🌑 ― a fading memory.

June, 1973

The Georgia skyline flew by him, hot summer air and the familiar scent of peaches fading into the background as Jamison tucked himself into the back seat of the car, watching the long stretches of highway whip past the window as his older siblings fought over what cassette they’d play next. Their mother was at the wheel, ever patient with her children as she helped them work out a system – they’d pick heads or tails and flip a coin, whoever won getting first pick on what to play on the radio, then switching off every time the tape was over. 

blue laughs again. “hot chocolate and soup are amazing, i’ll never fight you on that. don’t worry, no criticism coming your way.” they grin. while they’ve never been one to be largely into the holidays that take place in the winter time, winter itself is a pretty amazing thing. blue loves the glistening of the white snow outside, they love pulling their coziest blanket out of storage to wrap themself up in, and they love the additional methods of keeping themself warm, such as drinking one too many cups of hot chocolate or eating one too many bowls of homemade soup. “i really like winter, just not christmas.” they further explain, though only briefly. 

“i’m not religious either, none of my family is. i’ve celebrated different holidays of different - or at times no - faith, but christmas is the big one they push every year so my tolerance for it is a lot lower. especially because it makes me wonder why it’s christmas above all else.” but that was a conversation they probably shouldn’t be getting in to if they want to keep the conversation light. “i like celebrating when the time comes, if it’s something my friends or neighbors - or whoever - are doing, but i can’t keep up the excitement for long enough to have a countdown, i’m not into the decorations going up the second that halloween is over.” they shrug, thinking it’s probably all they have left to say on the subject. “suppose it makes sense, though,” they then think aloud, “why they’d be pushing christmas and in a hurry to forget halloween, considering all that happened.”

“It… really sucks about everything that’s happened,” he said, shifting in his seat. “Halloween used to be one of my favorite times of the year – or fall in general, I guess – but with everything that’s gone down these past few years…” He shrugged, not sure how to articulate what he wanted to get across without it coming out sounding overwhelmingly selfish. It was no secret how much Jamison loved autumn and the spooky, kitschy Halloween culture that surrounded it. Black cats and apple cider and horror movies with goofy practical effects were to him what pastel flowers in springtime and easter bunnies and convoluted rom-coms were to the uptight suburban Christian ladies that lived on the nicer side of town, and now he couldn’t love any of that in the same way that he used to because that season was connected to so many horrible things.

despite noticing there was bound to be someone there, ty still startled a little at seeing his friend leaning casually as though he had been there all along. in the same breath, their smile turned a little more casual, a little less forced should it have been a random customer. “please, no! i’ve done nothing wrong, sir, i swear!” ty pleaded in a playfully lilted voice, then felt the need to give a little shake of the head for his awkward performance. it was within his repertoire to joke but it never seemed to come across as charming as others.

now, his hand brought back the sleeve of pieces before he could deposit it entirely, juggling it a bit to settle it all back inside before he cleared his throat. “it’s no big deal, in all seriousness. a while back, when i still had the chance to ask permission, i wanted to start taking home some of the broken records to use in my art! it was better than just throwing them out, and i could see them coming together in my mind’s eye. back at my place, i have a small collection going, and i rearrange the pieces when i get new ones to create a bigger picture. one day, i’ll get an image i like and then maybe i can think about sealing it into a final form. sounds like a lot of pressure, though.” looking to the shaggy hair and jovial presence of jamie, “what’s up? did you need help looking for anything, or were you going to save me from accidentally working through the end of my shift again?”

He stifled his snort of laughter behind his hand, fondly shaking his head at his friend as Ty continued explaining what he was up to. He settled in to listen properly, knowing he’d just crack up again if either of them tried to keep up the bit they had going. His eyes lit up a little when the other mentioned their art project; anything creative like that always sparked an interest in Jamison, though he couldn’t help the pang of hurt in his chest when the other mentioned the owner of Tracks, who had up and disappeared after yet another round of attacks. Jamison had been coming to the store for years and was decently familiar with the man; he could only hope that one day he’d be found safe again. 

He shook his head a little to stop himself from thinking about anything negative, his curly hair ruffling around his face, and reached a hand out to help pick up some of the still-scattered pieces of broken vinyl. As he slipped the pieces into Ty’s bag along with the others, he told them, “I like that. Like, abstract art shit – it’s real fun, always has a lot of personality to it, you know? Whenever you finish it, I’d love to get to see it, if you’re up to showin’ people. Could probably dig up a few broken records of my own, too, if you need any more of ‘em.” 

December 2nd, 1982 - Denver, Colorado.

Hearing the scream of K.K. Downing’s guitar as it sparked to life, fingers flying across the frets in complement to Halford’s unique voice, Jamison felt the closest thing to a religious experience that he ever had in his entire life, pressed up against the grate in front of the stage, metal against his palms and a rowdy crowd pushing and shoving at his back. He was enraptured by the power, the leather, the music that ignited his fucking soul in a way that nothing else could ever hope to. 

With his fist raised to the sky, two fingers raised in the ward of the evil eye, just as Dio had taught them all, he gave all his energy to the pit, sweaty, denim-clad bodies shoving against each other. As the set rolled on, he never lost the grin on his face. 

A particularly hard shove from a man much larger than he was – not to mention more drunk than anyone should’ve been – sent him flying against the grate, his ribs slamming particularly hard against it, knocking the wind out of him momentarily. All he saw was a flash of strawberry-blonde as someone went headfirst over the damn thing, and then all of a sudden, that messy head of hair popped back up, an arm around Jamison’s waist to keep him upright, and a pin being held out to him – one that he noticed must have fallen off his vest when he got shoved. 

He must have been looking pretty rough at that point because his savior kept his arm around Jamison’s waist a few songs longer than strictly necessary. If Jamison’s breath caught in his throat when he finally looked up at the other boy, face flushed from more than energetic dancing, his new friend – a sharp featured boy, not much older than him, with bright eyes and the kind of long, scruffy hair that Jamison had always wanted – was kind enough not to mention it. 

Between songs, the boy introduced himself, and by the time the final song rolled around, the roar of Rob Halford’s sleek, black Harley-Davidson signaling the start of Hell Bent For Leather, the two were fast friends. The blonde had told Jamison he played guitar and Jamison, dreamy-eyed as he could be, told him his band was looking for a guitarist. With a phone number hastily scribbled on the back of a napkin and tucked into the pocket of Jamison’s vest and a quick kiss pressed to the side of his mouth in a darkened corner of the now-emptying concert venue, that was that. 

Jae shook his head in confirmation. Was it weird he’d never gone to a concert at his age? He had never thought about it like that. Despite his love for music, he hadn’t ever wanted to go to a concert or music festival by himself. Most of his ‘friends’ - who were really just children of his parents’ acquaintances - were very different from him and had completely different interests. Said interests were more of the materialistic kind and less of the artistic one. “I’d like if I could sit down. I, uh, I have like, low blood sugar.” Not a complete lie - it was definitely part of the problem.

“You can teach me?” His eyes widened, the enthusiasm clearly visible on his face. “We used to have a piano at home, but I wasn’t allowed to touch it. I think my parents were worried I would break it, ‘cause I’m kind of clumsy sometimes. And I did once fall into the fish tank, ‘cause I wanted to feed them and I lost my balance…” He trailed off, realizing right then that he didn’t exactly want to remember the incident, nor talk about it to a stranger. Maybe it was the reason fish made him uncomfortable and he had never learned to swim.

The boy cleared his throat and averted his eyes for a moment as he pushed his smile back onto his face. “I’d really like to learn, though. If it’s not a bother. You’re probably super busy all the time. Lunch is usually the busiest time here, but later in the day it gets kinda quiet. I could come by on my days off.” The compliment about his work was definitely nice to hear; it was maybe the only thing he frequently received compliments about from customers, but it made his entire day every single time.

Jae took the money, as well as the receipt with the number on it, the latter accompanied by a slight blush on his pale cheeks. He still needed to get used to getting people’s numbers after just meeting them, but he really appreciated that the other male hadn’t just purchased his food and left. “Thank you, um-” He paused to look down at the receipt. “Jamison? My name is Eun Jae, by the way.” He smiled shyly. “You know, for if I do call.”

Eun Jae wanted to argue that not everything could be made better by having snacks, but he kept his mouth shut. Just because his own relationship with food was bad, didn’t mean that it couldn’t make other people happy. He was well aware that most people actually felt better after a snack, it was actually one of the main reasons he enjoyed baking and working at the bakery. He liked seeing the smiles on people’s faces after they bought a cake or a box of donuts. 

“I’ve never really gone to a concert before.” He admitted. “I like having the radio on at home when I do my homework, but I don’t think I could stand up for long enough to go see a concert.” He was very curious what it would be like to go to one, but he was aware that his energy levels were too low to risk it. “Being in a band sounds cool, though. I like to sing and I’ve always wanted to learn how to play the piano, but I’ve always been too busy with other stuff. I’d really like to see your band perform, though. If you ever wanna play here.” He gave a small encouraging smile as he placed all the items into a bag. “I’ve never sang for someone else, so there is no evidence of that.” He added with a small chuckle.

The boy could definitely relate to feeling sleepy while getting his hair done, though the dye jobs usually left him with a sore neck as well. “I’d probably fall asleep if the bleach smell didn’t keep me awake.” He said with a small shake of his head. He really hated the scent of it, but it was a necessary evil, he supposed. “Oh, um, that’s 55 cents, please.”

“Never gone to a concert?” He tilted his head a little, like the concept was alien to him – though, he supposed he lived in a place with easy access to a lot of different music venues, some more accessible than others. “Well, damn, if I see any good ones coming through somewhere, I’ll have to come by and tell you about ‘em – I know there’s some venues that have sitting areas, too, so you could, like, chill in a comfy chair and still have a good time.” It might not be Eun Jae’s idea of a good time, but he couldn’t help but offer. 

He perked up a little when the other mentioned wanting to learn to play the piano; it was something he was familiar with, at least a tiny bit. “If you’re ever around Key of Reason, I’d be happy to teach you a little about the piano,” Jamison offered. “I don’t know much myself, but I could show you some basic stuff – you look like you’d be able to pick it up easy enough, I mean, just judging by how detail-oriented it seems you are with all the neat lil’ pastries you make.”

He rifled around inside his vest pocket for his wallet, drawing it out to hand the sum over to the other, wishing he was able to hang around and talk more, but not wanting to hold up the line – or stop Eun Jae from actually working. “Thank you – and, sure, if we ever do a show, I’d be happy to tell ya.” He paused a moment, shifting on his feet, as he debated whether or not it’d be weird to give the other his number, but eventually gave in. Eun Jae seemed pretty cool, anyway. Taking the receipt from the other, he fished a pen out of his pocket and scribbled down his name, number, and the store where he worked on the back of it, then slid it back across the counter, giving him a bright smile. “If you do end up wanting to learn piano – or just hang out sometime, y’know where to find me.”

               he listens with complete focus and interest; thomas isn’t going to steal the other’s idea - he would never, he respects himself far too much to be that uncreative - but he’s desperate for something - anything - that might turn itself into muse for an idea of his own. for someone who isn’t an author, thomas believes jamison has a really sturdy idea. “yeah, i actually really like that.” they tell the other, nodding their head slowly as musings swirl around in his mind. “i’ve never really written anything in that kind of fantasy genre. figured no one should even try after tolkien gave the rest of the fantasy authors a run for their money.” he chuckles. “i agree that we could all do with a cozy type of story though, for sure.”

Jamison absolutely beams at the compliment, a bright smile on his face as the other contemplated the idea. At the mention of Tolkien, though, he couldn’t help but to chuckle a little – he definitely understood being intimidated by the man’s creativity; Tolkien was an author that had seen a lot in life and had a brilliant way of weaving it into his stories. Still, he wasn’t the only fantasy writer out there who had done something unique with the genre. Jamison flipped through the stack of books in his hands, sliding one of them across the counter toward Thomas. It was a recent favorite, and he was glad he’d been able to find a copy of it around the store. “Oh, believe me, I definitely understand – but Tolkien isn’t the only one that can do the fantasy genre justice, trust me on that,” he told them, giving an almost affectionate tap to the hardcover book between them, its dust jacket decorated with an image of a red-cloaked witch standing before a towering castle, blue-green flames licking up the stony walls to form a menacing face. “I mean, this one might look a little more… on the spooky side, but it isn’t, really. I think you might like it, if you want to dip into fantasy stuff a bit more.”

Eun Jae smiled brightly at the compliment, his eyes turning into tiny crescents. “Thank you! I’m so glad you like them!” There was very little that brought him more joy than to see people enjoying his food. Only puppies, perhaps. And baby bunnies. Or any other kind of small animal, to be fair. “I think lemon tea would work, yeah! The name is kinda funny, ‘cause it means something like… ah… medicinal confection? ‘Cause in the past, people believed honey was like a medicine. I guess it kinda is, like when you have a sore throat, right? But it’s really just a honey cookie.” He rambled away. “I think honey and lemon tea is good when you don’t feel well.”

>“Oh, concerts?” He mused, whilst packing the two muffins into a box that fit them. “You mean like when you go to them or do you, like… sing?” Was that stupid to assume? Why would he need to be singing? “Oh, I mean… Or do you, like, play an instrument or something? I can’t do either, but I sometimes sing in the shower.” His cheeks heated up at the admittance of that. Why did he feel the need to share that information? At the question about his own hair, he smiled and pulled his shoulders up in a weak shrug. “I only just got it dyed so I don’t know yet. It’s okay if I have to redo it soon, I kinda like getting my hair done. It’s relaxing.”

“I mean, I think eating this would solve most of my problems, so the name makes sense to me!” He joked with the other, giving him a small half-grin. “I mean, really, what can’t be made better by having some good snacks, right? But, true about the honey, too – It definitely helps a lot when you’re feelin’ gross.” He couldn’t help but chuckle a bit when the conversation diverged back to music and concerts, with his new acquaintance admitting – perhaps to his embarrassment – that he sang in the shower. It was pretty adorable, if Jamison was honest, especially with the way that Eun Jae’s blushing cheeks were well on their way to matching his hair color. With a little nod, he answered, “A bit of everything, really! I love going to concerts, and I play in a band – real small one, and we don’t really play much around Shrike, even though Hedwig’s been trying to encourage us to do it more. But, I play bass mostly and do a little bit of singin’. I think I also do my best singing in the shower, though. And I’m sure your voice isn’t bad.”