Author's Note: I've never written fanfiction before, but I do enjoy coming up with ideas for stories and then never doing anything with them. Which is almost tangentially related, by the broadest possible metric. One day my friend, AberrantScript, suggested I make an attempt at actually writing one of these ideas, and after emphatically declaring that I had no intention of doing so, here I am now writing up this author's note. Time makes fools of us all, I suppose.
"I probably could have thought this through a little better", Luna Loud opined sardonically, as a deluge of rain poured down around her, and thunder rumbled ominously in the distance. Her clothes were drenched, her bones were chilled, and her makeup wasn't so much running as it was fleeing. Her hair wasn't faring much better, the grimy water having robbed its bright pink of much of its lust. However, that was the lesser of evils by far. After all, it was only a wig.
Even if the unfamiliar streets that sprawled around here weren't utterly devoid of life, there would have been little chance of passersby recognizing the waterlogged twenty-something as Lulu, international pop sensation and mega-starlet.
"Be careful what you wish for", grumbled Luna, finally picking a direction and trudging forward.
She'd often expressed a desire for some degree of anonymity over the years, but Luna "Lulu" Loud had said a lot of things over the course of her career, with little regard for her ability to actually make those things happen. That she was going to take up her guitar again. That she was going to start writing her own music again. That she was going to do something about the color of that god-awful wig. But at the end of the day, it was all talk. Lulu was what she was now, and quite likely, all she ever could be. Because ultimately, in spite of the pitfalls that came with stardom, Lulu was wealthy, successful, and loved. Deviating from that course, and failing, would mean acknowledging that Luna Loud was...not.
So, she sucked it up. She smiled when she was told to smile, she wore the clothes and the ridiculous wig, and she regurgitated the latest iteration of the record company's safe, prepackaged bubblegum pop-music on demand. What version were they on now? "This is Truly, In Actuality, What Everybody Wants, For Realz This Time"? Say what you will about the music industry, but while her songwriters were certainly lacking in creativity, their ability to beat material from that particular horse was an art-form unto itself.
Luna frowned as she attempted to concentrate through the cold, and the wet, and the persistent pounding in her head. She'd been at a...party? A contemporary's birthday, or something along those lines. Being a celebrity of Lulu's caliber meant attending numerous events of various degrees of banality, and they had quickly begun to blend together over time. Smile warmly (but not too warmly), try to seem interested in whatever trivialities passed for conversation, and try not to let anyone notice that a good, stiff drink in her hand was the only thing keeping her from running out of there, screaming like a lunatic.
...Except this time, it hadn't. Luna had been trying to muster a polite laugh in response to a conversation she didn't remember joining, fighting against a headache brought on by the oppressive back beat of whatever bland, overly enhanced, synthetic nightmare was being blaster over the speakers, when a familiar chorus sounded.
"La la la la la, all you really, truly, absolutely, indefensibly, categorically want is la la la la la..."
Though clouded by a miasma of electronica, that voice on the recording was unmistakably hers. Upon realizing that she'd spent the last indeterminate period of time being tormented by her own song, barely recognizable as it was, something snapped inside Luna. And she screamed.
The next thing she felt was the bracing night air, and the sensation of her designer heels pounding pavement. Lulu had left the building.
Luna ended her reminiscing with a vigorous shake of her waterlogged head, there were more immediate, important things to worry about. Cold and wet were fairly substantial concerns. Lost was another. Even with the downpour obscuring her vision, the streets were dark and unfamiliar. Most pressing, however, was her inability to call for help.
A celebrity of Lulu's caliber didn't carry her own things, she had people for that. While this was incredibly convenient at most times, some would say excessively so, it meant that Luna had quickly grown out of the habit of carrying essentials like her purse, or even her phone on her person. Handy when you had an underpaid assistant within earshot to see to your every need, considerably less so when you were alone and lost in the middle of a sprawling metropolis.
Another sigh followed by a violent shiver. Colder, wetter, and more miserable still. Followed by release.
"FUCK!", Luna roared into the darkness, channeling all her rage and misery into her cry. The all too brief moment of satisfaction brought by her outburst was swiftly ended by the sputtering that followed. Colder and wetter, and now with the brackish taste of rain water in her mouth and the sounds of her own frustrations literally echoing around her, Luna Loud was certain that things could not get any worse. That's when she heard the footsteps.
Luna looked up to see a figure emerge through the darkness and the rain. Though obscured by the elements, the ambient lighting of the city was sufficient to lend clarity of form to the stranger, if little else. Tall and wearing a raincoat. A large bag in one hand, its contents not readily ascertainable, and a black umbrella in the other. The accessory and the dank environment collectively obscuring his face from her view. Which, to Luna's waterlogged mind at least, lent an air of menace to his frame. He paused briefly, just long enough to make Luna wonder if she'd managed to go unnoticed. Then he resumed his march, forward and towards her, purpose evident in his stride.
Luna let out a slight gasp, and began backing away, the cold and the wet now giving way to an entirely new sensation. Fear. The city streets were not kind to young women who were stranded and alone in the dark. And she, with her clothing designed for fashion rather than function, now soaked near to translucence, and that damnable wig acting as a hot pink lighthouse in this storm, she would present a particularly enticing target. The figure quickened his pace, and as Luna attempted to respond in kind, her left heel, having been subject to rigors far beyond its intended purpose over these last few hours, finally gave way.
Gravity took its course and Luna fell, her head slamming upon the rain slicked ground. Cold, and wet had now been replaced by pain, but fear was still present. The staccato of footsteps further quickened, briefly coinciding with the racing of her heartbeat, then silenced. The distance had been closed, and the figure now stood over her. He knelt down, and as consciousness began to slip from Luna's grasp, the shadows receded, and proximity granted depth and detail to the stranger. Pale hair. Thin lips parted in surprise and dark inquisitive eyes, now softened with concern.
"Lincoln?" She murmured, her surprise barely audible amidst the sounds of the pouring rain. Consciousness fled, and her world went dark.
Warm and dry were the first sensations Luna's brain registered, as consciousness returned to her. Pain followed shortly after, apparently having seen fit to make itself at home. Luna instinctively raised her hands to her face in an attempt to massage the sensation away, but the suddenness of the motion simply exacerbated the situation. Luna let out a decidedly undignified groan.
A chuckle, followed by a familiar voice.
"I think I've actually missed that sound."
Luna forced her eyes open, rose and turned to the sound of the voice, so as to confirm what her senses were telling her. She winced at the sharp flash of pain that followed. It was a repeat of her earlier mistake, but a worthwhile one. Peering through eyes that were blurry from her ordeal, and still light sensitive from her involuntary nap, Luna took in the familiar form of her host.
Tall and lanky, with shoulders slightly tensed in the makings of a perpetual shrug. Hair, verging on shaggy and the color of freshly fallen snow despite his relative youth. Something about the pigmentation, she'd never really grasped the specifics, but it had been that way for as long as she could remember. Lips slightly upturned in a shy smile, revealing teeth that were slightly too large for his frame, even into adulthood. He'd always been sensitive about that, but she'd always compared him to an adorable bunny rabbit. Which, in hindsight, had probably just made things worse.
The man before her had grown considerably since she'd last seen him, but he was still very much Lincoln Loud, little brother extraordinaire, and her apparent savior.
Luna tried to come up response, any response, but nothing was forthcoming. The two stared at each other from across the room, their silence stretching long past companionable and well into uncomfortable. Thankfully, Lincoln took it upon himself to break the silence.
"I didn't know how long you'd be out, so I thought I'd fix up something warm. You can have this one." He closed the distance, physically at least, and gently slid a mug into her hands.
"Careful, it's still hot", he cautioned. Then, once he was certain she wasn't going to scald herself, he returned the way he had come.
Luna took a cautious sniff of the beverage, followed by a shallow sip. It was quite hot, but through the heat came a sweetness both familiar and welcomed. Cocoa. Dad's recipe. She'd never had the knack for it herself, but Lincoln apparently had.
As she grew accustomed to the heat of the beverage, Luna took stock of her situation. She was on the couch of a small, sparsely decorated apartment. Lincoln's, presumably. She managed to catch a glimpse of her reflection in the nearby television and found herself surprised at the image staring back. Short cut brunette hair, and freckles that were normally concealed by makeup. Luna's face, not Lulu's. It was a little depressing as to just how novel that was.
The sound of footsteps announced her brother's return. She looked up to see Lincoln, a fresh mug in one hand, the other scratching the back of his head awkwardly. She then realized that the couch was the only place to sit, and she was currently taking up the lion's share. She slid to the side, and Lincoln planted himself in the now unoccupied space, nodding his thanks.
The pair sat in silence once more, though thankfully this time it was much shorter lived.
"Your clothes. I, uh, I have them drying in the other room."
Luna looked down at herself and noticed that she was currently dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and sweat pants. Presumably Lincoln's, given that he was dressed similarly. Definitely not the sort of thing Lulu would wear. Crimson spread across Luna's cheeks as it occurred to her that the only explanation for her change in attire was that her little brother had undressed her.
Lincoln blushed in turn, apparently deducing her thoughts. "You were drenched. Would you rather I'd left you dripping like a well-used dish rag?" He asked, defensively.
Luna found it genuinely difficult to decide which of the two outcomes would have been the most terrible and decided to push past it.
"It's fine", she whispered, trying to keep the embarrassment out of her voice.
She took a few heartbeats to calm herself. "Thanks", she finally said. "For what you did out there".
"None needed", he replied, chuckling weakly. "You come across a drowned celebrity out in the wild, the least you can do is offer to dry them off."
He paused, his body language indicating that he was searching for words and finding none.
"Look, are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?". Apparently, he'd decided to cut to the middle of things.
"Seems like there's a few of those", Luna countered wryly.
"Any of them. All of them. Something? Please?" His voice cracked slightly on the last word. Her baby brother had always been adorable when he was flustered, it was good to see that some things never changed.
"It's just that, I've missed you. We've, miss you. It's been...too long."
It had been years. Years since she'd left home, with stars in her eyes, her guitar on her back, and songs in her heart. Years since the endless line of rejections. And years since, when things seemed darkest, she'd been offered a unique opportunity.
Luna Loud was a nobody, she'd been told. Her songs were too simple, too folksy. Not the sort of thing that would play well with a mainstream audience. But with the right backing, the right coaching, the right style, anybody could be a star. All she'd had to do was sign on the dotted line.
Lulu had become an overnight sensation. He songs topping the charts, her merchandise flying off the shelves. It hadn't mattered that she didn't write the songs. Or that, objectively speaking, they were all fundamentally the same song. She was a star, and that was the important thing. Wasn't it?
Luna took stock of the room around her. That it was considerably below the usual level of opulence she surrounded herself with went without saying. After all, the average palatial estate fell well below her usual standards. Worn floorboards. Paint, mismatched in some places, peeling in others. Little in the way of decor. The couch, a coffee table. The television, with a game console of some kind attached. Presumably whatever he'd use to make the delicious cocoa she continued to nurse. And, to her surprise, an old drafting table. She placed her mug down and stood up, finding herself gravitating towards her brother's work place.
The table was aged, but clearly saw use. Loose sheets of paper littered the surface, depicting super heroes, dragons, robots, and all kinds of other fantastical things. A sizeable pile of crumpled up paper balls had collected on one end of the table. Rejects, presumably, but their numbers paled in comparison to the sheer amount of imagination that was on display. At the center of it all was a tablet, its worn screen a testament to its frequent use.
Lincoln cleared his throat behind her, the sound startling Luna and ending her reverie.
"My pet projects" he said, his voice steady but his body language awkward and nervous.
"Comics", he clarified.
"Mostly. I get to do commissions on occasion, which brings in a little money, but mostly I draw this stuff in my down time. After work."
His fidgeting stabilized as he went on, soon disappearing entirely. He was gaining confidence as he warmed up to the subject.
"I've always loved this stuff, you know, and I have so many ideas in my head. But there's only so much time to draw, so I'm trying to lay some foundation down. Pitch in with more established groups, get my name out there. I've got my own stuff though. Here, let me show you something…"
Luna drifted to the side slightly, allowing her brother to reach past her and start rifling through his collections. She smiled, taking pleasure in seeing him so animated all of a sudden, gesticulating emphatically as he tried to figure out how to translate his artistic conceptions into something more palatable for her to understand. Then, as Lincoln busied himself with searching for another batch of drawings he'd wanted to show her, she found herself looking around his apartment again. This time, really looking.
Details she'd glanced over during her previous observation suddenly made themselves more apparent. A backpack and hiking boots, both coated with mud, and presumably well used. Certificates and awards for art competitions, mostly runner up and consolation prizes, but a few actual placements were scattered around. A tackle box and fishing rod. Some modeling glue and little plastic bits scattered around, presumably intended to be used together. But, most notably of all was that she'd missed the photographs. Lincoln with their sisters. Their parents. His friends, some of them girlfriends, perhaps.
Lulu had living spaces to spare, all over the world. Each unmatched in its opulence. But somehow, this tiny apartment felt considerably more lived in. More than that, it felt like a home.
Luna hadn't noticed the tears running down her face until she heard Lincoln's startled cry.
"Aw geeze, I'm sorry Luna. We were supposed to be talking about you, and I got carried away. Shoot, uh…"
Seeing her little brother state of distress broke Luna out of her melancholy, and she did something she hadn't done in a very long time. She laughed. Long and loud, the sounds echoing around her brother's tiny living space.
Suddenly, she lurched forward and wrapped her arms around him, her peels of laughter muffled as she buried her face in his chest.
Though he was still confused by her behavior, Lincoln's body knew what to do, and instinctively drew her deeper into the hug. Louds were professional huggers, and Lincoln was one of the best.
They stayed that way for a time, each basking in the other's familiar warmth. She couldn't say how long exactly, but she eventually regained control of herself. And as her laughter subsided, she found herself comforted by the sound of her brother's heartbeat.
"I missed you too", she said, at last.
Lincoln, both delighted and embarrassed at her show of affection, attempted to push on through.
"Look, Lu. I know you've got your own thing going on, and I'm proud of you for what you've accomplished. But I see you out there in the world, and I worry. Especially after tonight. So I guess what I really wanted to ask was…are you okay?"
Luna paused, both to collect her thoughts, and to enjoy her current position just a little longer.
"I don't think I've thought about it all that much, to be honest. But right now, I think I'm feeling better than I have in a long time".
"Night's not over, Lu. If you want to talk, I'll listen."
"I'm gonna have to borrow your phone at some point. My manager's probably freaking out. But yeah, I think I'd like that."
"Great", he said, the steadiness of his voice betrayed by the broadness of his smile.
"I'll make more cocoa".