There was nothing worse than death by rancid hot dogs; at least, that's what Luke thought. His heart was always full of regrets from his past. Walking out on his parents and then dying would always leave him overflowing with guilt. He thought, as a ghost, he should be doing the haunting— not his past.
But he was so—so wrong. There was one thing worse: her name was Julie. Luke always thought of Julie as a gift to him—after all, she had the voice of an angel. She gave him and his bandmates a second chance at fulfilling their dreams of being recognized musicians. They were going to the top.
Luke always thought as long as he could play music, he would be happy, and for the most part, that was true. But it wasn't until recently that he realized there was so much more to living—but he would always be dead. So what could be worse than death? Falling in love.
"Hey," Julie said, entering the garage, spotting Luke by himself writing music on the pianoforte. "Where's everyone else?"
"Oh," Luke kept writing, never meeting her eyes. "Alex is with Willie, and Reggie is goofing off with your brother."
"You look intense. Must be good. Can I see?" Julie slid in next to Luke. He didn't stop her while she read the lyrics. Her hands naturally found the keys on the piano, and she began to sing the words that came from his heart. On the downbeat, he jumped in. Singing together was like breathing.
Their eyes met like magic, and even though he couldn't touch her...he could feel her in his soul. When they got to the end, they kept in the moment—eyes on one another. His heart raced uselessly—he could never truly live in this moment.
"Life can be so mean," Julie tore her eyes away. His stomach sank.
How could he have ever believed that fate brought them together? He didn't have to question her feelings. They both knew what they meant to each other—and they both knew that it was an impossible song.
"Yeah..." Luke finally said. There were no other words needed, just music.