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25yearsofcrying · 3 years

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Julie and The Phantoms

Summary: Trying my own hand at JATP novelization, using the show rather than the novel or the scripts. I’m sure it’s been done before but there’s never enough Julie and the Phantoms, right? If nothing else, I have an excuse to rewatch every single scene of the show all over again.

CHAPTER 4: clocks move forward

Luke

We haven’t figured out our predicament by the time the girl comes back. She is pretty, but mostly she is fierce. She holds a cross in front of her as if she was on a hunt for vampires as she says: “Are you still here… whatever you are?”

I look at the guys. We have figured one thing so far: we’re ghosts and ghost travel is easy. We can teleport, sort of, poof from one point in space to another in an instance. No more laws of physics for us.

“I know I saw something. I’m not crazy!” She sounds certain about it, not like she is trying to persuade herself.

“Well, we’re all a little crazy,” I say as we poof into the doorway right behind her.

She spins around and holds the cross as far as her arm will reach… And she screams again. Loud. She has a powerful set of lungs if her screaming is anything to go by. Even as ghosts, we have to cover our ears.

“Oh my God!” yells Alex. “Please stop screaming.”

Dogs are howling somewhere in the neighborhood. The girl calms down enough to speak. But when she does, it’s a string of nonsense.

“Who are you? And what are you doing in my Mom’s studio?”

“Your Mom’s studio?” I repeat, disbelieving. I’m not someone you can fool easily, I’ve never been. And I know this space like I know the back of my hand. I’ve spent a lot of time here in the past few months. It’s home. “This is our studio. Trust me.” I walk past her into the small building, determined to prove my point. I’m clearly correct and won’t accept otherwise. “My…” Alright, so some things have changed since yesterday. I bounce on top of the grand piano to examine the space from there. “The grand piano is new…” I look around. “And…” Why does everything look so off? I’m not the most organized person, but I know what my band’s studio looks like. “And… and… My couch!” I yell at the familiar sight and bounce over to the piece of furniture and flop down onto it. I’ve missed it. Lying on it gives me new perspective of the studio. I feel unnerved. “That is definitely not my six-string,” I say uncertainly, pointing to the instrument near my head.

Disturbed, I get up, gesturing for the girl to give me a moment. “Can you give me just one second? Just… give me a second. Thank you.”

I grab Alex and Reggie by their shoulders and pull them aside. “Guys, what’s going on?” I ask, frantic. I haven’t felt this bad since I realized we were dead and wouldn’t get to play the Orpheum. “How did she get her stuff in here so fast?”

“Maybe…” Reggie is the first one to come up with a logical conclusion. He sounds a little worried when he says: “Maybe she’s a witch. There’s chairs floating on the ceiling.” He points up to the proof.

Instantly, Alex protests: “There’s no such thing as witches.”

“You sure? I used to think there was no such thing as ghosts.”

I have to take Reggie’s side on this one and I nod. “Ok, so we’re going with witch?”

Although Alex is ready to agree that Reggie has a point with the ghosts, he doesn’t seem persuaded. “No, we are not going with a witch,” he says firmly. People think that because Alex is a little anxious, he doesn’t speak up, but Alex is no pushover and he proves it now as he takes control of the situation. “She is not a witch. She’s just scared. Ok, let someone with a softer touch handle this.”

Then he proves he has a little too much confidence in his softness as he turns to the girl. “What are you in our studio?” he asks her, enunciating each word.

It doesn’t work and instead of answering, the maybe-witch shoves her cross towards Alex. And through him. Her hand and the cross both go through his chest. He flinches and she recoils.

“Oh my ghost, how did you do that?!” she yells.

“Okay, you don’t get it…” Alex turns to us, half annoyed, half helpless. “Clearly, she doesn’t get it.” Back to the girl, frustration evident in his voice and gestures both, he says: “We’re ghosts. We’re just three ghosts and we’re really happy to be home. So thank you for the flowers, they really brighten up the room.”

Sensing that his explanation might need expanding as well as an opportunity to introduce ourselves properly, I add: “We’re in a bang call Sunset Curve.” And without missing a beat, Reggie says: “Tell your friends!”

“Last night was supposed to be a really big night for us,” I continue, willing the girl to understand. “It was gonna change our lives.”

Alex gives me a look. “I’m pretty sure it did.”

“This is freaking me out,” the girl says honestly. She does look freaked out, I can’t deny that. She takes something out of her pocket, a thing the size of a calculator.

“What’s that?” I asked, trying to see the device in her hand. “What are you doing?” It doesn’t look like another weapon like the cross.

“It’s my phone,” she answers before snapping at herself instantly. “No! Stop talking to them. They aren’t real. There’s no such thing as cute ghosts.”

Despite our situation, those words please us. “Oh, think we’re cute?” Reggie asks and seems to grow about an inch with the words. The girl gives him a look and turns her attention back to the phone. I’ve never seen a phone quite so small.

Alex asks, in his anxious-but-trying-to-sound-friendly voice: “Who you calling?”

“I’m Googling Sunset Swerve.”

“Sunset Curve,” we correct unisono. Reggie even adds a little curve drawn in the air with his finger to tell her what we mean. Distracted by the need to give her the proper information, I barely register that I’m not sure what she’s just said. Must be some local slang.

She frowns at her phone. “Oh, there is a Sunset Curve. You did die.” Before I can tell her that we told her so, she continues. “But not last night. After we died, all we did was go to that dark room where Alex cried.”

“I don’t think---” Alex’s voice goes an octave higher. “I think we were all pretty upset.”

What she’s said makes no sense. “B--- but that was just for like an hour.” I glance around at the studio that looks so familiar and not. “We just showed up here.”

She sighs. “Look. I’m just telling you what my phone says. See?” Turning the device towards us, she shows us what looks like an article accompanied by a picture of our band. “You died in 1995, when you were 17. It’s now 2020.”

Reggie gives her a curious look, while I’m still processing. “So, this is the future?”

“Wait,” Alex says. “So… So it has been 25 years. I have been crying for 25 years? How is that possible?” He sounds on the road to hysteria.

“Well, you’re a very emotional person,” Reggie points out, not unreasonably.

“I’m not!” Alex snaps, so much emphasis on not he can be barely heard by the human ear at this point.

Just then, a kid marches into the studio. He is all confidence for his tiny size. “Thought you were afraid to come out here,” he says, addressing the girl and not sparring any of us a glance. “You talking to your ghost friend? How does he look? Is he hideous.”

Alex elbows Reggie, clearly ready to pay him back for Reggie’s earlier observation. “He can see you.”

“No, he can’t,” the girl says. The kid walks past us and doesn’t seem to register our proximity at all.

“What?” the boy frowns.

“What do you want?” she deflects with a groan.

“A normal sister, for starters.” He spreads his arms and his hands pass through me and Reggie, standing on either side of him. I jump, but it doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t really feel like much, if I’m being honest. It’s just… weird. He doesn’t seem to notice. “Stop being weird and come eat.”

He turns around and walks away, back towards the main house. It makes me wonder how much of it has changed in twenty five years. Twenty five years. A quarter of a century. We’ve been dead longer than we’ve been alive. It’s wild.

“He couldn’t see you,” the girl says, concerned.

Alex replies: “That’s usually how ghosts work.”

It doesn’t seem to move her much. If anything, she looks done with the situation. “Look, I’m very sorry for what happened to you guys, but this isn’t your studio anymore. You have to leave.” And she sets off to follow her brother.

I can’t let her leave. I don’t know why, if it’s that she is the one person we’ve talked to who can see us, or because she has the answers, or because this place is hers and not ours anymore… “But wait!” I call after her. “We--- We didn’t get your name.”

She stops and turns to look at us. “It’s Julie.”

We have a name! First step towards establishing a connection. Perhaps she won’t abandon us just yet. “Cool,” I say. My voice is a little shaky. I still haven’t processed much and trust be told, our new friend is surprisingly intimidating. “I--- I’m Luke.” I take a step forward and she, still unimpressed with us apparently, rises her cross. I jump back. Not because I think it can hurt me, but because I don’t want to piss her off. Instead, I gesture to the guys. “And this is…”

“Reggie. I’m Reggie.” He smiles and waves.

Alex gives her a wave, too. “Alex. How’s it going?”

“Ba-da,” I say weakly. Her glare should be bottled and sold as air conditioning measure. It gives me chills.

“Ok?” she says and, not waiting for any more attempts to find common ground, she walks away.

“Julie seems nice,” says Reggie with a soft smile.

It earns him a disbelieving look from Alex. “Did you miss the part where she kicked us out or…” At Reggie’s genuinely confused expression, he shakes his head. “Yes. Ok…”

Safe to say, our afterlife is off to a weird start.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #jatp fic #julie molina #luke patterson #alex mercer #reggie peters #my jatp novel

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