Archive of Our Own ^beta

The first time you had seen him was at the Orpheum. Flynn had approached you a few days earlier with a ticket. You weren't friends with them, but friendly enough that Flynn must have felt bad for you. They had never seen you out anywhere, at dances, at parties, you seemed to be a loner.

You ended up going, if only to make Flynn happy. She was nice to you, it was the least you could do. You stood in the back, arms crossed over your soft jacket and headphones around your neck. Julie was playing the piano, singing.

After a bit, the rest of the band showed up. It was your first time actually seeing them. They seemed like... typically attractive boys. It wasn't until your eyes raked over the bassist that something really sparked.

For the first time since he met Alex and Luke, he felt alone. Alex spent all his time with Willie, Luke with Julie, and Reggie with no one.

He would've guessed Alex would go after Willie. They were cute together. And both ghosts, which was convenient. Luke? Reggie never thought he would find someone. (Not that Luke was unlovable. That isn't at all what he was saying!) But suddenly, he and Julie could touch, and Reggie had no one.

He spent his time wandering. Yesterday was the beach, the day before was a mall, today was a forest way out of the way of where he usually was. He wasn't quite sure how he ended up there.

He could hear his boots crunching below him as he walked a path beside the river. It was the most quiet he had ever heard. Reggie wasn't used to quiet, he was used to loud bursts of sound and excitement. Not... peace, calm.

It wasn't until he tripped that the first big noise he had heard in over an hour came. Falling to his knees, he looked up, only to see a boy standing there.

The second time you saw him was out of the blue.

"You kicked my bag," you said, as the bassist looked up at you. He looked like he was in awe, his dark green eyes wide and staring into your soul.

The bassist didn't say anything at first, just brushed the dirt off his jeans and stood up. He was a few inches taller than you, which was a surprise, since he looked so short on stage.

You could tell he was trying to respond, but for the next few minutes, he said nothing. After a bit, you leaned down to pick up your bag, putting all the strewn about things inside.

As you stood back up, you did a once over of him. "Your jeans have holes in them. Like, in places they shouldn't be in you want to be publicly decent. It's weird."

Reggie stared as the boy walked away, dumbfounded. He felt... weird. The way he felt when he wore his favorite shirt, when he played his favorite song on his bass. He felt warm, felt right.

After a few minutes, he followed the boy further into the forest, jogging until he was side by side. "Thanks for the advice," is all he could think to say. His hands are shoved in his pockets, eyes focused on his feet.

"I know you. You're Julie's friend, from the band," the boy says, fingers tapping on the headphones around his neck. He hadn't realized it before, but the boy was playing music. A rock band, one Reggie didn't recognize. They must not have existed when he was alive. Reggie's attention quickly snapped to the boy's face, searching for any hint of honesty.

But the boy gives away nothing. "I- uh, yeah. I am. I know Julie. She's my friend. Just my friend." The other boy looks at him with a bit of confusion, but says nothing.

Reggie goes quiet, palms rubbing his gray flannel for comfort. He had no clue what to say. Thankfully, it wasn't him who had to initiate the conversation.

"You play well. It was very nice."

Boots and sneakers crunching leaves. A new songs played from the boys headphones, now a feminine voice filled with rage.

"I can't play any instruments. I've tried, but it never really made sense to me. Tried a whole bunch. Bass always seemed so cool to me, though."

When he was alive, Reggie had his fair share of girls (and some guys) sweet talking him and his bass playing skills to get something. This boy, he didn't sound like they did. He sounded... sincere.

Though, Reggie thinks, he wouldn't mind all that much if this boy wanted more.

"Well, I have to go. Cool seeing you, though," the boy said, covering his ears with his headphones, and walking off.

The next time Reggie saw the boy was, surprisingly, at Julie's house. He was sitting at on the floor of the garage while Julie played, scribbling in a notebook. Flynn sat beside him, peering over his shoulder.

Alex and Luke weren't there. Weird. He sat beside Julie on her piano bench, on the side the boy was sitting on. He tried to get a glimpse of the notebook, but the boy pulled it away.

"Stop that. Mind your own business," he said, to a confused look from Flynn. He followed up, "Not you, one of Julie's ghost boys. The black haired one. The pretty one."

Julie and Flynn didn't even seem surprised the boy could see him.

Reggie blushed. The boy thought he was pretty?

"Flynn, his face is all red, I wish you could see this."