#save jatp

“Nothing,” You pouted in your puddle of blankets, “Just feel sick.” You could feel Luke’s pity without him saying anything and weren’t sure whether to be indignant or grateful.

“Can you stay awake for twenty more minutes, love?”

“I guess so, why?” You asked, turning the TV back on as something to keep you from sleeping.

“I love you,” Was all he said, hanging up on you abruptly. You smiled softly to yourself, willing your eyes to stay open as you tried to focus on the sitcom in front of you.

You were just dozing off when you heard your apartment door unlocking and the brief shuffling of feet in the entryway. Your grin brightened, the familiar butterflies returning to your chest, even after months of being with Luke. The man in questioned approached you quietly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as you looked up at him.

“Luke, it’s 2 am, what are you doing here?” You asked despite the obvious answer, opening your shield of blankets for him to crawl onto the sofa with you. He made you wait, tipping out his reusable shopping bag onto the coffee table in front of you. There lay a pint of ice cream, tea bags, painkillers, and your favourite chocolate. Suddenly you weren’t sure if the heat on your face was fever or blush. Silently you held your arms out, and Luke dove into them with all the enthusiasm of a child, peppering your faces with all the kisses he could manage.

“Couldn’t let my girl be sick on her own,” He mumbled, nuzzling himself into the crook of your neck, eliciting a bout of giggles from you.

“My very own Prince Charming,” You grinned, pecking his temple. After a gratuitous moment of cuddling Luke peeled himself off you, taking on the role of concerned caretaker. He was quick to dart into the kitchen, turning the kettle on for your tea and grabbing a spoon for the ice cream he’d bought. Sitting himself in the vacant spot next to you he fixed his focus onto the TV.

“What are we watching?” He asked, pulling the lid off the ice cream tub for you.

“How I Met Your Mother, I’ve just reached season seven.” Luke gasped dramatically, holding his hands over his chest in faux outrage.

“You continued without me? How could you?” You laughed at his accusatory tone, shrugging your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Lukey. You have to forgive me though, I’m sick,” You punctuated the statement with a pathetic cough, smiling as Luke easily settled down.

You watched in silence for a bit, both giggling at the stupid jokes. After a while you felt Luke looking at you seriously, but chose not to think much of it, continuing to tune in to the show. When he pulled out a thermometer, you raised an eyebrow. Luke wasn’t usually one to be so prepared, but you let him rest it on your tongue nonetheless. When it read a concerningly high number Luke frowned, silently popping the painkillers out of their packaging, feeding you with the insistence of a fed up mother hen.

“Why aren’t you a nurse?” You joked, swallowing the medication with a mouthful of melted ice cream, “Rockstar be damned.”

“Only for you, love.”

“That’s not true, I’ve seen you fretting over Reggie,” You laughed, and Luke couldn’t help but join you.

“That’s fair. You’re my favourite, though.”

“How unexpected.” You craned your neck to press a kiss to his jaw, revelling in the dumb grin that crept onto his face.

You both settled into silence, you leant into Luke’s side, his hands rubbing soft circles into your thigh. You could feel yourself drifting in and out of sleep, never quite able to stay in it for one reason or another. The blanket was too hot, you were cold without it, your head hurt. Nothing was quite right and all you wanted to do was sleep for as long as humanly possible.

“Luke?” You whispered, in case he was already asleep.

“Yes, love?” He replied, shifting his position to look down at you. You faltered for a moment, overwhelmed with the pure adoration in his eyes.

“Will you play for me?” Luke was up in a second, arranging you on the sofa. You giggled as he manhandled you, lying you down and wrapping you tightly in your blanket so you couldn’t escape. You teased him about being his captive audience as he tuned his guitar quickly, never being so grateful for his perfect pitch.

Without anymore holdups Luke began to play, plucking softly at the strings to create a melody that filled the air of your little apartment. His playing was like a siren call, pressing weights on your eyelids until you could barely stand to keep them open. You watched him while you could, admiring the way the faint light from the kitchen lamp made him look like an Adonis, his hair illuminated in gold and his features accentuated by the shadows. You couldn’t believe he was your boyfriend. Luke Patterson, heartthrob of Julie and the Phantoms was your dorky, adoring boyfriend who would make supermarket trips in the middle of the night for you. Who had your favourite ice cream memorised and your key attached to his, so he could come see you whenever he missed you (which was pretty much always).

Despite the various aches and pains that had overtaken your body, the only thing you could feel as you drifted off to sleep was the burning ball of light in your chest, a chemical mixture of joy and love and gratitude, overtaking your senses one by one until you were asleep, dreams filled of beautiful images of your boyfriend.

When you woke up the next morning, you figured out it wasn’t morning at all. Luke had evidently switched off your phone’s alarm after you’d fallen asleep, and it was well into early afternoon when you’d arisen. To his credit though, the sleep had done you some good, and you felt much less like walking death after an intense sleep.

You untangled yourself from the knit blanket, your feet wobbly on the hard wood floors. You had serious post-nap daze, and wandered through your flat looking for your boyfriend. The poorly made sheets on your actual bed told you where Luke slept last night — or this morning, more accurately — you smiled at the way he’d arranged your stuffed animals.

Stuck to the fridge under your New York City magnet was a note from Luke, explaining he had to go to rehearsal but he’d be back later to check on you. You pulled the paper off, travelling back to your room to put the note in your ‘Luke’ box, adding to the collection of notes and drawings he’d given you inconsequentially that you’d held onto.

As the afternoon ticked by you’d gotten onto your computer, figuring that although you were still ill you should try and get something productive done. You were armed with your box of tissues as you got started on an assignment you had due at the end of the week, and slipped your headphones on to get into the headspace.

You screamed as a pair of arms wrapped around you from behind, quickly dissolving into giggles as you realised it was only Luke, back from rehearsal.

“Your voice still sounds scratchy, baby, how are you feeling?” He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Better, promise. Tomorrow I’ll probably go to class if I get another good night’s sleep.”

“That’s my girl.” He grinned, and you felt your insides melting all over again. You closed the laptop, knowing you weren’t going to get much more done now that Luke was with you.

You spent the evening together, ordering in pizza from the place around the corner and getting slightly wine drunk as Luke told you all about his earlier rehearsal and the antics of his band. He sang you part of the new song he and Julie had written and you applauded dramatically, only stopping when you broke into a coughing fit.

“Wanna watch something?” He asked when you grew tired again, cuddling up to him like a cat.

“Barbie?” You asked hopefully, looking up at him with wide eyes. Luke sighed dramatically, but you knew he was just pretending not to like the animated movies you’d grown up on.

“Only if it’s Island Princess,” He offered and you nodded enthusiastically.

The two of you settled in for the movie night, Luke getting much more into the movie as it went on, as he always did. By the end you were singing duets — your voice considerably less pleasing than his, especially due to your illness — Luke taking on the role of the prince letting you be Ro.

As the credits rolled you felt your eyes closing again, and you felt eerily like you did as a younger girl, falling asleep on the couch after a Barbie movie. This was better though, because now you had Luke next to you. He’d taken his role as big spoon extremely seriously, and had all but become one with the couch, pressing into the back as he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

You shifted your position to face him, watching his face relax into contentedness as he tried to doze off to sleep. Feeling you watch him he cracked one eye open, mouth producing a dumb grin that made butterflies erupt in your chest.

“What?” He asked, but you got the distinct impression he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Nothing,” You lied, but gave in easily, “You’re pretty.”

“You’re pretty too. Now go to sleep.” You nodded, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Kay, goodnight Lukey. I love you.”

I had the best six months of my life alongside wonderful people, and that became even clearer when the pandemic hit. The way we stayed connected through video calls, lives, TikToks, interviews, and stories made the monotony and worry of that moment much more bearable. But, of course, after the pandemic passed, the distance between us became a big issue. Plane tickets were expensive, everyone had their own schedules, and then the cancellation of Julie and the Phantoms happened. I don’t think I’ve ever cried so much—especially since I couldn’t even be on that stage when Kenny announced Netflix wouldn’t renew our show. Life went on, just as the Earth keeps spinning around the sun, and that’s okay.

My eyes drifted up from my phone, and all I found was my sister staring at me.

" What? " I asked, watching her climb into my bed and throw herself on top of me a millisecond later. " I feel like eating pistachio cookies " she mumbled against the pillow resting on my stomach. “Then just go downstairs, walk up the street, turn left, and buy the pistachio cookies ” I said, and she huffed. Bella is always too lazy to get anything from the shops just up the street from my apartment, and today was no different. “Bella! You’re not ordering cookies and paying double the price through an app when the store is right there.” “I know! I know. Maybe I’ll stop by later when I leave.” “Oh no, you won’t. I wanted you to bring me one too.”

“Well, tough luck,” my sister teased, making me huff without actually getting mad. I turned back to my phone, and a new post caught my attention, accompanied by a familiar voice in the audio. “Hmmm, Charlieeeeeee,” my sister groaned, teasing me, only to get a slap on her arm from me. “Shut up. I’m not buying you cookies after this,” I replied. “Come on. Look at the way you’re staring at him.” She turned and sprawled out beside me, resting her chin on her hands. “I’m just trying to listen to him sing. If you could kindly stay quiet, I’d appreciate it.” The song, apparently called "RODEO," was written by him, and I could almost feel my body combusting along with my mind. Charlie’s voice had always been one of my favorite things in the world since I met him. So much so that, during the time we shared an apartment with Owen for filming, he would hold me in his strong, long arms when I felt homesick, worried, or just plain cold—because, man, that apartment was freezing as fuck—and sing me to sleep. Not that I had a favorite, but Charlie became my best friend, and it was impossible not to cry when we filmed our last scene together, knowing it was the end. “You were in love with him once,” Bella’s voice snapped me out of my head, and I laughed. “I’m pretty sure you two were in love, actually.”

“I was sixteen, living with him, and he played my romantic interest. I won’t deny I had a crush on him, but it was an illusion. I love who he is, obviously. But you all need to stop thinking there was some romance happening.”

“Oh, please. I have eyes. Have you seen the videos of you two? You have! I’ve never seen anyone’s eyes light up like yours did.”

“Yes, I’ve seen them, and I lived it. So thank you, but there’s no need to say more because I treated him, and he treated me, like anyone else. Owen and I were just as close.”

“But you didn’t have the same chemistry with Owen. You and Owen almost never slept in the same bed.”

“Because he had a sort-of girlfriend, and I respect my friends.” Bella rolled her eyes, put her shoes on, and looked at me with mockery. “You’re blind.”

“I’m not blind. I haven’t seen him in five years.” “But you look at him like you’re about to cry.” Bella narrowed her eyes as if challenging me. “Because I miss the best friend I had once.” I got up from the bed, narrowing my eyes back at her. “Then talk to him.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“Why not?” “Because I said so!” Our playful argument shifted into something more serious. Bella seemed genuinely intrigued by my hesitation.

“That’s not an answer.” “Of course it is. I’m not texting someone who’s perfectly fine on their own.” Silence hung for two seconds, and then it was too late. Bella grabbed my phone from the bed and ran off, doing something I couldn’t see. “Bella! No!” I yelled, chasing her around my apartment.

“You don’t even have his number? What?” Her voice was pure indignation. “Americans and Canadians don’t use WhatsApp, you idiot.” All my 21-year-old maturity vanished in that second.

“And that’s why you don’t have any of your foreign friends’ numbers? Please. You have SMS.” Bella gritted her teeth, and I let out a loud sigh. “Isabella, put the phone down.”

“Why? Give me one good reason.”

“Your life is a good reason. I suggest you don’t.” “You know what? I’m going to buy cookies. Be right back.” Before I could stop her, Bella pressed the elevator button and closed the doors quickly. Did she seriously just steal my phone?

I rushed to the back exit, but it was pointless. She’d already be halfway there, and there was no way she’d be waiting for me at the cookie shop. So I sat and waited. She wouldn’t do anything crazy, right?

Right?

Wrong.

Half an hour later, she returned with a terrifying smile and a pistachio cookie for me.

“He thinks you should text him.” She shrugged, giving me a smug look.

“What did you do?” “You didn’t log into anything? Computer?” “Mom has the computer because I lent it to her, and you know that.” I clenched my teeth as she laughed. “Don’t worry; I only posted on your Daily account.” Sure, I’d created the unofficial account to talk about a million irrelevant things, but not that.

“Looks like Charlie and S/n need a reunion, don’t you think? @CHARLES_GILLESPIE 🙏😨👀”

The caption sat atop a picture of Bella making a hilariously exaggerated face. "Seriously?" "Delete it if you want."

"Now that roughly 10,000 people have already seen it, yeah, that’ll help." I said, rolling my eyes and deleting the post anyway, knowing full well it was already out there. "Weren’t you going home?" "Are you kicking me out?"

"Yes!" "Okay, okay. Sorry for meddling. I even brought you a cookie as a peace offering—look at the bright side, he answered. Bye, see you tomorrow." As soon as she left, I threw myself on the couch, getting up and pacing around more times than I could count. "Damn it." I muttered. "Fuck, Isabella." What was I supposed to say now?

It had been so long that I had forgotten your name saved in my contacts , cute.

CHARLIE BEAR🧸

— heeyy, she should text me little Pitella. — It's ridiculous how long we haven't spoken.

Of course, Bella didn’t even bother to answer his response to her story. Seriously?

— Hey! How’s it going? — Sorry about that! my phone was stolen for half an hour 😬. — Not cool at all.

That was good, right? Solid? As soon as his reply came almost immediately, I groaned, feeling my anxiety tighten every nerve in my body.

CHARLIE BEAR🧸

— Can I call you? Or is it a bad time?

The moment I sent my confirmation, my phone rang. Running my free hand through my hair instinctively, I realized how absurd that was—he couldn’t see me, after all. "Hey, stranger." His voice found me, warm and familiar, and I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, some of the tension dissipating. "Well, hi."

"How are you? It’s been so long, this is insane." Charlie had always been like that—bright and exuberant—and it was impossible not to let my smile widen.

"I’m good! Just trying to make better decisions. What about you? How have you been?" "Good, you know. Trying to make the world a better place and take care of what we’ve messed up." " Yeah, I’ve seen your trips—they look amazing." "I try to live a bit of good in every place I visit." "Classic Charlie Gillespie effect." I closed my eyes tightly, only reopening them when I heard his soft laughter.

"You’re not wrong. So, tell me—I heard you’re in the cast of some big movie? That’s incredible." "Yeab! It’s a book adaptation. I just hope people won’t be disappointed." "You could never disappoint anyone, beau. " words stretched the smile on my lips further. What was happening? "I try…" I kept it simple, hearing his deep sigh on the other end.

"I’m glad Bella posted that, you know?" He shot it out casually, and I adjusted my position on the couch, hugging my knees to my chest.

"I didn’t mean to bother you like that; she literally stole my phone. She’s seventeen but acts like she’s ten."

"Relax. She didn’t have a Charlie Gillespie at sixteen to keep her entertained." He bragged, and I burst into laughter. "You’re still so full of yourself.''

"I’m realistic." "And very, very arrogant." "I miss you. You know that, right?" His words hit me softly, and my smile turned bittersweet.

"It’s almost a crime that we’ve gone four years without a proper conversation." I whispered, hearing his agreement on the other end. "I still don’t understand why you never accepted moving here and staying with me. You know you’ve always had a room here. Koa would love you here. I would love you here."

"Charlie, you travel too much, and you know I’d drive you insane. I work too much, and I talk too much."

"I loved when you’d speak Portuguese to me." His words carried a chuckle from my end as memories flooded back—the nights he couldn’t sleep and would crawl into my bed, asking me to ramble in my southern-accented Portuguese until he drifted off. It was like soothing a baby.

"We haven’t spoken in four years, and you’re already nearly convincing me to abandon my life in Brazil." His laugh followed, accompanied by what I could imagine was his signature smile.

"I really do miss you. And don’t let the others hear this, but you’re the one I missed the most during this time. You were so soft to cuddle at night—you ruined me for everyone else." He said it like it was casual, but my lips pressed tightly together. What was happening? "I’m sure plenty of girls have kept you just as warm as I did, Charles."

"But none of them were you." His quiet murmur had my teeth sinking into my bottom lip. What was this? "Uh… okay. I’ve been thinking of traveling, but I’m not sure if I’ll have the time off. Maybe I could swing by?"

"Please do."

"Okay! I…" My gaze darted to the clock, my lips pressing tightly again. "I’ve got to go, but let’s keep in touch, please. You’re important to me." I whispered, feeling the vulnerability seep into my tone.

"Go ahead. Just don’t disappear again, please."

"Of course." I replied, and just as I was about to hang up, he called out.

"S/n."

"Yeah?"