Chapter Text
"How's everyone doin' tonight?!"
Luke can't contain his grin as the din of the crowd grows into a cacophony when they finally notice the band on stage. They'd slipped on stage with no fanfare, waiting until the lights turned up to reveal them already in their spots, instruments at the ready. None of these people had to be here tonight, but here they were, united by music and cheering together as one; it might be his favorite sound in the whole world. Not necessarily because they're lauding the band with praise, though it certainly doesn't hurt, but because it was the reminder of why he got to do this job and how much he owed the fans. Even in just the first few rows, he recognized dozens of familiar faces from some of their earliest years. What a gift, what an honor, to have this connection with so many people, both new and old.
"It's finally time for our favorite night of the year, Swerve the Curve! Thank you for being here with us!"
"That's right, you heard him," Bobby adds with far less enthusiasm but no less delight. "It's the best night of the year. Who's been here before?!" A solid portion of the group raises their hands and hollers. "Amazing, welcome back! Who's here for the first time tonight?" An even larger section screams, the noise rivaling even some of their larger audiences despite being packed in like sardines at such a small venue.
Hometown shows are always extra magical, a reminder that in a city known for chewing up so many musicians and spitting them back out broken and limping, you are not one of them. When every company wanted the newest, shiniest, whatever-est Big New Thing, you had the endurance to make it, to prove yourself. It seemed you had to have a shtick to get somewhere these days. Something to set you apart, stand out, give you an edge. Some band out there right now was making waves using holograms to perform. Holograms! They'd trudged through the industry muck for years before Fate pulled its strings and led them to Julie.
Seven years after accidentally catcalling Julie (while actually catcalling Reggie), they were now a formidable team. At the time, she had been the A&R Rep for Black Dahlia Records but after the initial meeting with her and Rose (and many dates after that first coffee "to make up for immediately hitting on her and pick her brain"), it had become apparent to all of them that she was meant for a more prominent role in their lives. It had taken some major cajoling on their part and that mystical mom wisdom on Rose's end, but Julie had relented once all four guys sicced their infamous puppy dog eyes on her and she graduated from Artists & Repertoire to Manager. Luke had known this would take dating off the table for them, but he also knew Julie had the exact magic they needed to get where they wanted to go with their music.
He was right.
Banking on the nostalgia of low ticket prices and a small venue setting, what had started out as a brilliant campaign idea on Julie's part to garner a steady following has turned into a legendary, annual tradition. Every year, Sunset Curve hosts a showcase at The Echo, the very venue Julie and her mom first discovered them in, for a more intimate gathering to raise money for charity. If they had to have a "gimmick", he was glad this one was theirs — it was not only a way to celebrate music but an opportunity to invest in their community at the same time. Because the tickets were only ten dollars, thousands of people put in a bid and since the full price went directly to that year's charity, no one ever seemed too upset if they weren't chosen in the lottery.
"The first timers have it tonight!" Reggie jumps in. "You're in for a treat. Here's a quick rundown: we'll play a mini set of our own catalogue for you, some old, maybe some new, and after that, the real fun begins. You get to request songs for us to play. The rules are simple, stump us and the show is over! Oh, and did we mention…the stumper gets to hang out with the stumpees for the rest of the evening?! Better make it quick!"
"That's not…okay," Alex sighs from behind his kit. Ignoring Reggie's basic explanation, he clarifies that anything country, alternative/indie, pop, or rock from the 60s onwards is fair game. "If we can play a verse and a chorus, we win that round. If we can't, or we don't know your suggestion at all, which is highly unlikely, the guesser will join us backstage for our post-show ritual of Zelda & 'Za. And now what you've all been waiting for…drum roll please! Oh wait, that's my job." He smirks at his own joke even as the guys and even some of the audience roll their eyes at his antics before he gives himself an over-exaggerated paradiddle. "Tonight's charity iiiiiiis: Sunset School!"
Luke looks around for Julie at this announcement with bated breath. The house lights had been far too bright to spot her when they came out earlier. Now that his eyes have adjusted, he spies her in the middle of the room right where she said she'd be, flanked by her mom, her assistant, and her Flynn — his three favorite humans after Julie and the guys. Eyebrows drawn tight together, he knows she's trying to work something out that she thinks she should know.
Over the years, they'd given the funds raised to local groups supporting at-risk youth, children's homes, survivors of domestic violence, and various LGBTQIA+ organizations. It wasn't until a health scare a few years back with everyone's favorite mom and executive, the heart and soul of Black Dahlia Records, that they'd started to think bigger. When they'd approached Rose with the idea of donating to a research foundation in her name, she'd smiled affectionately at before she'd sat them down on the ratty old leather couch they refused to part with and gave them a firm "No, mijos". Under the insistence that she was both fine and going to be fine, not to mention that her current diagnosis was well-funded in the research department, she'd asked them to think about what mattered most to them and what impact they wanted to leave on the world. Every answer boiled down to family and music.
Reggie had been the one to come up with Sunset School, a non-profit foundation that would provide after-school music lessons for free. If they'd had a safe place to go after school, maybe he and Luke wouldn't have ended up couch-surfing through most of high school. "Plus this way, we have built-in cushy music lesson gigs waiting for us whenever we decide we no longer want to be international superstars. Or we turn eighty-two. Whichever comes first."
The dream grew and morphed as they continued to talk about it — not just music lessons, but tutoring support (Alex), conversational ESL classes for adults (Bobby), getting kids and families connected to local pro bono resources and therapists they might not know were available to them (Luke). They'd spent the last four years working behind the scenes to get Sunset School out of planning stages and into real, concrete plans. Their ducks were all in a row for the foreseeable future, but the hope was that this dream would grow too big for their own hands. That it would evolve into whatever it needs to be, and if all goes well, maybe even grow into multiple branches beyond the first one they'd be opening early next year.
To say this had been a difficult secret to keep is the understatement of the century. Julie is their "boss", sure, but she is also their best friend. You don't spend as much time together as they do and not know the in's and out's of each other's lives intimately. There had been many close calls and loose tongues reined in at the last second, but the confusion on her face gives way to admiration as Reggie pulls up a literal PowerPoint presentation on a screen behind them, complete with blueprints and mock-up photos Willie had had a hand in designing. Awe blends with pride on her face as the mini infomercial concludes with the announcement money from tonight's donations will be going towards breaking ground next week.
At the sight of her surprised, wobbly, wet smile, he knows keeping it under wraps was the right call. His sappiest smile is coming out to play, beyond delighted that he's pleased her so much, and he quickly schools his features into something slightly more professional. The blush is probably there to stay though. (Hopefully Kenny's lighting skills are enough to hide it this time). One glance to his left at Reggie tells him that he's not alone in this struggle tonight. At least he hadn't let himself look at Julie's outfit yet for fear of the slack-jawed way Reggie was taking in the checkered dress hugging all of Flynn's curves.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he vaguely hears Reggie answering a few questions and Bobby redirecting them to their mini-set. Alex counts them off, and he snaps back to it right at the last second. All of his muscle memory springs to life, his feet kicking out like all the energy in his body is itching to exit as fast as humanly possible as Now or Never begins. There's nothing in the world like hearing people scream the words you wrote right back at your face, weaving in their own harmonies, taking what was once yours and turning it into something shared, something sacred.
The physical demand playing placed on them is always overridden by the energy of the crowd, creating its own life-force, fueling them to play harder, sing louder, give more. But it is never one-sided. The fans give back just as much as they get. One of the best parts about purposefully keeping their personal set short is getting to interact more than was normally "allowed" in a concert setting.
"Alright, alright, alright," Luke pushes back sweaty bangs from his eyes and knows it's probably sticking out every which way right now. "Onto undoubtedly the best part of the evening…it's jukebox time!"
Several conspiratorial squeals dance around the room and bounce back up to his ears, but before he has time to consider why, Murder on the Dancefloor is shouted out as the first choice of the night. This specific cover is one of the few they'll do the entire version of tonight. He'd been pretty proud of how they'd "pop-punkified" it to fit Curve's sound, blending pop and rock seamlessly.
"Heyyyy, get out of our heads," Reggie whines cutely. "We were going to drop this as a top secret, super surprise cover next week. I guess there's no harm in an early performance, whaddya say Jules?"
Julie gives them a thumbs up, smiling around a straw in what Luke assumes is her typical go-to drink — a Jack and Coke (usually more Jack than Coke), which means she is officially "off duty" tonight and here to enjoy the show. Good. It had been a while since she'd been able to be anything but Manager Julie at their shows. Manager Julie might not ever fully turn off, but drinking means she'll actually let herself relax.
Props had to be given to the next person for singing out "play that funky music, white boy!". Luke sings “play that funky music right!” back to them and the guys jump right into the rest of the chorus. They have honed their craft down to a fucking art, starting and stopping in the middle of songs with ease. It's almost as impressive as their combined knowledge of multiple genres spanning several decades. From somewhere in the middle of the space a new person shouts out another oldie, sounding suspiciously like Willie if the smirk in the voice is anything to go off of. An affectionate eye roll and barely suppressed smile on Alex's face confirms that It's Raining Men is, in fact, his husband's request for the evening.
Somebody Rick Rolls them and people lean into the nostalgia, several famous soundtracks and generational favorites cropping up back to back for a little while. It's impossible not to dance to You Sexy Thing but everyone struggles not to laugh at him and Reggie sharing a mic during the chorus. At least it keeps him from singing the lyrics directly to Julie. He wasn't so lucky with some of the other songs, fighting himself not to stare at her too long during some of them.
There were far too many rumors about them dating already floating around the internet, especially after The Livestream Incident, but if he sang I believe in miracles since you came along, you sexy thing? To Julie??? It would be less disastrous to pour gas on an open flame. He would give almost anything to be able to date her again, but he admired her too much to let the world invade her privacy anymore than it already does.
The queries keep coming, but they're all quite reasonable and frankly, normal, nothing unique or surprising. While there will always be a soft spot in his heart for the songs they first learned how to play as kids, Luke knows these people have more eclectic taste than this. They wouldn't be Sunset Curve fans if they didn't know good music.
Alex pipes up, reading his mind. "I can't tell if they're just not trying tonight or if they're intentionally insulting to us with songs they think we don't know how to play."
"Yeahhh, I don't think any of them are trying to win this," Bobby deadpans back to the band. "I think they’re just trying to hear their favorite songs instead of trying to stump us."
"Nobody wants to hang out with us?!" Reggie places his hand on his hips in fake exasperation. He was thirty-one now, and yet the silly pout still worked for him every time. The entire audience laughs.
Never one to back down from a challenge, Flynn yells out Rapper's Delight . She could literally come over whenever she wants, she doesn't have to try and win in order to do that, but Reggie perks up at the request from his crush. It's not technically one of the genres she can choose from, but Luke knows they'll be letting that slide for her. Reggie won't (can't) say no to those brown eyes. Flynn and Julie have been dancing and singing along all night, but there’s a renewed energy between them when the iconic bass line starts up that makes him smile.
They're stopped dead in their tracks at Luke's impeccable lyrical rhythm through the first verse, turning to raise perfectly matching fascinated eyebrows at him. When he ad libs his own name into the song, "You see, I am Wonder Luke and I'd like to say hello", Flynn and Julie throw their heads back in laughter. He passes the next verse off to Reg and watches the laugh fall right off of Flynn's face and into dangerously, dare he say it, impressed territory. This song is far too long to play in its entirety but he definitely catches the kiss Flynn blows Reggie after they finish an extra verse, just for her. One of them is actually allowed to Do Something about their feelings, and it's not him, so if Reggie doesn't ask Flynn out after tonight there are going to be some choice words waiting for him tomorrow. Catching Julie's eye, she sends him an approving smile back and mouths "thank you".
A familiar face not too far back, Hank, calls out Freebird and everyone around him laughs.
"DEnied," Reggie sings out as Alex plays a sarcastic "bah dun tss" on the drums. It was a longstanding joke that this was one of the few options the guys were allowed to veto.
Another fan immediately follows this up with Hotel California. The solo is where they really shine, so they head straight for the verses at the end. After facing downstage for the first half of his solo, Luke turns and points his guitar at Bobby like a gun, signaling a trade off. People commonly mistake "rhythm guitarist" for just that: only rhythm. But that couldn't be further from the truth; Bobby shreds just as hard as Luke. Bobby steps one foot up onto drum riser, a classic, casual rockstar stance. This was one of the first songs they'd ever taught themselves by ear in high school and they were a well oiled machine as they rejoin for the last half, facing one another and swaying to the rhythm, completely losing themselves to harmonies of the twin solo.
Bohemian Rhapsody is up next and Luke doesn't even have to ask; he knows they'll be performing all five minutes and fifty-four seconds. Turning to Reggie with a question in his eyes, his best friend's eyes light up, immediately understanding Luke's unspoken idea. Wildly gesturing to get Bobby’s attention, Reggie dashes to meet the rhythm guitarist in the middle of the stage, practically throwing his bass at him and trading it for the red Gibson. Luke hops up onto the drum's platform and holds out his guitar while a more-than-slightly concerned Alex shakes his head no, conceding not long after Luke's pulls out his most convincing puppy dog eyes.
They'd spent a few summers before they'd made it big learning each other's instruments when they were stuck on writing, just for the hell of it. They didn't do it often so it always paid off in moments like this. People are grabbing each other or smacking each other's arms, pointing up at them with wide-eyed delight as the guys settled themselves on new instruments.
There isn't a single person there that does not join in as soon as the guys begin the a capella four-part harmony, Reggie at the helm of the piano once more. Julie, Rose, Flynn, and Willie have their arms around each other swaying, singing with their eyes closed. Alex takes lead vocals as people dramatically reenact the lyrics to one another. This. This was the magic of music. Connection. When Reggie marches up to the edge of the stage and lays in on the first guitar solo, the crowd's energy flies off the charts. The guys let the song ebb and flow, as it does, making it through "operatic" section with every single person crowing the Galileos and Bismilahs and Mamma Mias right along with them in varying octaves, playing into the back and forth nature of the lyrics.
Right when the instruments should drop back in full force, they simultaneously pause and a collective groan unleashes. It's been fun showing off, but it's time to get back to their own instruments. They let the pause go a beat longer just to tease everyone before running back to their original positions on stage and letting loose. Thunderous cheers attack them, the entire room head-banging perfectly in sync, spurring them on to finish out one of the greatest rock anthems of all time.
They take the tiniest breather to drink water and answer some spur of the moment questions before opening requests back up. Reggie hops off the stage and runs through the maze of people to hug the person that requests something off of Debut Taylor and then takes center stage with his banjo for lead vocals on Picture to Burn. Bobby is also wheedled into taking over on one his favorites, Punkrocker. His straight-faced demeanor could fool anyone, but the guys all knew how jazzed he was inside to be singing something from one of his top five favorite movies.
"Boys, I think we're hanging out solo tonight," Luke goads, unable to keep the challenging smirk off his face. It had been almost an hour and they were still taking requests. Normally by now they'd be chowing down on some pizza and destroying some teen and their friends on the N64 they always brought with them.
"How about 4ever?"
If he didn't know better, he would have bet good money that that was Julie's voice. But she's their manager and she does not request songs at this event, refusing to take away a chance from their fanbase. He looks for her anyways, and that's when he realizes it actually is her and she's smiling up at him from much closer than before.
"I think you're gonna need to be a little bit more specific there, Boss," a loud round of squeals at the use of her nickname interrupts him. "Are we talking…Beach Boys?"
Alex leans into his mic, optimistic. "Mariah Carey?"
"Mumford & Sons?" Bobby quips, ticking off more artists on his fingers. "The Format? Noah Kahan?"
Julie holds up four fingers in answer and suddenly he knows which version she wants. His snowboarding song? The only secret he's ever withheld from her?
"That's a little high for us. You wanna jump in on vocals?" he jokes, heart frozen in hope.
He'd only been begging her to join them on stage for three weeks. "Just for one song, I promise! The people deserve to hear your voice!" Actually, if he's counting how long he's been begging her to join them on vocals for the band, they're looking at five out of seven years. From the minute he'd met Julie, he'd suspected she was a musician like him. You didn't talk about music the way she did without having firsthand knowledge of making it.
When they were brought on initially, and even after they'd finally convinced her to trade her rep coat for a manager's, she kept any information about her personal experience with music close to the vest. It wasn't until Bright was keeping him up at night and dragging his heart through the mud that he'd finally gotten to confirm his theory. She made a few suggestions to words and pacing, but when she emulated going a little bit higher at the end of the chorus, he knew two things at once: 1) she was a fucking musician and 2) he, unfortunately, was a goner.
Now she's making her way through what little crowd is left separating them and his heart is in his throat. Is she really gonna…? People part to make it easier for her and he finally gets a glimpse of her full outfit. The purple flare jeans that used to belong to her mom hug every curve. Her trusty platform Converse that give her a couple extra inches and make her just the right height to—NOPE. CAN'T THINK ABOUT THAT ANYMORE. The knit halter is new though. Well, new to her, probably. Knowing Julie, it was a vintage find. It's very cute with all its purple and orange and cream colors blending together like a painting but it barely brushes the top of her high-waisted pants and that tiny sliver of skin drives him mad.
Bobby clears his throat loudly and Luke leans forward to help pull her up on stage. She turns to face the crowd, waving in that adorable tiny way she does when she gets nervous. A round of cheers goes up for the most involved and beloved manager on the scene and her smile grows into something more confident. He steps back to let the fans give their manager her dues (absolutely not appreciating the way the jean pockets have faded in such a way they highlight the cute shape of her ass)(because that is definitely not something he has been Painfully Aware Of for the past seven years) and that's when he sees it. The halter top he'd been admiring is held together in the back by two thin straps, not unlike her swimsuits in the summer. He can't breathe so he can only hope his face is doing something appropriate right now.
Julie and the guys are just staring at him, waiting. "Right, right, sorry. I've been waiting for this moment for a very long time." Do not get choked up. Do NOT get choked up. Too late. Julie glances back at him, biting her lip slightly nervously out of the line of sight from everyone in the audience. "You got this!" he mouths at her and she nods back, rolling her shoulders back and pointing to Alex, ready to be counted in.
From the minute they start playing, Julie commands the stage like a fucking goddess. It was hard enough to believe she'd given up music, but here and now, it's nearly impossible to believe she'd ever stepped foot off a stage. Performing seems as natural to her as breathing. The first verse and chorus have her laser-focused on connecting with the crowd, singing to them, reaching out to meet outstretched hands, smiling and winking at them (Oh. Does it suck as bad for her when he winks at people as it does for him right now?), but she starts moving around the stage, circling around and between each of the guys, interacting with them all throughout throughout the next and his heart drops into his toes when she sings let me take you on the ride of your life over her shoulder with a smirk before turning forward casually as if she hadn't just murdered him in front of everyone.
Luke's favorite part is coming up soon, but first he has to watch Julie sing and I wanna spend the night with you to Reggie, further emphasizing the point to Alex. He loses sight of her as she slides a finger across his shoulders as she struts behind him but then she's there in the corner of his eye again, singing come with me tonight, we can make the night last forever in Bobby's face and he can't help the stinging in his chest.
He could recite the entire list of reasons why they can't date in his sleep if you asked him to, on top of the boundaries he and Julie had established. Hell, he even appreciates the boundaries (most of the time). It's probably the reason they've been able to have a professional working relationship and friendship all this time. Doesn't mean it doesn't feel like a limb has been cut off whenever he thinks about what might have been.
A tap to his shoulder pulls him back in the present, her signal for him to take the lead on the next part and all his jealousy dissipates (because yeah, that's what all that just was). Instead of singing into his own mic, Julie holds hers out to him and they begin a very enticing exchange.
Let's pretend you're mine
We can just pretend, we can just pretend yeah, yeah
You've got what I like
You got what I like, I got what you like
Oh come on, just one taste and you'll want more
In lieu of pulling the mic back towards her, she presses her lips into the mic and the mic up against his. One mere inch separates him from the most delectable lips he'd ever tasted, the proximity causing their noses to nearly brush, as they sing so tell me what you're waiting for together. The sudden loss of her from right in front of him is staggering, but she steps back to give him space and let the music build between them. They're still moving in the same pocket, him crouched low to sell the swell of the song, Julie imitating his stance, nodding along to the rhythm of his guitar.
On the slopes, he knows exactly how to time his runs in the terrain park to hit the song's climax right as he launches himself off of a jump. Something about flying weightless through the air just as the vocals crash back in was always euphoric, but it doesn't hold a candle to how it feels to share this moment on stage with Julie. Tonight, the build is intoxicating. As soon as the lyrics come back in, they're both jumping forward at the same time.
Come on baby, we ain't gonna live forever
Let me show you all the things that we could do
You know you wanna be together
Fuck, he forgot how pertinent this song was to his own life.
She's back in his face again singing every single line without breaking eye contact, grinning the entire time until she hits the last high forever, throwing her head back and her hand stretched out wide, in what could only be described as a power stance. This might be the only time in his life he's forgotten how to play guitar. Not even when he got a concussion (and four stitches to his head) from Willie teaching him how to skateboard did he forget what his fingers were supposed to do. A quick, confused side-eye from Julie pulls him back to the forefront of his mind and he gets himself together enough to finish.
The last chords are still ringing out when people begin chanting "one more song!" and Luke looks over at Julie, not even trying to hide his "See? I told ya" smile. Julie looks at the guys and they all nod back at her, and she shrugs.
"Why the hell not?" A breathless giggle crosses her lips and he knows what song to do next.
Dropping to his knees in front of Julie, he unleashes a filthy solo, one of his top three favorites ever. She's smiling wide but tears cloud her vision. He'd grown up learning to play it by ear, but when he'd finally had access to the only live filmed version at Black Dahlia Records, he'd studied it until he could flawlessly simulate one of the best cover performances in rock history. Rose had expertly woven each of the solos from Magic Man together for one of the most tantalizing openings the world had ever seen.
Luke spots Rose in the front row now and gestures his guitar out towards her in an offering in case she wants to join them, but she just shakes her head with a smile. Maybe she just wants to watch Julie shine tonight. He couldn't help but feel the same way. Julie is lit from within the entire time, her siren call dragging him further into the depths of love he'd never be able to express to her. Tonight, he lets himself drown in it up here on stage with her. He can come back down to reality another time.
It's over in the blink of an eye to the applause of hundreds of people. That 1995 Magic Man was a once in a life time performance, but deep in his heart, he feels like another once in a lifetime performance has happened. He'd like to think the cheering was all for Julie though. He certainly continues to hype her up on stage, gesturing at the audience to prolong the well-deserved praise she'd earned until she finally directs her brilliant smile his way.
"I told you all I've been waiting for this moment for a long time. Was she not the most incredible addition to our set tonight?" More exalting cries ring out. He has a tendency to gush when it comes to Julie, to the point that people were constantly analyzing Sunset Curve interviews, wondering if his homages to her were more than just professional and he tries to hold back some. "We wouldn't be where we are today without our Girl Friday," he grins and throws his arm out in their manager's direction. "Give it up for Miss Julie Molina, everyone!"
His vision blurs and he realizes he's tearing up at the enthusiasm for Julie. She takes it all in, so gracefully and gratefully, nodding with a hand over her heart. He assumes the mic going up to her mouth is to thank everyone but the next thing he hears is "bad news" and he has to run that back as a quick replay in his mind.
"I have some good news and I have some bad news."
She's turned towards him now waiting. "Which one do you want first?"
Bad news? What bad news? Why would she need to give them bad news on such a special night?
"Like a good friend once said, "Bad news first, always." How his voice did not crack was beyond him at this point.
"The bad news is I can't be your manager anymore," she gives him the most solemn look he's ever seen in his life. The kind that means she's not messing with them. Gasps ring out through the audience, and he can't help but think one of them might have been his own. He runs his fingers through his hair, agitated, stressed, and more than a little confused about why this is happening in front of three-hundred fifty people and a bunch of cameras and phones, but he tries to fix his face. He really does. He's taking too long to say anything and even the guys won't meet his eyes. Apparently that gives her room to say more things. "Do you still want the good news?"
"Um, sure? I guess?" How is she being so jovial about this heart-shattering news?
"I can't be your manager…because I'm joining the band."