STARDUST ⭑ LUKE PATTERSON

sixteen and a half

"I'M KINDA GLAD I DON'T KNOW WHERE MY PARENTS ARE," Reggie voices. Him and his two other friends were lounging in the studio, waiting for Julie to come home and rehearse.

"Yeah, me too," Alex says solemnly. He also never had the best relationship with his parents. After coming out, they were quick to disown him. Sunset Curve and Emmy were his family. "I still wonder what they're doing though."

"Do you ever wonder where Emmy is?"

With that, Luke takes his guitar and flashes out. Reggie stares at the empty space his friend once occupied.

Stupidly, he looks at Alex. "Was it something I said?"

"You are truly something else," the blonde mutters.

Meanwhile, Luke appears in a familiar four wall room he thought he would only see again in good spirits. The dressing room was a little different, but the couch was the same. The mirrors and the lights were different, and there were more posters of bands that had headlined there. There was nothing of Sunset Curve though.

He sits on the couch, guitar in lap. Luke takes a deep breath. "Hi, Emmy," he whispers. He pauses, as if she'd answer. "It was really hard to see my mom after...you know. And if it was that hard to see her, I just knew it would've been a thousand times worse seeing you."

Luke strums softly at his guitar, then putting it beside him with a sigh. He stands up, walking around the room, feeling the same hole in his chest grow a little bit bigger.

Through hazy memories, blurry pictures, he could still see the crestfallen expression on Emmy's face. He didn't mean to hurt her. He just had to make sure, and God, did he do it in the worst way possible.

"I don't think I could see you grownup," he admits. "I always knew that if we ever went our separate ways, and we bumped into each other anywhere: the grocery store, movie theater, our home. I just know...I just know I wouldn't be able to see you with your husband who wasn't me, and kids that weren't mine, and still be okay.

"I wonder if you got that garden you always wanted, or that library. Oh my God, or that bakery. You couldn't bake for shit and you still thought you had potential to be a pastry chef.

"There's a lot of things I didn't say that I should've said that night." Luke throws himself against the back of the couch, covering his face with a tired sigh. "God, I miss you. I'm so mad at the world, and I know I can talk to Alex and Reggie, but they're not you."

Luke reaches over the couch, grabbing his guitar. "I wrote you a song," he states. "Without your help, so don't fucking laugh when it sounds like shit."

He starts to play a soft sounding song, leaning into his guitar.

"Wait, don't tell me.

Heaven is a place on earth.

I wish I could rewind all the times that I didn't

show you what you're really worth..."

Luke messes up a chord, mumbling an apology to Emmy.

"The way that you held me,

I wish that I had put you first..."

He smiles shyly.

"I was wrong, I admit.

Numb from your kiss,

while you were slipping through my fingertips."

He stops for a second. "That was pretty good for not having you with me," Luke gushes. He smiles stupidly. "The chorus is kinda cheesy. I'm probably rolling in my grave wherever the hell I'm buried. Okay ready?

"Taking every breath away,

with all of the mistakes I made.

From all the letters that I saved,

this is everything I didn't say.

I wish I could've made you stay..."

Luke frowns deeply before shaking his head.

"And I'm the only one to blame.

I know that it's a little too late.

This is everything I didn't say.

"Emmy Rosario, I just know you'd eat this shit up," Luke cheers, kicking his feet up giddily. He pauses for a second. Chewing on his bottom lip, he could imagine Emmy in a small house.

She would have her own music room, a grand piano that's either sleek with that new instrument glow, or it's old and creaky that she found at an antique store.

There would be one large window, or multiple ones. She always liked the sunlight. She said it made her feel like a tree, soaking it all in. Luke always thought she was just bullshitting. Now, sitting in the dark, concrete walls of the Orpheum, he knew better.

"Wake me up now,

and tell me this is all a bad dream.

All the songs that we wrote,

all the wrongs that I hoped would erase from your memory.

Holding onto, a broken and empty heart.

Flowers I should've bought,

all the hours I lost,

wish I could bring it back to the start."

He continues into the chorus, voice raw with emotion, but still so hollow. His arm shreds at his guitar, tears forming in his eyes but he didn't think he should cry. Luke didn't think there was a point.

"I hope you know, for you I'd sacrifice,

to make things right, oh, oh.

Someday I'm sure, we'll pass each other by,

until next time..."

Luke jumps back into the chorus, repeating it with everything he's been thinking about since sitting in that dark waiting room. As he plays the last chord, chest heaving, he closes his eyes.

He didn't see her red face, or clenched fist. He didn't hear her shouting, or even the sound of her broken sob as they stood without talking in this very room.

Instead, Luke sees Emmy. He remembers the way they danced, or how she stepped on his feet. He listens to her manic laughter as he manages to obliterate an entire eggshell in their cupcake batter.

"I love you, Emmy," he says aloud.

His foot slides against the carpet, hitting something peeking out from underneath the couch. He crouches down, hazel eyes falling on a small, poorly sewn figure with a bright orange beanie.

Luke holds the doll in his hand and he smiles.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

onlyphans:
THREE MORE PARTS OHHHHH MY GOODDDD
also champagne problems was made for emmy please agree with me