Chapter Text
Hux looked at his watch for the third time in five minutes, sighing into his coffee as he took a sip.
Of course the man was late. Even if Hux hadn’t seen Ben in two years, he should have known that Ben could not have possibly changed his perpetually-late ways. He’d had the habit for as long as Hux had known him, and probably even long before then too. It didn’t matter that Ben had said the matter was “urgent” - which was strange enough for not having texted each other in years - he would keep Hux waiting no less than ten minutes before sauntering into the cafe. Like he always did.
Like he had always done, Hux corrected himself. Those days were long gone.
Fortunately, Ben had texted and asked to meet up on Hux’s morning off. He was planning on using the time to tweak his latest composition before uploading it, but it wasn’t completely necessary - instead, he could listen to it now, reckoning he had at least another five minutes before Ben showed up. Hux pulled out his phone and headphones to listen to his newest Logic Pro render: a piece inspired by Halo 5 as an ‘alternative’ soundtrack. Though he didn’t play the game himself, his YouTube subscribers had heavily requested it. ‘ Yo @StarkillerMusic, you should do one of your revamps of the Halo 5 soundtrack!’ ‘your music is always so epic. listened to it while playing halo 5, your style goes great with it.’ ‘can u PLEASE do Halo 5??’ ‘@StarkillerMusic request: maybe Halo 5 or Fallout 4? you ROCK dude.’
Even though he certainly had a long way to go before becoming the next John Williams, he was still doing what he loved - composing music. As far as Hux was concerned, that was putting his Bachelor’s in Composition to good use (no matter what his father said). Granted, he was also working two part-time jobs just to be able to make rent in New York City, but the revenue from his YouTube channel helped with his finances whenever bartending and cello tutoring couldn’t. So could he really complain?
Hux listened to all seven minutes of his Halo composition before allowing himself to look up this week’s charts again. Glancing over his shoulder to check that Ben or anyone he knew wasn’t around, he also checked the view count on the ‘Oil and Water’ video before quickly closing out of the app and locking his phone. At almost two million views, it was slowly becoming Hux’s most popular song. Not that anyone knew it was his; none of Hux’s real-life friends, not even Phasma, knew the real identity of the ‘The General’ - a producer who sold demos to young independent artists. Hux would sooner jump off a subway platform than admit he wrote romantic pop songs. To the people who knew him in real-life, he was a composer of soundtracks and grand orchestral pieces, not indie or pop.
If he sometimes had enough extra money to afford a round of drinks for his friends, no one questioned why and that suited him just fine.
“Hux,” a familiar baritone brought him back to reality, making him jump.
“Ben,” he nodded at the hulking figure sitting down across from him. Swallowing around the sudden lump in his throat, Hux somehow managed a civil “how are you?”
“Fine, okay,” Ben replied curtly, tugging off the wool grey scarf around his neck. His dark hair sprung free from being tucked into the scarf and he shook out the always-soft-looking locks as he looked back up at Hux. “You?”
“Alright. I see you finally learned how to dress for the weather,” Hux tried to joke, nodding at Ben’s scarf and the thick black jacket he was shrugging off. The weather was finally starting to turn, later than usual this year, but the wind in New York City always made it feel a few degrees colder than it actually was. Hux hoped Ben couldn’t hear how strained his voice felt, or how loudly his heart was thumping in his chest; deflecting tension with sarcasm was always Hux’s strong suit.
Draping the jacket on the back of the chair, Ben shrugged. “Rey made me wear it. Kept threatening she’d tell my mom to buy me a real winter jacket for Christmas if I get sick in this weather. And puffy down jackets don’t exactly go well with my aesthetic.”
Good. Ben was matching his sarcasm. This wouldn’t be as awkward as Hux thought it’d be.
“How’s, uh, how’s life?” Ben asked tentatively.
In an attempt to keep his hands busy, Hux picked up his now-cold coffee and sipped at it before he replied. “Not bad. Not exactly what I envisioned but we’re still young. Still got some ways to go.”
“You’ve, uh, got that YouTube channel, right? Starkiller?”
Hux tried to keep the surprise out of his voice. He’d started Starkiller Music after moving out of the cramped three (but in reality two) bedroom apartment they’d shared with their four friends. Rey had probably told Ben - though Hux couldn’t think why, considering the circumstances surrounding his moving out.
“Yes. It’s going, maybe not extremely well, but it’s definitely going. It doesn’t pay rent but it helps.” Hux cleared his throat. “You? Still on Soundcloud?”
Hux knew the answer. He just didn’t want Ben to know he did.
“Nah, since they started their whole Soundcloud Pro thing it’s gone down in popularity so, I haven't really been using it.”
Hux nodded, pretending he wasn’t subscribed to Kylo_Ren on Soundcloud. Or had notifications for him set up on Twitter. “Thank goodness for the internet, right?”
Ben offered him a small smile. “Right.”
Willing his skin not to flush at the sight of that smile, Hux reached into his messenger bag for his wallet. “Can I get you a coffee? Or do you want to delve into this urgent matter right now?”
“I’m good, thanks,” Ben waved him off. “I stopped drinking coffee. I’ll just get a tea and then we’ll talk. Want anything?”
Hux shook his head as Ben got up and headed for the counter. On one hand, it was nice to know things weren’t awkward with Ben - they were actually having what felt like a normal, civil conversation. On the other hand, it was not so nice to know that Ben could still affect Hux how he did those years ago. He had hoped that he would have grown out of it by now; it would mean he up and left his old life for nothing.
He shoved the thought out of his mind. It’d been two and a half years. Normal people moved on with their lives. Hux was just… not normal. That was all.
“So,” Ben sat across from Hux again, this time a steaming mug of a deep pink-coloured herbal tea in his hands. “The urgent matter.”
“Yes, right. I’m listening,” Hux said as he lifted his own cold mug to his lips again.
“I’m getting the band back together.”
Hux tried not to choke on his coffee. Maybe some people didn’t move on with their lives. “What did you say?”
“I’m getting the band back together,” Ben shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Hux stared at Ben for a long moment, Ben holding his gaze innocently.
“Ben,” Hux sighed, realising how serious Ben was. “Why would a bunch of classically trained musicians reform their college cover band?”
“Because we won’t be a cover band, we’ll do our own songs. And we’re all itching for some creative outlet, a new grand venture into the world of music, one way or another.”
“Ben,” Hux said exasperatedly. “We’re all doing things to do with music. We don’t need a creative outlet. Phasma is a literally a pianist. She gets paid to be one. One of my jobs is literally music. Actually, two if you count Starkiller. I tutor cello and compose. That’s two. Rey teaches music, too.”
“Those are jobs. I’m talking about something for ourselves. If we can record something to sell or book a few gigs, that’s just a bonus.” Ben smirked like he’d done all the math already and it all checked out. “Besides, Phasma is a pianist in a jazz bar. You know she wants more than that. You know she’s just itching for somewhere to release her inner Yiruma.”
Hux frowned. Ben did have a point about Phasma. But by no means did that logic apply to him.
“Fine, great,” Hux put up his hands in surrender. “Get the band back together, do what you want.”
Ben beamed at him. “So you’re in?”
“God, no. You don’t need me for the Knights of Ren reunion.”
Pouting, Ben shook his head. “No, we do.”
“Why does this have to involve me?” Hux sighed. “Why do you want me in on this? And don’t tell me it’s because I’m the only one with perfect pitch. Poe used that excuse on me the first time and all I ended up doing was the arrangements and managing all of your asses.”
“And what a great manager you were,” Ben grinned, “we wouldn’t have gotten half the gigs or made half the money we did if you weren’t on top of that.”
Undeterred by Ben’s humour, Hux’s tone was colder than he intended it to be. “Still doesn’t answer my question.”
This time Ben sighed. “I don’t want you to manage us, Hux. I want you to write songs for us.”
“Songs?” Hux scoffed, trying to sound as offended as he could. “Come on, Ben, you know I don’t write songs. I only -”
“Compose pieces of music. Instrumentations. Orchestral suites. Yeah, yeah, I know. How could I forget? You composed half a symphony for your senior thesis.”
“Then why are you -”
Ben silenced him with a finger and pulled out his phone.
Hux had a very bad idea of where this was going.
“I’m asking you because of this,” Ben said, putting his phone down on the table to show Hux its screen.
Which displayed the cover art for ‘Oil and Water.’
Hux gulped. “What is that? Some pop song?” He prayed his eyes weren’t betraying his current emotions. He also prayed for a black hole to swallow him up right there.
“Come on, Hux, you know what that is.” Ben paused, holding Hux’s eyes in an intense stare. “Or should I call you General?”
“Ben,” Hux forced a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound fake. “You’ve gone mad.”
Ben narrowed his eyes at him. “Hux. You literally cannot lie to me. I know you.”
His mirthless laugh evaporated on his lips and his chest felt suddenly tight. “Even after all this time?”
Leaning back in his chair, Ben folded his arms over his chest almost smugly. “Some things never change. You are one of them.”
Hux would never admit aloud how many ways Ben was right.
He remained quiet for a moment, finally sighing and leaning back to mimic Ben’s position. “How do you know?”
“Please,” Ben scoffed. “I lived through four years of being your roommate. That package included listening to literally thousands of hours of your compositions and 'experiments.' I know your style.” He shrugged with one shoulder. “Besides, the melody is astonishingly similar to one of your old pieces. Not one that you ever rendered and used somewhere, but I still recognised it.”
“Right, well. No use in hiding it if you know. But I only do that on the side. Very occasionally. And only to get over a block with my regular work.” That wasn’t necessarily true, but Ben didn’t need to know that.
“It’s good, though,” Ben insisted. “Your lyrics might need some work but the music itself is good. Imagine how good it could be if you actually put more effort into it than you claim to be doing?”
Hux sighed. He begrudgingly knew Ben was right. “And you want me to write songs for the Knights?”
“No. Well, yes, but we’re not sticking with that name. This is something new, not just a rehash of our college selves.”
“We?” Hux raised an eyebrow. “The others agreed already?”
Ben nodded. “Yes. And they also want you involved.”
Hux felt the blood drain from his face. “Do they know about the General too?”
“No!” Ben shook his head, obviously concerned with Hux’s sudden change in pallor. “I haven’t told anyone. They just think you’d be good at it. Since, you know, you were really good with the arrangements back in the day.”
“Okay,” Hux released the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “Thank you.”
Silence settled over the two of them as they stared at each other for a long moment.
“Just try it for a little bit, Hux. A few weeks, at least,” Ben pleaded quietly.
Hux swore at himself as he took in the sight in front of him - Ben’s imploring eyes, the slight pout of his bottom lip - and let the request hang in the air between them for a moment. He hated himself for not being able to say no. He never could refuse Ben anything.
“Fine,” Hux exhaled. “I’ll have to move around some tutoring sessions and work double shifts at the bar to free up a few nights, but fine. Only! On the condition no one finds out about the General.”
A wide grin stretched across Ben’s face, reaching his no-longer sad eyes. “Deal.”
***
Armitage Hux discovered his passion and talent for music completely by chance.
At age four, Hux’s parents decided to get divorced. His mother Eleanor had had enough of his father Brendol and the old family estate in Northern Ireland, so she returned to her hometown just outside of Boston, Massachusetts. Though Eleanor had tried to take her son with her, somehow the Commandant’s attorney Mercurial Swift managed to keep Hux in his father’s grasp. As soon as the ink on the divorce papers had dried, Brendol’s mistress Maratelle became Hux’s stepmother and the newly official couple shipped him off to a boarding school three hours away from the estate - close enough to visit frequently yet far enough to warrant boarding.
Hux could never bring himself to be sad over these events. After all, it was at boarding school where he first touched a piano and eventually, when he was old enough, where he first brought a bow to a cello’s strings.
To young Armitage, music came to him when his world had turned upside down and when he’d needed it most. He seized the opportunity immediately, diving headfirst into the world of music - within two years he was taking more difficult music theory classes with older students. Theory classes were his favourite, but mainly because his teacher, Rae Sloane, was also his cello tutor. Even better was that Hux’s enthusiasm for music behooved Brendol completely. Brendol, who did not know the difference between Mozart and Beethoven, nor between baroque opera and classical symphony. Eleanor, an artist herself, was the opposite - she was delighted her son was taking after her more than his father, and was the one who bought Hux’s first cello. He never told Brendol this, of course, because Brendol fully expected Hux to “grow out of this phase” and become an engineer or something similar, something “with actual substance” as Brendol put it. Hux kept good grades in everything to appease Brendol because an unsatisfied Commandant meant more time at home for reprimanding, which would cut into Hux’s precious practice hours. But between studying and music, Hux had little time for friends.
Hux had his first solo recital the year before he was to start high school. He made the mistake of challenging Brendol when his father hadn’t attended, and after a particularly severe scolding that ended in a shouting match and a sharp backhand, Hux had shown up at Eleanor’s house with his cello and a suitcase of his belongings. Eleanor finally got full custody in the aftermath and Hux was shipped off to New England for good by the end of the school year.
Just in time to attend summer camp.
Eleanor’s (and now Hux’s) hometown had two music schools, and it was expected to attend their summer camp in order to enroll in the fall. Choosing between the two was the only decision Eleanor ever let Brendol have a say in, but only because First Order Conservatory was run by an old acquaintance of his - former Maestro Snoke. It was at camp that Hux made his first friends: Phasma the pianist, whose own parents were British expats, and Finn the violinist.
Not too long afterwards, Hux met the rest of the friends that would shape his life for years to come: Poe the classical guitarist, Rey the percussionist, and Ben the vocalist.
***
“When exactly were you going to tell me about this, Phas?” Hux slammed his door shut, hanging his keys on the command hook stuck to the wall by the door and kicking off his shoes as he entered the apartment.
“So I take it you spoke to Ben.”
Phasma, despite being Hux’s oldest and arguably closest friend, was sometimes his most frustrating. She was the tallest of their group - often drawing attention to the height difference by perpetually wearing shoes with heels or wedges - and if her striking beauty wasn’t enough, her mind was as sharp as a butcher’s knife. She was a wizard on the piano, she could read people as if they were open books, and she could scheme like nobody’s business (though, usually her schemes involved anybody but herself). So if she withheld information from Hux, there was obviously a reason.
“You assume correctly.” Hux balanced the phone between his cheek and shoulder on one side and then the next as he shrugged off his jacket. “How long have you known?”
“About a week.”
“Evelyn Phasma Mills. I saw you yesterday. Yesterday! You couldn’t warn me?”
It sounded like Phasma was chuckling across the line, but Hux couldn’t quite tell through the phone. “Ben specifically asked none of us to tell you. He wanted to talk to you himself. And no one would ever risk Ben’s wrath.”
Hux snorted in response. Stooping to pet Millicent’s head (after the cat had finally made an appearance from under the bed), Hux made his way across the studio apartment towards his kitchenette. “But this all just seems so… sudden.”
Phasma remained quiet for a moment.
“Phas? You still there?”
“Yes, yes I am. And it… It’s not quite as sudden as you’d think.”
“What,” Hux scoffed, “on Earth could you possibly mean by that?” He started to dig around in his fridge for some dinner, grimacing as he found a half rotten zucchini and a stale end piece of bread among the various take-out containers.
“Armitage,” Phasma admonished, “don’t sound so surprised that I kept in touch with him. You’re the one that asked me to not share stuff about him with you.”
Hux hummed a noncommittal response as he threw the old food into his trash and pulled out a tupperware of leftover miso soup to stick in the microwave.
“Hux?” Phasma said, her tone careful.
“I’m here, Phas.”
“You said yes, didn’t you?”
“Well, we’re apparently all meeting up at Poe, Finn, and Rey’s on Sunday night to hammer out details. So, obviously.”
“Are you…” she hesitated. “Are you going to be alright?”
Hux watched the miso soup rotating in the microwave as it heated up, asking himself the question for the first time since reading Ben’s text that morning.
He did miss his friends. Even though he still saw Rey, Finn, Poe, and Phasma from time to time (though mostly Phasma and Rey), it wasn’t the same. He may have tried to move on from that life, tried to establish his own in the world, but Hux had to admit he missed playing music with his friends. There was something that thrilled him about getting the band back together, something that his repetitive cycle of work-tutor-compose couldn’t give him. But for Hux it was a win-lose situation; he was getting something of his old life back, yet he was risking his heart.
Because coffee that morning had made him come to the realisation: three years on, he was still fucking in love with Ben Organa-Solo. Just seeing him, barely a meter away across the table, had transported Hux back to the night he first realised it; which was also the night he’d decided to move out.
He was older now - he could deal with it, right? The six of them had all been friends for so long and known each other for even longer; Hux had to make this ‘new’ band work or he would probably mess their friendship up more than he already had. And that was the last thing he wanted to do.
He glanced at the picture taped to his fridge, the only decoration in his apartment, of the six of them at their Juilliard graduation. Hux decided he wouldn’t screw up this up. He owed his friends that much.
“Armie?”
“I’ll make it work, Phas.”