Infinite

This Band is Back

𝄆 ♫♪ 𝄇
Can you, can you hear me? (Loud and clear)
We gotta get, we gotta get ready ('Cause it's been years)
Woah, this band is back
Woah, this band is back
Woo-hoo, woo-hoo
Woo-hoo, woo-hoo
Woo-hoo, woo-hoo
𝄆 ♫♪ 𝄇

Julie stared at the guys, wondering what excuse they could possibly come up with that would cause her to forgive their actions. After their little barbershop quartet (well, technically, trio) apology, she'd softened, but not enough to forgive them.

"So, Julie, in the hopes that you'd rejoin the band, the three of us booked us a gig. Tonight. And there are huge VIPs and talent scouts and—" Luke started to ramble, but that didn't stop Julie from being mad at him.

"And this is super important to you?" Julie wondered. They all nodded, thinking they were about to hear a "yes" fall from her lips. "Well, so was playing at my school. And you couldn't bother to show up to that. I'm sorry, but I can't rejoin the band. Not when you're too focused on having fun to even bother with music. And what we had, it was good. It was great. But you were too wrapped up in that stupid club to care."

The only response to that was the three boys disappearing from Julie's sight. They poofed out to various places around Los Angeles. It was the only thing they could do to cope with the fact that, without Julie, they were just elevator music, nothing else. No one else could make them visible to the living world, and nothing else could replace the rush of performing or the beauty of creating music.

Mari, a half hour later, couldn't believe that she was standing in front of Flynn's house. It had been years—at least three—since she'd been there, due to the escalation of tensions between the two of them. It wasn't a big house, and with two nearly absent parents—thanks to jobs in hospital settings that often included enough overtime to sub in for a second job—Flynn tended to have friends over instead of family dinners.

"Hey, Flynn." Mari gave a half-smile to her new friend, hoping for a place to stay for the remainder of their high school career.

"Did you— did you really leave?" Flynn noticed the suitcase behind Mari, which was black and contrasted with her sky blue vest. "Oh my, I'm both proud and sad for you. What happened?"

"My step-mother's greed got the best of her. That's really what happened." Mari said it as if it wasn't something major, but it was. Her whole life had turned upside down in the last hour, and it hadn't sunk it yet for her. Nothing had really hit home about the whole situation, but it would eventually. The past always caught up to the present.

"Well, um, come in. Please. I'll get a room made up for you to stay in. You can head to the kitchen or the family room if you want. It shouldn't take me too long." Flynn pointed to the kitchen, which was also at the front of the house off to the left, and the family room, which was directly in front of the front door. "I'm making stir fry for dinner, and you're welcome to have some if you'd like."

"That sounds amazing." Mari took her suitcase and followed Flynn to the guest room and put down her suitcase. She helped Flynn, despite her protests otherwise, make the bed and get the room ready to be lived in. Mari couldn't help but assist Flynn, since the last thing she wanted was to feel like a guest.

"Settle in, do whatever you like with the room. Dinner should be done in a half hour, then we can watch Friends and binge on way too much ice cream." Flynn's sad smile managed to lift Mari's spirit slightly, just enough for her to get everything unpacked and into drawers in the closet that connected to the bedroom. It wasn't until she saw all of the clothes neatly tucked away that it all hit her.

And, boy, did it hit her.

A car would've hurt less. A train would've hurt less. Falling from the sky would've hurt less. And, yet, she couldn't make it disappear any quicker knowing that. Her emotions were running high—the feeling that her childhood was gone, her family officially gone. Her father and mother's memories would always live inside her, but it was nothing like living in the place that they'd all been made.