Archive of Our Own ^beta

Luke had thought that when the stamps lifted from their wrists and dissipated into the air that they’d be done with Caleb. Any deal they may or may not have made with him would be finished; he’d have no hold over them, no connection to their souls.

He’s starting to think he was wrong.

It’s been a week of getting used to being seen by Julie’s family.

Carlos had jumped for joy (literally), and Ray had been a bit bewildered but very sweet. Julie had made Flynn come over for a band rehearsal and Luke got the feeling she was judging him specifically very hard. It made him a bit nervous, but overall it’s been a good week.

Until today.

Luke’s hanging in the studio alone, waiting for Julie to come home from school. Now that the phantoms can be seen by everyone, Julie has absolutely forbidden visits to school, so Luke is slumped on the couch, half-heartedly strumming his guitar while he watches the time tick slowly by.

He’s got a new song he’s working on, but he doesn't have much of it yet, so he lets his brain work at it. Luke finds that sometimes he has to let himself think about nothing for the right chord progression to hit, so that’s what he’s attempting to do.

The quiet of the studio is broken by saxophones playing a very familiar tune. The sound comes from everywhere, and yet nowhere, all at once. Luke jolts upright, guitar almost falling off of his lap. He clutches it tightly as the sax continues, a drumbeat adding to the sound now.

This can’t be possible. Caleb’s gone; they got rid of the stamps. Luke checks the inside of his wrist, panicked that somehow the purple seal will stain his skin. But there’s nothing there.

He can still hear the music building, and he hates how his mind fills in the rest of the sound. Luke’s always had a good memory for music; his passion for creating harmonies and beautiful sounds means he only needs to hear a song once or twice before he can recall it almost perfectly. It used to drive his friends crazy to no end; they needed the practice, the repetition to drill it into their brains. Luke can recall songs so well they used to make a game out of it; could anyone beat Luke to shouting out the title of the next song on the radio?

But now, Luke’s cursing his musical brain’s ability to recall songs, because he’s not quite sure this isn’t just happening in his mind. The song keeps playing, the band swelling as Caleb begins singing. Luke shakes his head fiercely, trying to dislodge the song. 

He doesn’t want to remember his fear at being pulled into the club against his will. How Caleb dressed him in the most constricting clothing Luke had ever worn. The collar was too high, the bowtie too tight, the sleeves confining. The fabric of the suit making him yearn for his worn out t-shirts. The way the jolts sparked in his chest, the pain they caused as he groaned alongside his friends, his brothers. The knowledge that Julie was waiting for them, and they were letting her down.

Caleb’s voice is silky smooth; one of the best performers Luke could ever wish to hear. He gestures to Luke offstage, beckoning him forward. He tells Luke that there’s nothing to lose, lying directly to Luke’s face, because he knows there’s always something to lose. In this case it was his freedom, and more importantly, Julie. But Luke couldn't do anything; he couldn’t poof away, couldn’t run, could only stand there and listen as Caleb crooned his lies into his ears. 

Luke’s body shakes as he recalls first Alex, then Reggie, then himself being forced on stage. The way his body played along to the song against his will. How he couldn’t stop his fingers from moving, even though he fought against it. The friction between the strings and his fingers, the pressure harder than he had ever put on them before, almost breaking the instrument and tearing his fingertips. How his feet dragged him forwards, how Caleb had yelled “You and me!” to him; he shudders violently even now. 

Luke never wants Caleb to indicate that they’re on the same side in anything, ever again. Caleb suppresses all other music than the jazz tones he adored and Luke hates. He hates the way that Caleb’s velvety words wrap around his head and make him begin to think that he’s right: they’re both musicians after all, and it’s only natural for them to work together. It fills him with such horror to know that the evil magician wanted to use their abilities, to exploit them; and that Caleb thought they wanted that too. 

He shoves his guitar onto the couch and clutches his head, covering his ears. “It’s not real, it’s not real,” he whimpers to himself.

When Caleb hits the high notes that signal the end of the song, Luke almost sighs in relief. Whatever is happening will stop once the song does. He’s sure of it.

But the song doesn't stop. Caleb’s high notes finish, Luke hears the faint noise of an audience’s applause, and then the saxes start up once more. Dread courses through him; he can’t relive that night again.

His skin is crawling, and he just needs the music to stop. Caleb begins singing again; and Luke doesn’t want to take a chance; how could he ever think about taking anything Caleb offered them?

He can hear Alex’s drum solo, then Reggie’s bass, and then without warning his fingers are twitching, tapping against his ears; they’re mimicking the solo he played when Caleb pulled him out from the wings. Luke gasps, and tears spring to his eyes. Why is this happening? Why can’t he stop it? 

Luke slides down the couch, ripping one hand away to grab a nearby pillow to stuff against his ears. His fingers don’t stop moving until the song ends. 

The next run-through his mind fixates on the words “looking fit to kill.” Had Caleb meant that literally? He did tell them he wanted them to “ be a little bit bad .” But they’re ghosts, so they can’t kill anyone. Right?

Luke’s sure he screams at some point, but no one comes. The song loops again. His skin crawls at Caleb’s terms of endearment; using “baby” against both Reggie and the band as a whole makes Luke feel sick to his stomach. 

Another loop. His head hurts, and his ears hurt, and he can’t feel his arms anymore. Every time the damn solo comes, his fingers play phantom chords and riffs. His hands burning at this point, the urge to scrape his nails against the callused fingertips to stop the tapping to stop the playing is astronomical and Luke’s on the verge of giving up. “I feel it in the air; ” rumbles through him; the electricity of performing with Caleb was a sour taste in his mouth, even then. It lingers now, a poison he can’t escape.

Again. “ Let yourself go crazy. ” Luke’s sure he is going crazy, and he’s all alone in this. There’s no one around to pull him from the loops, from the music scratching at his brain.

Again. Why “hat and shoes”? It’s an odd way to refer to a whole person’s body. 

Luke’s mind is numb. “Nothing to lose'' may be true. After all, what does he have, if his mind is gone? 

Something closes around his wrist, and the music cuts off abruptly. Luke trembles, his mind echoing with the dissonance of sudden silence. It takes a moment to realize the thing around his wrist is a hand.

A soft, brown, beautiful hand.

His eyes focus on it, because if he looks at anything else he’ll fall apart. His mind will unravel into the chords and lyrics of that wretched song and he’ll be gone. He knows that’s real; the hand is real, so he lets himself gaze at it. The slender fingers, the nails painted varying shades of purple. Slowly, the ringing in his ears declines. Her whispers reach him now, replacing the awful song, the weird echoes of the silence.

“Luke? I’m right here. It’s okay. You’re okay. Can you hear me? I’m so sorry.”

Julie eases the pillow from his grip, and he lets his fingers slacken. They ache from the phantom playing, and he winces, but keeps his gaze on her hand around his wrist.

“I’m sorry,” Julie repeats, and Luke picks up the tears from her voice alone. She’s crying. Julie shouldn’t be crying. Why is she crying?

Her fingers intertwine with his now empty hand, her other hand staying around his wrist. Luke’s grateful for the slow way she moves, for her continued whispers. His eyes finally leave her hand and slowly come up to her face. Julie’s wearing her hair down today; he loves it when she leaves it natural, her curls flying everywhere and making her look effortlessly beautiful. Her eyes scan his face, tears still leaking from them. 

“You back?” Julie whispers.

Luke manages to nod despite the voice in his head laughing darkly and sourly asking how anyone could come back after having to relive one of their worst nightmares for God knows how long. Julie lets out a sigh of relief. She leans down over him to lay on his chest, and Luke welcomes the comforting weight. He lets out a slow breath as he tracks her beautiful heartbeat, a rhythm that makes him smile and relax because it’s Julie. Julie tucks herself under his chin, the way they do when they watch a movie together and she ends up asleep on him halfway through. His wrist, where the stamp had been, where her hand still resides, stretches up and away from their bodies. Julie doesn't let go, and for that he’s grateful. 

They lay in silence for a moment, until Luke whispers brokenly, “Can you just hum for me?”

Julie nods against him. “Any requests?” 

“Bright,” he whimpers, his voice hoarse. The song they first sang together as a band. The one he had given her, realizing she could do the song justice in a way he never felt with Sunset Curve. It didn’t hurt that it was also the one that Caleb had never sunken his claws into when they made their horrible deal with him. It came from a time before they had ever heard of Caleb; its sound was pure and untainted.

She squeezes his hand once, then starts the song. Luke tenses, ready for the accompanying instruments in his mind, but it’s just Julie’s voice, quiet but confident. He lets himself relax again, and Julie’s music drowns out the last of Caleb’s foul sounds.

Reggie and Alex find them like that a long time later, and Luke knows he has to explain. He lets Julie off of him, sitting upright to let the other boys slide onto the couch with them. Luke haltingly explains what happened; Alex gets up to pace halfway through, and Reggie leans onto his shoulder, the way Luke often does to him.

“We’re sorry we didn’t come home sooner,” Reggie apologizes when Luke finishes. Alex chimes in, but Luke waves them off.

“You didn’t know,” he rasps. 

“But we should have.” Alex keeps pacing, his hands twisting in his hair.

“How would you have known?” Luke says, and he’s so tired, he just wants to sleep, despite not actually needing sleep as a ghost. “Alex, this isn’t on you, okay?” Because Luke knows he’s blaming himself again; for getting involved with Willie, for not knowing everything there is to know about evil magician ghosts and soul-binding agreements.

Alex grinds to a stop, but Julie cuts him off before he can begin. “Let’s just take it day by day, and watch for anything like this. Luke, you think you can make it to the house?”

Luke nods, although he doesn’t have energy to poof, so they walk to the living room, Julie settling him down on the couch. She walks to the kitchen and Luke hears Ray’s soft voice, so he figures she’s working something out with her dad. Julie’s only gone for a few minutes before she joins him, snuggling up once more.

They fall asleep like that, and Luke’s reminded that whatever comes after this, they’ll face it together. 

~~~

The next time it happens Luke isn’t the recipient of Caleb’s evil music. 

It’s a few weeks later, and Luke’s recovered entirely from the episode. Julie’s at school, but he had left his notebook in her room from their last songwriting session (adhering to Ray’s rules, of course, the door stayed wide open). He finds it on the floor and scoops it up, poofing out to the studio to try the verse they had written.

He appears in front of the amps stored in the corner, hands itching to plug his guitar in, when he hears a whimper from across the room. Luke spins to see Reggie curled up in his favorite armchair, crying. His fingers are in his ears, legs drawn up into his chest. His face is pained, and tears are streaming down his face.

“Make it stop,” Reggie moans. “Please.” 

It clicks instantly: the fingers in his ears, how dead silent it is in the studio except for Reggie’s cries, how tense his friend is pulled into himself; and Luke drops his notebook, running to the chair and dropping to his knees before it. “Reggie! Hey buddy, I’m here. It’s okay, it’s not real. He can’t get you.”

Luke keeps up his litany of soft words as he slowly reaches for Reggie’s right wrist; his fingers encircle it, and holds it up to Reggie’s face to reassure him that the stamp is gone and it’s in his head. 

But is it really in his head, a voice hisses in Luke’s mind. Or is it happening for a reason? A purposssssse. 

“See?” Luke says, trying to ignore the voice. “It’s gone. It’s over.”

He’s expecting Reggie to relax, for some kind of sign that the song is done. That’s what happened to Luke after Julie grabbed his wrist, after all. 

But nothing happens. Reggie’s fingers stay tight in his ears, and his body stays tense. Luke stares at his friend, waiting for it to click, for something to change.

Reggie’s face screws up. “Not again, please. No more,” he whimpers as more tears escape his closed eyes. 

Luke panics. Why hasn’t it stopped? He puts his other hand over Reggie’s wrist and pleads, “Reggie, I’m right here. Can you hear my voice?”

Reggie doesn’t notice Luke’s touch. It’s a strange sight from the outside, Luke supposes. He can’t hear the music at all, though he knows exactly what song must be torturing his friend. Even though it’s been weeks, he can instantly recall how it felt to have “Nothing to Lose” playing on repeat in his mind. The madness it seemed to produce.

The boy whimpers again, and Luke’s heart clenches. “It’s okay, Reggie, I’m gonna get help.” He has half an idea, but it’s all he’s got, so he squeezes Reggie once and then poofs away to Julie’s bus stop. He lands just as her bus turns onto their street, and Luke waits anxiously for the bus to pull up to the sidewalk, and for Julie to step down.

“Luke!” A grin splits her face, but falls when she sees his expression. “What’s wrong?” she asks instead. 

“It’s happening again,” Luke says. “To Reggie this time. He’s in the studio.”

They both turn and run towards the house, bypassing it to take the path directly to the garage. Their bassist is exactly where Luke left him; his eyes squeezed shut, fingers in his ears, body curled in on itself.

Julie throws her backpack on the ground and rushes to the chair, dropping to her knees and carefully grabbing Reggie’s wrist, just like Luke had. She whispers to him, and Reggie’s whole body goes slack. Luke heaves a sigh of relief at the sight. The song is over; his friend is free.

Luke poofs out to find Alex and inform him of what happened. He finds the drummer at the skatepark, watching Willie show off some sick tricks on his skateboard. 

Alex’s face sobers as Luke talks, and Willie joins them quickly. Luke turns to the skater. “You’ve worked with Caleb for a long time. Do you know anything about this?”

Willie shakes his head. “No. I’ve never seen anyone beat his stamps, so you guys are in new territory.”

“Has he said anything to you?” Alex asks.

Willie stiffens, and Luke wonders, not for the first time, how Willie is surviving with his soul still owned by Caleb.

“Not anything about this, no.”

Luke shrugs. “Keep your ears open, will ya? Alex, we should check on Reggie.”

The two ghosts say goodbye to Willie and hop back to the garage, where Julie’s managed to get Reggie onto the bigger couch. They’re curled together, and the other boys slide around them, mimicking how they had surrounded Luke when he got hit by the neverending song. They don’t talk; the silence is enough for them.

~~~

When Alex gets hit by the repeating, soul-crushing song, the situation gets more intense. It’s been a week since they realized Julie is the only one who can stop the song, so Luke counts himself lucky he catches Alex’s case so early. He spots his friend curled up on the couch when he walks into the studio to grab his newest song to work on. He stops dead in his tracks at the sight. 

But before Luke can do anything, Alex unspools himself from the couch and stomps to his drum set, his hands still over his ears. He hasn’t noticed Luke hovering in the doorway, because he shouts, “Shut up!” as he reaches the drums. His hands leave his head as he grabs the cymbal closest to him, and Luke watches in horror as Alex rips it off of the stand and throws it to the ground with a great crash.

“Alex!” Luke yells, racing forwards. Alex doesn't stop, just reaches for his hi-hats and wrenches the top one off of the stand. It hits the ground before Luke can reach his friend. His arms wrap around the pink sweatshirt Alex wears, and Luke tries to drag him away.

“Alex, stop! It’s in your head, you don’t want to destroy your drums. Come on!”

Alex resists, trying to wave his arms and wriggle out of Luke’s grip. “You don’t understand! I need to stop it!” he yells, but Luke ignores him.

The drummer is strong, but Luke’s arms aren’t just for show, and he manages to pull Alex away from his precious instrument before any more damage can be done. He shoves him onto the couch, where, mercifully, Alex curls up again and lets out a pitiful sob. His hands go back to his ears, and Luke watches him for a minute to make sure he’s not going to bolt back to destroying his drums. 

When Alex doesn’t move, Luke poofs away to Julie’s room, where she’s doing homework. She doesn’t even question him when she notices his expression, just drops her work and runs out to the garage. Reggie’s in the kitchen, and Luke grabs him before meeting the others in the studio.

When Alex has somewhat calmed down, Julie says, “Nothing broken, right?”

Just our minds, Luke wants to spit out. His panic is turning to anger under his skin. They beat Caleb’s hold. They won . So why was this still happening to them?

“Just the cymbals,” Reggie mutters, standing to pick them up off of the floor. He places them carefully on the coffee table, and it’s a testament to how freaked out Alex is that he doesn’t say anything about Reggie touching a part of his instrument.

“It sounded like it was coming from the drums,” Alex whispers. He clears his throat and continues. “At first it was like you said -- it came from everywhere. But then the sound...solidified? And I had to stop it.”

“But you’re okay, right?” Julie asks, and takes Alex’s hand in hers, scanning it as if for injuries. Alex lets her and nods. “I’m good,” he says, but Luke’s not so sure he is. 

Really, none of them are good. There’s an evil song haunting them, driving them crazy. And they still have no information about it at all. Nothing about this screams ‘good’ to him.

Julie sighs, and then calls for a movie night in the living room. Reggie bounds away to set everything up as Luke and Julie help Alex stand and walk to the house. Luke vows to keep a close eye on his friend for anything new.

He notices something’s off two days later when Alex kneels down to search for a bracelet Julie thinks she lost in the garage. They’re looking under the couch but don’t see it, so Luke pops up like normal. Alex takes a second longer, and he winces when he stands, rubbing a hand at his knee.

“You okay dude?” Luke checks, and it’s only because he’s been friends with Alex for so long that he notices the hesitation before Alex says, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Alex.” Luke cocks his head at his friend, and Alex sighs. He pulls up his pant leg to reveal a large bruise over his knee. It’s black and blue discoloration has Luke flinching away. “What happened?” he asks, stunned. “Wait, and how? I thought we couldn’t get hurt anymore.”

Alex nods. “That’s what I thought too. My other knee looks the same. I don’t know what happened, it just appeared a few days ago. They don’t hurt unless I put direct pressure on them.”

“Have you iced them?” They’ve all had their fair share of cuts and bruises growing up. 

“No,” he says. “I don't want to worry Julie. It’s probably just some weird accident. I'm fine, Luke.” Alex poofs away, leaving Luke a bit frustrated. Why did his friend just blow him off like that?

~~~

Luke understands Alex’s reasoning better after the next round. It’s a little less than a week later, and he’s starting to realize that while there isn’t a pattern with the song’s attacks, it only comes once during a calendar week. When it hits, and who it hits vary, which makes it difficult to prepare for it. A small part of Luke had hoped that once it attacked all three of them, that would be it. Of course, his life can’t be that easy.

Luke’s practicing “Edge of Great” by himself in the studio, waiting for his band members to join him for their rehearsal. He’s just starting the guitar solo he used to charm Julie during their house party when the horrific saxes start blaring. 

Luke’s immediately frozen; he can’t even lift his hands to his ears from the terror coursing through him. He lets the song get all the way to Caleb calling him for his solo before something changes. The sound of the song funnels away from around him, and becomes clearer in a way he doesn’t think he could describe. Suddenly, it sounds like the song is vibrating against him, like he’s standing next to a speaker at a concert. And then it changes slightly again, and now, in addition to the vibrating, the sound is reaching his ears from below him; it’s echoing around the studio like before, but the source is below.

He looks down and finds the white guitar hanging over his body; it belongs there, a voice in the back of his mind says. But a louder voice tells him that he’s wrong. The guitar is bad; it’s the source of all his troubles.

Because that’s where the song is coming from. His guitar is the culprit. How could he have missed that?

The song has restarted, and as soon as Caleb sings “a little bit bad,” Luke finds himself agreeing. He does want to be a bit bad. He tries to shake his head, because no he doesn’t; Caleb is the evil one, not Luke. Yet the song grates on his mind, painful and uncomfortable. 

But if the song is coming from his guitar, all he has to do is stop the guitar. Right?

Luke grabs one of the strings that’s vibrating against the body of the guitar, and pulls with all his might.

Snap! The string breaks, and Luke expects there to be relief; for the song to grow quieter, for the madness to stop. But the song only grows louder, more insistent. 

Break more, Luke. It will stop if you break them all.

He’s not sure where the thought comes from, but his brain is on fire right now, so he doesn’t care. The song beats into him, over and over and over again. 

So he pulls again. Snap. And again. Snap. His fingers pinch from the tension in the strings, but his arm pulls back again, to grip another one, to destroy, to make it stop.

And then, blissful silence. Luke’s ears ring, and there’s a warm weight around his wrist, pulling his arm back. As his vision focuses and his mind clears, he notices Julie and the boys staring at him with horrified expressions. Their eyes dart from his face to his chest, but he directs his attention to Julie in front of him first, his eyes drawn to her like always.

“Luke,” Julie says, and the mixture of softness and sadness and pity in her voice makes him follow her gaze to see his guitar hanging against him like it always does. Except…

Luke gasps, wrenching his wrist out of Julie’s hold so he can grab the guitar strap and throw it off of him as quickly as possible. He thrusts the instrument into Julie’s hands and stumbles backwards, unable to take in what he had done.

Three of the strings are broken. He broke three of his own guitar strings. Ripped them out of place, fracturing the unity of his instrument.

Luke looks down at his fingers. How could he have done that? His guitars are some of his most prized possessions; he had saved every penny he had to buy them, because he loved the sounds they made, because playing them made him feel alive and whole. They are a part of him.

And now Caleb has ruined that too. Just like he’s ruined their band, their minds, their souls.

Julie cancels band practice that day, and Luke doesn’t argue. Instead he poofs away to find his favorite spot on the pier; the one he used to busk at while the other boys were at school and he wanted to make a few extra dollars. 

He needs to be away from anything involving music for a while, so he spends the rest of the afternoon and evening people-watching, letting his thoughts roam free. Every once in a while a snippet of a song will drift over to him, but it’s distant enough that it only causes Luke to shiver once. 

Luke comes back to Julie’s house and checks in with everyone, because he knows they will worry and as much as he doesn’t want to talk about what happened, they will. Luckily, his friends seem to be in a gracious mood, and only Julie lays a hand on his arm and asks to talk. He hugs her instead, reveling in her steadiness, her warmth, and tells her that they can tomorrow.

But tomorrow brings its own troubles. Luke stretches from his spot on the couch where he had spent the last eight hours in their ghost approximation of sleep. His arms reach above his head, and with it comes a distinct twinge of pain from his chest. 

Luke pulls his arms sharply back towards his body. What had happened to him? He sits up, careful of Alex and Reggie sprawled around the garage, and heads to the bathroom, where a full-length mirror stands. He pulls off his shirt to assess the damage, and his mouth drops open.

Three red lines, just barely breaking skin, stretch over his chest. They’re thin, but long; they start at his right shoulder and end just over his heart. He lifts his right arm and winces as the scratches pull against his skin.

The realization hits him like a ton of bricks. The guitar strings, the ones he broke yesterday. They’re the lines on his skin. It’s the only thing that makes sense, after all. Luke hadn’t been near a cat at all yesterday, and his nails aren’t deep enough to scratch like that. Somehow, snapping the guitar strings had caused him physical injury. 

He hears Alex and Reggie begin talking lowly in the other room and shoves his shirt back over his head. Luke needs to talk to them about all this, without Julie first so they know what’s going on.

He hates himself a bit for the show he puts on before Julie leaves for school, but he doesn’t want to worry her. She’s got enough on her plate with school and the band and what she already knows about these breakdowns, without the knowledge of possible injury happening to them too.

Luke waits an hour after Julie leaves before pulling Alex and Reggie into the garage. He approaches his broken guitar slowly, like being near it might cause the song to come back. It doesn’t bite, so he picks it up and settles onto the couch, fingers brushing the snapped strings softly. Alex and Reggie sit in the other two chairs, and they descend into silence.

The other boys know he wants to talk, but now that they’re here, Luke doesn't know how to begin. How do you tell your friends, who have stuck with you through everything, that their instruments, their reason for being here as ghosts, is now in danger? That they are a danger to themselves now?

Reggie breaks the silence. “Good things strings are replaceable,” he says, trying to keep the mood light.

Alex shoots him a glare, and Luke lets out a small huff. He can count on Reggie to always look for the bright side.

Luke turns to Alex. “You still have those bruises on your knees?”

Alex looks confused but nods. “They’re mostly gone, but yeah.”

Luke nods as he sets his guitar carefully on the couch next to him. He pulls off his shirt and Reggie lets out a short gasp. “What happened?” he asks, moving to kneel in front of Luke.

Alex’s eyes are wide as he says, “Dude, are you okay?” 

Luke just shakes his head, tears already brimming in his eyes. “What do they look like?” His voice is desperate, because he wants to be wrong with every ghostly atom of his being.

Both boys are silent, so Luke repeats himself. “What do they look like?” His voice shakes.

The drummer is the first to put it together, because his bruised knees are the same. “Your guitar strings,” Alex breathes unsteadily. Reggie’s eyes go comically wide, but it clicks instantly for him too.

Reggie reaches a tentative hand to the guitar’s ripped pieces, tracing his fingers over the frayed edges. 

“That’s not possible,” Alex says, even as he pulls his pant leg up to examine his faded bruise. “How could that happen?”

Reggie sticks a finger in the air in a mini approximation of raising his hand. “You remember when we were learning to summon our instruments? How we can just call them wherever we are?” He pauses and then says dramatically, “They’re attached to our souls.”

“And it doesn’t matter how it’s possible,” Luke fumes. “It’s Caleb, and the song. Neither of them play by the rules.”

“But why is this happening?” And Luke’s not surprised that Alex wants to know the reason behind it, because his mind always works like that. It’s different to Luke, who (most of the time) just accepts stuff as it is, so he can keep moving along; focusing on the present is more important than attempting to discover all the reasons behind why the world is the way it is.

“Forget why, dude,” Luke says. “It’s something to do with Caleb; that’s all we need to know. How do we stop it?”

They’re silent for a moment before Reggie mumbles, “Well, Julie makes it stop in the moment, right? So maybe she’s part of making it stop in the long run.”

Luke’s heart aches at the realization. Julie’s connection to all of them is what brought them from the brink of non-existence once, but his personal connection to the girl who makes him a better writer, who challenges and pushes him, goes much deeper than pure friendship. And he doesn't want her getting hurt.

He shakes his head. “We can’t let Julie know.”

“Why not?” Alex argues. “She’s as much a part of our band as you are, and she deserves to know what’s going on. She’s already seen us at our worst anyways.” He trails off, and Luke’s anger surges. 

“She’s the best thing that’s happened to us. Those were your words, Alex. We can’t risk her getting hurt somehow. Julie needs to stay as far away from Caleb as possible.” It’s misdirected anger, and he knows it, but he doesn't let it stop him. “What about Willie? Are we sure he doesn't know anything about the song, or how our souls are attached to objects?”

Alex’s face hardens, and he jumps out of his seat to pace. “Yes, I’m sure. Just because he lives under Caleb doesn't mean he knows all of Caleb’s tricks. And don't act like you’re the only one who cares about Julie. She saved us the first time, and she keeps saving us now.” His hands fly wildly in the air. “She’s not a fragile doll, Luke. She’s a person, and she’s smart enough to figure out something bad is going on. Hiding it from her is the wrong move.”

“Guys,” Reggie says haltingly, but Luke ignores him, standing up too.

“We don’t know anything about this stupid song, so until we do, Julie stays out of this. End of story.” 

He poofs out to the pier again, wishing he was a normal ghost, invisible to the lifers around him. That way he could shriek into the sea, and no one would know. But they’re visible to everyone now. Part of the magic from Julie’s hug a few weeks ago -- magic that he doesn’t understand. Why is it always the people he loves that get caught in the crosshairs of his mistakes? Dying from bad street dogs, needing revenge on Trevor, now this? Why can’t he keep his friends safe, and keep himself out of trouble? 

Maybe he can fix everything himself. If Caleb’s still after them, still wants them to join his club...maybe Luke can make a deal with him, one on one. Sacrifice the few to save the many, after all. If he gives himself up, he can make Caleb leave the others alone. They don’t deserve this suffering after everything they’ve been through.

He’s pulled from his thoughts by Reggie joining him. “Are you done being mad at Alex?” he asks, and Luke curses himself for fighting in front of his friend, knowing he grew up the way he did.

“Yeah, I’m sorry Reggie,” Luke answers, and Reggie pulls him into a hug.

“Good,” Reggie says into Luke’s ear, “Because I think Alex is right.”

Luke pulls away to stare at his friend, but Reggie continues talking. “Look, she has the best chance out of any of us to stop it. I don’t want her to get hurt, of course, but if we tell her, she can help figure it all out. She can probably save us again.”

Luke shoves his self-sacrificing thoughts to the back of his mind. Because he knows that Alex and Reggie are right. Julie will want to know about this new development, and he knows she can help figure this whole situation out. Like Alex said, she’s not helpless.

Reggie speaks again, seeing Luke’s mind working. “We all love Julie, Luke. We won’t let anything happen to her.”

And it’s the reminder that his best friends also love Julie, that they would do anything for her just like he would, that lets Luke go back to Alex and apologize. 

They tell Julie about the connection that night. Luke pulls his shirt off to show Julie, and her fingers ghosting over the scratches causes both of them to release shaky breaths. The moment is broken by the severity of the issue, and Julie whirls around to pull out a paper and pen before Luke can even think about moving.

“What do we know about the song?” Julie asks. “When does it attack? Are you guys always alone? Does it hit in a specific place?”

Luke’s left questioning why he pushed so hard to keep her out of this. Her creative mind is built to solve problems, and the list they come up with that night shows Luke that Alex was correct in his arguments.

As the band talks Julie writes, and in the end they realize there are a few things they can do to limit the song’s destruction. There’s no rhyme or reason to when or who it attacks, but it’s always when one of the boys are alone in the studio. Maybe because there’s so much music in here -- instruments, sheet music, random lyrics written on napkins or scrap paper, microphones and amps -- the song is drawn to attack here. 

No one alone in the garage, Julie writes.

With the new destructive force of the attack, Julie suggests keeping the instruments in the house instead of the studio, to maybe help mitigate the damage. Because the boys can just poof the instruments into the garage for rehearsal, they all agree to that idea too.

Instruments stay in the house goes on the list.

Luke points out what he noticed about the frequency of the attacks; for some reason the song only comes once a week. Alex suggests getting a calendar so they can mark off which days the mania happens and can know how long they’re safe for. 

Keep track on calendar is added quickly followed by (get calendar and markers)

Luke’s glad Julie is the one who suggests asking Willie again; his fight with Alex where he threw his boyfriend in his face makes Luke heat with shame. Alex nods, and asks Julie to do some digging too. Reggie notes that Flynn or Carlos might be a good resource too.

Research: Willie, Flynn, Carlos? 

They all feel a bit better about the situation now, and Luke’s shoulders sag as he lets himself finally relax. Maybe they can beat this after all.

~~~

They slip up a few more times over the next few months. Alex breaks his drumsticks once, and the next day he can’t bend his fingers; he lets Julie wrap them with a bandage and helps Luke pick out new sticks. Reggie snaps a string on his bass, and wakes up with a scratch over his chest like Luke had; he spends the day out with Julie and Flynn, needing the distraction the two girls bring. Luke manages to do the most damage; one night he forgets to lock up his acoustic, and breaks the neck clean off when the frenzy overwhelms him. The mental pain of realizing his favorite guitar has been broken almost matches the physical anguish of the stabbing stomach pains that ravage his body for days. 

But overall, they manage to keep going. Even though the song still attacks when they’re not in the studio, the damages are minimal. They keep track on the calendar and ask their friends for help. Carlos dives into ghost lore, and Flynn finds an old article about Caleb from when he was alive, but nothing concrete emerges.

Willie gives them their best leads, but it’s still not much. He asks around the club and comes back bearing news of a “killer track.” The original legend was that once you heard the song, you had a week left to live; no one survived the killer track. But obviously that wasn’t exactly what was happening to Luke, Alex and Reggie, seeing as how they were already dead, and it had been going on for more than a week. 

The worst thing about it, Luke reflects, isn’t the attacks anymore. It’s how they’ve changed because of it.

The garage, which was once a place of hope and comfort for Luke, is now a place he fears. They still rehearse there, and his weekly songwriting sessions with Julile are spent on the couch, working hard together; but when Julie’s away at school, he avoids the place like the plague. After he breaks his acoustic, Luke refuses to be the first one to show up for band practice. He walks or poofs around it, and when he’s inside, he has to fight the fear and anxiety that crawls up his spine. 

All three of them become withdrawn and quieter. Luke notices it in Reggie first; the boy doesn't grin as gleefully, and he moves silently around the house. He asks Ray to buy him a sweatshirt, and trades his flannel in for the bagginess of the sweatshirt instead, as if he can burrow into the clothing and hide from the world.

Alex paces more often, and starts spacing out. He spends an entire hour staring blankly at a wall before Luke realizes that Alex hasn’t heard a word he’s said. The blond confides in Luke a week later that he feels like he’s losing time; he’ll blink and somehow it will be hours later. His comebacks aren’t as snappy, and after his drumsticks break, his fingers twitch at random intervals.

Luke himself feels more withdrawn. His feet don’t spring as much when he walks, and instead of writing music, he finds himself wanting to read all the novels on the bookshelves in the living room. Sitting still and reading, letting his mind get lost in wacky adventures or amazing worlds is something alive-Luke would have hated; now he craves the calmness that sweeps over his mind. 

He wonders if part of it is keeping their instruments away from them. He feels more ghostly than he has in a long time; like a part of him is missing, and without it, he’s nothing but air and pretty colors that make up Luke Patterson. None of the boys sit with their instruments to idly practice anymore; they’re no longer a natural extension of their bodies. When they have band rehearsal something comes alive in Luke again; the song hasn’t stopped his love of music, or his desire to create it with his best friends. He feels whole, like the missing piece of him has clicked into place. But when rehearsal ends and they all poof into the spare room Ray has graciously allowed them to use for storage space, the fear of an attack returns. 

One day Luke’s sitting with Julie in her room, keeping her company while she does homework. The comfortable silence gives him the chance to keep reading, and he lets himself bask in the solace Julie gives him. He looks up to find her staring at him.

“What?” he says as he smiles bashfully.

Julie’s face lightens. “You just seem a little lost lately, is all. I missed your smile.”

~~~

As more time goes by, it gets harder and harder to keep living this way. It’s been six months of living in fear; six months of dealing with a song that overpowers the ghosts and makes them feel deranged.

They’ve added only one thing to their list: the song always hits after three p.m., no matter which day of the week. Luke finds it hard to be thankful for the small mercy of Julie being home or almost home from school when the song attacks; she stays with them or at the ready until the week’s replay comes. He is a bit impressed with Caleb’s persistence, because six months is a long time to wait for three ghosts to give up and join your evil club. 

And then things change again.

Because they’re safe in the mornings, Luke and Reggie have taken to catching up on all the movies and T.V. shows they missed in their twenty-five year loss. Everyone had come together to make a list of the essentials, so the boys are steadily making their way through it. Sometimes Alex joins them, but other times he leaves for dates with Willie, and they don’t begrudge him the time apart.

It’s a normal Tuesday morning; it’s early in the week and “Nothing to Lose” has yet to make an appearance yet. Luke has turned on Moana, and Reggie comments that this is one they’ll probably rewatch with everyone at some point. 

The movie’s halfway over when Reggie’s eyes go wide and a whimper escapes him. Luke looks up, concerned, and when Reggie whispers, “Why now?” and slaps his hands over his ears, the concern turns to panic in an instant.

Julie’s not here, and Luke has no idea what to do. It’s only ten a.m. so he can’t make Reggie suffer all day waiting for her to get back, like they do when she’s not quite home from school and the attack comes. He looks around the room and spots a pillow on a chair across from him. Luke grabs it and carefully slides Reggie so he’s laying with his head on the pillow. For some reason the song is only slightly less worse if you’re laying down; Luke’s learnt not to question it anymore. 

Then Reggie starts screaming, and Luke’s blood freezes at the sound. It’s a guttural, unhinged scream that tears from his best friend’s throat; Luke’s never heard a sound like it in his life, and his panic increases tenfold.

There’s nothing else he can do to help Reggie, so he poofs away to the botanical garden Alex told them he was meeting Willie at. Luke finds them quickly but can barely talk; his breath is coming in gasps, and pressure is building in his chest. “Reggie, attack, bad,” he manages to grit out, and both boys grab Luke as he goes limp. 

Alex poofs them back to the house, and the sight that greets them is one Luke will never forget. Reggie’s on the ground, writhing and squirming, his eyes screwed shut. The pillow that was under his head is now in tatters, and Reggie’s moaning sends daggers to Luke’s heart.

Alex gasps and Willie, the only one thinking rationally, falls to the ground next to the bassist. He grabs Reggie’s arms, lifting him into a crushing hug. Reggie squirms a bit against the larger boy’s chest as Willie exclaims, “Go get Julie!”

“School…” Alex says, his voice strangled, but Luke grabs his arm and poofs away. This is too serious to not get Julie for, no matter where she is.

They land a few blocks away from Julie’s school, and Luke’s confused until he sees a familiar car coming their way. Ray pulls up beside them as Julie calls from the passenger seat, “Get in!”

Alex shakes himself and the boys move through the car doors and plop into the backseat. Ray drives off and Julie says, “What happened? I’ve had a bad feeling all morning, but then my chest hurt and I felt some sort of pull to home.”

“Drive faster,” Luke calls to Ray, then answers Julie. “The song attacked. And it’s bad, Julie. I...I’ve never seen it like this.”

“It attacked?” Both Ray and Julie are stunned. “It never comes this early,” she says, her voice full of disbelief. She reaches a hand back towards Luke, and he takes it, clutching it tightly to anchor himself.

Fifteen long minutes later they pull into the driveway. Julie throws open her door and races inside, Luke hot on her heels. The sound of shrieking pours from the house as they open the front door. Alex had poofed back to the house to help Willie, and Luke’s glad he did. Both boys are holding an arm and leg each, pinning Reggie to the floor as he thrashes around. Tears stain their cheeks, and Luke notes the bruises that dot Willie’s arms, and one near Alex’s left eye.

Julie falls to the floor and Alex moves aside so she can work her magic on Reggie. It takes longer than normal for Reggie to go blissfully limp and silent, but Julie just croons meaningless comforts to him as Alex and Willie stand shakily. 

Luke pulls both of them into a hug, but it feels like he’s gone numb. He can’t think; he’s so helpless in this entire situation.

Ray signs Julie out of school for the rest of the day, so they decide to hang out in the living room so Reggie can rest. 

Luke feels detached from it all, even as they throw on a different movie and the tension lessens as the day goes on. He’s stuck in his mind, replaying the attack again and again. The fact that he’s useless when the song hits; there’s literally nothing Luke can do to stop it. And that Julie wasn’t there when it started. How they got lucky she had a feeling and was able to leave school. Because what would have happened if she hadn’t? Either they would have made Reggie suffer an entire day, or Julie would have gotten in trouble for skipping school. 

His mind swirls around the simple truth that Julie, their saving grace, can’t be with them all the time. That she shouldn’t need to be available all hours of the day for them. She deserves to live her life free of their problems. She’s already done so much for them; saving them from the stamp, creating a band together, letting them live in her house, inviting them into her life without (much) resistance. Julie’s done so much for him : she’s the girl who makes him a better person, who makes him laugh and gives him soft smiles, who writes music so well it intertwines with his soul as if she’s finishing the last pieces of himself. She’s the girl he’s fallen in love with, who he thinks might love him too.

And yet....

She’s a lifer. Julie has a long time left to go on and do amazing things; win Grammys and travel the world and make exciting new friends; graduate high school, maybe go to college, go skydiving like she had mentioned once. And she can't do any of that if she’s worrying about her bandmates getting struck by a ghost affliction that she has to stop. 

The idea flickers back into his mind: he can make a deal with Caleb to spare everyone else. It’s been haunting him for months now, but he’s a coward who doesn't want to give up the only family he has left. Luke is willing to endure tremendous amounts of pain if it means he gets to spend time with his loved ones.

But today’s attack has changed things. Because they assumed they were safe. They thought they had it figured out; they relaxed, and then Caleb hit them -- hit Reggie -- when they were vulnerable.

Is Luke really willing to endure existing with even more terror, more fear, more anxiety? Can he really put his family through that, when he has a way to (maybe) make it stop for good?

Luke looks around at his family scattered around the living room. Willie and Alex are curled up together on the love seat, Alex’s fingers carding through Willie’s hair and Willie’s hand rubbing Alex’s leg. Reggie and Julie are snuggled together, Julie hugging their bassist into her chest, their fingers locked together. Julie’s free hand is in his, and she strokes the back of his hand with her thumb, sending waves of peace through him.

He thinks about Ray and Carlos, who have opened their house and their family to three (four, really) ghosts, who have had to witness their crazed episodes and have been nothing but supportive and loving with them.

And suddenly, Luke is filled with clarity. He will approach Caleb by himself, and make the magician leave them alone. Luke can take suffering for eternity if it means his loved ones are safe.

He excuses himself from the group and heads to the studio. He needs to plan and to write. Because he knows Caleb is slippery; he will find a loophole if Luke leaves him one. From their encounters with the magician and what Willie has let slip about his ghostly life working there, Caleb is not someone to fool around with. So Luke’s demands must be air-tight.

And his family deserves a goodbye. Luke needs to give them a goodbye. His fight with his mother rings in his ears, the hurtful words run through his mind. The regret he feels at leaving his parents is ever-present. Even with Julie giving them the song he had written, he himself will never be able to tell them how sorry he was. 

He’s never doing that again.

Luke spends the rest of the day with his notebook, but it’s not the usual song-writing that occupies his mind. This time he’s working; plotting, thinking, planning, and writing. The studio becomes littered with ripped paper, half-finished notes and scribbled lines. Once he’s certain he has everything he needs, he hides the evidence away, and rejoins the family.

Hugs abound that night, and Luke makes sure to take his fill. He hides his decision easily; his resolve to save them keeps a smile pasted on his face, and even turns real a few times. The sober mood from the morning is completely gone. They try to make the days of attacks as calming as possible, and today is no different. There’s movies, silly games, and lots of lighthearted teasing thrown around, along with words of love and affirmation and tons of hugs. Luke makes sure to revel in it all while he still can. 

The day ends, as all days do. Everyone says goodnight as the lifers head to bed; Alex and Willie poof out to enjoy some late-night fun, while Reggie, still tired from the attack, takes up residence in the studio’s loft. 

Luke waits till the dead of night to enact his plan. He poofs around to visit each of the resting people at the house, taking one last look at the individuals who mean the world to him. When he stops in Julie’s bedroom his heart breaks anew. He doesn’t want to leave her, and he’s not sure what his loss will do to her. But he just can’t let his family suffer any longer, and he hopes the promise of future freedom will be enough to justify the fracturing of their interesting little relationship.

The sorrow of lost potential hits him again, and he needs to go before he changes his mind. “I’m so sorry,” Luke whispers to the silent room as he wipes away tears. He leaves the note on her dresser and turns around one more time to memorize his favorite person. 

With a sigh, he leaves the room and poofs to just outside the house so he can gather himself. He needs to be at the top of his game when he faces Caleb.

When he’s ready, Luke disappears from the Molina household, forever.

~~~

Hearing Caleb’s voice, for real this time, sends immediate chills throughout Luke’s entire body, and he has to clutch a railing nearby to not tip over from the shakiness he feels. The music echoes faintly around him; he’s not in the actual ballroom, but it reaches even to the lobby of the Hollywood Ghost Club. The band backing Caleb, the jazzy tune, Caleb himself; it brings a flood of memories Luke can’t stop. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to breathe as the images flash in his mind. 

He grits his teeth. I can do this. I have to do this. Julie. Reggie. Alex. Willie. He recites their names, and slowly the world filters back in. Luke opens his eyes to see his knuckles are white. He lets go of the railing, takes one more steading breath, then continues on.

Willie’s out with Alex, so there’s no chance of running into him; instead, Luke looks around for another ghost who can get him to Caleb. As he walks further into the club, he finds a help desk; the man seated behind it looks bored out of his mind. 

“I need to speak to Caleb,” Luke says without thinking.

Getting a meeting with Caleb goes much easier than expected, and soon Luke finds himself waiting in a cold room. It’s small and narrow, filled with shelves of trophies and awards. It seems more like a storage closet than a meeting room, but Luke won’t complain; the music from the show seeps in through the walls, and it continues to make his skin crawl. His fingers clench and unclench into fists as he fights to keep his mind focused and present. He leans into a corner, hoping the magician comes soon.

Finally, Caleb appears with a dramatic poof, and Luke straights up instantly. He refuses to show Caleb the fear that swells at his appearance.

“Ah, Lucas. So nice of you to stop by the club once more. What can I do for you?” Caleb’s voice is just as silky smooth as he remembers, and by the smirk on his face, Luke knows he’s already won the larger battle.

“I’m here to make a deal. My terms or nothing,” Luke demands, his voice steady and loud.

Caleb just smiles lazily. “I’ll listen to your terms, then decide.”

Luke takes that as his cue. He recites the contract he labored over, making sure to leave nothing out. “You will stop torturing my friends. No more musical, mental or physical attacks of any kind. You will leave Reggie and Alex completely alone. Willie gets his soul back, and freedom of every kind from your hold.” He takes a breath, proud of how his voice doesn’t tremble once. “You will never harm Julie Molina or any of her friends or family, in life or death. In exchange...my soul is yours.”

The silence stretches for infinite moments as Luke watches Caleb. He clenches his fist in a determined effort not to fidget at all. The magician’s face is hard to read, and Luke’s sure he’s letting the silence linger to frighten Luke more. He hates himself when he realizes it’s working.

Finally Caleb claps his hands. “I accept.”

Luke blinks. “You...you accept?” He can’t stop the surprise spreading over his face.

Caleb nods. “Two reasons. Getting even one of you boys is more than enough power for me. You really don’t know how much you have. William’s loss is unfortunate, but I suppose it can't be helped.” He shakes his head, mouth pulling into a pout as he says, “And the other reason? They’ll be so crushed by you leaving them that they won’t be a problem anymore.”

Luke’s throat tightens, and Caleb, sensing his weakness, continues. “I’m sure Reggie will enjoy his freedom, wishing he had someone to share it with. Alex and Willie can continue whatever the hell they have; I’m sure William will thrive with someone who’s broken by betrayal. The girl -- Julie, right? -- well, she’ll be the most heartbroken. Young love is hard to overcome; even harder when you share the bond you two do. Or, did, I should say.” His laugh is short, cold and mean, and it pierces Luke’s heart like sharp needles. 

Caleb waves a hand flippantly, his tone conveying the opposite. “Alright. William’s soul has been restored, the Killer Track won’t hit anymore, no harming the Molinas, and your soul…” he strides up to Luke, towering over him. Caleb touches a finger to Luke’s mouth gently, and revulsion fills Luke, sending a shudder down his spine and straight to his heart.

“Your soul is mine.”