Archive of Our Own ^beta

Luke had always been a musical child. As far back as he could remember, he’d always been interested in, and thoroughly enjoyed the art of music. He’d always liked music; following beats with a bop of his head, or tapping his foot along.

He liked to sing as well, blaring the words at the top of his lungs, following vocally with whichever artist, or band happened to be playing. He was high pitched, and could barely follow the tune in his younger years, but he loved it nonetheless.

His mother was always playing her favorite songs when he was little—there was rarely a day Luke didn’t remember something playing on the record player in his parent’s bedroom, or the cassette player in the living room.

He grew up knowing the basics of what has popular, well, at least tuned to his mother’s taste. They had organized drawers of cassettes and records that Luke hadn’t really been allowed to touch in his early childhood years, but that didn’t matter, because his mother never failed to have something playing as white noise.

When Luke was four years old, his family got their first CD player. Far superior to the cassette player, or the record player they’d had before. He could actually touch the CD player, because CDs were nowhere near as finicky as the records or cassettes.

They weren’t a rich family by any means, but they always managed to scrape enough together to make Christmas’ and birthdays something special-- and this year just so happened to be the highly sought-after CD player.

His father had gifted it to his mother for Christmas, and as soon as Luke caught sight of it, everything he’d gotten from his parents, and Santa Claus was long forgotten as he pushed his way through the wrapping paper tossed carelessly on the floor to pull himself into his mother’s lap and gape over the amazing present with her.

His father had chuckled as the two stared in awe over the player, talking hushed between them as they pointed out different features on the box. He’d been sure to snap a couple pictures as keep sakes for later down the road.

Luke rambled aimlessly, in excited four-year-old gibberish, animatedly pointing things on the box out to his mother, who nodded back completely serious. She’d always made him feel heard, even if she didn’t quite pick up what he was saying through his excitement.

He may have been four years old, but he knew it was the most amazing present his dad could’ve gotten for his mom. And even if it was really his mother’s gift, Luke knew it was more a family gift than it was an individual’s gift, unlike the toy cars and action figures still boxed and waiting for the four-year-old to tear into.

Needless to say, the family of three spent most of Christmas day that year singing and dancing to the four CDs of Luke’s mother’s favorite music, that his dad had picked out to accompany the player, on her new CD player.

Luke grinned brightly as his mother twirled him around the room, lifting him up and cuddling him close as she swayed them back and forth in beat with the song. Luke belted the lyrics, seventy-five-percent correct, as his parents danced together. He squished himself between the two of them, so, his dad lifted him up, sandwiching the giggling boy between his two-favorite people.

Everyone was smiling and laughing, and so completely happy. Brought together through music, and it was at that moment that Luke knew he really loved music.

Over the years, the family collected more and more CDs. A vast selection of everything—current pop music, to classic rock, to country music. And Luke loved it all. He definitely had favorites, but he could get behind whatever his mother happened to choose that day. There was rarely a day where the beloved CD player didn’t get a chance to shine in the Patterson household.

And all the while, Luke fell deeper and deeper into his love of music. He talked on, and on about each selection of music they had, learning the words to everything, and tapping his little hands against the coffee table, or dancing around the room as he sang.

A small part of that was singing and dancing around to make his mother smile, but the other, larger percent of it was just Luke getting completely lost in the songs.

His mother adored how much Luke loved the music, since he’d never really been a kid to stick with one specific thing for too long, and tended to get bored very easily.

How could a mother not love her kid getting obsessed with something that wasn’t the newest video game consoles-- like the Nintendo Entertainment System, and the new Gameboy device-- that were rotting away children’s brains.

There was really nothing better than watching Luke dancing around the house, singing the songs while he did his homework, or helped her in the kitchen. It was rare to see a child so invested in something—especially something not related to regular kid things.

Music genuinely made the boy happy, and that’s all a mother could really want for her child.

When Luke was eight years old, he begged and begged for a Walkman tape player. The portable cassette player that had taken the world by storm. His ninth birthday was just around the corner, and an ad plastered on a shop’s window had caught his attention.

The family had many, many cassettes buried in the house, hidden away-- replaced by the much easier to function CDs. Especially with a musically enthused child who wasn’t exactly gentle living in the house and constantly wanting something filling the silence.

The record player in the master bedroom had always been off limits, but Luke somehow always managed to get his hands on the cassettes. Which was why that was all hidden away and replaced with the CD player that they weren’t quite as protective about. They could always wipe away the little fingerprints on the CDs in the end.

A Walkman wasn’t a normal thing an eight-year-old would really be asking for— no one she knew who had little ones around Luke’s age had even mentioned odd requests like this one.

It surprised her, really—Emily had been prepared to talk Mitch into a Gameboy for Luke’s birthday present, just since he’d come home raving about the new one Alex had received for his birthday months prior. As far as she knew, Alex had let Luke have a turn too, bless his little heart, and Luke had been completely enthralled by the handheld device. So, to hear her son asking for a Walkman threw her for a loop.

She, of course, said no right off the bat. Though not the first year the Walkman had been out, it was still very expensive for a family living paycheck to paycheck.

Luke’s face had fallen, pout bordering on a heavy frown that broke his mother’s heart.

He’d thought that the Walkman would’ve been the best gift. He loved his mother’s music taste, and would dutifully sit with her and listen to whatever she wanted to play, but his taste was leaning more towards rock. Luke knew his mother wasn’t as big on rock as he was.

Luke had never been one to complain though—he knew things were tight money wise, and that his family wasn't as well off as Alex’s, so he forced a grin onto his face, and instead asked for the newest action figure he’d seen on a television ad.

Two weeks later, with Alex in tow for a small gathering for Luke’s birthday (just Alex, really, since he'd had a party with his school friends days prior), Luke gaped down at the Walkman he’d just unwrapped. Alex leaned over Luke’s arm to see the gift, before he was grinning widely at his friend.

It had been the only thing Luke had been talking about for weeks, and honestly, Alex was getting fed up with the constant mention of the Walkman Luke wanted. Who knew you could get bored of your best friend struggling to do the math of how long he’d need to save his allowance (well over four years, they’d decided in the end) in order to be able to afford a Walkman?

“Thank you, thank you, thank youuu!” Luke jumped up from his spot at the couch, carefully passing off his new toy to Alex to look over before bouncing across the room and throwing his arms around his parent’s shoulders, hugging the both of them. “I love it,” he told them, as if the wide smile on his face didn’t express his adoration for both his new Walkman and his parents as well.

His mother hugged him back, squeezing him tight, as his father patted Luke’s back.

“Why don’t you open it?” Emily suggested fondly, “dad'll go get the tapes from the basement, alright? You can pick through, and take the ones you like.”

“Yes!” Luke grinned, pressing a kiss to his mother’s cheek and nuzzling briefly against his father’s before he was pulling back and launching himself onto the couch beside Alex, where the two of them started unboxing Luke’s newest toy.

Luke spent the rest of his birthday digging through the box of cassettes with Alex and picking out the ones he liked the most. They shared the headset, passing it back and forth as the other picked out the next cassette they’d play.

It was the best birthday Luke had ever had.

With his own Walkman, he could play whatever he wanted, whenever, and where ever. That just meant that Luke and music were practically inseparable at this point. Well, unless he got grounded.

Where most kids lost their Gameboy, or their ability to go outside and play with their friends in a house grounding, Luke lost his Walkman and his music.

Needless to say, he tried much harder on tests in school than he had before.

Luke spent so much time with his Walkman—lounging on his bed listening, singing while he did his chores (his mother laughed at him, because only he could hear the music, but everyone could hear him singing). Listening to his while he walked to, or home from school.

It really had been the perfect gift for Luke, and Emily was so happy she’d managed to get her husband on board with the gift. The smile on Luke’s face had warmed her heart, and she was just happy that music made him as happy as it did.

When Luke was ten years old, his parents bought him a guitar for Christmas.

A big, beautiful electric guitar that he could barely hold in his small hands. It sat uncomfortably in his lap, and he struggled to wrap around the far too big for his small frame instrument in order to play it. He was on the smaller side for ten, but hopefully puberty would change that, like everyone kept promising him it would.

The struggle barely fazed him though-- it didn’t stop him from memorizing the ‘learn to play guitar’ books accompanying the instrument and amp on Christmas morning. Strumming his fingers red as he played. He hadn’t gotten a pick, so he’d have to get one later, but he couldn’t wait to play and a bit of finger pain was well worth it.

He played constantly. Hunched over the book, with the guitar cradled in his arms and sitting awkwardly in his lap, learning diligently and loving every second. It made his fingers blister and callus as he strummed and slid them from fret to fret on the neck of the guitar, but he adored it.

He loved it so much, it was perfect.

He hadn’t asked for the guitar—had never even thought of making his own music up until he had the instrument in his lap.

And, what made it even better was the drum kit Alex had been gifted for Christmas. Their parents had clearly plotted the gifts for the best friends together, since they’d both randomly received instruments, they’d only mentioned in passing.

Luke had been thrilled to see his friend playing round on the drum set the next time he went over to Alex’s house. Luke had brought his guitar with him, and Alex was just as interested in seeing Luke play his new instrument too.

Alex was far better at keep a rhythm than Luke had ever been, and had mention that the drums were the coolest instrument he’d seen. Luke had joked about the guitar, playing air guitar as Alex pounded the table in front of him like it had been a bongo drum.

Luke was happy to see his anxious friend get so into whaling on the drums—Alex had always been anxious and nervous, so it was nice to see him beating his emotions out—and Luke was more than happy to play his own frustrations through music along with him.

Little by little, Luke learned the guitar to all his favorite songs. He and Alex played together in the blond’s basement, jamming together and leaning things that already existed. They learned by ear, and added their own little improvements, and Alex had even been able to convince Luke to put one of his journal entries to song—which was how My Name Is Luke came to be.

It was their first song they’d written together.

They played it proudly for their parents, off keys and missing some notes, but the pride never waned at their first official song. Luke adored the praise they’d received from their parents and Alex’s siblings. It put Luke on cloud nine, and he was sure it was the same for Alex, if the blond boy’s glowing cheeks were anything to go off.

Luke and Alex met Reggie that following school year. A new transfer to the school, who was awkward and quiet. Alex had felt bad for the new kid, and Luke really just wanted more friends than just Alex. Not that he didn’t love Alex—they just needed more than the two of them.

Reggie had been the perfect addition to their friend group—shyness waning with time to a spark of light and enthusiasm than rivaled Luke’s own. Luke finally had someone who would get excited with him—since Alex tended to stay quiet and just enjoy Luke’s excitement. They were opposites, but that just made them better friends.

It was almost funny how fast Reggie become their best friend too—he was just the kind of guy you felt like you’ve known all your life, when really, you’d only met him months ago.

And, as if Reggie wasn’t the perfect friend just by being Reggie, their new friend played the bass—and keyboard too (and a smidge of banjo, their new friend had been excited to tell them), and had been since he was eight. How perfect was that? They had guitar, and drums and bass now. Practically a band of their own.

The three of them were nowhere near good, instruments still slightly big on them, but they were content with their mimicking of popular songs and the occasional journal entry they’d add instruments and a melody too to impress their families.

The three of them loved music. Content to just sit in Alex’s basement and listen to music, or play their own. Luke was in his element hidden away in Alex’s basement playing with his best friends. The three of them growing and getting better together—bonding in the best way possible.

And they continued for four years. Playing around in Alex’s basement. Getting better, and learning more. Expanding their music knowledge, and becoming a synchronized machine of drums, guitar and bass. Knowing each other's strong suits, and where their talents needed touch ups. They were a well-oiled machine formed of blood, sweat and tears over the years of trial and error.

Becoming something bigger than just Alex on the drums, and Luke on the guitar, or Reggie on bass. Writing music together, and putting heart and soul into the lyrics Luke wrote. His entries coming to life with his two best friends.

Becoming a band.

“We should start a band,” Luke told the two one evening. They were fourteen—coming up to fifteen. Over four years of friendship with Reggie, and a solid ten with Alex. Luke had never dreamed of having such amazing friends, Reggie and Alex were honestly the best.

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing, for like four years now?” Reggie furrowed his eyebrows, barely looking away from his bass to glance at Luke. “I thought we were a band?”

“Nah,” Luke shook his head, “we’ve been friends who play together sometimes and sound kinda good, you know? Not really a band...”

“No,” Alex shook his head from behind his drum set, “we don’t know.”

Luke rolled his eyes at Alex, “you do so.” He cleared his throat, setting his guitar down on the couch beside him in order to step up on the coffee table—mostly just to piss Alex off who narrowed his eyes at his friend instantly, “I mean like playing gigs outside of our parents, and writing more songs-- our own stuff. Being a real band, with a name, and set rehearsals instead of just whenever we feel like it.”

“Oh,” Reggie tilted his head, before grinning “that does sound awesome.”

“I don’t know,” Alex shrugged, tapping his sticks on the metal rimming of his drums thoughtfully, “I don’t think my parents would like us having set rehearsals, y’know? We already spend so much time down here—can’t keep pushing.”

“True,” Reggie shrugged, “I’d say we could switch between houses, but Alex’s drums are awful to transport.”

“Rude,” Alex frowned. “You blame my innocent drums, but we all know it’s that you just don’t want us in your house with your parents arguing.”

Reggie pointed at Alex like he’d guessed the right answer, smiling fondly, "that too.”

“I mean, we could practice at my place?” Luke shrugged, “I don’t think my parents would mind too much, they love hearing us play.”

“Where though?” Alex raised an eyebrow, “your house is small, dude. Your mom would not want my drums in her living room, and your bedroom totally isn’t big enough for the drums, guitars and all three of us as well.”

“Oh,” Luke huffed, puckering his lips thoughtfully. “So, we find a studio or something to practice in,” Luke decided, "there’s gotta be somewhere available, right?”

“With what money? You know, for rent?” Alex blinked, setting his stick on his snare drum and standing up with a stretch of his arms, “and who’s gonna rent someplace out to three fourteen-year-old wannabe musicians?”

“We put up flyers,” Luke crossed his arms across his chest, sticking his tongue out at Alex, “you’re being a downer, dude. Think of what we can do when we’ve got our own space to play and no restrictions of when the music needs to go off?”

“Yeah,” Reggie huffed at Alex, “if we really want it, we can make it happen, Alex. Think of how cool it’ll be to have our own studio, y’know? No parents telling us to keep it down, or to go outside for a change... Wicked!”

“Yeah, I guess... then we aren’t bothering our parents as much either,” Alex pondered thoughtfully.

“Hey!” Reggie pouted, “we totally aren’t bothering, our music is a gift, Alex.”

“Yeah, try saying that to my mom who listens to us playing Long Weekend and My Name Is Luke at least twice a day, man. She probably knows all the words just a good as Luke does by now.”

“Okay--” Reggie pouted, “that’s actually fair.”

“So,” Luke looked between the two, “the flyers will work, probably, but what about the money?”

Alex snorted, “well, we can start playing down at the pier for tips a bit more? It won’t be a lot, but it’ll help. How much you guys got saved up? Maybe we can cover first month’s rent or something with what we have now?”

“About... a hundre—oh, wait, I bought that leather jacket... so, uh, forty?” Reggie managed an embarrassed smile as he shrunk in on himself. He straightened up just a second later, plucking absently at his bass as he watched his two friends.

“I’ve got about... two-hundred,” Alex told them with a shrug, “I was saving for a car, but a practice space is a better use of my money right now. I feel like my mom’s gonna snap if she hears My Name Is Luke one more time...”

“It’s a great song,” Luke pouted for a second before jumping back to the conversation at hand, “I’ve got about a hundred from those summer jobs and my allowance—I was... gonna get an acoustic guitar, but if we’re putting in on a practice space, the acoustic can wait. Besides, I can buy one when we’re rich and famous, right?”

“Sure,” Alex laughed. “You can have as many guitars as you want when we make it big.”

Luke knew Alex was teasing him, but the smile spreading across his face was completely real at the thought of having more than just the one guitar. Alex rolled his eyes fondly, watching his friend grin ear to ear, “you’re thinking about guitars, aren’t you?”

“Uh huh,” Like admitted dreamily, shamelessly grinning at his friends.

“Thought so,” Alex playfully shoved Luke, who stumbled on the coffee table, only to lose his footing and fall onto the couch, and Reggie, who was seated on the couch. The bassist yelped in surprised, awkwardly stopping Luke and his bass from tumbling down even further to the ground.

“That,” Luke pointed a finger, glaring up at Alex while still being held in place by Reggie, “was so not cool.”

“Yeah, well, neither is dusty footprints on my mom’s coffee table.” Alex gave his friend a teasing grin as he moved to sit on the couch beside Luke, who’d pulled himself off of Reggie, “so we have roughly three-hundred and forty dollars to put down on rent then.”

“A solid amount,” Reggie gave a nod, “and we can start playing at the pier more often to keep building while we look around, right?”

“Right,” Luke nodded, grinning fondly as he threw his arms around each of his friend’s shoulders, pulling them into his side and basically pulling them into headlocks, “we’ll make this happen, boys. We’ll make it happen, and it’ll be great.”

“Guess we’re starting a band then,” Alex groaned from under Luke’s arm as he slipped his hands up beside his neck to try to pry Luke away. Reggie gave an agreeing exhale of breath as he tried to pull away as well.

They were a band. A real one.

The weeks following that conversation, the trio hunkered down on trying to find a place to play that wasn’t in anyone’s parent’s basement or living room, as well as playing every chance they got down at the pier, or in front of popular stores until they got chased away to start banking rent.

Luke hadn’t been sure his friends were as into the idea of becoming an actual band, but he was surprised that Reggie and Alex were putting as much into the idea as he was.

Alex made them flyers, and the three of them posted them literally everywhere. In the post office, on the bulletin boards in grocery stores, power line and stop light poles, beside missing pet posters and just about anywhere there was a chance something could get noticed.

But it had been Luke’s mother who hooked them up with the perfect spot in the end.

“Isn’t fourteen a little young for you boys to be looking to rent?”

Luke looked up from his journal, blinking at his mother, who was stood in his bedroom doorway. In her hand was one of the posters Alex had made.

They hadn’t had much luck—turns out people don’t really want teenagers playing music on their property, no matter how good they happen to be. They’d gotten exactly two calls about the space, and both had retracted their offer of a space as soon as they found out it was teenagers they were talking too.

“No,” Luke shook his head, “we’ve already got rent waiting and everything. We know the responsibility—or, Alex does, at least.” He told her with a sigh, flopping back on his bed, “people are just... age-ist. We’re serious about this, but no one will give us a chance.”

“You’re really serious about this?” Emily raised an eyebrow at the inhuman groan coming from her son. “Completely? This isn’t something you guys can just give up when you’re tired of it, rent doesn’t work like that.”

“We need somewhere that’s not Alex’s basement to practice,” Luke told her, still staring at his ceiling, “his mom’s getting tired of us, and we’re getting tired of getting kicked out. Besides, we’re a real band now, mom. We need a practice space of our own.”

“Alright, well,” Emily moved into the room, setting the flyer on Luke’s bed and sitting beside him, “I have a friend at work who’s looking for someone to clear out the clutter in her garage.”

Luke raised an eyebrow at the random mention, before he perked up slightly catching on to what she was leading into and turning his head to look at his mother.

“I mentioned my responsible son, and his two responsible friends were looking for a place to rent to practice with your instruments, and she liked the idea of the garage being put to use. You’ll have to clean it up first, and if you boys aren’t paying rent like you promise, or aren’t behaving, I’ll hear about it.”

“Really?” Luke sat up, gaping at his mother, “seriously? You got us somewhere to practice? She doesn’t care that we’re not adults?”

“No so long as you don’t give her a reason to care,” Emily shrugged, “I’m serious though, you guys have to behave. You’ll have hell to pay with me if you get yourself kicked out, y’hear?”

“I hear,” Luke grinned, throwing his arms around his mother’s shoulder and pressing a kiss to her cheek, “thank you, mom. You’re the best!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Emily laughed, returning the hug. She ruffled Luke’s hair pulling away as the teen jumped up from the embrace with a bright, contagious grin.

“Tell her we’re in, alright? For the cleaning, and the rent—all of it! I’ve... I gotta go call Alex and Reggie and tell ‘em we’ve finally got a studio—they'll be stoked!”

“I’ll give her a call after you’re done with the phone then,” Emily laughed as the teen rushed out of the room, calling a hyped up ‘thanks!’ over his shoulder.

Emily listened to Luke’s footsteps pounding down the stairs, smiling to herself as she finally picked up the flyer and carried on to the master bedroom.

The studio was perfect. Utterly perfect for the three of them and what they needed it to be. It was everything Luke had wanted and so much more. They had their own space to do as they pleased. To come and go without parental consent.

After the initial tidy of the space, and getting rid of all the clutter and junk in the garage, it really was exactly what they were after.

They had a practice space.

It had taken less than a week for them to get everything set up—Luke's guitar, Reggie’s bass, and Alex’s drums (that his father had to drive over because the thought of trekking a bunch of drums down the road for twenty minutes didn’t sound like fun).

They had their own place to put their stuff, and keep everything in order. No parents checking in on them, or telling them to keep it down. Somewhere to be where they weren’t in the way, or overusing the basement anymore.

It was secluded enough at the end of the driveway that they wouldn’t be a nuisance if they were playing late at night, and wouldn’t be bothering their landlady.

The studio had everything Luke could’ve wanted. Ample room for them to move around and really get into performing. Finally, a place to rock out without being shot down for being too rowdy.

A bathroom that was theirs entirely.

A wickedly awesome couch that turned into a pull-out bed that Luke found on the side of the road and forced his friends to help him move to the studio, as well as a collection of old chairs they found the same way.

Now they had places to sit, and sleep, and rock out and pee. It checked all the boxes. It was practically a house, but without all the awful rules. Even better—they got to make their own rules.

The longer they were there (which was nearly always) the more it started to feel like home—that the band started to feel real, and more like a family than a group of friends playing music together.

It wasn’t just a hobby anymore.

They were going to be something big.

“We’ve got a gig!” Luke announced to his parents proudly over dinner one night. It was big news. Huge news. So far, the trio, recently named Sunset Curve, had been playing outside for free. Attracting attention from street life and collecting a solid amount of pocket change from passer-byers who liked what they do.

But they finally had a gig. On a real stage. Inside a building, instead of outside of it. It was almost unbelievable, and Luke was completely giddy over it.

It wasn’t for profit—not yet, at least. But it was still huge. This was the beginning. Soon they’d be playing for real money—and after that... maybe they’d even get to play the Orpheum someday? Luke had joked about it, but now it was painful to think that it could be a possibility. They were actually good and... maybe they’d really make it up there.

His parents shared a look between them, looking back at Luke slowly and a lot less enthused than he thought they’d have been. Had them missed it? His exciting news?

“That’s great, honey.” Emily told him, forking another bite of food into her mouth. It didn’t sound great though—not in his mother’s monotone, clearly uninterested voice.

“We’re proud of you,” his dad tacked on, forking his vegetables around his plate before taking another bite as well.

“Really?” Luke blinked, letting his fork drop to his plate, “’cause you don’t sound it.”

Neither said anything, so Luke continued, sure they hadn’t really understood just what this meant, “a gig, on a real stage! It’s gonna be awesome—playing inside! Do you know what that’ll mean?” he drawled with a grin before jumping right back into it, counting off on his fingers, “it’ll get our name out there, and more people will want to book us, because we’re awesome, and our following will get bigger!”

“That’s great, Luke,” Mitch gave his son a smile, while his wife pushed her food around her plate. He looked towards her, as did Luke, when she cleared her throat.

“Is this... what you should really be focusing on?” Emily asked quietly. “I love that you’re so into music, I always have... but isn’t all this a little silly? You should be thinking about school, and college... not this silly sunset swerve thing you have going on with Reggie and Alex--”

“Sunset Curve,” Luke frowned, “and it’s not silly, we’re gonna be big, mom. We’re actually good. We sound good, and people love us. I mean, we’re booking gigs already! Soon we’ll even start getting actual paying gigs!”

Luke watched as his parents exchanged yet another glance between them, heart falling into his stomach. He blinked at them, voice quiet, “why aren’t you happy for me?”

“We are,” Mitch promised, “we know you love your little band; you’ve always loved your music—It's a fine little hobby for you and the boys.”

“But you have to remember that it is just a hobby, sweetheart. It’s a hobby for you and your friends. You have all these big dreams about it, and you are good, all three of you are—but... it’s not what you should be focused on at fifteen years old.”

“It’s not just a hobby,” Luke furrowed his eyebrows, “it’s what I wanna do. It’s what we wanna do. I’m good at the guitar, and I’m good at singing. And Alex and Reggie are Gods on the bass and drums. We’re a great band-- we’re gonna make it big, and we’re gonna be famous.”

Emily shook her head, sighing, “that’s not how the world works, Luke. You don’t get to decide all this, and certainly not at fifteen. You should be focused on school, and be bringing your grades up to get into a good college.”

“You can be a doctor, or a lawyer.” Luke’s dad continued, “think of all the possibilities, Luke. You can be anything you want--”

“I wanna be a musician.”

“You’ll grow out of it,” Emily told her son with a sigh. “I wanted to be a ballerina when I was little, but it doesn’t work like that. I grew out of it, because being a ballerina wouldn't pay the bills. Like being a musician won’t. Your hobby won’t pay the bills, Luke. Your music, as fun as you think it is, can’t be your job.”

“It can,” Luke insisted, voice small. He looked between his parents, narrowing his eyes at his mother who he’d thought was their number one fan, and his biggest supporter. “I’m good enough to be a musician. And Alex and Reggie are good enough to do it with me.”

“Sweetie, we didn’t--”

Luke swallowed down his emotions, pushing his plate away and standing up briskly, “I’m not hungry.”

Luke was quick to flee the kitchen, and the house in general, leaving his parents alone at the table. That wasn’t the reaction he needed from them. And that both hurt his feelings, and frustrated him all the same.

Luke slept in the studio that night.

Alex came out a few weeks later. The guy had always been an awkward mess of anxiety, but the week leading up to him coming out, he’d been ten times worse than usual. Luke had thought he was dying or something by the way he’d been pacing in front of him and Reggie one afternoon in the studio.

Reggie had jokingly dubbed Alex’s anxious pace his ‘model strut’ and now Luke was finally starting to see it as his best friend paced back and forth.

Alex had let his confession flow out in an unintelligible string of letters he’d needed to repeat twice in order for it to be understandable.

Alex had looked terrified, which Luke honestly didn’t understand. Nothing Alex could’ve said would’ve changed what Luke thought about him. And Reggie clearly agreed when the two shared a look.

“Okay,” Reggie nodded with furrowed eyebrows. “So... what’s the problem?”

“You’re okay, Alex,” Luke had added when his blond friend looked like he was gonna pass out from anxiously holding his breath. “Really, it’s alright.”

“Wait, you guys are... okay with this? I like guys.” Alex stressed the work nervously, like Luke and Reggie didn’t understand what he was saying. He still looked scared, but it was confused-scared now. Like he wanted to be scared, but didn’t know why. Like he honestly couldn’t understand the acceptance, which was ridiculous.

“Are we... not supposed to be?” Reggie tilted it head, “what does you liking guys change for us exactly?”

“Well,” Alex blinked, worrying his bottom lip like he tended to do when he was very anxious, “n-nothing... really. But, it’s not normal—I like guys, guys.”

“Who said it’s not normal?” Luke questioned with a shrug of his shoulder, “what’s it matter to anyone else what you’re into?” Reggie nodded in Luke’s direction to show his agreement before looking back to Alex with a pointed look.

“You guys are being weirdly accepting of this,” Alex narrowed his eyes, blowing out a breath as his eyes trailed back and forth between the two on the couch, “it’s weird. I’m gay, and you guys don’t care?”

“No,” Luke shook his head, crossing his arms across his chest, “of course we don’t. And what’s weird about this is the fact you’ve been thinkin’ this’ll change anything between us, Doofus.”

“I care,” Reggie grinned cheekily, “not that you’re gay, of course. That’s fine—but that you came out to us! I’m proud of you, Alex!”

Alex gave a surprised laugh as his cheeks lit up in a familiar blush. Luke laughed at him, and Reggie was quick to follow, clearly proud of himself for easing some of the tension from Alex’s shoulders and bringing a smile to his face.

“You guys are dorks,” Alex breathed out, “I was scared to tell you.”

“You shouldn’t have been,” Luke shook his head, gesturing Alex over to them, and scooching away from Reggie for their blond friend to take the middle seat. “You should know that by now. Nothing you say, or do will ever change this, alright? Can’t break a decade of friendship that easily, Alex. You’re kinda stuck with me now, dude.”

“Yeah,” Reggie nodded, patting the middle seat invitingly, “five years and going strong! You’ll always be our Alex. A boyfriend won’t change that—just like a girlfriend wouldn’t. There’s barely a difference, right?”

“I should know that, but I get in my own head,” Alex gave a little laugh, wiping his eyes and letting the remaining hesitance roll off his back. He moved quickly to sit between the two on the couch. Luke threw his arm around Alex’s shoulders, pulling him a bit closer. Alex rested his head on Luke’s shoulder, tucking his nose in against Luke’s neck. Luke let his cheek drop onto the top of Alex’s head.

Reggie curled himself into Alex’s side, to which Alex laughed and drew him in closer.

They didn’t bother practicing at all, despite the fact that their first real performance was just days away.

Reggie and Luke knew where to focus their attention, and that just so happened to be on Alex, who needed them more than the four hours of practice that would unlikely affect their upcoming performance.

Luke followed Alex home that evening after Reggie went to his own house.

“So...” Luke lulled his head in Alex’s direction, a teasing smile on his face, “who’s cuter, me or Reg?”

The two of them were tucked away in Alex’s bedroom for the night. It wasn’t any different than their usual sleepovers, well, besides the new information about Alex that was still fresh in his mind. There wasn’t anything wrong with it, of course, but Luke was still thinking.

The blond blushed brightly again, a look on his face that Luke really loved to see.

“Do you really want to know?” Alex murmured into his hand, where he was halfheartedly trying to covering his face.

“Was that a you’ll be offended cause I’m gonna pick Reggie ‘do you really wanna know’, or an I’m embarrassed cause you asked and I’m gonna admit to you that you’re cuter ‘do you really wanna know’?”

“The latter?” Alex ducked his head, voice high in embarrassment.

Luke grinned ear to ear, tilting his head and trying to catch Alex’s attention, “cool. Knew it.”

“Don’t tell Reg,” Alex pleaded halfheartedly, letting out a laugh shortly after. Luke was happy that Alex wasn’t quite as anxious as he was when he was coming out—it was nice to see him at ease, even if it was just for a couple hours and then his anxiety was going to be back full force.

“Never,” Luke promised with a toothy grin, just trying to make his best friend laugh. “Wouldn’t want to hurt his pride.”

“You’re awful,” Alex snorted a laugh. “Maybe I chose wrong.”

“Unlikely,” Luke scoffed in mock offense, eyes rolling playfully, “you love me.”

“I do,” Alex sighed, then jerked up, “in, like, you know, the friendly way—because we’ve been friends for so long and--”

“Relax, Alex. I get it,” Luke set his hand on Alex’s arm, “you don’t gotta second guess anything with me. And I know Reggie’ll say the same thing too. And you know I love you too.”

“Yeah,” Alex breathed out, “sorry.”

There was a second of silence, both laying in Alex’s bed, heads sharing his pillow.

“So... you’re not, like offended I have a... a crush on you? I-I mean, that I, uh, like you?” Alex chose his words carefully, not looking at Luke, “it’s not... weird? I just... y’know thought it would’ve made you uncomfortable or something because, you know?”

“Definitely not, ‘lex.” Luke shook his head, hair falling into his eyes as he stared up at the blonde’s ceiling, “you gotta stop thinking that this’ll change anything between you, me’n’Reg. You’re still you. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Really?” Alex’s voice was quiet, like he didn’t quite believe it.

“Totally. Besides, if there’s something wrong with you for liking dudes, then there’s something wrong with me too because I’m not sure I’m completely straight either.”

“Seriously?” Alex perked up, he shifted so he was supporting his head in his fist, looking down at Luke hopefully.

“Dudes can be hot too,” Luke shrugged, meeting Alex’s eyes in the dark, “I mean, I’d be lying if I said you and Reg weren’t.”

Alex let out a bark of surprised laughter, cheeks burning with an embarrassed flush. Neither said anything, settling into the silence.

And when Alex slides closer and kisses him moments later while the two were snuggled up together in Alex’s bed, like they always were at sleepovers, Luke couldn't find it in himself to care because, well, he kinda liked it.

Bobby came to be a part of Sunset Curve the second semester of Luke’s Sophomore year. It was a music class split, between the sophomore’s and the junior’s, and Bobby was in the class with Luke and Reggie.

Of course, it just so happened that Bobby, Luke and Reggie were partnered up for a performance project for the class, where the two younger teens experienced Bobby absolutely killing it on the rhythm guitar.

Bobby had been all the two of them could talk about that evening during practice—and, honestly, was a band really complete with only three members? As much as Luke loved the three of them rocking out together, there was... maybe a piece missing? And Bobby and his wicked guitar skills were just what they were lacking.

Luke could tell Alex was getting fed up with the mention of the older boy in their music class, but he refused to let up until Alex agreed to at least meet Bobby. He wasn’t about to let Sunset Curve pass on an amazing opportunity like that.

Alex had given in to having Bobby audition for the band (because, rude, I never saw him play—how am I supposed to make a decision on this without seeing the guy play?), only when Luke had shot him with his signature puppy eyes that Alex had had a hard time saying no too, even before they started... well, whatever it was they were to each other now.

Bobby had raised an eyebrow at the invite, mostly since Luke and Reggie had barely talked to him about anything that wasn’t project related. But he shrugged his acceptance to the invitation to try out for the band when both Luke and Reggie talked up their band, the gigs they were already getting and the studio that came along with spot of rhythm guitarist.

It was a match made in heaven.

Luke hadn’t known that they were missing anything—but Bobby was what they were lacking.

Everything just seemed to click when they had that fourth member. Backup vocals sounded fuller, and the melodies of the songs flowed easier. Luke and Reggie didn’t have to try as hard to keep the energy flowing, because now there was a third body performing in the front of the stage and attracting attention as well.

Bobby was an easy-going guy, and was up for all the practices, and gigs, and playing the pier to bring in that bit of extra income where it was needed. He fit in the dynamic of lifelong friendship Luke, Alex and Reggie had formed, but he’d probably never be as close.

Bobby wasn’t looking for a friendship the same way they were.

The trio had agreed after only a week of Bobby being a part of the band that they sounded better with the fourth member. Even Alex, who’d been a bit hesitant at letting Bobby join, admitted his defeat.

Sunset Curve was in its prime with four enthusiastic members. Things were finally starting to look up.

Everything just kept falling into place with the hard work being put into it. They were getting noticed. People knew about them—talked about them.

Gigs started getting bigger, people started showing up for them specifically. Gigs started paying them to play, and the band was the talk of the town. People knew Sunset Curve. People knew their names, and talked to them... fangirled over them—they had legit fans.

Sunset Curve had a fan base. And it was growing bigger by the day.

But with that, came the four taking a step back from school, and homelife to focus on making it big. On making a name for themselves. They couldn’t throw themselves into the band if homework and classes were weighing them down.

They’d needed to prioritize necessities, and as it turned out, they had a brighter future as a famous band, than as a bunch of high school graduates moving on to desk jobs in stuffy offices.

Besides, they could always go back to school if things didn’t work out with the band in the end—but if they missed their chance now, that would probably never come around again. You don’t pass on a once in a lifetime opportunity like this.

Luke just wished his parents could see that.

It was tense at home, and it had been for a while now.

Since he started throwing himself into the band—it was really then that his parents realized he was serious about the band and, well, that’s not exactly what they wanted to hear.

His parents didn’t want him focusing all his time and energy on the band. His parents didn’t believe that Sunset Curve could make it big, despite everything falling perfectly into place before them. Despite the legit Demo they recorded, and the band merch that Reggie had gotten made for them.

Sure, it had been iffy when it was Luke, Alex and Reggie playing outside stores and shop—down at the pier to get their name out there—and, of course there was that awful book club playing that the three of them refused to mention. It really hadn’t helped them climb in the music world at all (but the snack were gnarly, and the older ladies were incredibly friendly).

He could see the hesitance from his parents when the three fourteen-year-old's deciding that they were gonna be rock stars with nothing behind them, but now they were going places. They had solid gigs, a fanbase. It wasn’t just some hobby in Alex’s basement anymore.

They had a legit shot at stardom, but that didn’t seem to change anything at home.

Bobby, the oldest of the group, and also, clearly, the most out there in the world, had hooked them up with fake IDs. Those IDs opened up a whole new bracket of gigs for Sunset Curve. They played inside clubs, and outside them. In the back of bars. For crowds that barely hit double digits, and crowds of over hundreds.

Anywhere that would let them play, they did. They took every chance to play for people with open arms.

And it was like a dream come true.

Slowly, so very slowly, Sunset Curve was climbing up in the music world. Luke had never imagined anything like this happening—things actually falling into place.

It still sucked that his parents weren’t... on board, and that Luke had to bite his lip when he felt the urge to rave about the band and just how well they were really doing, because they... didn’t care. Not like Luke wanted them too.

Things were tense at home, and Luke was actually starting to hate going home...

It hurt his heart that his mom couldn’t see how big this was for him... how much he truly loved his band, and his music. She should be the one person who gets it. Gets him. Because she always did. Since he was born, his mom had been the one person he always had in his corner—his dad as well, but his mom to a greater degree.

Luke just didn’t understand why they didn’t support his dream.

“You failed another test?” Luke narrowed his eyes at his mom. She was mad, holding the test paper he’d left on the table for one of them to see and sign before disappearing into his room to add some guitar to one of his newer songs, just so there was a broader basis when he finally showed the rest of the band. “That’s four this month, Luke.”

“I almost passed,” Luke shrugged, stumming uninterestedly. “It’s only like five points off from a pass. Besides, it doesn’t matter. Who really uses algebra in real life anyways?”

“This is your education we’re talking about, Luke!” Luke blinked at his mother’s stern tone, nose scrunching up. “Stop being so dismissive about it, I’m serious!”

He’d barely been going to school these days. None of them had. Occasionally they’d manage to go for a class or two, but school always seemed to clash with something—playing odd gigs during the day and down at the pier when there was heavy foot traffic to pay their studio rent... Plus all the rehearsals, soundchecks, writing sessions and practices for evening gigs that were finally starting to pay.

They really just went to school now to appease their parents at this point, since they all still lived at home most of the time—none wanted to be dropouts just yet, but if they had to choose between classes, or playing a gig, Luke was sure they’d all pick the latter.

“It doesn’t matter, mom.” Luke furrowed his eyebrows, “school’s not gonna get me anywhere in life, and I know it. I’m not book smart.” And that was valid. As the grades started getting higher, his struggles with the complex classes like science, and math and, hell, even English did too. He’d never been book smart, unless it happened to be a music book he was working with.

“School will get you everywhere, if you put in the effort.”

“School's gotten me nowhere. Nowhere but missing an important gig that could’ve lined up bigger opportunities. It’s been holding me back, actually.” Luke ground out, sure his voice was edging on a growl, “school has nothing to offer me. But you know what does? Music. And Alex, Reg, and Bobby. We’re going places—places school could never take us.”

“I know you love your little band, and all this playing and those... those gigs give you adrenaline highs, but it’s not what you need right now. No matter how good it feels now, you’ll look back and wish you’d have listened to me! You’ve got a bright future lined up with school, Luke--”

“No,” Luke sat up straighter, “I’ve got a bright future with Sunset Curve, Mom.”

“--and I don’t want you to lose it now because your mind isn’t leading you in the right direction! You could be a doctor, or a lawyer, or even a scientist! But grades like these-” his mother waved the test paper impatiently, crinkling the edges in her frustration, “-won’t help you at all. You’re setting yourself up for failure, Luke!”

“You’re not listening to me!” Luke snapped, shifting his guitar down onto his bed beside him so he could stand up and not have his mother looking down on him anymore, “you’ve got all these expectations for me, but what about what I want, huh? What about me in all this? I don’t want that!”

“It’s your future!” his mom growled in return, “I’m just trying to help you. You’re sixteen years old, Luke! You’re not old enough to be making all these decisions for your future when you’re just a boy. Listen to us, your father and I know what’s going to happen! These are silly dreams, Luke. Dreams. You need a reality check!”

“If it’s my future then let me decide!” Luke hissed, “I love you, but I’m almost an adult. I’m two years off of eighteen, mom. I can make my own decisions, and I choose not to do school anymore! I believe in my band, and we’re gonna do great things—with, or without your support!”

“Don’t use this tone with me, Luke.” His mother’s voice went stiff. That angry trying not to blow up kind of mad. “I am the parent, and you are the child. You don’t get to drop out of school because you think everything’s going to fall into your lap with your band!”

“That’s not going to work anymore! The ‘I am the parent and you are the child’” Luke mimicked with a scowl. He grabbed his guitar by the neck and stormed out of his room, past his mother, “if this messes up my life like you believe it’s gonna, that’s on me. Not you. Just let me be who I am.”

Luke stormed away from the argument before he, or his mother could really say anything they’d regret, because some pretty harsh things were sitting bitterly on the tip of his tongue. He left the house, making sure to slam the door as he left.

He no longer put in the effort to attend any of his classes.

To a certain point, Luke understood. He knew where his mom was coming from. He could almost understand it—her wanting what was best for him.

But what if what’s best for him was the band?

It was only in his wildest dreams that Sunset Curve would ever take off. But it was. They were growing by the second. People knew them. It really wasn’t some dumb hobby anymore.

Maybe it was at one point—way back, years ago. When it was three tweens pretending they knew what they were doing with their brand-new instruments and making more noise than music, but they’d grown up. They’d grown up in that band, and learned all the way through. Sunset Curve had what it took to be something big.

Luke’s dream was no longer a hobby. Not anymore.

They put way too much into Sunset Curve for it to just be a hobby. His mom wants him to put all his attention and effort into school, because that’s what she thinks is important. But what if he can’t do that? School simply wasn’t for him, and he really didn’t even have high expectations of actually graduating even before the band started growing in fame.

He didn’t know why she couldn’t see him putting everything he had into the band because it’s what he saw as important. She didn’t understand—and that was fine. But he needed more from them than disappointment and constant battles of what was best for him.

Sunset Curve was what was best for him. Being in a band with his best friends was what was important. Playing gigs was what made him happy. Being on the stage, and looking out at crowds full of fans was what was best for him.

He didn’t agree with her, at all. He could barely understand, but would never agree. Even from an outsider’s perspective, Sunset Curve wasn’t some dud—they were popular.

It would be totally different if nothing worked out. If they tried, and had no luck. He could see them pushing for him to graduate, and get secondary schooling—but they did have luck. They put everything they had into this band, and it was working out.

Why didn’t she understand?

The night Luke decided that enough was enough, was the day after he found out that he and Sunset Curve got the biggest break of their lives.

They were playing the Orpheum.

Luke had been dreaming of receiving that phone call for years. Years of knowing it was out of arms reach—but he was so close to grabbing it now. They’d booked the Orpheum stage, and it was such an accomplishment.

The chance of a lifetime, really, and Luke could see it over the horizon. It was almost close enough to grab. He saw that neon sign when he closed his eyes at night, and dreamed about the loyal fans they’d built up over the years screaming ‘Sunset Curve’ as they hyped themselves up backstage, raring to put on one hell of a show.

Playing the Orpheum was huge.

Very few people could say they’d even been to the Orpheum for a concert, let alone played the stage.

This was bigger than Luke would’ve thought they’d get—even being completely hopeful.

It had taken literal years. Years of thinking about taking the Orpheum by storm, hoping and dreaming of it. But it was finally coming true. They’d done it. Sunset Curve had officially made it. They’d play the Orpheum stage, and their careers would officially kick off. Sunset Curve would kick off.

Seven years of playing his guitar, seven years of him, Alex and Reggie building the support beams of their dream, three years of Sunset Curve, and just one year of the full band, Bobby included, and they were on their way to the Orpheum. In just weeks, they’d be playing in the one place that had made so many before others their’s dreams come true.

It was all for this. This one gig.

It made all the work, late nights, rehearsals, small gigs and arguments with parents worth it-- because they were playing the Orpheum. Not just anybody could play the Orpheum, but Sunset Curve was one of the few.

The call came in towards the end of the year—the chance to play the Orpheum stage in the upcoming new year. Bobby, who’s house number was put on everything regarding the band now that they were starting to get gigs and be calls about possible performances (since he was the only member who didn’t have a questionable relationship with his parents at this point) had called for a late-night band meeting.

The celebration had been huge-- excitement loud enough to disturb their landlady, who then shared the excitement with them, a cheerful tease of ‘don’t forget who gave you youngsters a chance first!’ before she let them off the hook for being a bit too rowdy.

Just the thought of being good enough to play the Orpheum had given Luke a cloud nine high—he couldn’t wait to feel what rocking the Orpheum stage would do to him.

Christmas was coming, a few weeks before they hit the Orpheum stage. Luke wasn’t sure if he was excited or not, because things were still pretty bad at home. He didn’t know how to talk to his mom, and she was keeping her distance. And his poor dad was just kinda stuck in the middle of it all, unsure who to side with, and refusing to side with either all the same.

It was the first year Luke wasn’t really... excited. He’d always loved Christmas, and how it seemed to bring them together. But not this year. Not now.

The house was decorated, like it always was this time of year. His mother loved Christmas, and the tree was usually up within the first week of December. There were a couple gifts underneath the tree, and lights were strung around the room. His dad, like every year, had set up the lights outside with Luke’s help, which was thankfully one of the only things that hadn’t changed in the tenseness of the family.

It was only a week, and like a day or two until Christmas. Usually this would be the time when Luke’s mom would be herding him into the kitchen to bake with her, or to decorate Christmas cookies—sometimes with his dad, or with Alex and Reggie, and others just him and his mom.

She didn’t seem much in the holiday spirit either, not once had she prompted them baking together, or for him to help wrap his dad’s Christmas presents—or the elicit Christmas caroling she simply adored that always showcased Luke’s vocal range and killer guitar skills.

It was strange. Luke didn’t like it.

He wanted to apologize, just so everything could go back to normal. But he wasn’t sorry. There wasn’t anything to apologize for. His dream coming true shouldn’t be some dirty secret he had to feel bad about having—it should be awesome. His parents should be as hyped about it as he is. He has a shot that many people could never even dream of having.

And Luke won’t apologize for being a part of something bigger than himself. He won’t apologize for his band, or for Alex, Reggie and Bobby killing it on their instruments. He won’t apologize for the fans, or the gigs, or the Orpheum.

He wasn’t going to apologize for what he was thankful for. Never in a million years.

The house was pretty quiet. His mother was locked away in her bedroom, doing who knows what. Maybe wrapping gifts, or some other Christmas related thing. His father was at work, and would be stopping to pick up fast food for dinner when he was off.

It was one of the few days where the band didn’t have practice—just because they didn’t want to work themselves ragged before they could even really take off. A day off was nice every once in a while, even though Luke loved playing.

He was reclined back on the couch, checking out a magazine Reggie had given him days prior, saying something about nice guitars towards the end. Luke was a sucker for music related things, so he’d gotten lost in the pages.

The Christmas tree was lit up, lighting the room, as well as the lamp beside the couch so he wasn’t reading in the dark (because his mother told him off every time he did that, saying it was bad for his eyesight).

Luke listened halfheartedly to his parent’s bedroom door open, and his mother’s shallow footsteps as she walked down the hallway upstairs, and the tapping of her steps down the stairs.

Luke was going to be telling them about the Orpheum show today, because he wanted them to know. His mother insisted the band wasn’t going to make his dreams come true, but being booked to play the Orpheum was kinda his dream coming true.

Maybe he just wanted to make her eat her words, or maybe he was just excited to share his big news. Luke wasn’t even sure what his motives were anymore—not when everything he tried to do was shot down or reprimanded because it wasn’t what his mother thought was best for him.

“Hey, Mom,” Luke greeted without looking up from his reading. He couldn’t see her, but he knew she was standing in the living room doorway, just by how the light from the kitchen created a shadow leading into the room.

“Hi, Sweetheart,” his mother replied. She was still stood there, not making a move to turn around into the kitchen, or join him in the living room. “What are you doing?”

“Just checking out a magazine Reggie lent me,” Luke shrugged, tossing the glossy booklet to the coffee table to finally look up at his mom. “I was waiting for you; I’ve got some big news.”

“News?” She prompted. She didn’t look terribly interested, like she expected it to be another announcement about the band which... well, was right. There wasn’t a lot for Luke to talk about in his life anyways.

“The guys and I have been working really hard on the band,” Luke started, leading slowly in to his huge accomplishment, “and it’s finally starting to pay off.”

He couldn’t help the giddy look rising to his face as he sat himself up straight, clearing his throat and attempting to contain his excitement, “so, we got a call and... we’re booked to play the Orpheum in the new year!”

His mother’s expression barely changed. She blinked at him, looking towards the floor silently, before looking back at him.

He’d expected this. He’d known the chance he was going to get a different reaction from the other times he’d talked about the band was slim to none. But it didn’t mean his face didn’t fall as her gaze made him feel small.

“The Orpheum?” She questioned slowly, shifting from foot to foot as she eyed her son.

“Yeah,” Luke cleared his throat, “it’s huge for us. Few people get to play that stage and... well, everyone who does gets signed, and goes on tours and it kickstarts music careers so...” he took a breath, “kinda a big deal.”

“No.”

“No?” Luke bristled in surprise, “what do you mean no?”

“You are not playing the Orpheum,” his mother shook her head, “I’m not allowing that. I’ve been lenient with you, Luke. I’ve let things slide, because I love you, and I know you love your music, but this—this is insane, Luke. You’re seventeen years old, and you think I’m just going to let you waltz your way into that kind of life?”

“What kind of life?” Luke stood from his seat, narrowing his eyes at his mother.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” Emily scowled, “have you seen what those rock stars get up to? How many get addicted to drugs and overdose—how many die, Luke? The scandals? No. You’re not doing it.”

“You don’t get to decide that!” Luke snarled, taking a step towards his mother, “it’s my life, and you don’t get to decided what I can and can’t do! I’m basically an adult, you don’t have any control over me!”

“In the eyes of the law, I sure do!” His mother hissed, “seventeen is not an adult. You are a seventeen-year-old child. You are in my custody until you turn eighteen, and that’s not for several months!”

“Maybe I don’t want to be in your custody anymore!” Luke turned to make his way up the stairs, his mother following on his heels, “God, you’re so suffocating! This is why I want to leave! You never listen to me!”

“Yeah, you’re really showing me you’re an adult here,” his mother gave a humorless laugh.

It felt like they were having the same argument on repeat. Every time Luke so much as spoke of music, or the band, his mother brought up the same weak arguments. And he was supposed to just sit there and take it, because she was his mom.

But not today.

“You can’t keep me here,” Luke told her as she followed him up to his room. He grabbed his guitar, setting it in the case before picking up clothes from his dresser and shoving those in the same bag. “You can’t stop me, mom. I’ll play the Orpheum, and I’ll go on tour.”

“Oh yeah?” his mom challenged, “this is insane, Luke. You’re being insane. Why won’t you just listen to what I’m saying here? I’m trying to guide you along, but you’re making this hard on both of us!”

“I don’t need you to guide me,” Luke snarled, “I don’t need you!”

Luke pretended he didn’t see the way his mom’s face fell, hurt flashing through her eyes before it hardened into anger. She was mad—but so was he. He zipped his guitar case closed, pulling it over his shoulder.

He brushed past her, taking the stairs two at a time as they argued, “I regret buying you that stupid guitar,” his mother snarled, and, wow, okay, that one hurt. “I regret letting you live in your silly little fantasy world as long as I have, Luke. I should’ve put an end to this years ago.”

“I regret staying here as long as I have,” Luke sneered back. “This is my dream, and you’ve just... you crush it! Every chance you get! I hate it here. I hate this house. I hate the things you say. You’ve never tried to understand me.” Luke drew in a breath before launching right back into it, “my band is the best thing to ever happen to me, and you’d realize that if you ever took a second to think about me, instead of the me you wish I was!”

He walked through the living room, grabbing one of his flannels and throwing it on as he refused to look at his mother. She was crying now. But Luke couldn’t really find it in himself to care—not when he was fuming, and angry. The heartbreak covered by the rage he was feeling.

“This has gone on long enough, Luke,” his mother told him through her tears, voice level even though Luke could tell she was close to breaking, “take your stuff back upstairs. We can talk about this.”

“No!” Luke whirled around to face her, “no we can’t!”

She opened her mouth to reply, but Luke beat her too it, “I never get a say in anything we talk about in this house. It’s always you and dad telling me what I can’t do!” he pointed a finger at her, suddenly angrier than before, “I’m sick of it. I’m sick of you ignoring me. I’m sick of you trying to break my spirit, when I’m excited about something band related. I’m sick of hiding Sunset Curve from you because you don’t understand it. I’m sick of trying, Mom.”

“Luke, pleas-”

“You can’t change my mind,” Luke declared firmly, still refusing to look at her, knowing he’d break if he saw tears on her cheeks, “I’m not the son you want, I get it. I won’t graduate, or go to college, or get a stupid job in some stupid office building to please you. I can be so much more than that, and you don’t believe I can. You’ve never believed in me—but I’ll show you. One day I’ll be famous!”

He paused, turning finally to look at his mother, expressionless in anger, “I’ll be famous, and you’ll have no choice but to believe in me.”

“Luke, just... let’s--”

“No!” Luke growled, frustrated with the circles they were going in. He was done. He done with this. With his parents trying to deter him, or make him feel like shit over the band he loved. There was no point in staying here—not when things would only get worse from this point. “You can’t change me, and you can’t stop me.”

He ran out the door before his mother could get another word in, she didn’t try to either, but she was on his heels once more— following him out the door. Luke made a beeline for his bike that he’d dropped in the yard that afternoon, hopping onto it and pedaling away as headlights of a vehicle pulled up behind his mother.

He could hear his mother crying, begging him to stop. Her cries softening down to nothing the further away he got. He wasn’t going to. He wasn’t going to give in. He wasn’t going to let them win, no matter how much it made his heart hurt.

It was only when he was halfway down the road that the anger fizzled out to heartbreak.

What had he done?

Luke and Alex had dated, kinda, for about a year. A solid year, and a bit of on and off afterwards. They never really gave it a title, just leaving it as it was. Not everything needed to be explained, or named. They could just be, but they both knew it was dating, even without actually admitting it.

They were both too uneducated and nervous to tack on a ‘boyfriend’ title, so nothing really changed on that basis. Bobby and Reggie knew, but neither really cared either. Reggie had been very supportive of the relationship.

It really wasn’t much different than being friends—well, there was the occasional kissing, sometimes, and maybe they got a bit cuddlier during sleepovers. It was nice dating Alex. It brought their bond up higher than before, and Luke loved it. He loved Alex.

He was the first person Luke really dated.

They did end up breaking up.

It was alright though— a mutual breakup, where, once again nothing really changed. He still loved Alex, and he knew Alex loved him, but they worked better as friends than they did together as a couple. And that was totally okay.

Luke wasn’t really sure what he was, where Alex was one-hundred percent sure he was gay.

It was still Alex and him though, a breakup wasn’t going to change what they’d been building practically all their lives. And honestly, the experience was more of a learning curve than anything. Luke realized in the end that he definitely wasn’t completely gay, and Alex got to experiment in a safe environment where Luke was pretty easy going.

Alex would always be that comfort Luke needed, just like how he was always there for Alex too. Reggie as well, of course, but it was a lot easier to infiltrate the Mercer household than it was the Peters household.

That said, Luke didn’t feel bad in the slightest as he climbed his way up the side of the Mercer house, rapping his fingers lightly against Alex’s window. It was late, he knew, but Alex was a light sleeper, and his parents and siblings were not.

He’d barely had a second thought as he got on his bike, guitar in his fabric transport case, stuffed to the brim with what few clothes he’d managed to squeeze in in-between the back and forth fight he and his mother had gotten lost in.

He didn’t really have a destination in mind when he’d petalled away from home, but he was quick to abandon his bike in Alex’s front yard when he realized where his emotional brain had taken him. He needed something. Comfort. A friend. Alex. To feel safe and to be told he wasn’t the scum of the human race.

He’d blown up on his mom—and, even if she hadn’t been innocent either, Luke’s whole being still hurt. He’d said awful things—with the intention to hurt her. He'd been fed up, and angry, and heartbroken—but now it was gone, leaving an empty, numb feeling he desperately wanted to fill.

“Luke?” Alex rubbed the sleep from his eyes, pulling the window open a bit to talk, “what happened... wait, what’s wrong?”

He was sure he didn’t look great. He felt like a mess, and knew he probably looked the part as well. Alex opened the window all the way, sleep wiped away and an anxious, worried look on his face.

Alex knew the most of the band—about the arguments between his mother and him. The back and forths of her trying to dictate Luke’s life, and him just wanting to be able to see where Sunset Curve took them. Reggie knew a lot too, but not like Alex knew. Bobby knew bare minimum, but he never seemed too interested anyways.

Luke fell in the window, caught by Alex, who stumbled under the weight of both Luke and his guitar.

“I’m sorry,” Luke whispered, grabbing desperately at Alex, “I... didn’t know where to go. I forgot my studio key at home and... and--”

“It’s okay,” Alex whispered back, pulling Luke up back onto his feet and wrapping around him to squeeze him in a tight hug, “it’s alright. It’s okay.”

Luke lifted his hands to wrap around Alex in return, where he buried his face in Alex’s favorite pink Champion hoodie. It smelled familiar—like Alex, and safety. There had been many a night when the two were involved where he’d lay with his nose buried in the fabric, just enjoying the comfort his best friend (boyfriend?) offered.

Luke knew he was crying. Not a lot, but it was there. It was a mess. Everything was. He didn’t know how to feel, but he was so happy to be wrapped tightly in Alex’s arms. To feel his best friend squeezing him, and Alex’s cheek (because he was the luckiest in the height department) settled on the top of his head.

Alex walked them slowly towards his bed, guiding Luke and trying to make as little noise as possible. He sat down awkwardly against the headboard and pulled Luke down after him. Luke shrugged the guitar case off his shoulder in a fluid movement as his body fell onto Alex and the blonde's mattress, wincing as it hit the ground with a thump. The clothes packed in would’ve protected it, he knew, but in this moment, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Luke had landed half on Alex’s lap, and half on the bed, pulled into Alex’s chest where, even though his face was pressed into the fabric of his hoodie, he felt like he could finally breath for the first time all night.

Alex’s hand carded through Luke’s hair, a comfort the two had discovered while they were dating, and Alex had never seemed to give it up even after it ended. Not that Luke was complaining—there was just something amazing about how Alex’s finger felt tousling through his hair. And it calmed Alex’s anxiety to have something to do with his hands. A win on both sides.

Luke didn’t quite know how to explain it. How to tell Alex everything when he didn’t really understand it himself.

He just... couldn’t stay.

He wouldn’t call it toxic—his mom had never been toxic, and would never be. He loved his mom with all his heart, even if he was angry with her now. Even though he’d left in the dark of night, leaving her crying on the end of their driveway.

It was just... suffocating. She was suffocating.

He couldn’t be around the negativity. The band was what he wanted. The band was literally the only thing he had going for him. He wanted to be famous, and do big things with his friends. He wanted to share his music with the world. They were playing the Orpheum, after all. He needed to surround himself with people who were proud of him, and saw the good he was doing.

He loved his parents, but they just couldn’t see what the band really means to him right now. And they make him feel awful about the band, and his playing—even though he knows it’s the last thing they’d want to do to him. His mom had said some awful things, and he’d said some in return... they just needed a break from each other. Or, Luke thought so, at least.

“A-Alex,” Luke whispered as the blonde pulled his covers over the both of them. Slowly and carefully, Alex slid down the beadboard so they were laying. Luke’s head was settled on Alex’s chest, where Alex’s hand still lazily carded through his hair.

“It’s alright,” Alex murmured, “just... go to sleep, alright? It’s late, and you’re tired. We... we’ll figure this out in the morning.”

Luke tightened around Alex, burying his face even closer to the blonde’s chest, face getting lost in the hoodie, and the blanket. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to even out his breaths.

Alex fell asleep before he did. Slowly, his hand stopping carding through Luke’s hair and fell onto his back, holding him in place. Luke felt the moment Alex’s breaths evened out below him, so he turned his head to look at his best friend.

Luke tried to fall asleep too—he really did. He squeezed his eyes shut, and snuggled down into the blankets. Wrapped around Alex and tucked his head under the blonde’s chin.

But it was too loud. His head was too loud.

It was all still fresh. He was wide awake. Lost in his head. There was so much swirling around in his brain, the words he’d said, things his mother said back. Leaving. The anger he’d felt and how it had melted away as he calmed down. His pride keeping him from turning his bike around like he wanted too and apologizing for the things he’d said.

The need to hug his mom. It had been blown out or proportion. He just wanted her to understand—he didn’t want everything to happen like this, but it’s how it turned out. There was no changing it now, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt his heart to think of how it all went down.

He’d never said, or done anything like that before. He’d never really had a real argument with her. He knew it needed to be done, but he couldn’t help but think he’d been too hard on her. She was trying to protect him, and he knew that. But there was a difference from trying to keep him safe and keeping him on a tight leash.

It felt like he couldn’t breathe at home, because he’d never be what his parents wanted him to be. He’d never get the satisfaction of showing them what music meant to them. They’d never really understand his drive to show the world what Sunset Curve had to offer.

Luke watched Alex sleep for a couple minutes, calming himself down from just how worked up he’d been when he arrived through Alex’s window. Watching his friend’s chest rise and fall with his breaths. Alex was a comfort to him, and had been since they were tykes.

Luke knew he couldn’t stay right now, no matter how much he wanted too. Energy was flowing through him, lyrics danced around his head and all he really wanted to do was jot things down in his journal. To get everything in his head, out into the world.

He pulled himself from Alex’s grip, making sure the blonde was tucked in before grabbing the studio key from Alex’s dresser. He’d need to get his own from home at some point or, hell, even make a new copy or something.

Luke left the same way he came in, guitar pulled over his shoulder, and flannel wrapped around his torso to keep the night chill off himself. Alex barely stirred as Luke left out the window, closing it silently behind himself.

With one last fleeting look at the Mercer house, Luke hopped on his bike and took off.

“You are so lucky I love you, or you’d be a dead man,” Luke jerked up from his sleep, hands reaching up to halfheartedly cover his tired eyes and wipe the sleep away at the same time. It was so bright.

“Wha?” Luke managed out, voice groggy and tired.

“You do not get to show up at someone’s window in the middle of the night, worry the hell out of the and then dip out when they’re asleep. Talk about a dick move. I kinda wanna hit you.”

Luke was too tired to really connect the anger in Alex’s voice. That, and there was a second snort of laughter in the studio.

“He’s looks pretty tired,” Reggie’s voice came next, and Luke could almost hear the tasing smile in his voice, “give him a break?”

“Nope,” Alex replied, shaking Luke's tired form. He wasn’t really asleep anymore, but he knew the action was more to annoy him than anything else. He swatted halfheartedly at Alex’s forearms, but the blond didn’t let up, “no breaks for the asshole. I thought it this was another runaway incident like in ‘87. His parents and my family looked everywhere for him; thought he got kidnapped.”

“Did he?” Reggie sounded surprised, and Luke could only assume Alex shot him a sarcastic look by how fast Reggie backtracked, “no, dumb question, of course he didn’t duh.”

“It’s not my fault none of you looked at the library,” Luke muttered finally. “I was there all day.”

“Yes, ‘cause you often spend so much time there,” his best friend hissed sarcastically, “why, oh why wasn’t the library the first place we looked for angsty ten-year-old Luke?”

“They have music books!” Luke defended himself, “and I’ve gone to the library before!”

“When you were forced,” Alex snorted, “on your own free will? Never.”

“No one looked for me there though,” Luke gave a nod of his head, almost prideful, “I’d say that’s a win, really. The point was to not be found right away, and I wasn’t, was I?”

“God,” Alex gave a heavy, annoyed sigh, “you’re such an idiot.”

Alex didn’t say anything for a second, glaring harshly at Luke before he closed the distance in the blink of an eye and pulled him into a tight hug, “don’t do that again, you scared me. I thought you’d ran away for good this time.”

“Sorry,” Luke ducked his head, nuzzling into Alex’s shoulder, “didn’t mean to worry you, just couldn’t keep my head quiet, you know?”

“So, uh,” Reggie called their attention bouncing on his heels awkwardly, “what... happened? Alex was in hysterics when he called my house this morning asking if you were there, Luke. It was a rush to meet up with him and look for you, I think I put my shirt on backwards.”

In deed he had. Backwards, and inside out.

Luke felt bad for leaving in the night. For worrying Alex. He probably should’ve left a note or something—even woken Alex up to tell him he was going, but then Alex would’ve wanted to come with him, and Luke, after being calmed by his friend, just needed a moment alone to think.

“I’m real sorry, ‘lex.” Alex ducked his head in a forgiving nod, so Luke turned to Reggie, “sorry to you too, Reg. I thought you guys would’ve known I’d be here. I’m always here.”

“But I’ve never seen you like that before,” Alex admitted softly, “you scared me, Luke. I thought you were having a panic attack or somethin’, and then I wake up, and you’re gone.”

“Just a rough night,” Luke told them with a drained sigh. He knew he probably wasn’t looking too great. Eyes probably bloodshot from crying and lack of sleep, and he was sure his cheeks were flushed from crying as well.

“We can see that. You kinda look like garbage,” Reggie told him.

“Thanks, man,” Luke gave him a sarcastic smile, “just what everyone wants to hear. Two hours of sleep’ll do that to ya.”

“On that note,” Alex snorted, “what happened last night, Luke?”

“A fight. A big one.” Luke told them, leaning back on the couch and letting his head thump against the wall. “I told my mom about the Orpheum.”

“Ouch,” Reggie frowned. It was almost funny that just from the innocent admission, both Alex and Reggie knew it wasn’t good. That it wouldn’t have gone well for Luke.

“Ouch is right,” Luke laughed sadly, “she... didn’t take it well. Told me no.”

“No?” Alex raised an eyebrow, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully, “no... what?”

“No I couldn’t play,” Luke filled in, “and I lost it. It was the last straw, you know? I love my parents, but I really want this, and I can’t be somewhere where I don’t get to be excited about music things because it’s not what they want for me.”

“That’s awful,” Reggie shook his head, “she doesn’t get to decide that for you. I mean, you’re almost an adult, right?”

“I said that too!” Luke nodded in Reggie’s direction, throwing his hands up at the ridiculouness of the their fight, “she just called me a child and told me until I turn eighteen that I was in her custody and had no say so... I left.”

Alex drew in a breath, “so you... did run away?”

“I guess,” Luke looked down. “I couldn’t take it anymore. It sucks, guys. I couldn’t breathe—we're so good, and the Orpheum is the gig of a lifetime. She didn’t even try to understand it. Told me she regretted ever buying me my guitar, and that she regretted letting me live in my own ‘fantasy world’ for so long.”

Luke paused, glaring down at the floor, “I got on my bike and rode to Alex’s house. I said some awful things back to her, and... I feel like such an asshole—she's my mom and I was... trying to hurt her back. It all needed to be said though. I needed to get it off my chest. I just... wish it had ended up differently.”

Reggie frowned, sitting down beside Luke finally and pulling him into a hug, “I’m sorry you had such a bad night.”

“Yeah,” Alex swallowed, moving to sit on the coffee table in front of Luke hands settled on Luke’s knees on a grounding gesture, “you’re not an asshole when it comes to your feelings. You have a great mom, and you’re a great son, but you can’t always see eye to eye. Maybe some time apart is what’s best?”

Luke gave a nod, whispering a quiet, “It just sucks.” under his breath.

“Right now it does,” Reggie agreed softly, “but it’ll get better. It won’t always be like this.”

“Right,” Alex nodded, “it’s not the end of your relationship with your mom, it’s a break. A break for you to sort yourself out. I know your mom will come around dude, but it shouldn’t hold you back while you wait for it to happen.”

“Yeah,” Luke sighed, rubbing his eyes, “I’m not gonna give up the Orpheum, don’t worry.”

There was a moment of silence, all three just sitting together. Luke let his tired eye fall shut as Alex’s thumbs rubbed back and forth on Luke’s knees, and Reggie held him tight against his side.

“So... where’s the song?” Alex inquired casually.

“What song?” Luke mumbled, slivering his eyes open to look at Alex.

“The song you jumped out my bedroom window in the middle of the night to write,” Alex raised his eyebrow. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“How do you know there’s a song?” Luke finally opened his eyes, small smile finding its way onto his lips as he thought about the newest song in his journal. The one composed of intense emotions, dedicated to his mom. The only way Luke could really express his feelings.

Someday, when the time was right. Luke would play it for her. But that time wasn’t now.

“There’s always a song,” Reggie laughed. “It’s like you think we don’t know you.”

“Okay, fine. You got me,” Luke gave a snort of laughter, “there is always a song. It’s in my journal.”

“You’re amazing, Luke,” Alex gave his own laugh, “we’ll check it out later, but maybe the three of us can just chill until Bobby gets here later. I’m sure one of us needs a nap.”

“Yeah, I’m beat,” Reggie yawned. “A nap sounds great.”

“Okay, but you’re not who I meant.”

“A nap sounds amazing,” Luke sighed dreamily, rubbing his eyes. “Reg and I can nap together then.”

“What, not me too?” Alex snorted. “Rude.”

“You’re not who he meant,” Reggie teased, grinning jokingly at Alex.

The blonde pouted patting his hands against Luke’s knees. He gave Reggie his own grin before replying, “he didn’t say that last night when he was cuddled up to me.”

“You guys are always cuddling without me,” it was Reggie’s turn to pout, “maybe I wanna cuddle too.”

“We can all cuddle together, and nap together.” Luke laughed finally. “And then we can practice with Bobby and get even better than we are-- and then, we rock the Orpheum, right?”

“Right!” Reggie cheered.

“Uh, we don’t play the Orpheum for another three weeks-”

“Shh,” Luke hooked his arm around Alex’s neck, pulling him close to whisper, “don’t ruin it.”

“Yeah, yeah.”