Chapter Text
“Julie.”
Julie’s head jerked up. She knew that voice. She’d recognize it in her sleep. She’d know that shadow, framed in early morning light, anywhere. Silhouetted in the doorway, those curls – uncontestably unruly at the ends, soft in a way that made messy look perfect – bounced lightly as the figure stepped inside.
“You know you’re not supposed to go out of the house on your own, mija.”
“I’m in the garage, mamá.”
“Still.” Rose Molina’s voice was gentle, a melody in itself as she crossed the room. “I went into your room and found an empty bed. You made me feel worried, mariposa.”
“Sorry.”
“De nada, mija. You’re playing music?”
Julie shrugged. “I was going to, but...there was this old guitar in the loft. I tried to play it, and then it felt...scary.”
“Scary how?”
“Like...it got cold. And then it started playing by itself.”
Rose didn’t flinch. She only smiled gently, sitting down beside Julie on the piano stool. Julie clambered into her lap, all knees and elbows.
“Oh, mija, don’t worry. That’s only the spirits coming home for Día.”
Julie blinked. “Día?”
“Día de los Muertos. Day of the Dead. When the spirits of those passed on return to visit the living. We were going to put your abuelo’s picture on the ofrenda today - did you forget?”
Julie hesitated, burying her head in her mother’s chest. “I...can’t remember, mamá.”
Rose chuckled, the sound vibrating through her chest and beneath Julie’s cheek. “It’s okay. You’ve only had eight short years, hm? There’ll be plenty of time to remember.”
A gentle C# note played on the piano.
“Good morning! We’re all still hard!”
Luke practically chirped his greeting as he entered the kitchen, followed closely by Reggie. Julie could have jumped straight out of her skin, her arms jerking upward and sending a soupy mess of cereal and milk flying into the air and splattering over the kitchen counter and floor. Luke winced animatedly, grinning toothily as Julie sent him a steely glare.
“Hey, hey, Julie, Julie, touch my arm! Touch it!” Reggie babbled on, shoving his arm in Julie’s face as she did her best to figure out where Carlos had left the kitchen roll.
Julie smacked him away automatically, doing her best to look annoyed even as a smirk tugged at her mouth.
Luke snorted, hoisting himself up onto the counter. “Unbelievable.”
“Yup, morning...you better be careful scaring me, now that I can physically beat your collective asses.”
“I would love that.” He shot her a wink, earning a soft ugh from Reggie, who was now desperately attempting to help Julie with the overturned milk carton; Julie didn’t have the heart to tell him he was just making the mess worse.
“Where’s Alex this morning?” Julie finally asked, settling down with her third attempt at a cereal bowl (the second had been swiftly destroyed in an incident involving Reggie, Julie’s slippers, and a rogue fork).
“I think we lost him somewhere around the begonias,” Luke said, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder toward her mother’s flower garden.
“He’s been out of it this morning,” Reggie added from the chair opposite her, eyeing the soupy mess in her bowl like it owed him money. “I think he’s convinced something’s wrong ’cause he hasn’t spoken to the love of his life in, like...six hours.”
Luke chuckled, shifting where he sat on the counter. “Nah, nah - they’re just friends.”
“For now...” Julie waggled her brows, the soft grin tugging at her lips as she met Luke’s eyes and spooned up another bite of cereal.
Luke held her gaze. A gummy silence stuck between them, thick and weird and warm, until he cleared his throat. “I...yeah. Yeah, they’ll get together eventually...”
“Eventually,” Reggie echoed, oblivious as ever, completely missing the jolt of static between them.
“JULIE!” A high-pitched, familiar howl sounded from the stairwell.
Down the stairs came Carlos, bounding into the entrance hall like a rabbit on coke, tattered bathrobe flaring behind him like a cape. He skidded into the wall and bounced off it like a prepubescent beach ball.
If Reggie hadn’t reacted quickly, leaning forward and steadying her bowl with a ghostly hand, Julie would have sacrificed her third portion of cereal to the wrath of the kitchen floor.
“Jesus - what?”
“Julie! Did you see it?”
“See what?” Reggie chimed in, totally invested despite the fact that Carlos couldn’t hear or see him.
“See what?” Julie echoed, mouth full of cereal.
“The video of your garage performance? It’s blowing up!”
Julie pulled a face. “Yeah, we were literally talking about it last night, remember? After the Orpheum?”
“No, like...like, a million views!”
“Wait - actually?”
She lunged for his phone, snatching it out of his hand mid-shout. For once, Carlos’s ten-year-old brain wasn’t exaggerating.
1,127,325 views.
Julie shot to her feet so fast her chair toppled. Her third bowl of cereal – oh-so tragic, cursed and betrayed – hit the floor with an almighty SMASH. Reggie cried out like someone had been shot. Luke flailed and fell backward off the counter. Carlos stood blinking, totally unaware of the chaos he’d just unleashed.
“Damn it...” Julie huffed, eyeing the shards now glittering across the tile. “Carlos, where’s the dustpan and brush?”
“Dad’s room.”
“Then go get it!”
“You go get it!”
“Nah, I have to call Flynn. Scram, pronto!”
Carlos left the room with a heavy stomp of his feet and a loud groan, back up the stairs until Julie could hear his fading footsteps on the ceiling – the floor of the hallway above.
“Okay, what was that?” Luke asked, rubbing his head and sucking in a breath through clenched teeth.
“We’re trending.”
Blank looks all around. Julie elaborated, “It’s a good thing. It means over a million people saw our garage video.”
“Oh...nice...” Luke said softly, as though his 1990s brain couldn’t quite comprehend the enormity of this moment.
Julie rolled her eyes and shoved a sponge at him. “Here. Why don’t you process all that while making yourself useful?”
Conveniently for the boys, it was at that exact moment the doorbell rang. Julie sighed with a small, endearing grin as Luke dropped the sponge like it had shocked him, before heading into the entrance hall to greet their visitor.
“Hi, Nick!”
He wasn’t facing her, but turned at the sound of his name, swaying slightly like a swing in the breeze. Without a word, he pulled his hands from behind his back, revealing a bouquet of flowers, which he offered her with a confident smile. Dahlias, pink ones.
“Hi, Julie,” he said, voice hoarse and throaty. He coughed in an attempt to clear his throat.
She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him, though something about the way he spoke made her pause. He sounded...different. She accepted the flowers, though his grip on them was a little slow to let go, like he’d forgotten he was still holding them. She paid little mind, just glad that things weren’t weird between them.
“Hey...you got a cold?” she asked, moving to let him inside.
“Uh - ” he coughed again, moving down the hall and into the kitchen, his smile faltering for a second before he replied, “Uhm, yeah, something like that.”
“Oh, I hope you feel better,” she said sincerely, waiting until he’d turned away to shoo the ghosts out with her hands, “Did you feel like that yesterday, too?”
Luke said nothing, his eyes lingering just a second too long on Nick before he raised his hands in surrender, smirking at Reggie, who mirrored him as they backed away from her flailing arms.
Nick shrugged. “A little, I suppose. But...” He turned back to look at her, leaning on the counter and resting his chin in his hand. “Not enough to miss your performance. You were great, by the way.”
“Oh, thanks!” she hummed, moving about the kitchen as she drew two (probably) clean glasses from the cupboard. “So, what brings you here?"
“Just, uh...you.” His voice lowered slightly, setting Julie’s stomach alight with butterflies.
Damn it. Clearly, her crush on Nick hadn’t completely faded - even after rejecting him flat-out. She cleared her throat, offering him a glass of the apple juice she knew he had a soft spot for; anything to ensure he didn’t hold anything against her after her rejection.
“Oh, thank you.” He took the glass with a weedy smile, examining the yellow liquid with a strange fascination. He turned it once, twice in his hands before lifting it to his lips.
An awkward pause. Julie could feel herself cringing inwardly.
“I was hoping to steal some of your time.” he continued, setting his glass down with a clunk.
“I - sure, yeah, um...for what?” She was trying to keep her voice from wavering, or going all high-pitched like it usually did when she was nervous.
His movements were smooth, too smooth, like he was making a conscious effort to be natural. She felt something prick at the back of her neck, but brushed it off. He was probably just trying to seem less nervous.
“Well, I was wondering. About your band; I feel like I’ve seen you guys perform, but I don’t actually know...what they’re like, or how they just...appear like that.”
“Oh,” Julie nodded, leaning against the counter in an attempt to appear cool and collected. “You could’ve texted me, you know, if you wanted, like...I mean, not that I’m not glad to see you, or - oh, well, not that I’m glad, but like-”
“So, the other guys in your band.” he interjected, stopping her from spiralling any further into a rambling, flustered mess. “Are you guys...close?” His gaze was focused intently on Julie, his head slightly tilted in his hands, almost like he was studying her.
Julie hesitated, fingers drumming against the edge of the counter as she picked her words carefully. “Yeah, we’re close,” she said, but even she could hear the uncertainty in her voice. “I mean, we’ve been through a lot together.”
“Hmm, that’s nice.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and he picked up the glass again, swirling it slowly, like he wasn’t entirely focused on her words anymore. His gaze flickered briefly to the back of the house, as though to suggest he was looking beyond the surface of things, maybe at the invisible connections between her and the band.
Julie noticed the small shift in his expression but couldn’t quite place it. Her stomach tightened. Was he trying to flirt again?
“So, what’s it like...being in a band with people you care about?” His tone was casual, but there was a veiled curiosity in his voice that made Julie pause.
She shifted uncomfortably. She had never quite thought about the band in those terms - not like that. “It’s...good. It’s complicated, but we make it work.” She was trying to sound confident, but wasn’t so sure why she felt the need to justify it to him. It was just Nick, after all. “Why do you want to know?”
“Just curious. You’ve got a pretty special thing going. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bond like that before...not with people who aren’t...well, really connected.”
“What do you mean by connected?” she asked before she could stop herself, her paranoia getting the better of her.
“Nothing.” He chuckled softly, almost dismissively, like he’d decided to backpedal on whatever thoughts he’d just let slip. “Just thinking aloud. You’re lucky, you know?” He stepped just a little bit closer, his tone taking on an almost soft, conspiratorial edge. “Most people never really know what it’s like to have that...real kind of connection.”
Julie shifted on her feet. Was he making a move, or was she overthinking it? He wouldn’t, surely...maybe this was what it was like to be friends with Nick. She’d never really thought of him as anything but a crush.
“Yeah, I guess.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. The conversation had taken an unexpected turn, and she was beginning to feel more and more like she was trapped in a room with an unsolvable puzzle.
Nick leaned in a bit closer, lowering his voice just enough to make Julie feel the weight of his words. “You know, sometimes bonds like that...don’t always stick, y’know, bands and such?”
Julie’s heart skipped. What was he implying? She laughed awkwardly, uncertain. “What...what are you getting at?”
He straightened up suddenly, removing any trace of weirdness he had laid down in one smooth motion. He smiled widely. “Oh, you know, I just want to make sure you’re okay. I don’t want you getting...hurt, you know? Like...if your bandmates suddenly ghosted you.”
Julie hadn’t even realized how tense her body had gotten, shoulders tight and hunched up around her neck. Something about the way he’d been talking, like he’d planned the conversation out line by line, had had her on edge - but his admission of friendly protectiveness made her do a 180.
She grinned. “Oh, we’re fine, the...yeah, the guys and me. It’s sweet of you to care, though.”
Another pause. Nick nodded softly, rubbing his hands together. “Right, well...yeah, I just thought I’d drop those flowers off for you, and make sure you’re okay. I’ll get going, before you catch my cold.”
He chuckled softly, breaking any remaining tension in two. Julie mirrored him, following him back to the front door. He turned halfway through the doorway, raising a finger as though he’d forgotten something important.
“Oh, and, by the way. Let me know if you’re in rehearsals or something. I’d love to come meet the rest of the gang. They just kind of...ghost, y’know, after a performance.”
Julie laughed, though the sound was less than natural. His choice of words, however unintentionally ironic they were, still made the hairs on the back of her neck rise.
The thought of anyone outside of Flynn and the band knowing the truth of Julie and the Phantoms...just rubbed her the wrong way. She bid him goodbye and shut the door with a heavy sigh.
Reggie emerged from the depths of the living room, Luke trailing behind wearing a pout like a scolded toddler.
“What was that about?”
Julie scoffed. What reasons could he have to be pouting?
“So, there’s one question answered.” She clapped her hands together to draw their drifting attention once more. “They can’t see you.”
“Then, why...” Luke furrowed his brow, reaching out to tug at a stray curl in Julie’s ponytail. He moved the dark strand gingerly between his fingers for a moment longer than necessary before letting it spring back into place, his point made. “Why can we touch you?”
“More importantly,” Julie added, after a tense pause, her heart rate picking up, "can you touch them?