STARDUST ⭑ LUKE PATTERSON

seven and a half

SUNSET CURVE HAD JUST REHEARSED THEIR SET LIST FOR THE ORPHEUM BACK IN 1995. Emmy watches from the side of the stage, heart beaming at the sight of Luke bouncing up and down and singing with everything he has.

All of them had come so far from the garage that they practiced in, and Emmy got a front row seat to all of it. By the time their rehearsal was over, all the band members sprinted towards her, Luke reaching her first and wrapping his arms around her torso, picking her up and spinning her around. Reggie crashes into them afterwards, head jumping up and down against them. Then, Alex. Then, Bobby.

Usually, Emmy hated touching, especially when they were drenched in sweat and smelt like pigs, but she welcomed it. She found her arm encircling Luke's torso, squeezing him tight, and he simply smiles into her purple hair in response.

"I'm so proud of you guys," she tells them. They could barely hear her from her muffled voice against Luke's shoulder.

"We wouldn't be here without your songs," Bobby states, ruffling her already messy hair.

"Celebrate with some hotdogs?" Luke questions before all of them shout screams of agreement in response. "Let me get changed first," he adds, linking his fingers with Emmy's and running off to the dressing room.

The other three watch them go, Alex shaking his head in mock disapproval. "I wasn't aware Luke needed Emmy's help to change," he says.

Reggie tsks at him, slapping him lightly on the chest. "No, she just does the undressing."

Meanwhile, Luke and Emmy were in their own little world, Luke peeling off his drenched t-shirt to slip on a more comfortable sweatshirt for the cold weather outside.

"Can you believe we're playing the Orpheum tonight?" he says, throwing himself onto the couch, head resting in Emmy's lap as he did. "We made it, Em. We're gonna be rockstars."

Just like she always did, Emmy's fingers found their way to his hair, and although soaked with sweat, she ran her nails across his scalp. Like magic, he leans into her touch, smiling dopily at her.

"I have a present for you," Luke continues, tearing himself away from her, even if he really didn't want to. He dashes over to his bag in the corner, throwing off piles of clothes that were covering his belongings. Emmy perches herself on the back of the couch, her breath hitching in her throat when Luke returns, settling himself in the space between her legs.

"Don't laugh, okay?" he starts.

"I'm literally going to cackle."

He pinches her side with the hand not holding the poorly wrapped gift. She squirms into him, his grin growing as she had to use his shoulders to steady himself.

"Open it," he tells her. Delicately, she unwraps his packaging to be met with a velvet, gray box.

"Are you proposing?" Emmy teases.

"I would never marry you," he retorts, and she only throws her head back in laughter.

"Til death due us part," she declares. He couldn't help but blush intensely, trying to hide it by looking down and nudging her to open the box.

Inside it sat a small cotton plush toy that looked like it was sewn together in the worst factory. A subtle gasp leaves Emmy's lips as she inspects it further, realizing the orange beanie adorning it's head. "Is this ugly thing supposed to be you?" she squeaks, holding the present in her hand. It fit in her palm.