Julie stands at the bottom of the driveway, her arms crossed over her chest as she stares up at the small brick house ahead of her. Such an unassuming building, yet also so intimidating.

"Are you sure about this, Jules?"

She glances back to the curb, where her best friend Flynn is sitting in the driver's seat of the car, leaning across the passenger seat to speak to her through the open window. Julie intends to keep her promise to Luke, so when Flynn came to pick her up from the airport she insisted on a detour before going home.

"Yes," Julie says. Then, before she can lose her nerve, she begins striding up the driveway.

Julie hadn't told anybody about her otherworldly experience on that night in New Orleans. How could she, when everyone would just call her crazy? Julie from a week ago wouldn't believe herself, so she can't expect anyone else to.

Besides, even if she thought anyone would believe her, she's not sure she would tell, anyway. The magic of that night was so personal. The connection Julie felt to Luke was so powerful, so unique, and in a way so fragile - she feels that if she were to share it, the magic would disperse and drift away.

Some things in life lose their power when shared.

Julie reaches the door. She stands in front of it for a long minute, trying to figure out what to say. How does she explain the note in her hand or how she met Luke? She realizes belatedly that she should have been thinking about this before, but she doesn't regret that she spent the last week thinking about other things - like Luke and her mom.

She's still trying to come up with an excuse when the door suddenly opens inward. She takes a surprised step back.

"Hello?"

Julie stares at the man in front of her. He has silver hair and a wrinkled face - late sixties, she would guess. He's wearing gold-rimmed glasses and a light-colored plaid shirt. He has kind eyes.

He doesn't look like Luke, but that doesn't deter her. Luke had said he was his step-dad, after all.

"Uh, hi. I'm Julie."

"Nice to meet you, Julie. Can I help you with something?"

"Actually, I was hoping I could help you." She pauses, then says, "Did you have a son? Luke?"

He frowns. It's a minute before he responds. "I did, yes. But that was many years ago."

"I, uh, have something from him." Julie reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a folded sheet of paper. "It's a song he wrote. I think he would have wanted for you to have it."

The man stares at her for a long moment. "Who did you say you were again?"

"Julie. Julie Molina."

"I'm Mitch. Why don't you come in?"

Julie shoots one last look back at the curb, where Flynn is watching from the car. Julie gives her a wave before turning back and following Mitch inside the house.

They step into a living room. It's small and humble, like the rest of the house that Julie has seen so far. There's an old sepia photo in a silver frame on the desk. Julie picks it up and stares at it.

"Is this Luke?" she asks, running her thumb over his image. Even though it was taken when he was very young, she could recognize those eyes anywhere.

"Yes." Mitch smiles fondly. "That was when he was two."

"Did you have any other children?"

He shakes his head. "No. Just Luke."

Julie sets the photo back down gently. Though it's an irrational thought, she wishes she could keep it. It pains her that she has nothing physical to remember him by. All she has is an hour's worth of hazy memories in the back of a bus and a CD from his band.

There's the sound of another set of footsteps and Julie looks up to see a woman with silver hair and eyes like Luke's step into the room. She immediately goes to Mitch's side, looking over Julie.

"I wasn't expecting any visitors today," she says.

Julie presses her lips together. "I'm sorry to intrude. I just had something to bring you."

"Julie here has something of Luke's," Mitch explains. Both of them turn to look at Julie with eyes that are both sad and eager.

"I - uh, my mom was good friends with one of the boys from Luke's old band," Julie says. "I found this in a box of her stuff. It's a song Luke wrote about a girl named Emily."

Julie watches closely as the older woman's mouth opens and shuts a few times. Her eyes shine, and she slowly reaches out. "I-I'm Emily."

Julie hands her the sheet of paper. "I think he would have wanted you to have this."

Emily takes the song and unfolds it with shaking hands. Mitch wraps his arm around her shoulders as they both read through it. Julie feels her eyes water as she watches them. It reminds her of the day the doctors told them that her mom was terminal. Julie had sat gently at the foot of her mom's bed and confessed to all the things she'd done over the years. She wanted to get it all off her chest before it was too late. She'd been a weeping mess, desperately asking for forgiveness and apologizing. Her mother had sat up and reached out for her, holding her tightly against her chest and rocking back and forth gently, whispering "I love you" over and over again.

Julie knows it isn't quite the same this way. Luke is gone and has been for years. But his words seem to have the same effect. Emily covers her mouth, trying and failing to hold in a sob. Mitch reaches up with his free hand and wipes under his eyes.

"I'm a musician, too," Julie says when she's sure they've finished reading the song. "Luke had a real gift. He may not have had time to make it big, but that doesn't mean his dream wasn't worth chasing. The music he created in his short time was beautiful and the world is better for having it in it."

"Thank you," Mitch says, smiling through his tears. "You have no idea what a gift this is to us."

Emily hugs the song to her chest and leans heavily against Mitch's shoulder. Julie clasps her hands together in front of her, having succeeded in her task but still feeling like there's something she's missing.

"Your mom was a friend of Bobby's?" Emily asks when she's recovered herself. Julie nods. Emily turns and opens up a drawer in the desk. "Here."

She hands Julie a photo. Julie can tell that it was taken in this very living room, though many years ago judging by the newness of the furniture that is now worn and some of the decor choices. There are four boys on a couch, arms slung over shoulders, smiles on their faces. Julie recognizes a young Trevor Wilson sitting next to Luke. The two other bandmates, Alex and Reggie, are on the other side.

Although this photo was obviously taken a few years before Luke's death - he appears to be about seventeen here - he looks almost exactly the same. He's looking at Bobby, a wide smile that reveals his teeth stretching across his face.

"He looks so happy."

"He was." Emily smiles a little, looking at the photo. She turns back to the drawer and pulls out another one. It's a wallet-sized photo, just of Luke. He's actually looking into the camera in this one, his eyes shining the way Julie remembers them. The photo is from his waist up, the top half of his guitar visible in the bottom part of the frame. He's wearing the beanie Julie had seen him wearing on the bus, just the curled up ends of his brown hair peeking out the bottom. He's smiling again in this one.

The picture tugs at her heart in a physical way. Julie presses her lips together to try and stem the welling of tears in her eyes. She would do anything to see him like this - happy, without a care, doing what he loves. As remarkable as the version of him that she met was, it was only a shadow of who he once was - of who he could be.

Maybe it's a good thing Julie never met this version of him. She doesn't know if she could have ever let him go. She would have stayed on that bus forever.

"Can I...can I keep these?" Julie looks up at Emily and Mitch. She has no excuses prepared, no story that would make sense.

Luckily they don't ask. Emily nods and Julie tightens her fingers around them, feeling a surge of gratefulness. They will never know how much their son meant to her, how much he's done for her even though she only knew him for such a short time and in such a strange place.

Julie heads back out to the car not long after. Mitch and Emily invite her to stay for coffee, but she doesn't want Flynn to get worried.

Flynn perks up when Julie shuts the car door behind her.

"You were gone for a while. What happened?"

"I, uh, found something in my mom's stuff that belonged to their son. It's a long story."

Luckily Flynn seems to understand Julie's mood and doesn't push for more information. Julie reaches into her back and pulls out the Sunset Curve CD Luke had given her. She inserts it into the CD player and turns up the volume.

The music is actually really good. Even Flynn, who prefers rap and pop, is nodding along her head to the shredding guitars and driving percussion. Julie leans back and closes her eyes, focusing on Luke's voice. He's a really good singer.

"What is this?" Flynn asks between songs. "It's really good."

"It's an old band from the nineties. Trevor Wilson was in it before he became a solo artist."

"Really?" Flynn shoots her an incredulous look. "He's not the lead singer, is he?"

"No. That's Luke. Trevor was the rhythm guitarist."

"Just Luke?" Flynn raises an eyebrow. "You sound like you know him personally."

Julie shakes her head. "He died years ago. That's why Trevor became a solo artist. Everyone in the band except him died."

"Damn."

They drive in silence for the rest of the trip, listening to the Sunset Curve CD. The lyrics are just as good as the singing and the instrument playing. The boys were really talented. They would have all been famous if they hadn't died so young.

Thinking about the music and about Luke hardens up Julie's resolve. The connection that she felt with Luke still lives within her, glowing brightly as she listens to his music and warming her up from the inside. Flynn drops her off at her house and Julie heads straight for her piano, dropping her luggage inside the doorway without a care.

She had promised Luke that she would take the song to his parents, listen to his CD, and play music again. She's about to fulfil her last promise to him. Her debt will be finished.

Somehow she wants to stay here forever. When she plays, her end of the deal will be over. She'll have no reason to carry on the connection to him anymore. The part of her life with him in it will be over.

What a short, bittersweet part of her life it was.

But Julie promised she would play, and she intends to keep all her promises. She doesn't want to end up like a lost ghost, cursed to ride around on a bus for all eternity. She was fortunate enough to get a warning in advance. Most people don't get that.

She pulls the cover off her piano. There's a song on the bench for her. Her mother had written it for her shortly before her death. Julie wasn't strong enough to play it at the time. Now, as she looks over it, she knows there's no force in the universe strong enough to keep her from playing it.

Julie plays piano for over an hour. There's nothing more liberating than the feeling of the pearly keys underneath her fingertips, nothing more freeing than letting notes flow out of her throat, melodies and chords filling up space that has been empty for too long.

Julie is still sad when she's done, but it's not a crushing, heavy sadness. It's a sweet sadness, the kind that inspires beauty and fuels nostalgia.

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out the photos Luke's mom had given her. She sets them on her piano, next to a picture of her mother that she put there months ago. She may have lost them, but their spirit still lives within Julie when she plays music.

As long as she remembers them, they will continue to exist. And that is the truest magic of them all.