imagination || julie and the phantoms

four

❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉

"IT'S GONE."

Reggie and Charlotte stood side by side, horrified as they stared forward.

When they focused on visiting their childhood home, they expected to flash back to the past. A small three-bedroom house with a small front yard that led to the beach, where the twins would come back exhausted after surfing and have bonfires. It wouldn't be often, their parents not wanting to get noise complaints. The front porch would still be imprinted with their hands from when they were five and have a broken slab when seven-year-old Reggie crashed his bike.

Instead, there was a bike shack. The entire block changed over twenty-five years, a row of small businesses to feed off tourists. Even their neighbors, the Meyersons, disappeared to be replaced by a noodle shop. There were families and groups of friends enjoying the sunny afternoon, even playing beach volleyball, acting the complete opposite of how Reggie and Charlotte felt.

The keyboardist squatted down, unable to stand any longer as she covered her face with her hands. Her mind swirled the worst outcomes. Did this mean their parents weren't alive? Was it Reggie and her deaths that made them leave - and how soon? Did it bring them closer or deepen the rift?

Reggie rested a hand on her shoulder and blinked back his own tears. "I mean, they could've at least turned it into a pizzeria or something," he sniffled as Alex patted his back.

"I'm sorry, buddy," he said, wearing a frown.

"Lottie," Luke knelt on his best friend's other side in concern. "You gonna be okay?"

No. That's what Charlotte wanted to say. Instead, she fell back into the sand and rested her arms on her knees. She couldn't tear her eyes away from where her house used to stand as she repeated, "It's gone."

"Everything's gone," Alex sighed while Luke rubbed Charlotte's back. "Twenty-five years, gone. Friends, family...Bobby, everyone."

"Bobby, that's right," Reggie remembered their rhythm guitarist. "I guess that vegetarian lucked out. What do you think happened to him?"

Luke responded with a shrug, "He probably just got old like everybody else and moved on."

"You don't know that," Charlotte told him, her gaze still locked forward. "For all we know he's dead, too - and that applies to everyone we knew. Yeah, Reggie and I's house is gone, but that doesn't mean our parents just up and left. Something could've happened to any of them." She finally looked between Luke and the other boys. "And what exactly does that say about us if we spent our first night as ghosts wandering the strip instead of finding where Bobby and our families ended up?"

"A lot happened that day," Luke said. "It was alright for us to distract ourselves for a night."

Alex tilted his head at the guitarist. "Dude, how are you so casual about all of this?" he asked. "I mean, don't you want to find out what happened?"

Luke rose to his feet, leaving Charlotte to continue sitting in the sand. "Let's be real for a second," he said first, moving until he stood in front of a long piece of driftwood and leaned back against it. "It's not like any of us were that close to our families. My folks always regretted buying me that guitar."

"Lottie, Reg...your parents were literally a fight away from a divorce," Luke pointed out, causing the twins to exchange sad glances. "Alex, I...your parents were never cool again after you told them you were gay."

"Okay, none of us had it great," Charlotte interceded once Alex's face fell. "But what about Bobby, Luke? He was a member of the band, too, and our friend. And Mr. Chesterfield? He practically adopted us and let us live in the studio!"