PERFECT HARMONY from JULIE AND THE PHANTOMS ➯ rehearsal vs. final performance
feat. Madison Reyes and Charlie Gillespie, via Behind the Band (ep. 4)
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Julie and Luke do some writing, and it leads to an unexpected moment between them. Just a quick little oneshot, just under 2k :)
They’re sitting on the couch in the studio.
Luke's pressed against her, his thigh against hers, her arm against his. He's staring at her with wide eyes, brows raised, open in a way he always is whenever it's just the two of them in the studio together. The way he always is when they write music together.
Awe, that's the word for it.
Not that she would say that out loud. Luke would probably not disagree though.
She gets it, she understands, because the way they work together fills her with awe too. It's so easy, writing with Luke, because no one has quite gotten Julie's love for music like Luke has, except for her mom. It's a small, special little place in Julie's chest, right next to her heart and her soul.
"Do you think recall is better, or maybe just use remember?" He taps the back of his pen against his lips. "I liked what you said? Echo? But I'm not sure how to make it fit with the rest of the line."
He tilts the page of their notebook toward her, balancing it between their thighs. She leans in; she briefly loses the warmth of their pressed-together arms until he follows, nudging. He's cool to the touch, except for when they linger. She turns her head, finds him right there. He smiles at her, looking at her face. His eyes flicker down.
"What?" she asks, grinning, smile growing despite herself.
"Nothing," he whispers, his smile shakes and his brow furrows as he stares at her. "Just looking."
"Just looking?" She quirks her brow at him. "At what?"
"You." His voice fades off. He clears his throat. "Watching you think."
She giggles. "Right. Okay."
Julie nudges him with her shoulder, and Luke's head drops as he smiles. His cheeks turn pink, and Julie always marvels that he can still do that. He's her ghost, but he still blushes.
"Echo works," she says, giving him a break.
He raises his head and blearily looks at her, eyes crinkling in suspicion, but he takes the out.
"''Hear that I echo,'" he reads slowly as he scrawls the word onto the page, " In' should go here, 'in every moment that's…' and that's all I've got. Maybe happened? Or will happen?"
"I like echo," she says, eyes scanning the page, "it feels like… because it feels like it's more resonating. Like you're not remembering or recalling, you're something that expands out. Not just a memory. Echoes bounce, right? It still feels like something that could reach into the future."
"Like me," he jokes.
"Like you," she agrees.
Luke's smile briefly turns into a frown. "You don't think Alex and Reggie wil mind that this is just the two of us? I always wrote for four, and…"
She smiles. "They won't. I already asked. I told Reggie he could perform one country song. Alex says he gets to go crazy on the fills for Wasted Time though."
Luke groans, falling back against the couch. She grins and turns back. He's watching her through squinty eyes, narrowed at her with his nose all scrunched up. She laughs at him.
"Alex's fills are always good but why'd you tell Reggie that! We have to stay focused; people want to a clear identity, and so do labels! If we go off script—"
"And this won't?"
Luke groans.
She pokes his arm. "Hey, it's fine—!"
He reaches around and grabs her, pulling her into his chest. Her chin bumps against his t-shirt and she looks up as he looks down. His arms are cool, slinking around over her shoulders so that his hands rest on her back. Her hand on his chest, just over his heart, where it should be and would be if he were still alive. His cheeks tinge pink. Julie wants to reach up and touch them. Would she be able to feel the heat?
Rapid pounding in her chest reminds her to breath. She stiffles her quickening breath and it's shaky.
"Hi," he whispers.
"Hi," she whispers back.
The notebook slips off their legs and to the floor.
She spreads her hand out against his shirt and Luke's eyes flutter closed. Her chest is empty, she's forgotten to breathe, and each breath she takes to recoup is shaky and stuttery, unable to be fully realized. Her hand trails across his chest and she leans down, kissing the spot over his heart.
His lips quirk up, lower lip shaking, and his hands squeeze her closer. Fingers rough after years of playing guitar, they scratch at her skin as he drags his hands under the hem of her shirt. Julie lets out a fluttery laugh. Luke's eyes scrunch as if he's looking directly into the sun, and then he leans forward and kisses her forehead.
She drags her leg up over his. It's strange, her back bent a bit awkwardly, his arms around hers, her leg over his, but Julie doesn't mind at all. She wants to be as close as she can, closer, and she wants to feel the coolness of her ghost realize in a warmth they create whenever they're pressed against each other. She sighs in his arms, but then his arms loosen.
Julie opens her eyes, tilts her head up so she can look at him.
He stares over her head. Julie turns as far as she can look in his arms, and finds nothing there. Just the studio. Alex's drums. Luke's other guitar leaning against the wall. Reggie's bass to the left of it. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing different from the usual cloudy afternoon spring light that filters in through the window.
"Do you see it?" he asks, his brows furrowed over his grey eyes.
He looks so confused, she has to check again. She looks, but there's nothing. "Is it another ghost? Luke? Hey. Look at me."
But he doesn't. His gaze is locked. He starts to sit up, shoulders falling back as if he's been brought to attention. Luke's eyes are faraway, and they look brighter than she's ever seen them.
"Wow," he breathes. "It's so warm."
"Luke." Julie straightens, forces herself up as his arm falls lip behind her. It leaves a gaping feeling of cold. She reaches up and brushes her fingers under his chin, gently coaxing him to look at her. "Luke, what are you seeing?"
Even as he turns his head at the quiet touch of her hand, his eyes never leave the spot behind her. Julie's lips quiver. He's so still, quiet. There are tears in his eyes, wet-rimmed and red. Whatever he sees in front of him, it's making him cry. The look in his eyes is familiar; awe. Julie's seen it before.
She doesn't say it out loud.
"I…" his voice falters. "It's…" he lets out a yearning whimper. His hand twitches up and Julie feels him tense beneath her fingers, coiling like a spring ready to go. "It's a light, Julie…" He swallows. "I…"
Urgency floods her, a frantic thudding in her chest forces her hands up to grab both sides of his face. Distantly, she recognizes that it does feel warm. She thumbs the soft skin under his eyes, wipes away tears that escape. "Luke, listen to me! Hey! You can't go—!"
Luke's eyes are still focused on the light. His brows furrow, turn in in confusion. He is hearing her, she knows it. The revelation spurs her into action. She forces him to look at her, turning his head as gently but as urgently as she can until his eyes finally settle on her. The expression on his face shocks her; he looks pained.
He wants this, she realizes, he wants this. His lips quiver, his eyes leak tears.
Julie falters. She's going to be selfish. And she knows she shouldn't.
"Stay," she whispers, "please don't go. You can't go yet." Her heart skips beats. Her chest is empty and void, a yawning pit that's opening up and become a cavernous wound. "You can't go, because you're supposed to be here with me, remember? You and I? We were supposed to find each other and you're not allowed to go. You can't leave me, Luke."
He whimpers again. "But I was so happy. I have to go now."
Julie squeezes her eyes shut. Turning her head, she opens them again. There's nothing there that she can see. She's not part of this. As she looks, hoping she'll find the culprit and see the enemy, the feeling of warmth under her fingers begins to fade. Julie snaps back.
Luke's not all there. Her fingers sink into his cheeks. She's on her knees on the couch in front of him, and where he was becomes empty, and she nearly falls over. She steadies herself with a hand through his shoulder. Luke barely even notices. He's turning back to look at the light.
Julie studies him through her own tears. He's out of her reach again, a ghost. She'd always been afraid this would happen again; the first few weeks after they could first touch, so long ago, she'd dreamt they'd lose it. And here it is, right at the end. But he looks so earnest, so hopeful.
"Please don't go," she whispers, closing her eyes. She sniffs. "Please."
This is too soon. This isn't fair.
"Julie?" he says.
Her eyes snap open.
He's looking at her again, but his expression hasn't changed. Luke Patterson's ghost reaches up and cradles her cheek. Faint, like sunlight on your face in the winter. Julie leans in, chest bowing as she sobs.
"Can I go?" he asks her.
Julie searches his face. No. No, she wants to say, you can't go. Be selfish. But under his hand is thae warmth that he must be feeling, warmth that comes from the light, and it's as if she's home. She get's the share in it, just this moment.
"Okay," she whispers. "Go."
And then he's gone.
He doesn't fade. One moment there, one moment gone. The warm light Luke had described was never there for her, so it doesn't fade either. The room is emtpy aside from her. Nothing else exists here.
The final moments betwen them feel like someone else's half-remembered dream. Described to her, but not lived. It's as if she's just woken up, too, her limbs heavy with lead. She struggles, reaches up, touches the corner of her eyes and wipes away the tears. She suddenly doesn't remember crying, just waking to them. Her fingers traces down her cheek, cool to the touch, sticky with tears, and then up to her forehead where he'd kissed her.
Her fingers linger there before she drops her hand. Julie falls back, twists and curls up on the couch. The spot where he'd been wasn't even warm. He'd left no impression. A ghost. An echo, even.
It takes her minutes to stand up. Maybe longer. She staggers away.
Charlie Gillespie dropping “Unsaid Emily” live in the year of our lord 2026 while I’m planning my next tattoo means it’s finally time to plan my JATP tattoo! 🤭 Five years on and this show is still lodged in my soul.
hi let’s discuss physical touch in julie and the phantoms
because i was thinking about julie saving the boys after stand tall, and i’ve always summed it up as ‘julie’s love for them’ or the ‘power of friendship’ or basically everything beautiful, right?
but I think there’s something so incredible about julie saving the boys through touch. yes, she says ‘i love you guys,’ but alex and reggie don’t actually start to feel better until they’re hugging her, too.
and the boys are physically affectionate from minute one of the show, basically. they’re tactile and they’re comfortable with each other and touch is a love language they’re all fluent in.
then they meet julie, they all become friends, they all love one another, but they can’t share that same love language. like, how many times did alex go to high five julie and then remember? these boys spent 25 years with only each other, and then they were with julie. they absolutely would’ve had a learning curve on ‘don’t try to hug julie bc we can’t’ and that’s painful because physical touch is so important to them!!!
and then julie physically pulls luke away from second death’s doorstep and into her arms and her touch, the love language the boys speak so well, saves them. the moment she can reciprocate, the boys become stronger.
i think it’s just crazy stupid beautiful how this show emphasizes platonic relationships and displays of affection because it makes it all so much more powerful imo. like, I am never going to be over the fact that the two main couples of the show share hugs as their Big Romantic Moments!! it’s SO IMPORTANT
so anyway to sum up the love language of julie & her phantoms is touch and they deserve all the hugs literally forever
