#phantomtwirl

You know how when you know something really, really bad is coming and you think that since you know it’s coming it won’t be as bad as it would have been if you hadn’t expected it at all, but then it turns out that thing was more of a bummer than you ever could have prepared yourself for, so it wouldn’t have mattered whether you were waiting for it your whole life or it had come out of nowhere? Reggie’s existence had been peppered with quite a few of those obviously inevitable yet unexpectedly devastating disappointments. Kinda like how he knew his folks would never show up to one of his gigs, or how he knew he was supposed to be staying away from the HGC.

Every night spent there, dancing with her under the lights and splendor -- was just him pretending to push back the deadline of never being able to see her again.

He felt his cheeks light up in that embarrassing, juvenile way that they did when he felt anything too strongly. He blinked away the sting of tears, and held her hands a little tighter as they stood in the threshold of where the Hollywood Ghost Club met the lifer-ridden outside world. “I know, Stella,” he said with a voice that was damped into a whisper by the sadness that overwhelmed him, and more surprisingly: a smile. “These are your people. This is your home.” He leaned in so their foreheads were almost touching, shook his head, “This is where your horse is,” and laughed as best he could.

@phantomtwirl​ asked :  ‘your tie is crooked.’ 

               “YOU CAN THANK your boss for that one,” he replied, his leg shaking with nerves as he watched the rest of the band set up. He’d already tried poofing away — as had the guys — and found that he couldn’t. He was trapped at the Hollywood Ghost Club, Julie would be getting ready for their set, and he couldn’t get to her. 

But deft hands reached over to straighten his tie, and he swallowed, following the arms to the shoulders and then the face of one of the Club’s dancers. 

“Thanks,” he finally said, giving a weak smile. After all, he had no idea whether she had gotten the same bad break as he and the guys had gotten; this situation deserved a soft hand, even if he wouldn’t see her again after this night. Whether by crossing over or dying for real... this was it for him. 

          “Dude.” Reggie mouthed at Luke from the small venue’s stage once they finished thanking the audience for a killer show. They were about two feet off the floor, just the right height for showgoers in the front row to bruise their knees if the crowd pushed forward enough. The space between the two boys was wide enough to just barely fit Alex and his drums with Bobby crammed almost-but-not-quite behind Luke, but even with the short distance, the music that the house played in between acts was too loud for Luke to hear Reg if he shouted. Fortunately, it only took the single-syllable silent exclamation and an instant of eye contact for Luke to know exactly what Reggie was freaking out about.

          With a smirk and a pointed thumb, Luke signaled for Reggie to scram. They both knew that Reggie would be making up for skipping out on striking the stage later, which most likely meant that Reggie’s tip money would be paying for dinner within the next night or two -- and that was fine by him. Getting off stage in time to catch up with the pretty blonde who he could have sworn had been smiling at him through half the show was well worth a quadruple order of double doubles.

          He pushed through the thinning mass of bodies, accumulating a layer of strangers’ sweat above his own, until he reached the watercooler at the end of the venue’s bar. By the time he emerged, his already ratty black tee had been nearly soaked through, and any clue that his hair had once been meticulously combed into place had vanished. And yet, as he leaned against the bar and formed the world’s goofiest grin, he ran his fingers back through the matted mess atop his head as if that action alone would be enough for him to come off as presentable.

          With the confidence of a boy who wasn’t thinking ahead more than three seconds into the future, Reggie forwent a proper greeting and began with an observation -- not a question -- that couldn’t have possibly been more saturated with certainty,

said: ❝ did you hear that? ❞ from stella to reggie 🥺

          He felt a chill between his fingers as Stella’s hand left his own. He looked at her. Her once pink cheeks now pale. The shine he’d gotten so used to seeing in her eyes now shrouded by something darker. Fear?

          His breath caught in his throat. Not quite grasping the severity of the situation, but still spiraling from the cold realization that their time together was coming to an end. “Was it him?” He asked, voice absent of his usual charm.

          “Stella . . .” He cast a look over either shoulder, then stepped closer as he lowered his voice. “You’re like, really not supposed to be here with me, are you?” Tone laced with epiphany. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.” He shook his head, not wanting to accept the risks Stella would have to take to see him again. Saying goodbye now could mean saying goodbye for . . . for who knows how long.

said: [ touch ] for reggie & stella :') // for your muse to rest their forehead against mine’s

          It seemed that no matter where or when they managed to meet up, they were always followed by their own spotlight. Whether that meant the stars in the sky, the bulbs at the club, the beams of a studio or stage, or the streetlamps of a quiet road on the outskirts of Hollywood like it was that night. It was fitting, Reggie thought; Stella was a reflection of everything bright in the world. Of everything exciting, and elegant, and enchanting.

          As they passed through the luminous cone of one streetlamp, Reggie led Stella along by her hand into the next. He stopped once they were in its center, and pulled her close for no other reason than to be near her. He looked up toward the light, then looked down to see it reflected in her eyes. He laughed, because there was nothing else to do with his excess joy, and he leaned in to place a kiss in her hair.

said: ‘ you don’t know what you got till it’s gone. ’

          “Ya know ---” Alex brought his hands up in front of him, like he was detangling his frustration that was manifesting in the open air, “I always hated that saying. Because -- like, I know I had it pretty good. Things weren’t perfect -- but I had my band, my music, my life ---- Sometimes it was pretty easy to get down on myself, and, like, yeah, there were times when I could’ve shown more appreciation or whatever, but at the end of the day? I wouldn’t have traded it for anything. Just because I complained sometimes didn’t mean I didn’t know what I got. I knew what I got! And now it’s gone, and ---” Alex stopped his rambling and looked back at Stella with an apology in his eyes. 

said: ‘ loneliness has always been a friend of mine. ’

          A night on the beach. Private, save for the distant laughter of rebellious teens out past curfew and the one other couple who thought taking a moonlit stroll on the shore was as romantic as Reggie had when he asked Stella to come along. Not that privacy was a concern. Death had provided them each with a veil impenetrable by most of the living. But sometimes it was nice to pretend. To act like having a moment away from the rest of the world was something rare and special, and not something they had to constantly endure.

          He smiled at the way that even though they were only walking, Stella still carried herself with the grace of a dancer. Something about the way her feet seemed to skate across the sand while his just seemed to plod along made him want to laugh. But he kept silent. Until a conversation rose from the comfortable quiet, then sunk into something darker.

          Reggie didn’t reply right away, but instead turned his head to look at her until she felt the weight of his gaze. He kept the two of them moving forward and pulled her closer by her hand. When her side was flush against his, he dipped his arm around her waist. “No offense, lady.” He smiled at her with expectant eyes. “But it sounds to me like you need some better friends.” He leaned in impossibly closer and planted a kiss on her cheek.

  ❛   what’s the point of doing anything else  ?       you’re here  ,   aren’t  you  ?   ❜         april  likes  to  think  of  herself  as  the  sharpest  tool  in  the  shed.      she  knows  what  kind  of  business  they’re  running  here  at  the  hollywood  ghost  club  and  has  proven  she  knows  how  to  get  ahead.      finding  her  in  a  place  other  than  at  caleb’s  right  side  is  like  spotting  a  four  leaf  clover,    and  it  doesn’t  take  long  for  her,    during  dawdling  conversations  like  this,    to  miss  her  little  pedestal.       more  often  than  not,    talking  to  her  hapless  coworkers  is  like  taking  on  charity  case  after  charity  case.     

    stella  has  the  potential  to  be  great.       MANY  ALREADY  PERCEIVE  HER  AS  SUCH,     but  april’s  thought  process  isn’t  so  narrow,   and  extends  far  past  the  superficiality  of  dancing  on  tables  and  twinkling  under  lights.       that’s  child’s  play  !       you  wouldn’t  even  be  considered  by  the  boss  man  if  you  couldn’t  do  the  basics,    and  she  knows  that  mr.  caleb  deserves  better  than  the  bare  minimum.       why,   with  her  goldilocks  and  baby  blues,   stella  could  flirt  away  the  equivalent  of  a  siren  song  and  lead  dimwitted  lifer  after  lifer  to  their  new  eternity  in  covington’s  hands.      but  it’s  not  april,    a  true  seductress’  job  to  make  her  realize  this.       she’s  said  way  too  much  already,    what  with  the  little  starlet  aware  of  her  demise  and  all.      there’s  gotta  be  some   ANGER   somewhere  beyond  those  pearly  whites,   constantly  flashing  in  a  sickeningly  sweet  smile.      if  april  could  throw  up,   she  would.