You never really moved on from Luke.

It wasn't really because of lack of trying. Over the years, you tried — Lord, how you tried. Your friends set you up on dates, you went to speed dating events whenever you were invited to come along, you even briefly dipped yourself into online dating when it became a thing. Every time, it ended the same. A nice dinner, maybe a movie. And then came the part where they wanted more. Where they wanted to meet with you again. Where they wanted to know you better. Where they — maybe — had developed a crush on you.

And you just... couldn't. You felt nothing for those people. So it always ended the same way, a polite smile and a rejection, explaining that there's nothing wrong with them, but you can't feel the connection the same way they do. Sometimes you learned afterwards that the man who had been interested in you turned out to be a dream boyfriend for someone lucky, and your friends jabbed you a little, telling you that you could have been that person if you just had given him a chance.

It hurt, even though you agreed that clinging to your childhood sweetheart after 25 years was stupid. But you never got to say a proper goodbye. When you had seen him for the last time, you had felt annoyed because he cancelled your second anniversary date because of an Orpheum gig practice. You had tried to hide it and pretend to be happy, but Luke had seen you weren't as happy as he expected, but he promised to make it up to you later. Still, it was such a small thing, you had been so angry at yourself afterwards because the gig was a huge opportunity, a chance of a lifetime, yet you had voiced your disappointment about your cancelled date like a petty child.

Well, you were a teenager, strong emotions with disappointments like that were normal. But... still. You felt so horrible after.

25 years had passed from their death, and something changed.

Items misplaced. Your favourite vinyl record had somehow traveled from your shelf to the player without you even touching it. Your Sunset Curve shirt was on your bed one morning as you woke up. A scent of deodorant in the kitchen, and you swore it was the brand Luke always used. You hadn't smelled that for 25 years, and now it just... came to your nose all of a sudden.

Every time something strange happened, you closed your eyes and told yourself that you were just tired and stressed. The boys' death anniversary was coming up again after all.

And after a few days, the strange occurrences stopped just as quickly as they started.

But then, something happened. Good Morning America had this segment of a girl named Julie, who played with some Swedish boy band, and they were somehow streamed as holograms to play with her at first but had now come to the States for a proper tour. You didn't pay much notice to it at first, the TV was on in the background while you did dishes, but then... one of the boys sang.

And you recognised it immediately, and had to run to the living room to confirm.

Luke. Along with Reggie and Alex.

And they didn't look a day older than they did when you last saw them.

How?

The segment went through in a blur, you barely heard what was said, you just stood there with a towel in hand, wondering if you're becoming crazy, or if this is a dream.

As days went by, it became clear that it wasn't a dream. And you knew you couldn't just stand by, you had to find them. You had to find Luke.

So, when you caught an ad for one of their gigs, you snatched a ticket and made your way to the venue a few months later.

You felt ridiculous standing there, in the middle of teenagers and young adults, snapping selfies of themselves and gushing how cute the boys were, while you were there, feeling so out of place. You hadn't gone to gigs for years, it felt so foreign now. And to be honest, you started having second thoughts. Would you even see Luke? What would you say to him?

What could you say to him?

You stood there throughout the whole gig, just staring at Luke, before they left the stage and you hurried forward to catch one of the staff members.

"I need to get to the backstage," you told her, and she raised her eyebrows.

"Meet-and-greets were sold out weeks ago, and unfortunately—"

"No, I... I know them. From... before. Please, they want to see me." You hesitated, but then told her your full name. "Tell Luke Patterson I'm here. If he says he doesn't know me, then I'll go. But please, just go ask him, tell him my name."

She stared at you for a moment longer, clearly hesitating whether to believe you. You knew it was probably weird to her, maybe even creepy, a middle-aged fan potentially obsessing over a teenage boy. But finally, she sighed. "Fine. Wait here."

You let out a breath. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

She disappeared around the corner, and you could almost hear the blood rushing through your veins from how quick your heart was beating. It took only a few minutes, but you felt like it was hours.

You still didn't fully believe this wasn't some crazy dream. Or maybe you had died yourself and this was the afterlife? Or you were in a coma and this was a dream. You remembered reading about a man who hit his head and dreamed about a full life while being unconscious, and when he woke up with paramedics around him, he was left mourning after his wife and kids who had never existed.

You weren't sure if you wanted this to be that kind of phenomenon. On the other hand, you wanted nothing more than to meet Luke one last time, tell him everything you wanted to say before he died, and maybe finally be able to move on. But on the other hand, you weren't sure if you would be able to take it, your life had moved on while he had been frozen in time. You weren't sure if you would be able to let go of the memory of him. You weren't sure if your broken heart would finally find its way home after all.

"Alright, you may come backstage. But no funny business, alright?" a deep voice interrupted your thoughts, and you met eyes with a bulky security man who fumbled with the lock of the gate before opening it.

"Of course not," you murmured, and slipped through the gate before he locked it again.

You followed the security guy through a narrow hallway, catching glimpses of staff members doing something, but your eyes were fixed forward, your heart thumping faster and faster.

Finally, you stood in front of the dressing room and the security guy glanced at you before he knocked twice.

"A visitor for Luke," he called out, and you heard steps from the other side before he pushed the door open and gestured you to enter. You hesitated, glancing between the door and him, before you managed to force yourself to step forward.

You stood at the door for a good minute, taking the sight in. None of the boys didn't notice you at first, probably exhausted after the gig. Alex had a towel over his shoulders, Reggie was tuning his guitar, and... Luke laid on the sofa with his arm over his eyes.

"Luke," you squeaked out, making him groan and stir, before moving his arm just enough to look at you.

He stared at you. You stared at him back.

Then, he jumped up, gasping your name, which prompted Reggie and Alex to look up as well.

"Yeah," you said with a nervous laugh. "I saw a video of you in Good Morning America, and—"

But you were cut off when Luke basically ran to you, wrapping his arms around you. "I'm so sorry," he whispered against your shoulder. "For everything. For not being there. For leaving you like that."

You shook your head, pulling away from him. "No, I'm sorry. I was an ass that day, I was jealous of your fans, because you had a practice booked for the Orpheum gig, and—"

He cut you off again, "No, stop. I understand."

You swallowed, feeling Reggie and Alex stare at you, before Reggie spoke up. "You look... different."

You couldn't help but laugh again. "Well, 25 years can do that to a person."

Reggie blinked, then slapped his forehead. "Oh. Right."

Alex suddenly jumped up. "Oh! Oh my gosh, wait a second. Now I see it. Holy crap. It's you, isn't it?"

"Of course it's them, they haven't changed that much."

"Haven't changed that much?" Reggie echoed. "Luke, they've aged, like... beautifully, don't get me wrong, but still 25 years! It's not like time froze for them, like it did for us."

You kept grinning, you had missed the boys and their silliness. "Thanks? I guess."

You were quiet for a moment, before Luke cupped your cheek. "Don't care about them, I'd recognise you everywhere."

You averted your eyes from his and sighed. "You guys look just like you did back when... that happened."

Luke laughed this time, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, the perks of being a ghost. Or, well, whatever we are now."

Ghosts?

"So, you came to my home and haunted me?" you asked, frowning.

He hesitated, but then shrugged. "I wouldn't say I haunted you, I tried to leave little signs. But I needed to see you."

"But... why did you wait for 25 years for that?"

Luke sighed, gesturing towards the door at the back. "Uh, our singer, Julie, found our old demo disc from her attic a few months ago and it just... somehow brought us back? We weren't here as ghosts or anything else before now, we weren't able to see the world change after... us. We thought that it had only been an hour when we came back."

Reggie smirked, pointing at Alex. "So basically Alex here cried for 25 years straight."

Alex scoffed. "It was still only an hour for us!"

You were quiet again. "So... what does this mean for us?"

Luke closed his eyes for a moment. "I... don't know. When we realised how much time had passed, I thought... I thought maybe it'd be better to stop coming by your house. But I still love you, and want to be with you."

Alex cleared his throat, making you look up at him. "Uh, hate to interrupt, but maybe we should give you two a moment?" He grabbed Reggie by the arm before the other boy could protest, and they both slipped out of the room.

The words started spilling out the moment the door clicked shut. "Luke, I've carried you with me all this time. You were my first love, and no one else ever came close. But this... this isn't something we can just pick up again."

Luke was quiet for a moment, and then nodded slowly, his hands falling down from your cheeks. "You're right. We can't."

You felt a tear slipping down from your eye and wiped it off. "So... friends?"

He smiled a little, though it was awkward, disappointed, rigid. "Yeah. Friends."

You knew it was a bittersweet ending for your love story that had been so dreamy and storybook-like all those years ago, but it was better this way.