Chapter Text
Life changing events do not warn you before they happen. As such, Julie has no idea what to expect when she and Flynn sit down in front of Flynn’s laptop.
They’re in Flynn’s room, after school. Julie’s still in her sports clothing, since sport was their last class of the day. In contrast, Flynn has changed, shifting into an overly long jumper that gives her sweater paws. It had, at some point, been in Julie’s closet, though she’s not certain whether it had started there or if she’d stolen it briefly.
(Julie is… fairly certain that all best friends, especially those as close as her and Flynn, share clothing. Though, it’s probably not to the level that they do, as Julie is a frequent visitor over to Flynn’s house, even if Flynn isn’t home, just to ruffle through her closet for some nice clothing to wear. Perhaps it’s just who they are as friends, but perhaps it’s because they grew up together. Julie will never know how to exist in a world without Flynn, and she hopes that she’ll never have to.)
“I don’t know,” Julie says, pressing her lips together as she stares at the laptop screen. Her eyes aren’t drawn to the stickers that peek around the sides, but are instead focussed solely on the website open.
Huffing, Flynn elbows Julie until she moves over so that they can share the bed a bit more equally. If the elbow has a bit more force behind it, just so that she could make a point, well… That’s for Flynn and Flynn alone to know.
With a click of the mousepad, Julie switches from one page and navigates back to the homepage of the website. The stark title—Soulnote—at the top of the website catches her attention, as it always does, but Julie flicks her eyes away. Beyond the laptop, there’s an old drawing Julie had made of Flynn with her trumpet. It’s one of the many pictures that decorate Flynn’s room, and even though it’s a few years old now, it still remains.
There’s something Julie could say about that, and she could definitely make a better drawing. However, it’s not the drawing itself that catches her attention. Rather, it’s the subject—specifically, the trumpet.
“What could the harm be?” Flynn asks, a teasing tilt to her tone.
Julie presses her lips together, because she doesn’t really have an answer to that. There are no words she knows that could quite articulate the feeling in her chest, the tangle of emotions that rise in her throat and choke her whenever she thinks about music.
Because- Because-
How can there be music in the world, when it’s a world without Rose in it? How can music exist, beautiful and extravagant, when Rose no longer sings in the car? How can the world be anything other than grey, when Julie’s mum is dead?
The answer is that there can’t be music, that it can’t be beautiful, that the world can only be grey now. And everyone has tried to help Julie, to see her pick up an instrument or even sing a note, but these days, she just turns the radio off.
(Everyone has tried to get Julie to play music again. Her counsellor, her father, her brother, Flynn. But everyone has received the same answer, and it’s that Julie can’t, that she isn’t able to. She doesn’t know what’s stopping her, only knows that she can’t lift the piano lid, can’t sing a word, can’t listen to music. She did all of those things with her mum, how can she live in a world where she no longer can?)
(But she has to, because this is the only world there is. Rose died and Julie has to live with that, but grief is a heavy weight to bear and Julie struggles beneath it.)
“Look,” Flynn says, voice flat and serious in a way she so rarely is, “if you really don’t want to do it, I won’t force you.” Julie looks at Flynn, at her sister in everything but blood, and swallows, because there is something else here and she waits for Flynn to share her thoughts.
“But,” her best friend continues, gaze steady on Julie’s face, “you loved music. You loved music so much that it’s awful to see you without it, Jules. If you really don’t want to, I won’t force you but… Give it a chance, okay? Give yourself a chance.”
Julie exhales, slowly, and forces herself to wait a beat before responding. She doesn’t want to snap at Flynn, but music is a sore point. It’s just-
Music isn’t everything, not anymore. Does she really need it? Does she want it?
(How could she want it when it just reminds her of everything she’s lost?)
Still, this is Flynn. Flynn. For Flynn, Julie has done so much, and she’ll do even more. It’s not so much a possibility as it is a certainty.
With a sigh, Julie clicks the back button and waits for the page to load. The website opens to the registering page and the laptop cursor blinks up at her, uncaring for her hesitation.
“The first bit is your name,” Flynn helpfully says, and in doing so, prompting Julie into action. She’s grateful that Flynn hadn’t simply said that the first bit is easy, (because it is, it’s just her name, but… this is connecting to music, and in doing so, it becomes a trial).
First name, only, then a request for her email. Julie types it in, the clicking of the keyboard loud in the silence of Flynn’s room. She remembers, for a split second, another time, another memory.
(She’d been typing on Flynn’s laptop, again, though this time in search of a movie. Flynn had been beside her on the bed, both of them knocking elbows and shoulders and laughing. From the Bluetooth speaker, a soft song had been playing and Julie had paused in her search to sing along, not quite in-tune but enjoying singing regardless.)
(Music had been beautiful, once. She’d loved it, once. And now she is caught, off-balance, and doesn’t quite know where to go from here.)
“Make sure you put in your bad email,” Flynn helpfully advises, and Julie rolls her eyes. They’ve had enough talks at school about cyber safety.
She types in the email that she’d created years ago, some old username that’s been left behind in her memories. “I know,” she says, pausing as the page asks for how many instruments she can play. She presses her lips together and breathes. It feels like there’s something stuck in her throat, clogging her breathing, and she doesn’t know how to answer the question.
Thankfully, in this, Julie isn’t alone, and a nudge of Flynn’s arm has her sliding the laptop over to her best friend. She watches, resting her head on her hands, as Flynn fills in the rest of the details for her, doing what Julie feels unable to, in this moment.
“I still think it’s weird that voice counts as an instrument,” Flynn says as she makes a note of two instruments, adding what ones in the little note box beneath it, along with an additional sentence of other instruments that Julie can kind of play, (not that she has in over a year).
Julie hums. This is a conversation they’ve had before, an easy one to respond to. “I mean, it does have musical potential. It’s pretty important in that way.” She manages a smile, wan, because this is where her mum would chime in about how voice is one of the most important instruments.
Only there is no Rose, so there’s no one else speaking up where she ordinarily would. Julie breathes around it, knowing better how to do so a year later, but still struggling.
“Okay,” Flynn says. “I think it’s all done!”
Before Julie has a chance to review the information, Flynn clicks submit. It is rather like Flynn to do such a thing, and Julie just sighs, jostling her best friend as she does so. She clicks back to the homepage, eyes falling on the bold proclamation ‘Matching you with your musical soulmate!’ just before she closes the webpage.
“Alright,” Julie says, shoving the laptop away from her. “What do we want to do now?”
Flynn hums. “We have maths homework,” she says but, with a sideways glance, she adds, “however, my family also got that new flavour of ice-cream we’ve been talking about trying for ages, and a marathon of movies to get through.”
With a laugh, Julie sits upright. “I like the way you think,” she says, and then they abandon Flynn’s room and her laptop, for the fridge with the ice-cream and the TV that calls their names.
In the days that follow signing up, Julie completely and entirely forgets about the whole thing. Instead, she’s lost in a wash of projects and homework and spending far too much time watching a new TV show.
It’s not until she’s at home, frowning down at her history homework, when her phone goes off that she remembers. Glancing at her phone, Julie knows it’s not Flynn, because Flynn’s got the brass ensemble for another half an hour, so long as they don’t go overtime.
Instead, the notification comes from an app—Soulnote. The website that Flynn had signed her up for, the one that finds your musical soulmate.
(Julie hadn’t quite hoped she wouldn’t get paired up with anyone, but she also had. Because if she hadn’t been paired up, then she wouldn’t need to think about music, think about playing, think about all those past memories that she’ll never be able to fully relive again.)
For a second, Julie wonders whether to ignore the notification and push on with her homework. But then, the fact she’s almost fallen asleep twice when reading the latest pages of the textbook wins out and she shoves her homework away from her, picking up her phone instead.
The app’s icon reminds her of TikTok, black with a single white quaver in the foreground. Clicking on it, Julie waits for it to load. The app takes her to a login page, which she does, before returning to the loading screen.
Half a minute later, it’s fully loaded and Julie finds herself on what must be the app’s homepage. Partway down, there’s a message that says ‘PAIRING FOUND’ in black bold letters. Before she clicks on it, Julie pauses.
She looks away from her phone, and her gaze falls on the dahlia sticker that sits on her corkboard. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she says, barely breathing the words.
Outside her window, the wind chime chimes gently in a breeze and Julie closes her eyes, music tasting sweet on her tongue before turning sour. She wants to stop, to delete the app, wants to go back to pretending that music doesn’t exist but-
But.
(The truth is that, despite everything, there’s a part of Julie that misses music. It had been everything and she misses her mum more, is grieving Rose and music both, and yet… she feels seconds away from reaching out and turning the radio back on. Only she can’t, because when she does, Rose won’t be singing along to it and Julie doesn’t know how she can live with that. Silence is, by far, the better option.)
For Flynn, Julie thinks, and maybe a little for herself too.
She clicks the message and the app takes her to a new screen. It’s a group chat but a message pops up before she can see the chat itself. It tells her that she’s been matched with three others and gives a rundown of the rules and expectations. Julie reads it, agrees to it, and it disappears, leaving the group chat open.
It seems like it’s only just started, because there’s only one or two messages when she scrolls up.
‘Hello’ Julie types with fingers that don’t tremble, even though she thinks that they should. ‘I’m Julie, she/her.’
Immediately, one of the others responds with a waving gif. ‘Hey Julie!!!!’ they respond, with far too many exclamation marks. The energy is almost palatable, and it pulls a smile to Julie’s face. The person adds another message, seconds after sending their first. ‘I’m Reggie btw! He/him they/them!’
Julie has the feeling that she’s going to be seeing a lot of exclamation marks in her future. She can’t quite decide whether or not that’s a good thing.
‘Hey! I’m luke he/him’ comes the next message, a profile picture appearing already. It’s a guitar and the speed at creating a profile picture makes Julie smile, amused.
The last person introduces themselves a few seconds later. ‘Alex, he/him’ is all he writes.
Reggie sends a bunch of smiley-face emojis and Julie finds herself smiling. This feels a bit strange but… it’s a nice strange.
‘So’ Luke writes ‘what does everyone play?’
A sour feeling forms in Julie’s stomach, removing any positive feelings she’d had only moments ago. She knows this is meant to help her go back to music, but she can’t. She just can’t.
‘I’m sorry’ she writes with fingers that still don’t tremble, though she feels like they should. ‘I’ve got to go. Homework y’know’.
The boys are all sad to see her go, Luke sounding extremely gloomy, but they wish her luck with her homework nonetheless. After turning her phone off, Julie presses her palms against her eyes and just- just breathes.
Maybe Flynn was wrong, maybe there is no coming back to music for Julie.
(Maybe she should just give up.)
Joining Soulnote had been a spur of the moment decision, the kind of decision that Alex so rarely makes. He’s far more used to debating and deliberating over something, Anxiously going over the various pros and cons to determine the best choice and outcome most suited to him.
In contrast, joining Soulnote hadn’t been any such decision. The ad had popped up as he’d been scrolling through social media late at night, as one does. Music has always been a love of Alex’s, and drumming has been a passion for many years despite the heavy dislike his parents share over it.
However, Alex has never really had anyone to talk about music with. His town had never been the most welcoming to him, for who he is, and Alex refused to change himself in light of that. It left him and most people at odds, especially his parents, and certainly left him bereft of people who’d want to talk with him. The thought of being able to talk about, and discuss, music with others was—enticing, to say the least.
(The truth is that music has always been something Alex could turn to, even at his most anxious. Music had wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and told him that he, as he is, is more than enough. But, more importantly, Alex found himself and a community through music. When he first realised he wasn’t straight, he’d done his best to ignore the very idea. Now, though, years later, he’s out and proud—and he has music to thank for that.)
Signing up is simple, simpler than it should be, and Alex wonders just who he might be paired with. He’s not going to hide himself and who he is, not ever again, but the thought is there—will these people accept him as he is?
When the group is at last formed, it’s with trepidation that Alex opens the messages. However, in wake of introductions complete with pronouns, Alex feels less stressed about it. Still nervous, certainly, but he has a good feeling about this, about all of them. And… And maybe Soulnote is a kind of matchmaker, though he still finds their claim of pairing people with their musical soulmates is weird, he’s hopeful.
There’s a flurry of information to be learnt over the first few days of their pairing. They’re a group of four, each with a different focus for the most part. One of the first things Alex learns, other than their names and pronouns, is their ages.
Of all of them, Alex is the oldest and turning eighteen soon. Thankfully, though, Luke’s only a month younger born in August and is also out of school. Julie’s not the youngest, but she is the only one still at school, since Reggie finished school early—which he shyly admits to like he expects some negative response.
(Alex wonders at that, just a little. He knows not everyone is like him, that some people have good families, but there’s something about the way Reggie seems to wither, exclamation marks becoming less and less common, far too often whenever an achievement of his own is brought up. And, look, Alex might not know any of them very well—but he can already tell that Reggie is an amazing person who deserves far better than he gets.)
From ages, they talk about interests and daily lives and-
And it’s great, except there’s one problem. Music isn’t a common topic. Granted, Luke tries and seems incapable of not turning a conversation into something about music, even if only tangentially. Except, whenever that happens, Julie seems to duck out of the conversation, claiming to have something or another on even though Alex is fairly certain she doesn’t.
He doesn’t- doesn’t think it’s him. But he doesn’t know what to think. It’s a little bit irritating, though, because he joined the website for music and he’s getting-
Well, he’s getting something, it’s just not music.
“So let me get this right,” Flynn says as Julie lies facedown in the carpet, intent on smothering herself. “You haven’t yet talked about music in the music group you joined because you keep bailing whenever the topic comes up?”
“Yes,” Julie mumbles into the carpet.
(She’d always known that this would be hard, but she’d somehow hoped that Flynn pushing her into this thing would make it actually work and that she’d end up loving music again. Only it hasn’t, because it turns out the only thing stopping Julie is Julie and she doesn’t know how to stop herself.)
Flynn hums and Julie rolls over so that she can breathe in something other than musty carpet. Above, the ceiling stares down at her with judgement. She drops an arm over her eyes so doesn’t have to see, and also so she doesn’t get blinded from the light coming through the window that is far too bright in her opinion.
There’s silence for a moment or two longer, before Flynn says, “Can you talk me through the problem? Where do you find things failing?”
These questions are ones that Julie has been asked countless times, and has asked herself. It’s their way—Flynn and Julie’s way—of checking in with each other, trying to determine the problem and find a solution for it.
It doesn’t always work, but it’s something to stand on, when all else fails.
(These questions can’t work for everything, though, which the pair of them now know all too well. Flynn couldn’t fix Julie’s grief, couldn’t take the mourning from her, she could only be there and suffer through the aftermath together.)
Gathering her thoughts, Julie attempts to make them into something understandable that’s more than just a tangle of feelings in her chest. It works—kind of.
“I’m… I’ve always shared music with mum, you know? Some of my first memories is just of her humming. I don’t…” Julie presses her lips together, swallowing. “I don’t want music to exist without her. I want it-”
“You want her,” Flynn says, voice soft, and Julie just nods, rubbing furiously at her eyes. It’s what Flynn expected, really, and what she’s thought might be the reason for Julie’s hesitation and avoidance.
(Because while Rose had been many things, a musician only one of those, she’d truly come to life with music. Flynn’s own memories of her heavily feature music, in some shape or form. It’s unsurprising that Julie associates her so closely with music. In light of that, though, music becomes grief—and that is the issue. To play is to acknowledge that she is gone, and won’t be coming back.)
(It’s been a year, but a year is hardly long enough.)
Exhaling softly, Flynn considers Julie, and her confession. How can they make music better? How can they fix this? Because Julie, much like her mum, comes alive with music. To lose that part of her… Well, it’d be Julie’s choice so Flynn won’t stand against it, but she’d love to see Julie play again, sing again, just enjoy music again.
“Maybe making new memories will help,” Flynn says, taking care to keep her voice soft. There’s no right way for this, no clear one, and she’s left in a sea, adrift without anyone nearby to help her. Still, though, she’ll go forward; it’s all she can do. “But, well, you don’t have to start by creating music, you know? Just—share tastes.”
Julie hums, doubtful. “Perhaps,” she says. “I just…” She trails off, shaking her head, and Flynn watches as her best friend’s expression crystallises into steady resolve. Julie lifts her chin and- and for a second, Flynn remembers all too clearly her best friend’s strength, (not that she ever forgets; but Julie’s grief, sometimes, seems a much stronger foe than Julie could ever hope to defeat; Flynn could certainly never). “The boys listen to music that I don’t,” she says. “I think I’ll start there.”
Smiling, Flynn thinks about how things might not be perfect but, just maybe, they might be alright again. She can’t wait until music becomes a part of Julie’s life again.
Before Soulnote and Alex and Julie and Luke, Reggie had been lonely, and he has no compunctions about admitting it. He’s out of school and just- just drifting. There’s no direction he can find, nothing he really wants to find, because even though he loves music, craves it with every cell in his body, it doesn’t really… do anything. Not as it is, at least. For all that Reggie scrawls notes and lyrics down, he can’t really go anywhere with them.
Not to say that it’s impossible! There are plenty of solo artists around, and a number of good country ones. It doesn’t feel right though, which is weird, but it’s the reason why Reggie just… waits and drifts. He’s waiting on something, though he has no idea what it could be.
And then he hears of Soulnote and learns of the concept of musical soulmates. It’s not quite destiny, it’s picked really, but… but it’s something. And Reggie likes the romance of the idea, just a little. There are so many stories of soulmates, of course, and he dislikes those on account of the lack of choice. Yet, at the same time, there’s something amazing about the possibility of there being someone out there who can match you, who will always be there for you.
So yes, Reggie’s lonely and missing people that don’t exist, wanting music to be more but thinking he’s waiting for something. As such, Soulnote isn’t just a fun thing to look into, it feels like a sign.
Reggie doesn’t quite believe in God or religion, but—people can be amazing, can be good, and he’s hopeful that maybe he can find someone who’ll like his music and talk to him so he won’t be so goddamned lonely.
Then again, it might not work. He might not get anything out of this. But, even in the event that that’s true, maybe they’ll be able to help him out with his current song, which is all he really needs.
(It’s not like Reggie’s always been settling, but he kind of has. But then, Reggie doesn’t think that. Rather, he believes—more often than not—that he’s just enough as is, if not someone who falls short of the mark.)
(There’s a reason why, if asked about his achievements, Reggie will look down and mumble about not having any, like he didn’t finish school early, like he doesn’t play more instruments than most people. Reggie will talk about his skills and claim he doesn’t have any. In this, he is wrong, but it will be a while yet before he unlearns such behaviours and habits.)
However, when he meets the people that Soulnote matches him too, he can’t help but think that they’re nice, but only nice. It’s like there’s nothing substantial to them. Julie is hesitant and slips away whenever music is raised, while Luke will hardly talk about anything else. The only kinship Reggie feels is with Alex, and only because the two of them spend far too much time smoothing things out between Luke and Julie.
(What Reggie won’t ever admit is that it makes him feel, just a little, like he’s caught in another argument of his parents, trying to interject and calm things over, even if it’s unwanted.)
But then, one day, without any warning, something changes.
Reggie doesn’t notice at first. He’s flicking through dog pictures on Instagram when his phone buzzes. It’s the third time his phone buzzes, somehow frantic, that he switches to the app. He blinks at the flood of messages that are appearing quickly. Attempting to read through the early ones quickly proves useless, so instead he taps out a question of what, exactly, had happened.
‘Julie likes music!!!!’ Luke says with more excitement than Reggie has previously seen from him.
Reggie laughs and- and he feels like something is changing here, as his phone buzzes in his hands.
‘Julie’ the person in question corrects, ‘asked for some music suggestions.’
At that, Reggie blinks, because Julie has kept herself as far apart from music as she possibly can—which is impressive, considering the amount of time Luke dedicates to speaking about it. Still, he gamely goes to Spotify and copies the link for his favourite country playlist, sharing it in Soulnote seconds later.
Luke responds with a grimacing face that has Reggie laughing again. He knows that Luke hates country music, though hasn’t quite figured out the reasons behind it. He’s hopeful that he’ll convince Luke that country music is good—it’s only a matter of time, after all.
Thankfully, Luke doesn’t respond about country music or his various complaints about it. Clearly, he’s taking advantage of the opportunity that Julie has given. He shares photos of CD cover after CD cover, the bands and album names somehow legible, even if nothing else in the photo is.
‘You know’ Alex’s message appears in a pause between CDs, ‘there is such thing as sharing links? Get with the 21st century Luke.’
Pressing a hand to his lips, Reggie muffles his laughter over Alex’s message. He’s noticed before that Luke has a habit of sharing pictures of music rather than links. They’ve had this discussion before, about technology in the 21st century and how, really, people don’t even use CDs anymore. Luke hadn’t appreciated the argument in the slightest, grumbling about how CDs had been there first and, as such, were increasingly more important. The fact that they weren’t used anymore was really just a travesty that Luke was determined to right, day by day.
The rant itself, Reggie had thought at the time—and still thinks, really, had been meme worthy.
Tongue sticking out between his teeth, Reggie types another message. ‘Alex, what r ur recs?’
There’s a second where Alex just appears to be writing, the message slowly loading as Reggie waits impatiently, swinging his legs as he does so. A minute or so later, Alex shares three links to Spotify songs that Reggie has heard of, except for one which he hasn’t. There’s something important about them, though he can’t remember what it is for the life of him.
Shrugging, he clicks play and lets the music surround him. And, well, maybe things hadn’t been perfect before—but Reggie feels a bit more hopeful about things now.