Chapter Text
Evan Buckley had always loved music. It was his escape from a world that left him broken and alone. The echoing of piano keys and beautiful harmonies calmed him in a way that nothing else could. Maddie thinks he got his love for music from their Grandfather, Jonathon. He too loved music, always showing Buck his record collection when they went round for dinner. Whenever they saw each other, they would spend hours listening to new music, letting the sounds drown out the world around them. He was the one who bought Buck his first guitar. To say his parents weren’t too pleased about the gift was an understatement. The sound of guitar-strumming was just another way Evan was an inconvenience to them. So he spent most of his time in the school music room. At least when he was there no one would complain about his constant playing. It was in one of those rooms that he first started writing songs. Words spilled from his head joining the melodies his fingers created. It was the only time he truly felt at peace.
If it wasn’t for his countless hours spent in those school music rooms he never would’ve met his best friend. Yasmin Leon was also a regular in the music department, spending her lunchtimes and after-school hours enjoying an escape similar to Buck’s. For several weeks she listened to him play without him knowing, trying to work up the courage to approach the voice she became so enamoured by. But before she could, the music stopped.
Losing his grandfather, broke the strings in Buck’s heart. He couldn’t look at his guitar without bursting into tears. His grandfather was the only person who was there for him after Maddie left, he encouraged him and loved him in a way his parents never had. Without him, Buck lost his love for song.
Instead of using the music rooms to create something, he'd spend his time in there crying, mourning someone who meant everything to him. But his death did give Buck something.
Hearing the cries echoing through the room next to her, gave Yasmin the push she needed to approach a stranger she felt she already knew. The words she'd heard him sing had shown her a part of him no one had ever seen. They hadn't met yet, but she needed to comfort him as best she could. When she entered the room and placed herself on the floor next to the sobbing boy, a bond was formed and the rest was history.
They spent every second together. Neither of them had really had a best friend before each other and finally finding one another filled a gap in their lives they didn’t know they had. But no amount of encouragement and unconditional support from Yasmin could get Buck to pick up the guitar again. The only time he listened to music was when Yasmin had something to play for him.
And eventually, she left him too.
They remained in contact, talking as often as they could. He was there to celebrate her getting into Julliard and she came to visit when he graduated from the Fire Academy. They weren't in each other's lives as much as they thought they would be when they'd talked about the future, sat in those small music rooms, but they were still a part of each other. And when LA became too much for him, she was his escape.
That’s why he ended up at her New York apartment after his disastrous dinner at Bobby and Athena’s.
He spent that night crying in her arms as he recounted being pinned underneath a firetruck and almost drowning in a tsunami.
Thought when I grew up
I would be the same as the ones who gave me my last name
I would not give in, I would not partake
In the same old drugs everyone else takes
She held him until the sobs died out and when his eyes finally dried she gave him the only thing she could think of. And, for the first time in years, Buck played again. When Yasmin handed him the guitar and told him to pour his heart out, he just couldn’t stop. It was the first song he'd written in years and they did it together, bouncing off each other as the melodies came to life. That was what stopped him from reaching out to that sleazy lawyer and suing the family he'd found, ruining the life he'd created.
I'm better than that, I'm better than that
I'm living my life so I go to heaven and never come back
But look where I'm at, look where I'm at
I'm living the life that I said I wouldn't, I wanna go back
When he eventually returned to LA, things had settled. Athena had managed to knock some sense into Bobby and he was finally welcomed back to the 118 with open arms. He was home. But he couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. It was like playing the guitar once again had awoken something in him he’d buried long ago. So, the night after his first shift back, he went out and bought a new guitar.
The only person he told was Maddie. He played her the song he and Yasmin had written back in New York. She could see the spirit of their grandfather so clearly as he sang, his voice serenading her ears. Her brother had been through so much and thanks to Yasmin and the power of music, he was finally finding his way back to his feet.
For months he played in the comfort of his own home, not yet confident enough to share with the 118. He still played for Maddie though, enjoying the smile on her face as his fingers plucked the strings. He'd missed it. Music made him feel complete.
I used to call my mom every Sunday
So she knew her love wasn't far away
But now I'm all fucked up out in LA
'Cause I care more about what other people say
Yasmin couldn’t help but smile the second she walked into Firehouse 118. She’d barely stepped a foot into the building when she heard the sound of her childhood friend’s laughter bouncing from wall to wall. When he’d showed up on her doorstep months ago, he looked broken. The brightness in his eyes was gone, much like after the loss of his grandfather. He’d grown so much since the day they met and seeing him back to square one broke her heart. She did everything she could that night to bring back the spark he’d lost and deep down she knew the only thing that could do that was music. Hearing him sing again for the first time in years felt incredible. His voice, his smile, the way his fingers moved across the strings could cure her darkest moments. Music was a part of him, a part of both of them.
I used to not take chances with God's name
But it's been so long since I last prayed
And now I'm all fucked up and my heart's changed
'Cause I care more about what other people say
The song they wrote that night was special. It was months, years of frustration and pain poured from their souls, freeing them. Yasmin knew that their words would resonate with others, help bring strangers from their own darkened minds, so she wanted to share it. Let their song out into the world, but not without Buck’s blessing. That’s why she was here, in LA, standing in a firehouse, looking for her friend. This wasn’t a conversation to be had over the phone, this needed to be done face to face. And if his answer was no, then so be it. The song would be theirs and theirs only.
I wish I could shelter the boy I knew
From the constant hell I put him through
'Cause I'm all grown up and I'm black and blue
I could use some tape, I could use some glue
“Can I help you?”
“Oh yeah, hi! I’m looking for Evan Buckley, he works here right? He’s an old friend.”
“Sure, he’s upstairs!”
“Awesome, thanks!”
Yasmin bounded up the staircase, heart racing as she got closer and closer to the recognizable laughter. Finally, she saw the familiar blonde hair, sitting amongst his new family, happier than he'd been in years. Part of her didn’t want to disrupt the bubble he was in, wanted to walk away and leave him be. But then they locked eyes and that feeling disappeared.
“Yasmin?”
“Hey, Evan!”
It was comical how fast Buck got up from his chair and leapt towards her, the force behind his hug almost enough to knock her off her feet.
“Woah, nice to see you too! Gonna introduce me to your friends Buck?”
“Yeah, uhm guys this is Yas she's my friend from high school. Yas meet, Bobby, Hen, Chimney, and Eddie!”
With introductions done and pleasantries exchanged, Yasmin seized her opportunity.
“Do you think we could talk in private Buck?”
“Sure this way.”
I'm better than that, I'm better than that
I should be living my life so I go to heaven and never come back
Sat in the privacy of the locker-room, Yasmin couldn't help but feel guilty. Evan had created a life for himself here and she didn’t want to put him in a tough position. But it was too late to go back now.
“So... not that I don’t love seeing you but what are you doing here? Don’t you have a fancy record label needing your song writing expertise and angelical voice?”
“Haha very funny. I… uhm… so…” she just couldn’t seem to get the words out, worried for his response.
“Hey, Yas? You know you can tell me about anything, right? I’m here for you.”
“I know… Before I ask you this, I need you to know that there is no pressure here. I will be a hundred percent on board with whatever you choose.”
“Okay… now you’re worrying me. What's going on?”
“That song we wrote, when you came to see me… I want to release it, but only if you'll do it with me. The song is ours and I don’t want someone else’s voice to sing the words we wrote. But I do think that others could relate to it. Maybe it could mean something to people…”
“I… uhm…”
“You don’t have to answer now, take some time and think about it, okay?”
“I don’t need to think about it. I’m in but I have some conditions.”
“Anything, name it, and it's yours.”
“I’m not ready to stop being a firefighter. What I have here, this life, it's everything to me. It's all I have and I can't lose that, not for anything. Maybe you could put a different name on it, so no one knows it's me.”
“Okay, so what should we call you.”
Thought when I grew up
I would be the same as the ones who gave me my last name
Two weeks later
“Hey Hen, whatcha listening to?” Chimney asks as he joins her in the station loft.
“This new song I heard on the radio this morning, wanna listen?”
“Sure”, Hen unplugged her headphones, blasting the song for the rest of the 118 to hear.
“This is good what is it?” Eddie questioned, taking a seat at the table, his head nodding along to the beat.
“Uhm it's called What Other People Say, it’s by Yasmin Leon and Rayne.”
Buck couldn’t help the smile that graced his face.
Jonathon Rayne Buckley would be proud, his grandson was making music once again.
'Cause I care more about what other people say