#fanfic:julie and the phantoms

[loufuckers]

when she talks (i hear the revolution)

And look, she isn't dumb, okay? She knows what she looks like, what with the small chest and broad shoulders, how she looks with her short hair she asked Alex to cut with his razor last summer after a fight with her mom, the men's flannels with baggy jeans. She's known since Andrew Williams from her 8th grade History class told their entire grade she was a dyke after he catched her looking at an old Playboy magazine behind the bleachers. She knows.

or

The one where Bobby and Reggie are lesbians and maybe Bobby should love herself a little bit more.

Read on AO3

for eris (@molinajulie) , who didn't ask for this but whom i love dearly. thanks for introducing me to this show and loving bobby as much as i do.

Bobbi's uncomfortable the moment she gets inside the club.

This isn't their usual scene and although it's not that different from the grimy, underground places Sunset Curve usually plays at, it's new enough that it has her constantly looking over her shoulder and jumping a little bit every time someone stands just a little too close.

After their last bassist, some dude named Austin who was just mediocre enough and a little too much of an asshole to Alex for anyone to truly care about him, had quit the band two weeks ago, Luke had insisted they do the club rounds, check what the L.A. music scene had to offer and hopefully snatch a new bassist for themselves before their next gig.

They've not been successful, so far. There's lots of talented bassists, this is L.A. after all, but they're either too enamored of their own bands to give their offer a chance, aren't into Sunset Curve's sound, or just straight up don't like the idea of being in a band with a woman. Bobbi doesn't care about men's comfort enough for her to be offended when they give her a once over with a frowned brow and ask Luke if he's sure that's the kind of band he wants to be part of, but when it's the girls who do it... Well that just hurts.

And look, she isn't dumb, okay? She knows what she looks like, what with the small chest and broad shoulders, how she looks with her short hair she asked Alex to cut with his razor last summer after a fight with her mom, the men's flannels with baggy jeans. She's known since Andrew Williams from her 8th grade History class told their entire grade she was a dyke after he catch her looking at an old Playboy magazine behind the bleachers. She knows.

It doesn't make it any better, knowing, when she has to pitch her voice a couple octaves higher that usual when talking to a girl she doesn't know yet so they don't get scared of her or think she's flirting with them. And it sure as fuck doesn't make it better when bassists would rather stay with their shitty, dead-end bands playing underground clubs and illegal parties than be in a band with someone like Bobbi. With Bobbi.

"Did you came here to listen to the music, or are you here just to sulk at the bar and look into your beer like it killed your children?"

And well, Bobbi must have been too busy with her self deprecation time to realize someone sat next to her at the bar and was now looking at her. Not just someone, either, but a girl. A pretty girl.

"I don't have children," she says before she can stop herself, and maybe this is why she's still single even tho it's 2020 and lesbian bars and dating apps are a thing that exist.

"That's good to know," the girl says, and gifts Bobbi a bright smile dressed in red lipstick. "Hi, I'm Reggie Molina"

"Bobbi Wilson," Bobbi says, and fucking extends her right arm for a handshake like a dumbass.

"Nice to meet you, Bobbi," the girl, Reggie, chuckles shaking her hand. "So? Are you here to see a particular band or did you just came here to be sad? 'Cause I gotta say, if it's the second one you chose a terrible place for it."

Reggie is giving a pointed look at the crowd to prove her point, and she's right, of course. Some band is playing a Pearl Jam cover and the audience looks sweaty and a little bit gross from dancing all together and jumping to the beat of the music. Bobbi can't quite make it out with the dark red light situation the club has going on but she's sure she sees Alex by the right side of the stage talking to someone.

"Uh, no, not really. I'm in a band and we're missing a bassist for our next gig. We're supposed to be looking for someone to play with us but everyone seems..." She doesn't finish her thought but Reggie shoots her a look like she knows what she means.

"What's your band's name?" Reggie asks, taking a sip of her drink.

And wow, maybe Bobbi should practice her people skills because she didn't even notice Reggie already had a drink or the way she looks so pretty holding the straw between her red lips. She also got pretty hands, from what she can see of them holding the tall glass of her drink. They look soft but not too delicate, and Bobbi is definitely not looking at how long and slender her fingers are, absolutely not, sir.

"Uh, Sunset Curve?" She's not sure why she phrases it like a question but she hopes that it's just distracting enough so Reggie doesn't realize she went quiet because she was looking at her hands.

"Oh, shit, are you serious? I fucking love your music," Reggie says with another one of her open smiles. And Bobbi isn't looking, but she can see how pretty Reggie looks when she smiles like that. She has one of those smiles that make her do everything she can to keep seeing it. "I saw you guys play this club over at Sunset Boulevard last month, I think, you guys killed it. My sister definitely has a crush on your frontman, bought your demo and all."

Bobbi kinda hates the sound of her own laugh but she can help but laugh at Reggie's words. Girls having crushes on Luke is such an usual occurrence that they now count on the fact that most of their audience at any given point it's made up of teenage girls and young women who are there to see Luke bounce around the stage with his arms at full display. It's cute, honestly, how Luke gets all flushed when Alex and Bobbi joke about how he ought to take his shirt off on stage to see if that helps selling more tickets to their shows only for him to go on a rant about how 'it's about the music, you dorks'.

"She'll be happy to know he's single, then," Bobbi says between laughs.

"Oh, is he now?"

If Bobbi's heart skips a beat or two at the edge of interest in Reggie's voice she hopes it doesn't show on her face. Of course Reggie is interested in Luke, why wouldn't she.

"Is your drummer, too? Single, I mean."

"Uh, yeah, Alex's single," Bobbi says, her disappointment bleeding through her voice just a little bit. "He's gay, thought. Alex, I mean."

"What about the rhythm guitarist?" Reggie asks again, her smile a little darker and just on the edge of flirtatious, and Bobbi is sure she's imagining the way her eyes seem to give her a once over. "Is she single?"

Bobbi takes a long second to reply, suddenly hyper aware of the way Reggie's blue—so, so fucking blue—eyes are looking directly at her, how her left hand is so close to where Bobbi's is, right next to her beer that's most likely gone warm by now. She's suddenly aware of how close they are, how Reggie must have been closing their distance while they've been talking because now she can feel her breath just inches away from her lips, can even taste the fruity taste of whatever cocktail she's drinking.

"Yeah, I'm single," Bobbi says. It's barely more than a whisper, but Reggie hears it all the same if the way she gives her another one of those lopsided smiles and moves even closer to Bobbi are any indication.

They're so, so close now that Bobbi would have to barely move at all to kiss her. Actually, their lips are so close that they might as well be kissing right now because Bobbi can feel the way they move against hers when she speaks again.

"And what's you guys' policy of dating other band members?"  

"Uh, well, Luke and Alex dated for a while a couple years ago before they decided they liked each other as friends better," she replies. She's pretty sure she must look stupid right now, all cross eyed with how close they are and how she keeps trying to look at Reggie's mouth and eyes at the same time. "Why?"

"Well, you said you guys are looking for a bassist and I would like to audition for the position, but there's this really hot guitarist on the band, too, and I don't think I could play with her if I don't get to kiss her, too."

And Bobbi's brain is so haywire by now that one thing she says to this is, "I haven't even heard you play."

Reggie's face moves back just a couple inches as she laughs at Bobbi's words but she's frowning at the distance anyway, so used to feeling Reggie's lips just barely against hers as they speak.

"Then I'll guess you'll have to stick around and watch," Reggie says with a wink and kisses Bobbi.

It's hardly a kiss, to be honest, just a little more than a touch of lips and it's over so fast Bobbi can't even react to it and kiss her back. It nonetheless stuns Bobbi enough that she stands sat at her bar stool even as Reggie gives her another wink and starts walking towards the stage where another band is starting to set up for their own set, too dumbfounded to go after her and still trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.