3-5: Fourth of July

You are my favorite "what if"
You are my best "I'll never know"

---------------------------

A boom echoed in the air, and Apollo's eyes snapped open. He glanced at the window next to his bed. Another boom sounded, but no bright lights illuminated the sunny sky.

"Because it's fucking day time and people are trying to sleep.

Why does stupid shit have to keep waking me up?"

He rolled over, glaring at his alarm clock. It was only ten in the morning. And he didn't give a fuck if it was the fourth of July, or not. It was too early for fireworks.

His phone vibrated from his bedside table, Harpia's face on the screen. He pulled it to his ear, surprised she was even talking to him at all after that day at Blake's.

"What's up?"

"I'm guessing you were sleeping.

I called twice."

He sat up, running his hands over his face.

"When am I not sleeping?"

"Never."

She laughed, and that surprised him too.

"I called because I was going to invite you and the guys to our place for the Fourth of July.

Fireworks, barbecue, all that shit.

Paige already said yes, so you might as well just say yes too."

Apollo hesitated, but it was only for a split second.

"I'm down. I'll convince Hale and Vega too."

He didn't mention Blake because he knew Paige would already have him going. He didn't know how to say no to her.

"Sweet! We're going to start cooking in like two hours.

So don't go back to sleep."

Her voice was serious, and Apollo couldn't help but chuckle.

"I won't. I'll be there, I promise."

Harpia was quiet for a moment, and when she spoke again it was quieter than it had been before.

"You and your promises."

Before Apollo could respond, the line went dead. He didn't know what that meant, but it meant something.

He got dressed quickly, glancing around the room. Nothing was out of place.

But somehow it felt like it was.

A deep seated feeling that he was not where he should be resided in his chest consistently.

And lately, all it seemed to do, was intensify.

He sent Hale and Vega texts about meeting at the O'Conner's, catching his reflection in the mirror on his wall.

He stared at it for a moment, his eyes surveying his appearance.

He looked tired. He looked out of place.

And he was. He always was.

He let out a noise, pulling a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. He walked over to the mirror, shaking his head. His mother had left a blanket on top of his dresser, and he grabbed it, putting it over the reflective surface of the glass.

For one night, he didn't want to see that look in his own eyes.

----------------------------

"Are you gonna wear those sunglasses all night? You look like a douche."

Apollo glanced over at Blake, lighting the fuse of the firework he was holding.

"You should probably be nicer to someone who has something explosive in his hand."

He threw the firecrackers in the ditch outside of Harpia's house, lighting the cigarette in his hand as they began to explode.

He blew a plume of smoke into the air and shook his head, glancing toward the backyard.

"Sorry, that's your girlfriend's job. Aiming roman candles at people's faces."

Blake snorted, watching Paige and Harpia laughing on the porch steps.

"You deserved that.

Shouldn't tell me to break up with her within her earshot."

Apollo pulled the sunglasses off of his face, shoving them in his pocket. He followed Blake's gaze, his eyes on Harpia. He watched her talk, smile, throw glances at him. One's she probably thought he didn't notice.

But he did. How could he not?

"Why don't you just go talk to her?

You guys were in my dad's bed doing God knows what just a few days ago. It's not like she doesn't want you."

Apollo tossed the cigarette in the ditch where the firecrackers had been. He directed his attention back to Blake, shrugging.

"She's just a girl. It's not like it's anything more than friends."

Blake raised an eyebrow, his voice skeptical.

"...Right.

Do you forget I grew up with you two?"

Hale appeared from the side of his car, his voice blatant when he spoke.

"Are we talking about Harpia again?"

Apollo squeezed his eyes shut at Hale's words. When he opened them again, Harpia was staring right at them.

"I hate both of you."

Apollo muttered the words, watching her. She got to her feet and Paige followed close behind her when they walked over to them.

"You're talking about me?"

Apollo looked at Hale, pointedly.

"No."

Hale rubbed his hand under his nose, rolling his eyes.

"He's lying."

A boom echoed behind the five of them, and they all looked up at the sky. Harpia's brothers had set something off and it littered the air.

Apollo glanced at Harpia again, and her eyes reflected the flames. She crossed her arms over her chest, fixing him with an icy stare.

He moved closer to her, bending down so his lips were at her ear.

"You still mad at me?"

Harpia rolled her eyes.

"You wouldn't be here if I was."

She glared up at him, her lips forming a small pout.

"And stop talking about me. Unless you can say it to me, don't say it about me."

Apollo was taken aback, but only for a second.

"I'd never say anything bad about you, Sage."

She continued to glare at him, but her expression softened. Eventually, she relaxed, her pout turning into a small smile.

"Okay, Polly."

She uncrossed her arms, putting one through his.

"I'm glad that you're here."

He smiled, standing back up straight, aware of just how close she was. 

"I am too."

"You should just kiss her, already. She keeps talking about it. You kissing her that night in front of Blake's door.

How sweet it was."

Apollo and Harpia both turned around to look at Paige. Her face looked as if her words had been sour.

"Shut up, Paige."

Harpia hissed the words, her cheeks turning red.

"What are you guys, like, thirteen? This shouldn't be this hard."

Blake put his arms around Paige's shoulders, a grin on his face.

"Just kiss. Fuck. Whatever. This awkward sexual tension is almost as bad as both of our dad's."

Paige snorted.

"He's right. You two are gross, but obviously like each other. So do something about it."

Apollo glanced down at Harpia, but she still wasn't looking at him. Her glare was fixed right at Paige. And if looks could kill, he was sure the psychotic midget would be dead.

"Why don't you two just go away?"

Harpia removed her arm from Apollo's, crossing them over her chest again.

"I ship it. It's really gross but, I ship it."

Paige's voice was singsong, and Blake looked amused. Apollo had to remind himself that Blake needed his face to keep himself from punching him in it.

Apollo cleared his throat, turning to Harpia. He leaned down, pressing his lips to hers for just a second. Just like in front of Blake's door.

She was so surprised, she didn't even return it. She just froze in place.

Apollo looked up at Blake, and then at Paige, raising an eyebrow.

"Can you go away, now?"

Paige grimaced, turning for the yard, away from them.

"I didn't want to fucking see it. Ew."

She walked away, Blake laughing as he followed her.

Harpia's glare was back as she looked up at Apollo.

"You're lucky I didn't punch you again."

Apollo tilted his head as another firework exploded in the sky behind Harpia.

"Am I?"

Her cheeks flushed and she shook her head.

"I don't like you."

Apollo put his hands on either side of her face, kissing her again, a little longer this time.

"I don't believe you."

She pushed him away, but she was laughing as she did it.

"I really don't like you."

He took her hand with his, turning her around to look at the fireworks that were becoming steadier in the California night sky.

"I still don't believe you."

She pressed backwards into him, leaning her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she said it quietly. So quietly, it should have gotten lost in the explosions.

But he heard every syllable.

"Yeah, but you're wrong, because I love you."

He stiffened, tightening his arms around her.

"I know, Harpia. You're my best friend. I love you too."

The sky lit up with bright blues and greens and reds. The air smelled like smoke and fire and California summer. Hale and Vega were making loud noises from somewhere on the lawn, and he knew that everyone was having fun, and he was usually right in the middle of it.  But he was too caught up in Harpia's reactions to him that he couldn't really get into it.

He was just focused on her.

And he couldn't really figure out what was happening between them.

Or figure out why, now, she seemed like the only thing he shouldn't leave behind.

-----------------------------

Apollo was putting the last of the coolers into Blake's Jeep that he had brought, when he heard someone clear their throat behind him. He shut the back of the jeep and sighed, turning around and fully expecting it to be Paige, being obnoxious. Again.

But it wasn't Paige.

It was Harpia.

She had changed out of whatever she had been wearing, into really short shorts. Probably pajamas. And it made it really hard to look at her face instead of her legs. Her hips. He cleared his throat the same way that she had, but for an entirely different reason.

"I thought you were going to bed?"

Harpia nodded, biting down on her lip. Which didn't help Apollo's already acquisitive thoughts. He leaned against the spare tire of Blake's Jeep, crossing his arms over his chest. He was trying really hard to keep his focus above her chest. 

"I was. I just forgot something."

Apollo glanced at the back of Blake's Jeep. He hadn't taken anything of Harpia's that he was aware of.

He looked back at her in confusion.

"What?"

She laughed, shaking her head.

"You're so stupid sometimes, I swear."



She put her arm around his neck, still having to press upwards with him leaning to reach his lips. Her kiss was hesitant, but he returned it, curling his fingers in the ends of her hair.

She tasted like Diet Pepsi, and something else. Something sweeter than that.

Her skin was warm against his in the summer heat, and he didn't want to let her go, even when he did.

Her eyes were lit up by the streetlights, and she glowed again.

She looked beautiful.

Had she always looked like that?

"Goodnight, Polly."

He was brought out of his thoughts by her words, and he nodded, watching her walk back up the steps and into her house.

"Night, Sage."

"You are fucking hopeless."

Apollo snapped his attention to Blake, who was leaning against the side of his Jeep with one hand.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Apollo slammed the back of the Jeep shut, and Blake scoffed.

"Just ask her out. What can it hurt?"

Apollo hesitated to answer, glancing back at Harpia's front door.

"A lot."

He muttered the word, turning for his own house.

"You're gonna regret it if you don't.

She'll find someone else again, and you'll be a miserable ass.

Again."

Apollo turned around, walking backwards toward his house.

He held his middle finger up, grinning.

"Goodnight, Grilletto."

Blake climbed in the driver's side of his jeep, returning Apollo's gesture.

"Goodnight, asshole."

----------------------

I said I'd never miss you
But I guess you never know
May the bridges I have burned light my way back home
On the fourth of July

3-4: Be Like That

-----------------------------

"Apollo."

The voice registered somewhere in his head. He knew it well, but he tried to keep it from touching him. He wanted to sleep. Not have a conversation. Even if it was Harpia.

"Apollo. Your fucking phone keeps buzzing. Wake up."

She nudged his side, but he rolled over, away from her.

"What time is it?"

He grumbled the words, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"It's two PM and if you don't answer this phone, I am going to.

The name says Powder Boy, and I'm not sure that I even want to know who it is."

Apollo pulled the pillow from under his head over his face, his words still touched with the sleep he wanted to be in.

"It's Hale. Just answer it."

Harpia sighed, clearing her throat softly before speaking into the receiver.

"Hello?"

She paused.

"No. He refuses to wake up.

....No we didn't have sex, Hale."

Another pause.

"Okay. I'll tell him.

And thanks. I'll let him know that too."

Harpia leaned against Apollo's back, moving the pillow from his face.

"Okay, sleepyhead. Time to get the fuck up."

She tossed the pillow on the ground, poking Apollo in the face. He responded with a groan sitting up and running his hands over his face.

"Alright. Just talk quieter. I can't hear that loudly this early."

Harpia raised an eyebrow, handing him his phone.

"I repeat, it's two PM. And Hale said that you guys got rejected by some label.

And that you need to call him ASAP.

And that you should remember to use a condom."

She cracked a smile when she spoke the last sentence, but Apollo barely registered her comment. He was still stuck on the word 'rejected'.

"Of course we fucking were."

He shoved his phone in his pocket, moving off of the bed in one quick movement.

He pushed his shoes on his feet, glancing over his shoulder at her. She was still under the blankets, and her skin almost glowed. She looked happy. Peaceful.

But worry touched her eyes.

Which probably had something to do with the anger that spilled into Apollo's veins and exuded in his actions.

"You're leaving?"

Apollo glanced around the room, half assed seeing if he was leaving anything behind and turned to face her.

"This isn't my house. I don't know when Blake's dad will be back, and my band just got rejected by another label.

Laying in bed with you isn't on the top of my priorities right now."

Her face dimmed a little, and she looked slightly hurt by his words.

She removed herself from the blankets, calmly putting her shoes on like he had done. She walked over to the door, brushing past him on her way.

"Harpia, wait. I didn't mean I didn't want to stay with you-"

She met his gaze, shaking her head.

"Don't worry about it. Your music comes first, right?"

She left the room, taking the stairs three at a time when she reached them.

She sighed when she reached the front door, glaring up at Apollo from her spot.

"Keys?"

He extracted them from his pocket and tossed them to her. She caught them easily, pulling the door open.

But before she exited, she looked back up at him one more time.

"Your priorities are a little fucked up, you know."

She slammed the door shut, and Apollo didn't know what he had even done wrong.

He kicked aside a forgotten drink on the floor and it spilled across the few steps at the bottom of the stairs.

"Fuck this."

He exited the way she had, not bothering to fix the mess he was leaving behind.

It seemed to always be the easiest answer, after all.

---------------------------------

"Alright, calm down. Before you break the fucking guitar."

Blake wiped his hands on his jeans, readjusting the amp controls at his feet.

Apollo's hands shook as he tried to tune the strings. He hadn't calmed down since he'd left Harpia. Practicing wasn't doing anything but reminding him of the phone call from Hale.

"This is pointless. I can't focus."

He sat the guitar aside, picking up the drink that he had set on the table in front of him.

"Couldn't be the alcohol, right?"

Apollo took a drink out of the coke bottle he'd filled halfway with vodka, raising his middle finger towards Blake.

Blake struck a few notes on his own guitar, and the melody poured into the confines of the garage. It sounded exactly as it should. He never messed up. Not drunk, not pissed off, never. Nothing screwed with his performance, or his talent.

And Apollo would always have a hint of jealousy about it.

But there was a reason why Blake was the main guitarist and Apollo was mostly on vocals. Blake had talent that Apollo didn't.

If Apollo was good, Blake was the best.

And Apollo knew it. They all did.

It was the main reason why Apollo dealt with the aggravation Blake instilled in him. The band needed him.

Hale came into the garage through the house, shutting the door behind him quietly.

He glanced between Blake and Apollo, and then at the empty drum set.

"Where the fuck is Vega?"

Apollo shrugged, taking another drink and putting his feet up on the coffee table where a bunch of miscellaneous band stuff was sitting.

"He's late. Like you.

What were you even doing?"

Hale pushed Apollo's feet off of the table, brushing dirt off of a stack of sheet music.

"Not drinking. Or getting the songs I've been working on for six months fucking dirty.

Watch what you're doing, vampire."

He sat on the couch next to Apollo, pulling a pen out from behind his ear.

He jotted down something on a pad of paper he pulled out of his pocket, instantly distracted.

A crash resounded from right outside the garage, and it was followed by a small series of other crashes. The three guys inside the garage exchanged a look.

Blake muttered something under his breath, walking over and hitting the button to bring the garage door up.

When it opened, Vega was on the ground on the other side, and three trash cans were knocked over beside him.

"Uh... What the fuck happened?"

Blake asked the question like he didn't really want to know the answer.

Vega got to his feet, his eyes lit up and a huge smile on his face.

"I saw a cat. Tried to catch it. It ran in between the trash bags and I slipped on Apollo's skateboard and now here I am."

He raised his hands in the air and Apollo tilted his head, disbelief in his voice.

"You followed a fucking cat?"

Vega shrugged a shoulder, walking into the garage.

"It was a nice cat."

Blake laughed, pressing the button to bring the garage door back down.

"You're an idiot, Vega."

Hale sat the notepad back down on the table, this time far away from where Apollo's shoes could be.

"And this is the group of assholes who want to be famous."

Apollo grabbed his guitar from where he had put it, glancing at Hale.

"The group of assholes who will be famous."

He took Hale's bass from the side of the couch and handed it to him as Vega took his spot behind the drums.

He felt better. Probably because they were all there now. They could practice. And in the back of Apollo's mind, he was convinced that practice would get them where they needed to be.

Ten years of this.

They had to get somewhere, someday.

"Get rich or die trying, right Apollo?"

Apollo looked at Vega as he got to his feet, laughing under his breath.

"Blake's right. You're an idiot."

--------------------------

"Why are you still awake, Apollo?

I know it's your birthday, but birthday boys still need to sleep."

Ryan leaned against the door frame of his youngest son's room. Apollo was on his knees, his face close to the cold glass of his window. He was staring up at the sky, and his voice was full of something Ryan wasn't used to hearing.

"I'm just looking at the stars, dad."

He sat down flat, turning around and finally directing his gaze onto his father.

"Do you think that maybe someday I could be like that?"

Ryan pushed off of the frame, walking over and taking a seat on Apollo's bed.

"Be like what?"

"Bright. A star. Someone important."

Ryan's forehead creased and he looked up at the sky that Apollo had just been so interested in.

He had just turned nine years old, and he was worried about this?

"I think that you can be anything you want to be, if you put your mind to it."

Apollo pulled his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them.

"I want to be like those people on TV. The ones who sing music and play instruments and everyone knows who they are."

Ryan tilted his head, something familiar falling into place in his chest. 

His dreams sounded vaguely like his mother's.

Maybe not in quite the same way. But it was reminiscent of it.

"I think you can be exactly that."

He reached out, ruffling the jet black hair on his son's head.

"What do you say tomorrow we go and look at guitars?"

Apollo's eyes brightened and a huge smile spread across his lips.

"Really?"

Ryan nodded, laughing softly.

"Really.

But, in order for you to be a star, and play guitar like those people on TV, you have to sleep."

He pulled the blankets from underneath Apollo over his legs, pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

"They don't seem like they sleep much. All they really seem to do is have fun."

Ryan nudged his son backwards onto his pillow, tucking the blankets in around him.

"Fun is part of it. But so is sleeping.

And practice. If this is what you want, you have to work hard at it.

And never give up."

Apollo nodded, pulling the blankets up to his chin.

"Never give up. Got it."

Ryan smiled at him, getting up and going to the door. But before he could leave the room, Apollo's soft voice made him pause.

"Do you really think I can do it, dad?"

Ryan stared at his son, taking in the serious tone of his words. It didn't belong in the voice of a nine year old. 

"I think that if you want it, you'll get it.

I have faith in you, Apollo."

Apollo's eyes were heavy. Even in the darkness of his bedroom, Ryan could tell. 

"Goodnight, Daddy. Guitar tomorrow."

His words were lilted by sleep, and he was asleep before Ryan had a chance to respond. He shut the door to the room, softly, pausing outside of it.

"Goodnight, son."

It was a huge idea. One that he wasn't sure would ever truly be possible. It was hard to excel at music, and even harder to be famous.

But Apollo sounded as sure as an adult would about his decision.

The only thing Ryan could do, was support it. Help him as much as he could.

After all, he had his mother's blood.

And he had the talent he needed for a singer already.

If anyone could make it happen, it was Apollo.

If he wanted to be a star, he would be.

Rain was.

And something told Ryan that nothing would stop her son from achieving it too.

--------------------------------

If I could be like that
I would give anything
Just to live one day
In those shoes.
If I could be like that, what would I do?
What would I do?