear a muted cheer go up from outside and the sound of loud singing.
“Do you want to watch TV?” Flynn asks after they’ve drifted into another room. “I don’t really feel like being that close to Carrie again.”
“Let’s just stay inside,” Julie agrees. They walk past a room with a table set up with red solo cups and a few people hanging around inside. “I’ve seen Trevor Wilson perform live plenty of times.”
“Hey, you!”
Julie pauses and shoots Flynn a confused look before the two of them turn and backtrack a few steps, hovering just outside the doorway they’ve just passed. She hadn’t bothered to see who was inside before, but now she gets a good look.
Luke Patterson is standing in front of the table, a white ping pong ball in his hand. Alex Mercer, Reggie Peters, and Bobby Nolan are leaning against the back wall. They’re talking amongst themselves but fall silent when they see Julie and Flynn. Luke is turned towards the doorway, watching them.
“Excuse me?” Julie asks.
“She has a name, you know,” Flynn says.
“I know that,” Luke says. “It’s Molina. Ju- something Molina. Jenna? Joline? June?”
“It’s Julie,” Julie corrects. She makes sure to look properly annoyed, but she’s actually more curious than irritated. She’s surprised that he knew her name at all, even if he was off a little. More than that, she wonders why he called out to her. They’ve never really talked before - not about anything meaningful, at least, and none of their few, brief conversations have ever been memorable.
Luke’s smile widens, revealing his perfect teeth. “Right. How about I just call you Mo?”
Julie gives him a tight-lipped smile in return. “How about you don’t?”
From outside, the muffled sounds of a loud cheer echo in the empty house. Luke cocks his head towards it. “Going out to join the party? Or have you ‘seen Trevor Wilson perform live enough times already’?”
“You were eavesdropping on our conversation?” Julie demands.
“That’s not cool,” Flynn agrees.
Luke doesn’t seem bothered. He tosses the ping pong ball up in the air and catches it. “It’s not eavesdropping if you’re talking loud enough for everyone to hear. But I guess I’m just not a goody two-shoes like you.”
“A goody two-shoes?” Julie asks. “I’m not - ”
Luke smiles and shakes his head. “Don’t even try to deny it. You get all As, you don’t cause trouble in class, and you jump at the opportunity to help the staff out. You’re a classic teacher’s pet.”
“It’s called being a good student.”
“More like being a boring student.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Did you call me over here just to insult me?”
“‘Course not. I wanted to know why you’re here. I’ve never seen you at parties before.”
Under no circumstances is Julie going to admit that she only came to hear his band play, especially not after he’s been roasting her. So she avoids answering the question directly. “Carrie and I were friends. I practically grew up here.”
“So that’s how you knew where to find those.” Luke nods at the Capri Sun pouches she and Flynn are holding.
“Yeah. And?”
Luke steps back to the end of the table. “Play a round with me,” he says, shifting a few of the solo cups.
She raises an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Why not?” He looks back over at her, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Or are you too much of a goody two-shoes?”
Julie knows he’s baiting her, but she can’t resist the wave of competitiveness that surges within her. She has to prove that she’s not boring just because she’s a good student. She hands her Capri Sun pouch to Flynn and walks over to the other side of the table. She’s never played beer pong before, but the rules seem pretty straight forward.
“One round. But I’m not drinking that.” She points to the beer in the solo cups. “Who knows what’s been in there.”
To her surprise, Luke doesn’t pressure her. He just finishes setting up the cups on his side. “I wouldn’t want you to drink, anyway,” he says. “You’d probably be wasted after the second cup.”
Julie wishes she had a good comeback, but she doesn’t. He’s absolutely right. She’s never drank before, other than the occasional sip of wine at a wedding or during the holidays or when taking the Eucharist at Mass. Her alcohol tolerance is probably pretty low.
“You can go first,” Luke says, tossing her the ping pong ball. “If I win, you show me and my boys where the Capri Sun is hiding.”
Julie can’t suppress the burst of surprised laughter that escapes her lips. “So that’s what this is all about,” she says, catching the ball. “You just wanted juice this whole time.”
Luke shrugs. “Capri Sun slaps.”
“So what do I get if I win?”
“That’s not going to happen, but bragging rights, I guess. Everyone knows I’m the best at this game.” He turns back to his bandmates, who have been quietly watching the whole time. “Isn’t that right, boys?”
“He is pretty good,” Reggie admits.
“I wouldn’t say the best,” Alex corrects.
“I’ve only seen him lose once,” Bobby adds.
Now Julie really wants to win. She knows she won’t, but at least she can make it close. She wants to stick it to him. She decides to take back her earlier thought about Luke not being arrogant. It’s probably a side effect of being the lead singer in a mildly popular band. Or just a side effect of being a cute white boy and knowing it.
“Deal. But If I win, you have to tell everyone here yourself.”
Luke grins. “I accept.”
Julie lines up her first shot and tosses the ball. It misses the cup she was aiming for, but it sinks into another one. Luke pulls the ball out and tosses it back to her while pushing the cup to the side of the table. Julie is a little surprised that he himself doesn’t drink.
She throws again and misses. Luke is up next. He dunks the ball in one of his cups before throwing. It lands in the first cup of her pyramid. She pulls it to the side and returns the ball. On his next throw, he bounces it into a cup.
“You take two cups for bounces,” he tells her. Julie wishes she had known that, but she doesn’t want to admit that she’s never played or even really watched this game before. It would only prove him right.
Julie tries bouncing her next ball. It hits the rim of a cup but bounces off. Luckily for her, Luke also misses his next shot.
They go back and forth for a few rounds. Julie focuses as much as she can on the game, ignoring Flynn and all the boys except for Luke. To her pleasant surprise, she keeps up with Luke, never being more than two cups down from him. He doesn’t seem too surprised, so she wonders if he’s going easy on her. She hopes not.
Despite his cocky attitude when they first spoke, he seems to drop most of those pretences as they play. He congratulates her on good shots and shares good natured trash talks as they play. Even with her overzealous desire to win, Julie finds herself having a good time.
Julie closes the lead to one cup after he misses her last cup three times in a row. They both shoot a few times, the last lone cup a taunting challenge. They’ve both fallen silent now, intently concentrating.
Even before the ball splashes into her last cup, Julie knows its game over. She’s a little disappointed, but mostly she’s just proud of herself for keeping up with him. She concedes graciously, tossing the ball back to him.
“That was a good game,” he says, walking around the table to shake her hand. “You played well for a teacher’s pet.”
Julie rolls her eyes but accepts his handshake. “I’m a little disappointed, Patterson. I thought you were supposed to be the ‘best.’” She makes air quotes around the last word.
In the background, the boys and Flynn go “oooh”. Luke just shakes his head, smiling a little.
“That was just my warm up round. Besides, I was taking it easy on you.”
“If that’s what you have to tell yourself to sleep at night.”
He leans away from her. “I didn’t know you had such a sassy side, Mo. But we had a deal. Lead us to the goods.”
Julie and Flynn take the boys down to the basement. It occurs to Julie that perhaps the basement is off-limits, though there’s no signs or locks enforcing it and she doubts high schoolers would read the signs anyways. Maybe Carrie is relying on the intimidation of her father’s status to keep people in line.
Luke and Reggie push past Julie and Flynn to throw open the fridge doors. They cheer loudly as they pull out a box and start tearing it apart. Alex and Bobby exchange looks and roll their eyes, but they accept the pouches that are handed to them. Luke hands her and Flynn one each as well.
“To Julie and Flynn,” Luke toasts, holding up his Capri Sun. The other boys follow suit. “For being keepers of the secret knowledge of the treasure.”
“To Julie and Flynn,” the others repeat. Julie facepalms, but she’s a bit touched.
“I know the phrase ‘Boys will be boys’ has bad connotations,” Flynn whispers to her, “but I think this was how it was originally intended.”
The boys hang out in the kitchenette, Reggie finding the snack stash and pulling out a gallon carton of rainbow goldfish while they sit on the countertops and chat. Julie and Flynn pull away to TV and couches, where they cue up The Office and kick back to drink their Capri Sun.
When Julie’s dad texts her a half hour later to let her know he’s on his way to pick them up, the boys wave goodbye to them as they head back up the stairs. Julie has to admit that they’re actually kind of cool. A bit cocky, yeah, and they have the same chaotic energy as a group of frat boys, but overall pretty nice. If she ever went to another party - which she probably won’t - she’d want to hang out with them again.
“I’m glad we came,” she tells Flynn as they sit out on the front steps, waiting for her dad.
“Me, too. I haven’t seen you as alive as you were tonight in a year.” Flynn leans her head on her shoulder. “You seem happy, Julie.”
“Yeah.” Julie lets herself smile. “I am.”
-
“That was awesome!” Luke swings his guitar around his back and walks over to clasp Reggie’s hand, pulling him in close. “I love the changes you made on the bass line.”
“Just don’t ask me to repeat it,” Reggie jokes. “I’m not sure I remember exactly what I did.”
“That’s why drums are the way to go,” Alex says, twirling his drumsticks. “No notes to remember.”
“But you have to be able to play like three different rhythms at a time. That’s tough, bro.” Luke shakes his head. He glances over to Bobby, who is pulling his guitar off and setting it on his stand. “Get over here, man,” he calls over.
Bobby smiles slightly and ducks under the arm Luke throws over his shoulders. His hair, parted in the middle, falls into his face. He shoves his hands deep into the front pockets of his jeans.
“We killed it at the party last night,” Luke says, looking around at all three of his bandmates. “We have something special. We can make it to the top. I know we can. We’ve all sacrificed so much for this, and our hard work is finally starting to pay off.”
He makes eye contact with each of them for a brief moment. In Reggie’s eyes, he sees excitement and apprehension. Music isn’t just a part of him, it literally changes him; he’s his most confident self when he’s rocking out, at one with the music. He’s equally in love with and wary of the attention he gets. In Alex’s eyes, he sees nervousness, both good and bad. Alex wants nothing more than to play music for the rest of his life, but he struggles with nerves and some stage fright. For now, he can just hide behind his drum set; but if they make it big, he’ll always be in the limelight. In Bobby’s eyes, he sees acute desire and need. Bobby can’t live without music. He needs it like he needs oxygen to breathe.
The tension of the moment is broken when a frail voice calls out, “Boys! I made cookies for you all!”
They all exhale at once, looking away and stepping back. Bobby pushes his hair out of his eyes and steps over the mess of power cords, amps, and instrument cases strewn about the floor, heading for the doorway to the kitchen. Alex sets his drum sticks across the head of his snare drum and stands up, squeezing between his crash cymbal and the wall to get out.
The smell of cookies drifts out of the open door as Bobby’s grandmother, Mrs. Nolan, hobbles into the cramped living room, a plate of cookies in her hand. Bobby takes them gently from her, setting them on the edge of the couch and gently taking her arm.
“Thanks, Nan,” he says.
“You guys are sounding good,” she croaks. “I always love hearing you all practice.”
“Can you even hear us?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. She swats weakly at him.
“Is that how you talk to your old, dying grandmother? I know my son didn’t raise you like that.”
Bobby smiles. “You’re not dying, Nan.”
He escorts her back out of the room. Although she pretends to be strong and independent, Luke can see how heavily she leans on him. Even though crashing in her tiny house is not the most ideal, he’s glad she’s not living alone, or even just with Bobby. There’s almost always one of them around to help her out or to keep an eye on her.
Reggie and Alex have already taken over the couch and are holding the plate of cookies between them when Bobby returns. He sits on the armrest, leaning over Alex to grab one off the plate.
“I tried making these once before, but they didn’t taste as good,” Reggie complains, his mouth full. “She said there was no secret ingredient, but I think she was lying to me.”
“She’s a grandma,” Alex points out. “Grandmas are automatically better bakers. It’s like their superpower.”
Reggie frowns, then shakes his head. “Nope. That’s not it. My grandma is a terrible baker. She burns everything.”
Luke’s phone buzzes. He pulls it out of his pocket and reads the email that he just received. “Good news, boys. We got a spot at the Fall Music Festival in the park.”
“When is that, again?” Bobby asks, wiping his hands on his jeans.
“Next month. We’ve got a few weeks to prepare.”
“Do we have any other gigs before then?” Alex asks.
“I have us down for busking on the Hollywood Walk of Fame next week,” Luke says, pulling up the notes app on his phone. Alex keeps trying to get him to use the calendar app, or a shared google docs sheet, but he’s never been much good at technology. Once he figures out one way to do something, he sticks with it, even though it might not be the most convenient.
There’s a chorus of groans from all three of the others. “Busking is the worst,” Reggie complains. “We have to haul all our equipment around by ourselves and we barely get any money.”
“It’s not about the money, it’s about exposure,” Luke reminds him. “Remember when someone put up a video about us on Youtube that got a bunch of hits? It helped get us some actual gigs. And now that we have a recorded demo, we can hand out CDs.”
“All I remember is when we got arrested,” Bobby says. “That was exposure, but not the kind we’re looking for.”
Luke rolls his eyes. “How many times do I have to apologize? I didn’t know we were on private property! It was just a little mistake.”
“A little mistake that almost went on our permanent records,” Alex reminds him.
“I promise we won’t get in trouble this time,” Luke says.
“Good, ‘cause my Nan says she can’t afford to bail us all out again.” The edge of Bobby’s lip curls up in a small smile. “She said she’d bail out Alex first, then me if she had any money left.”
“Trust me, we’re not going back to jail.” Luke remembers how close of a call it had been. The police officers had been on the phone with his parents when Bobby’s grandma had shown up to spring them. If she’d been any later, Luke probably would have been turned back over to his parents. Out of all the ways he’s imagined finally going back home to make peace with his parents, being let to his front door in handcuffs is not one.
The thought of his parents darkens his mood, so he shoves them away.
The other boys don’t seem to notice his sudden mood change. Alex disappears into the guest bedroom they all intermittently share - Reggie and Alex technically still live at home, but Reggie’s parents work a lot and are rarely home and Alex and his parents have had a don’t-ask-don’t-tell kind of relationship since he came out as gay. They love him, but because of their backgrounds it’s something that’s hard for them to be cool about. He usually stays at home during the school week and sleeps over during the weekends and the nights of gigs.
Alex emerges with a textbook, a notebook, and a few pens and highlighters. Bobby picks up his own study materials and they rest their feet up on the coffee table as they do homework. Reggie pulls on his leather jacket and waves as he ducks out to head home. Luke knows he should probably be doing homework but he can’t find the motivation to. Even when he has the motivation, he can never concentrate for more than about ten minutes at a time. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy learning, it’s just that it’s so hard for him. Music is the only thing he can completely lose himself in. Even movies are difficult for him to sit through.
He pulls out his headphones and shuffles his alternative and punk rock playlist. He has two moods: listening to a playlist full of singles from many different artists, and listening through select albums straight through on repeat. Different artists and songs lure him in for different reasons. Some bands he listens to because he likes the sound of their music. He’s a huge fan of Linkin Park, KALEO, and Green Day for their rocking guitar riffs, Panic! At the Disco, Fall Out Boy, and Imagine Dragons for their overall sounds, and twenty one pilots, BANNERS, and Bastille for their genius lyrics. There are dozens of other bands and artists across all the different sub-genres of rock that he loves and listens to regularly, but those are the ones he’s really into right now. He just recently got out of a 90s phase where all he listened to was 90s music. And of course, legendary bands like Queen, Fleetwood Mac, Nirvana, The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, The Beatles, and more are huge inspirations.
He takes out a notebook and doodles mindlessly as he draws, jotting down song lyrics that stick out, writing out rhythms he likes, and sketching what comes to mind as he listens.
A Trevor Wilson song comes out, and Luke finds himself thinking about the party last night. There had been close to two hundred people at that party. They’d packed the backyard and deck around the pool, many standing in the house with the windows and sliding doors fully open. There'd been so much energy at that performance. Even though most of those people had just come in the hopes that Trevor might make an appearance, they had all seemed to enjoy Sunset Curve’s music.
Luke had been on a total high the entire night. He didn’t even mind that everyone forgot about them the moment Trevor Wilson showed up and offered to host an impromptu bonfire concert. All he cared about was that for a half hour, all those students had been connected to them through their music.
That’s the whole reason why Luke cares about music so much. He craves the special connection with people that only music can bring. He’s an extrovert, his energy coming from the energy of other people around him, thriving on making people happy.
As awesome as the concert had been, what had even been better was what happened afterward. Luke barely knows Julie Molina, despite being with her in music class for two and a half years, but he does know that her mom died last year. She’d been missing from school for an entire week and rumors of all sorts were spread around until finally Mrs. Harrison told them all the truth. When Julie came back the next week, suddenly everyone was her best friend, giving her a huge signed poster board and hugs and condolences. Luke felt bad for her, of course, but the whole thing seemed so fake to him. He’s never understood why people who have never talked to her, or worse, been mean to her, put on the fake masks. It would have been one thing if they’d actually been there for her, but most of them went back to their lives as if nothing happened within a week.
He and the boys signed the poster board but they didn’t go out of their way to talk to her. The last thing she probably wanted was a bunch of strangers’ pity. If something horrible were to happen to the people Luke cared about, he knows he wouldn’t want to be reminded of it every second of every day. He would want people to treat him normally, and he’d only confide to the people who are close to him.
Luke can’t remember a specific instance in which he’s ever talked to her before last night, or her friend. He’s not sure exactly what motivated him to call out to her. Sure, he’d noticed the Capri Suns and wanted one, but it was more than that. Maybe it was because of the way she’d reacted to their music. He’d caught a glimpse of her in the front row by the pool during their concert, smiling and dancing with her best friend. He hadn’t thought too much of it at the time, being fully immersed in the performance, but maybe it had subconsciously stuck out to him because he can’t remember the last time he’s seen her like that. Since her mother’s death, she’d been quiet - quiet to the point of becoming a wallflower. He can’t remember her doing anything in music class for the past year. He barely remembered that she was in his class.
Still living off the high of their performance, he’d been bolder than he normally is. He doesn’t usually approach girls first - and, honestly, he doesn’t have to - but something about her drew him in, the curiosity overpowering him. He’d had no plan in mind when he’d called out to her, no idea of what he wanted from her. But talking to her had turned out surprisingly easy - they’d bantered back and forth like it was something they’ve done a thousand times.
Luke isn’t sure what it all means. He doesn’t know if it means anything. Before yesterday, he hadn’t even thought about Julie Molina in a year. Even now she only comes to mind when something triggers the memory, like the taste of a Capri Sun or a certain Trevor Wilson song.
He glances down at his notebook and is surprised to see that he’s drawn out a rough sketch of her face, her wild curls and the competitive smile she’d had on her face as they played beer pong undeniable. Luke quickly turns the page to a new one, a little embarrassed by it. Drawing people you barely know is a little creepy.
He picks up his phone and switches his music over to a story album where he knows his thoughts are safe. He dives into the music, his mind working through the poetic lyrics and puzzling out the story the artist has carefully interwoven through several different mediums all at once.
Julie Molina is all but forgotten.