//Discontinued// sorry
"Expect the unexpected."
For Beverly, all it took was death. For Reggie, all it took was the love he never thought he'd find.
What started as an innocent crush on the drummer's younger sister blossomed into an infatuation with...
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'giving up'
What do you think dying feels like?
What do you think dying feels like? Beverly had asked the boys once after a band practice, her gaze held firmly on the ceiling, where the evening sunlight was creeping in through the slits in the wooden panels.
They'd turned to her, alarmed by the sudden question, and how little emotion she seemed to hold in that moment. For weeks after the interaction, they'd beaten themselves up over not pressing the issue, over not asking what had made her ask that question.
"What?" Luke had asked, glancing at the boys, who shared equally concerned looks.
"I read somewhere that just before you die, there's this moment of relief . . . when you just stop feeling. The pain leaves, and it's just . . . it's liberating. Like your body just shuts down, and your brain stops working, and you're at peace because it's finally over and you can't disappoint anyone anymore."
A deafening silence filled the room, the boys exchanging another round of worried looks, no one daring to say anything. Then, she turned away from the ceiling, turning her head to the left to make eye contact with them.
"You're not thinking about," Reggie paused, "k-killing yourself, right?"
"Dude," Alex smacked his shoulder. "Of course she's not. Right, Bev?"
She didn't reply right away, playing with the pendant she'd gotten for her birthday, "No. I was just curious."
That afternoon replayed on a loop in her head as she wandered around the city of Los Angeles, hopelessly praying that the boys had only been playing a trick on her before the show. For over an hour, she searched every spot she could think of. The movies. The pier. The cafe-bar. Even the school, and nothing.
She hadn't really expected them to be there, either. She knew where they were. But for some reason, her brain couldn't come up with the location of the ghost club. Her memory seemed to be hazy from the moment Willie had met them in Hollywood, and the moment they'd entered the ghost club.
You wouldn't even know this place existed unless you're invited, she groaned at the memory. Pulling at her hair, tears threatened to spill from her sockets, out of both frustration and despair.
She closed her eyes, feeling a tug at her stomach just before she found herself standing across the street from the Orpheum. The neon lights made a buzzing sound, illuminating the sidewalk, where people were lined up in anticipation for the concert.
Julie walked over to Flynn, who sat in one of the armchairs, indulging in the near-empty bowl of cheetos. She set it aside as Julie approached, a look of concern etched onto her face.
"Something's wrong," she sighed. "They were getting those jolts pretty bad as I was leaving. And they wouldn't stand me up again. They must've run out of time."
