After several hours in the practice room with Luke and Julie trying dozens of slight variations to get "Stand Tall" to match with what they had their heads, Reggie and Alex had gotten fed up and headed out with Willie to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Unfortunately, this left Luke and Julie unattended to indulge in their search for perfection, and they'd rapidly run through all the normal language they had to describe what they were aiming for.

"It just needs a slightly different flavor, you know?" Luke paced in front of the piano, as if he could physically catch up with the fix for the song if he could just walk fast enough. "Like, right now it's a bit too salty and I want it to be more umami. Do you know what I mean?"

She leaned back on the piano bench. "I know what you're getting at, but no, that doesn't help at all." She traced her fingers over the keys. "The showcase is pretty important to you, isn't it?"

"Managers are going to be there. People have gotten signed out of this." People meant Bobby, but still. "This song needs to be perfect. Oh!" He snapped loudly as it came to him, startling her. "You know Jukebox the Ghost?"

"Yeah, not exactly our sound though?"

"Not 'Hold It In'—"

"—great song though."

"Killer song."

She rolled her eyes fondly. "I'm not convinced you know any adjectives other than 'killer.'"

He stuck his tongue out at her (when, oh, when was he going to learn a new reaction to her?). "I was thinking more 'Fred Astaire.' Not as a direct reference, but that blend of salt and umami."

She tilted her head, trying to retrieve the memory of the song. "Which one is that?"

"Those eyes, damn those eyes, get me every time." His eyes locked on hers while he sang and leaned on the piano towards her. He'd worried after what had happened at Eats & Beats that they wouldn't get any more moments like this, but the shy smile spreading over her face said otherwise. "Those eyes, in those eyes, I can do no crime / When I dance like I don't care / you call me Fred Astaire."

She shook her head, but didn't break their eye contact. "I definitely don't call you Fred Astaire. Your dancing is—"

"Legendary. See, I know other adjectives."

"False adjectives."

He grabbed her hand, pulled her to her feet and twirled her around, singing the second verse. "All my idiosyncrasies / You like 'em." She shot him a dubious look. "Annoyed at all the little things I know / I can be frustrating."

"Finally, an accurate lyric."

He spun her in close to him, her face inches from him. In response to her proximity, his voice dropped lowered. "But you still like me when I'm dancing."

She met his gaze. "Prove it." But the sass she intended was missing, and it felt more like a challenge than a disagreement. He was about to lean in when-

-the door banged open. They jumped apart to see Flynn standing in the doorway. She shot him a deeply unimpressed look before turning her attention to Julie.

"I'm on an urgent fro yo mission. You need to stop me from getting gummy bear toppings. I always get gummy bears, it's always a mistake, gummy bears don't belong on fro yo, so help me, Julie-Wan Kenobi, you're my only hope."

Julie hopped away from Luke with an awkward smile. "Okay, but I'm still getting gummy bears."

As Julie packed up her bag, Luke tried to pull a smile out of Flynn. "How was your lesson today? You kill it?"

"Obviously." She flipped her hair with a mock confident grin. But there was something missing from her grin, a warmth that immediately returned when she looked at Julie. "Ready?"

"Yep." Before Julie reached the door, she spun back around to Luke. "Oh, before I forget. My dad thought we should do a garage party this weekend? Play something, he'll get his cinematographer friends to shoot it, and we can put it on YouTube?"

"Oh, that'd be kil—rad." She shook her head at his correction, not buying it. "What do you wanna perform? 'Great'?"

"Yeah, I think 'Great' is a… great choice."

Before Luke could get lost in smiling at her, Flynn grabbed her friend's arm and pulled her out of the practice room. "Come on, Mama needs her fro yo."

"Does Flynn hate me?" Luke asked the second he walked into his dorm room.

Alex, Willie, and Reggie were in a cuddle pile on Alex's bed, watching Buffy on Alex's laptop. Reggie held up five fingers. "Could you maybe come back in five minutes after this scene—"

Alex smacked him on the arm and closed the laptop. Luke's heart dropped. "I was hoping it was just a 'yes or no' question and that the answer was 'no.'"

"She doesn't hate you as a person. I think she just has… concerns about you and Julie."

"You think?"

"Confidentiality, remember?"

Luke turned to Willie. "You're not bound by confidentiality."

Smiling apologetically, Willie cuddled under his boyfriend's arm. "But I am bound by the boyfriend code of pretending that Alex doesn't tell me everything."

"Come on!" Luke groaned.

The three boys mimed zipping their lips and throwing away the keys, and then crossed their arms. It was far too synchronized.

"... did you practice that?"

Reggie shrugged unapologetically. "We have to do something during Riley's scenes. We aren't going to watch them like a bunch of chumps."

Plopping down on his bed, Luke laughed joylessly. "Can you at least tell me what problems you would have with me and Julie?" The boys glanced at one another again. "Wait, do you have problems with us?"

Reggie held up his hands. "Don't look at me. I'm Team Jukebox all the way."

"Alex?"

Alex set aside the laptop, stalling for time as he collected his thoughts. "'Problems' is a strong word. I said 'concerns.'"

"Is it what happened at Eats & Beats?"

Alex shook his head, but Reggie shrugged. "Probably didn't help."

"But," Alex cut in, "It's more that what happened at Eats & Beats emphasized how much the timing sucks. She's grieving, the band is a big emotional lifeline for her right now, and if something goes wrong, then either being in the band becomes really uncomfortable for her or she leaves it. Either way, it stops being an emotional safe space for her."

"Plus," Willie added, "the long distance."

Alex whipped his head around, Luke temporarily forgotten. "You think long distance relationships are bad?"

"Not ours, babe, it's so worth it, but you know the distance sucks. And if you have any problems in your relationship, the distance, like, amplifies it like a… well, an amplifier."

Alex gestured at Willie as if presenting him to the group. "Gentlemen, my boyfriend: a scholar." Willie nudged him, mock outraged. "A scholar who makes a good point."

Luke was grateful for at least one thing that was easy to argue with. "Okay, but Julie and I wouldn't be long distance. We both live in LA!"

"Luke." Alex managed to make his name sound like "oh, honey." "She lives on the east side, you're on the Westside. Everyone knows an east-west relationship in LA is long distance. And you're not just on the Westside, you're in Mar Vista. To visit her, you have to take the 10 to the 101."

Reluctantly, Luke admitted, "Actually, depending on traffic, it's the 405 to the 101." Reggie winced, like a world class traitor. "Dude, you're supposed to be on my side!"

"I still ship it! It's just… the 405 to the 101. I couldn't do it."

Luke groaned loudly and leaned back against the wall behind his bed. Alex got up to give him a side hug. "I'm not saying don't do it. But I don't think Flynn's wrong to be concerned, you know? If you're going to do it, you need to be sure and you need to be careful. It's a normal pre-relationship thing to think about. If there are potential problems, make sure you've either addressed them or have a plan for how you're going to deal with them. Now, come watch Buffy with us and take your mind off it."

"Can we watch the prom episode?" Luke asked miserably.

"Luke, the prom episode is reserved for emotional DEFCON 1 situations. This isn't that. All I'm saying is, if you're going to date Julie, go in with open eyes. And maybe some Uber credit. Okay?"

Luke nodded, but as he joined the cuddle pile, the churning worries in his stomach made him think he might be watching the prom episode sooner rather than later.

"Holy shit, there are chairs on the ceiling!" Reggie spun around in the middle of the studio, staring up with his mouth open.

"Couch!" Luke flung himself down on said couch.

Julie chuckled from her spot in the doorway. Alex propped his elbow on her shoulder and shook his head. "I'm sorry about these heathens. They've never been in public before."

"There's a loft with a bean bag chair."

"Okay, byeee," Alex dashed up the stairs.

Reggie stared at Julie. "You live, like, ten minutes from LFCM. Why do we spend all our time hogging the smelly practice room when this place exists? Come to think of it, why are you even in the dorms?"

"Wanted the full summer college experience." From the way she picked at a loose thread on her sweater and refused to look around the room, Luke knew that wasn't the full answer, but Reggie was too enamored with the ceiling to notice.

"All you need is a mini-fridge and this place would be perfect."

"Well, there's a fridge-fridge, like one hundred feet away." She pointed in the direction of the main house. Reggie's head whipped around.

"Did you get the hot dogs?"

"I did. I don't know that they're 'authentic street dogs' as requested, but I think they should qualify for your pre-gig ritual. They're also probably less likely to kill you."

From his spot on the couch, Luke noticed that there was a thin layer of dust on the piano. He frowned, only partially listening as Reggie roped Alex into making hot dogs.

"Luke! Hot dogs!"

He tore his gaze away from the dust. "Yeah, in a minute. You guys start cooking?"

As their footsteps faded away, he sat up and caught Julie's eyes.

"Your mom's studio?"

She nodded, unable to speak for a moment. "She, um, taught me to play piano right there. The loft was my 'private creative space,' and we co-wrote most of our songs on that couch."

He stood up, feeling as if he'd been sitting on her ghosts. "Is this your first time back in here?"

"I came to get my keyboard once, but, yeah. I play in my room pretty exclusively now." She finally lifted her eyes to look around the room. "Today will be good though. I need to get better at being in here. Once LFCM's over, this will probably be our best practice space, right?"

"If it's okay with you. None of our parents are really rushing to build us private studios." He tried to keep his voice light, shielding the bitterness.

She nodded, trying to convince herself. "It'll be good to get back in here with other people. And I think my mom would like it, me rehearsing in here with you guys." He was torn between feeling happy at what she said and pained by the reminder of Alex's comment about the band as her emotional lifeline. "Though I guess it'll be a bit of a trek for you? Mar Vista, right?" He'd never told her where in LA he lived, so the fact that she'd found out from someone else and remembered drew a smile from him. "That's, what, the 10 to the 101?"

His smile turned bitter. "Or the 405."

"That's brutal. I have Uber credit if you ever need it."

The significance of what she'd said was lost on her, but he couldn't help grinning. He also couldn't help noticing that she was keeping herself decidedly apart from him, staying in the doorway of the studio with her sweater wrapped around her. He felt the distance as a palpable chill between them, and he desperately wanted to close the gap.

"Why are you in the dorms?"

She hugged herself. "My dad thought I might benefit from being in a new space. Get a break from home, immerse myself in music and the program. He wasn't wrong." Her voice trailed off as she took in the studio and inhaled shakily. "What about you?"

"You know what they say about LA—west to east is long distance." He glanced at her, trying to judge her thoughts on the matter. But when she didn't react, he continued. "My parents… they thought maybe we should be long distance for a bit."

Her face fell. "I'm so sorry."

He leaned against the piano, projecting a casualness he didn't feel. If he opened up about his parents now, he wasn't going to be able to bring the triumphant energy to 'Great' that he needed to. "I'm lucky, really. Some people spend decades searching for their found families. I met mine in kindergarden. Couldn't ask for a better family than the guys."

"I love that. The band as your family."

He winced internally at the idea of Julie as family. "Not the band, just Alex and Reggie. Bobby was never really part of that."

"And me?"

"You're… Julie."

"And what's a Julie?"

Oh, so many possible answers. But she was still in the doorway, not really looking at him, and Flynn's potential concerns were rattling around in his brain. So he avoided the cheesy answer he wanted to give.

"A Julie is… a wrecking ball who lives in a category of human entirely to herself. Untouchable by mere mortals." He pushed off the piano, ignoring her confusion. "We should go eat before we have to set up."

Luke made the mistake of biting into yet another hot dog just as Julie descended down the stairs in her concert outfit. He inhaled at the sight of her… which meant he inhaled the hot dog as well. Reggie had to whale on his back to dislodge the large chunk of food from his throat.

Flynn followed her with a triumphant grin. "Yes, thank you, I am an artist." She hugged Julie. "With an incredible canvas." Julie grinned, exuding a soft girlish joy and shy comfort that she only ever seemed to unleash around Flynn.

"Can someone help me move the piano?" Julie asked.

Luke moved forward to help, but got struck by another coughing fit, his throat still not feeling quite normal. Julie pointed at him. "Not you. Drink a whole glass of water and don't die before we perform. It's bad luck."

"Bad luck for who?" he rasped.

"You, obviously." She flashed him a grin. As Julie, Alex, and Reggie headed towards the back door, Flynn stopped her temporarily with a hand on Julie's arm.

"Just think about what we talked about, okay?" Flynn murmured quietly, glancing briefly at Luke. Julie nodded tensely, then quickly headed toward the garage without another look at him.

Luke filled up a glass of water, very aware of the silence in the kitchen between him and Flynn. "I'm not going to hurt her again."

He turned to look at her. Flynn crossed her arms and leaned against the kitchen wall.

"You will." He opened his mouth to argue, but she shook her head. "That's not personal. Everyone in every kind of relationship hurts each other sometimes."

"But that's normal stuff. You seem to think there's something more."

Flynn eyed him, then nodded. "You're teenagers, so odds are pretty high you'll break each other's hearts. And I think you're the kind of guy whose head is so all up in his music that you'll act perfectly normal and unaffected by everything. She'll be a mess, and you'll be trying to share a mic and sing romantic lyrics at her. Because that makes for a good performance, and at the end of the day, Julie is in your band and the band part is more important than the Julie part."

"I don't—" The overwhelming wrongness of what she said tangled his mind, like there were so many arguments trying to rush out of his mouth at the same time that they tripped over themselves and blocked the exit. He'd been expecting to hear a version of what Alex had said, and the new concerns gave him whiplash.

"Isn't that why you punched Bobby? Because you cared more about a song than you did about her as a human being?"

"That's not fair."

Flynn shrugged. "Maybe not. I don't really know you that well. I just don't want her getting her heart broken on top of everything else."

"Neither do I."

"I hope so." She pushed off the wall and reached for the back door, then paused. "I think some of the midterm feedback about her not looking at the crowd may have gotten to her, and she might try something. Keep an eye on her out there, will you?"

"Of course."

As Julie came out to the applause of her group of friends, Luke felt the rush of the crowd. Something about this gig felt like their first real one—not awkwardly playing on an auditorium stage that wasn't meant for a rock concert, but the kind of backyard gig he and the guys had played when they first started out. "Finally Free" had been great, but this… this felt like the real beginning.

Julie sat at the piano, and with a deep breath, began to play and sing:

Running from the past
Tripping on the now
What is lost can be found, it's obvious
And like a rubber ball
We come bouncing back
We all got a second act, inside of us

As the rest of the band joined in, Julie jumped up and immediately began to dance and sing with Reggie.

I believe
I believe that we're just one dream
Away from who we're meant to be
That we're standing on the edge of

She turned around to face Alex, sharing a grin with him.

Something big, something crazy
Our best days are yet unknown

Then she spun past Luke. He had stepped out toward her, excited to sing with her, but she turned fully to the crowd, her eyes shut. What? They'd rehearsed her singing with him.

That this moment is ours to own
'Cause we're standing on the edge of great

She glanced in his direction and he gestured his head for her to join him, a reminder. But she spun her head back to the crowd, a clear dismissal. Before he could try to figure out why she'd done it, he realized that her eyes were open and gazing into the main light.

(On the edge of great) Great
(On the edge of great) Great
(On the edge of great)

For the first half of the chorus, she seemed fine, continuing to sing. But her dancing was getting less vibrant and her voice weaker—maybe not in a way that was perceptible to the audience, but definitely in a way that was perceptible to him who had heard her perform this song dozens of times by now.

'Cause we're standing on the edge of great

She stopped, staring at the audience with her chest rising and falling. She was supposed to sing the next verse as well, but she looked like she was about to run off the makeshift stage. He stepped out toward her, nudging her gently on the arm, and began singing into her mic.

We all make mistakes
But they're just stepping stones

She finally made eye contact with him, her eyes wide. He put a smile into his voice, trying to communicate a hug without taking his hands off his guitar.

To take us where we wanna go
It's never straight, no

He tilted his head, inviting her to join in. She nervously paired her voice with his, the suitability of the lyrics not lost on either of them.

Sometimes we gotta lean
Lean on someone else
To get a little help
Until we find our way

Her smile seemed to be returning and she got back into dancing, making her way around the piano toward the crowd. He suspected that their heads were blocking the worst of the light.

I believe
I believe that we're just one dream
Away from who we're meant to be
That we're standing on the edge of
Something big, something crazy
Our best days are yet unknown
That this moment is ours to own

She reached out to Flynn in the crowd, who grabbed her hand briefly and gave her an encouraging "yesss!"

'Cause we're standing on the edge of great
(On the edge of great) Great
(On the edge of great) Great
(On the edge of great)
'Cause we're standing on the edge of...

Julie sat on the piano, swaying back and forth. It had been a great bit of choreography-it gave her something to do that was visually interesting to the audience, but she was swaying so much that it wasn't really obvious that she wasn't looking at them.

Shout, shout
C'mon and let it out, out
Don't gotta hide it
Let your colors blind their eyes
Be who you are no compromise
Just shout, shout
C'mon and let it out, out
What doesn't kill you makes you feel alive
Ooh-oh

Looking out at the light again, she hesitated for a split second. He quickly came out from behind his mic to join his guitar solo to her vocal solo.

I believe
I believe that we're just one dream

She met his gaze and smiled, this heartbreakingly beautiful smile that he hadn't ever seen her give on stage before. He grinned back and she dipped her head towards his for a moment.

Away from who we're meant to be
That we're standing on the edge of

Her voice, and this whole performance, had a quality of beauty and togetherness that they hadn't quite nailed before, but in that moment, he realized that the truly incandescent happiness he was currently feeling had nothing to do with the music they were making and everything to do with the joy on her face.

great

He headed back to his microphone for the final chorus, and she popped down off the piano to sit on the bench.

Something big, something crazy
Our best days are yet unknown
That this moment is ours to own
'Cause we're standing on the edge of great

(On the edge of great) On the edge of great
(Great, on the edge of great) On the edge
(Great, on the edge of great)
'Cause we're standing on the edge of...

The original plan was for them to finish the song together by looking at each other from afar—her at her piano, him at his mic. But she patted the seat next to her and he was only too happy to slip in. The small size of the bench forced them to sit right next to each other, their faces close, singing in quieter voices than they had for the rest of the song, as if having a private conversation.

Running from the past
Tripping on the now
What is lost can be found, it's obvious

The crowd cheered loudly, but she didn't pull away immediately. Instead, she clicked off her mic without breaking eye contact and put her hand over his. "Thank you."

"Are you good?"

"Yeah. I actually am. But see," she squeezed his hand. "Not so untouchable."

"Definitely a wrecking ball though."

"So are you."

Before he got tempted to do something silly, like kiss her for the first time in front of a crowd, they were suddenly engulfed in hugs from Alex, Reggie, and Flynn. Behind Julie's back, Flynn gave him a reluctant thumbs up.

They finally felt ready for the final showcase.

Songs/musical references in this chapter:
• Jukebox the Ghost's "Hold It In"; "Fred Astaire" (I tried so hard to fit JtG in this fic because Jukebox fics should have Jukebox the Ghost in them; sorry, I don't make the rules.)
• "Edge of Great"