Dear Dahlia // B1

[19]

Luke's P.O.V.

My head hurts.

"I'm going to go look for Alex," I say, getting off the couch.

"Okay," Julie replies. "Tell him we need to start rehearsing for the dance a-sap."

"Will do," I sigh, trying to hide my eye roll. The dance. As much as I was happy we got our first gig, I really didn't want to play in for Dahlia and her little boy toy. Especially if Julie expected us to perform at least one slow song.

I poof out of the room and to the front of The Orpheum. I guess, it has become my new place to clear my head. I mean, it is the last place I was alive. Alive and hours away from becoming legendary.

Maybe I should be grateful for those bad street dogs. If I didn't die when I did, I would have gotten old. I wouldn't have met Dahlia. She would have grown up listening to my music and I'd be old enough to be her dad. I shake my head quickly after that thought. That really isn't something I want to think about.

But Dahlia is.

I sit cross cross on the sidewalk. Dahlia sits like this on the floor of the garage sometimes. Whenever she's into a drawing, she'll lean over it like this for hours. Or she'll move to the couch and prop her sketchbook up on her thighs. While we're practicing I can see her head bobbing to the music from the corner of my eye, usually its offbeat and reminds me of a bird, but it makes me smile.

I really like when she's been working on a sketch, obviously getting angry with it multiple times, and she's concentrating so hard that she sticks her tongue out just a little bit. The best part is that she doesnt even know shes doing it. I've even seen her drool a couple times. That's when she finally stops looking at her drawing.

I almost went through her sketchbook once. It was nearly impossible. I mean, she sleeps with at least one of her hands on the thing. But by the time I got it from her and had it sitting on the table, I couldn't bring myself to open it. I still don't know why, but it felt wrong. I know how important that book is to her, how important her privacy is. I couldn't possibly destroy that and betray her trust.

It did make me smile when she said her little boy toy complimented her drawing of me. But the happy feeling went away when I realized what that meant. She had shown him her drawings. Which means that he's in. And I'm not.

I put my head between my knees. That's not what I came here to think about. I came here to not think about that. I just want to clear my head.

But it feels like there is a huge brick in front of me and no matter how much I try to move it, it won't go away. It just sits there and stares at me. And right now, it's screaming those words that came out of Dahlia's mouth.

"I think Luke is cute, but I don't see him that way."

I tried to not look obviously hurt when she said it, but I know that I failed. I guess, part of me figures that maybe she would start to have feelings for me by now. I know that I have feelings for her. As much as Reggie tells me my chemistry is with Julie and how well we sing together, I can only see Dahlia. When I sing to Julie, I just see Dahlia's face. When I write duets with Julie, I write about Dahlia. When I talk to Julie, I just hear Dahlia's voice.

And maybe it's just part of them being twins that makes it so easy for me to picture Dahlia, but I always feel like she's there. And I know that on Saturday, it will be her there. But she won't be with me. In fact, she'll be with someone else totally better than me, and totally alive.

I can feel a tear rolling down my cheek. I wipe it away, confused. It surprises me that I can cry. Not just because I'm a ghost, but because I don't really cry about things. I didn't when I was alive either. Well, except for my mom.

My mom. She would like Dahlia. I wonder, if Dahlia had been around back then, how Mom would've reacted if I brought her home. Would she force her to make cookies with her? Come to my gigs with her?

Maybe, but probably not.

I guess, I would never know anyway. I'm dead now and Dahlia wasn't around back then and it's been over 25 years since I saw my folks.

"Hey, buddy," I hear Reggie's voice next to me.

I quickly wipe my face and look up at him. "Hey, Reg."

"I figured I would find you here," Reggie says, holding his hand down to me.

I take it and he hauls me to my feet. "Yeah, I just needed a second. Julie's squealing gave me a headache."

"Are you sure that's what was bothering you?" Reggie asks.

I think for a moment, then laugh, "Yeah, man."

"Look, if it's about Dahlia and Tyler-"

"It's not," I cut him off. Fricking Tyler. "Let's just go find Alex, yeah?"

The last thing I want is to talk to Reginald about Dahlia's little boy toy Tyler.

A.N.

Hehe. Three in one night? (Even though I have school tomorrow?) I think yes.

Okay, so I like being in Luke's head. I feel like it's way more stream of consciousness writing and I kinda like that. Luke's got a lot of feelings and it's great to just throw them all in there.

Anyyywhoooo...

Hope you liked this chapter (:

💀✌🦋😘❄😳🐍😎🏳️‍🌈🤠🥁

-redd

P.S. since it's so late at night and I am definitely overly tired, I'll probably be coming back to fix spelling/grammar errors and things like that. So just big thank you for bearing with me💙💙