Alex was the first one to greet me when I poofed back to the studio. "Welcome back, sis."
I pulled off my olive sweater, leaving me on my white Sunset Curve t-shirt. "Hey, guys."
Reggie didn't lift his eyes from his bass. "Where'd you run off to?"
"Oh, y'know, Luke stuff. He needed closure with his family." I grunted as I kicked my boots towards the couch. They look amazing on and off stage, but the right sole is broken. Mom just had to give me Alex's hand me downs.
"Closure? Yeah, right. You wanted to spend time with him. Writing a secret song, maybe? Or sneaking off to eat pizza?" He poked my ribs as a threat.
I rolled my eyes. "We can't eat pizza... or regular food, for that matter..."
Alex flew his hand into his mouth, then he flashed a grin. "Oh my god. Is... is the Reginald Peter jealous? And of Luke of all people! What is going on?" I just stayed silent, hoping they wouldn't notice my blushing. Why does he keep embarassing me?
Reggie jumped from the couch, face redder than a tomato. "W-what? No, no, no! You're imagining things. I, uh, you're crazy, people."
"M'kayyyy. Very awkward moment. Let's just pretend nothing happened and change the subject," I nervously interrupted. I don't wanna talk about our awkward relationship when we're caressing death.
"Agreed," Reg snapped his fingers.
"Let's see... Oh! What did Carlos have to say about us?" I sat on the available chair. Before I left, he was talking about a discovery related to his haunted house. What was running in that little kid's mind?
My brother responded: "He thinks we're a chef looking for revenge on our original French dip recipe."
"A chef?" I scoffed. "Given your almost-burning-our-house record, I'm glad it's not true."
"Hey!" His head almost snapped by how fast he turned. "That was one time, okay? Stop bringing it up!"
"Nuh-uh. If we count the accidents in Bobby's house, that'd be, like..." I mentally counted, taking my sweet time, "another three." How they managed to almost burn kitchens and survive is astounding. FYI: assigning the boys the cake portion of birthdays is the worst idea I've had. And I did that twice... because one time wasn't enough for me to learn. My fourteenth birthday cake replaced the cooking charcoal.
Reggie shrugged. "I like Carlos' theory more than what we actually are. I love French dip."
Then, a jolt attacked the three of us. I don't know how they continue to hurt deeper and last longer. For instance, this time, I dropped to my knees.
I grabbed the table for support and so that I could stand up. "We're doomed."
Alex sighed. "The faster we admit our inevitable demise, the less it will hurt."
"Speak for yourself, I'm re-dying over here!" the bassist grunted.
¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫
After Luke joined us, things went pretty quiet. He had told Jules about our ghost club situation, so, in the minimum, we wouldn't have to lie or disappear without trace.
I rested my head on his arm while I did a horrible sketch of Alex balancing a drumstick on his nose. Reggie, on the other hand, stared into nothing, plucking and clutching his shiny red instrument.
Suddenly, Julie opened the garage door. We didn't notice her until she screamed: "Snap out of it!"
A drumstick landed on my head, but the sound of my brother landing on the floor made me forgive the incident. "Jeez, I think you broke Alex."
Great, my model had moved. I ripped the page from the notebook, knowing my drawing was horrible anyways. "I was halfway done."
"Do you guys want to cross over or what?" The guitarist shoved my brother back to the couch, but that was our only movement. When we didn't respond, Julie proceeded to start clapping. "Get it together!"
"They're never gonna let us play the Orpheum," I said matter-of-factly. We dedicated a big part of our lives to get a gig. Imagine how hard it's gonna be to get another in less time.
"We're nobody," Alex added; another factor to take in consideration.
"We're less than nobody. We have no bodies." Luke snapped his finger in agreement.
"Someone once told me that you don't ask for permission. You book gigs by doing." Using our own words against us? That's rather harsh. She's serious about this.
Reggie smiled at a possibly fake memory. "That was me."
"No, it wasn't," Julie responded.
"No, it wasn't," Luke echoed.
"Yes, it was." He started pouting. I just tapped his knee as comfort.
Julie could flip a table if necessary; she really wanted us to fight. "This isn't over. We were brought together for a reason: to help each other."
Alex rested his right leg on the table. "Yeah, but like Luke said, people don't just play the Orpheum because they want to."
A spark glinted in her eyes. "People don't, but ghosts do."
After she mentioned that, I leaped from the floor. "A plan may have just formed in my mind, but we're gonna need help. And a ton of luck." Finger crossed this works.
Our friend crossed her arms in triumph. "Awesome, when do we start?"
¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫
Phase 1 consisted of talking to an unlike ally. As we discussed, we'd meet in front of the Orpheum to check if things were going to plan. "Look, don't worry guys. Willie said he'd get us on that marquee."
"This is gonna work, right?" Reggie pondered.
"It has to." And them bam! Another horrible jolt. I'm getting tired of this.
Willie appeared in front of us. "Hey, you guys okay?"
"Yeah, it's nothing we haven't felt before," I joked.
"How'd it go?" Alex questioned.
"Well, when that opening band wakes up, they're gonna find their bus 200 miles outside of Vegas with no chance of getting back there." He spun to reveal a 'Sandslide' jacket, the band who we were replacing.
Luke gave him a high five. "And that means there's probably a promoter upstairs right about freakin' out."
He laughed. "Nah, this is Hollywood, man. I'm sure he's being very professional."
Willie seemed like he desired a conversation with my brother in private, so we gave them a little bit of space. We reunited once we heard the skateboard wheels rolling. Reggie broke the silence. "Alex, you all right, man?"
It took him a while to respond. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay."
A new wave of hope burst in us. We might actually pull this off. "Well, thanks to Willie, Panic! At The Disco needs a new opening band."
"Then I guess someone up there needs to know we're available."
I rubbed my palms together. "Phase 2 is a go!"
We poofed into the offices. First, we saw the proclaimed 'calm' promoter. He slammed his telephone like his life depended on it. I feel bad for the assistant on her computer.
"Yeah, Willie was right. This guy's a total pro," Reg read my mind.
"All right, boys and girl. Let the magic happen. Alex, no dancing." Of course, that was the cue for Alex to be the most dramatic ballet dancer in LA, if not the whole country.
He gracefully hopped to the other side of the assistant's desk, knocking a pen holder in the process. When she went to pick it up, Reggie quickly typed our video while Alex wrote down Julie's number.
"She's coming. She's coming!" Luke warned. Edge of Great played, and it seemed to catch her attention.
"Tasha! Get me CJ. Tell him I need a band to open in three hours," her boss yelled.
She responded with a grin. "Sure, but you might wanna check this out."
"What? I'll call you back." The manager hung up and came rushing towards the computer. I hope Tasha gets a raise after this, she deserves it.
We huddle up around her as she got the pleasure of introducing us. "Somehow, this video started playing on my laptop. It's got half a million hits in just two days."
His screaming was replaced by a wide-opened mouth. "Who are they?"
"They're a hologram band. They call themselves... Julie and the Phantoms," she read off the screen.
Due to habit, Reg uttered: "Tell your friends."
The weight in his shoulders metaphorically disappeared. "W-where are they located?"
"Our very own City of Angels." I shaked my brother's arm because of the nerves. He's used to my random spurts of energy, so he doesn't mind when I almost jank it off... or at least I think so.
"Book 'em!"
"Yes!" We started smiling and hugging each other. We're halfway there!
"Sure, I just don't know how to..." contact them? We've got you covered. She spotted the sticky note with a phone number that wasn't there before.
"Your handwriting is better than mine," Luke admitted.
I turned to the pouting guitarist. "No disrespect to Reggie, but everyone's handwriting is better than yours."
♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩
Author's note:
The finale is sooo close! Buckle up guys, gals, and nonbinary pals, 'cause it might get emotional... or not. You'll have to wait and see *wink*
~ Winter ❅