EPILOGUE #2
Mostly, he posted art videos and Voltage logs where he spent his time poking fun at his boyfriend and the rest of his friends.
His followers loved having access to the members like this, and one night, Reno had broken down with gratitude, sobbing that, for the first time in his life, he felt like a human being in the eyes of his fans.
The proof was in the pile of gifts at the front of the stage, and the way Reno bent down with his guitar pushed to his side and tried to brush hands with the people at the front. They loved him, adored him, and Reno loved them all back just as much, if not more.
Arnaud ripped open the stage with a scream, and Voltage took off. Even after spending the last year getting to know the band personally, watching Voltage perform live was still one of Luka’s favorite activities. It seemed like every time he got to watch, they improved.
The magic of hearing the songs that kept him going, the lyrics that touched him and millions of others, the music that bound him and Reno together, never faded away.
Luka loved this music almost as much as he loved the person who wrote it, and he’d always be grateful that he’d been lucky enough to not just listen to it, but also thank Reno for making it real.
It took Luka three months after he moved to finally find the courage and the right words to tell Reno how his music had kept Luka alive during the hardest points of his life.
Reno, in response, broke the band’s hiatus and started writing again the very next day.
Maybe Cane was right and Luka needed to be in the crowd more often.
He liked watching from the wings when he could.
Sometimes he’d lie on the ground, just out of sight of the audience, and feel the music push through the stage floor and through his back, and when Reno came off stage, sweaty and flushed, he’d pull Reno down with him to praise and kiss until Reno was red for a brand new reason.
But he loved this too. He’d almost forgotten the energy of being with the crowd, of hearing them singing along with Arnaud, every word memorized like it’d saved their lives too.
Reno tapped his hands together, just like he had all that time ago, motioning for the pit to open up and Luka launched himself up onto the barricade, his back to the stage to watch as people crashed into each other during the breakdown.
It was fun. Reno had brought fun into his life the way no one else ever had.
And, the more time they spent together, the easier it was for Luka to let go and join in.
He’d even started in with Arnaud, getting too drunk sometimes and play-wrestling, the way he said he liked to do.
Luka didn’t worry about getting hurt anymore.
He was safe, with people who loved him and watched over him, and Reno would never so much as yell at him. He was sure of it.
Sebastian stepped up onto the platform, center stage with Arnaud, for a bass solo, and the crowd yelled for them together.
Arnaud’s hand tugged at Sebastian’s fluffy hair, and their legs slotted way too close to be casual before Jaewon joined in again, breaking Sebastian free from his solo.
Arnaud leaned back with a scream and Sebastian leapt down from the stand to slide into the next breakdown, acting like he didn’t just have his vocalist’s knee pressed between his legs moments before.
Luka wished he’d caught it on video to send to Angel and Amelia, knowing they were always thirsting for content of their partners flirting shamelessly on stage.
They had a group chat together now, but it was mainly Luka and Amelia who kept it active, having grown close after Luka officially moved to London.
Arnaud had been right about her having a lot of valuable insight into how to date someone who dealt with as much fame as the Voltage boys did.
One of the main reasons Luka wanted to go to France so badly during the upcoming tour was to get to hang out at Arnaud’s home and finally meet Amelia in person.
Angel, as sweet as they were, usually only appeared in the chat if Sebastian had done something funny or frustrating, or if Luka had sent off videos of the boys curled up too close on the studio couch again.
Luka didn’t blame them at all for wanting to see it and he fed directly into the nonsense. And, when he saw Arnaud join Reno on his side of the stage, he had his phone out in a hurry.
It was gay—and they were allowed to do it.
No one could stop them anymore and Luka was almost glad they hadn’t been allowed to flaunt it on stage this much when he had been younger.
He was sure he would have ended up much more strange than he already was if he’d spent the last decade of his life watching Reno and Arnaud practically make out on stage every show.
Someone else handed him another gift, and he quickly took a few photos and a video for Maria and August before putting his phone away, and signaling to the security guard to set the gift with the others.
August messaged back immediately and Luka couldn’t help thinking about the recent trip they’d taken to Missouri for August and Iris’ wedding.
At the end of the wedding reception, Iris had started playing some recordings from their most recent shows in front of Luka and Reno. She had been drunk as hell and outright asked if Reno and Arnaud had ever been a thing.
August had ushered her away, laughing and apologizing, saying it was time to drink some water together, but Luka had turned to Reno and opened his big mouth and didn’t regret saying:
“I still wanna see it, you know? You two.”
For Luka, it was a testament to how far he’d come. He’d spent so much time in so many relationships, treated like he was second best.
But he looked at Reno and knew with his entire being that Reno had chosen him over everything.
He’d picked Luka, over and over. He’d picked him at risk of his career, even.
Luka didn’t have a doubt in his mind that Reno would be faithful and honest with him about everything, so maybe it would be fun, instead of terrifying, to have someone else he trusted in bed.
And Luka watched Reno on stage now and knew, he knew, how much Reno loved this.
He loved Luka more.
“Thank you all! We are Voltage," Arnaud yelled over the mic after they’d been playing for a few hours, and Jaewon blasted them with double bass kicks. Arnaud raised his hand, and everyone calmed down with his command. The lights in the venue turned blue, and Reno tapped a pedal, making his guitar sound soft and sweet. “We’ve come so far for you, but we are home now. We love it here in London.”
People in the crowd cheered and Arnaud smiled, wide and true, before wiping his face dry with his shirt. Someone in the audience wolf-whistled at his exposed stomach, making him laugh, then flip the crowd a rude gesture.
He settled down, cleared his throat in the mic, and said, “You know we’ve been working on an album.
” He waited for the cheers to die down again.
“Thank you for waiting for us. I know we usually put one out every other year, but we are enjoying the freedoms we earned to make something really special for you. It is taking a while, but we have one for you tonight that we’ve never played before.
” Arnaud looked over at Reno and said, “Let’s do something new, okay? ”
Reno nodded at Arnaud, then took a slow step, followed by two more, until they were close. He leaned forward with his eyes downcast, a shy smile on his lips, and he spoke into the mic.
“I wrote this for you.” His eyes flickered up, searching the front of the crowd until he found Luka. “Yes, you.”
Luka’s heart went still when Reno lifted his guitar from his body and handed it to Arnaud. The crowd around him murmured until Arnaud put the mic on a stand, then started playing softly. The crowd erupted. No one outside of Arnaud’s close circle had seen him play guitar before.
“London is our home, and it’s because of the people who fill it. Those people come with us when we travel the world, in our hearts, sometimes in our hands," Arnaud said, leaning into the mic, playing an easy but soulful chord progression.
“We’ve been lucky this year to spend a lot of time with the people who feel like home.
We hope you have too.” Arnaud continued as the stage around him grew darker, “It wasn’t always this way, though—there was a time when I was lying on my floor alone and it was so lonely I couldn’t get up.
Everything felt so hopeless. I thought to myself, ‘yeah, okay. This is what depression feels like.’ I had that thought, then I got up and started looking for Voltage.
I needed purpose. I needed music. I needed the right people to make music with.
” He leaned away from the mic for a moment, looking down at his hands as he played, giving the crowd a moment to let his words sink in.
“And, you know? I’ve learned lately that some people think music can’t keep us alive.
But, I know," Arnaud shook his head and the face he made formed a lump in Luka’s throat, “I know, that when I pull myself off the floor, it's because of this. Singing for you. For me. For the people I call my home. It gives me reason to live, and it brings people I love the most in the world to me. It's brought us together and bound us, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. Thank you for being here. Thank you for being alive, with me.”
The spotlight on Arnaud shut off and the venue was cloaked in darkness as Arnaud let a chord linger.
When the light popped on, blinding them with its intensity, stood Reno.
He glowed on stage as he lifted the violin to rest under his chin and struck the first note.
The crowd was so quiet, Luka felt like they’d all disappeared. All that remained was Reno, his creased brows, his pink hair shining like a halo, with his heart on his sleeve as he played, and a diamond ring on his finger, flashing in the spotlight.
A note sustained in the air until Reno lifted the bow from the violin and the drums and bass slammed so hard right as the stage lights blared back to life—Luka felt like he’d be knocked from his feet.
The crowd went insane, screaming and headbanging to the drums, and Reno smiled at Arnaud, who handled Reno’s guitar like it was nothing.
He leaned forward as Reno put the bow back to his instrument and Arnaud sang along with it like they were always meant to be together.
"Last night, I came from the soil, it had been snowing.
While it snowed, you and me, we stayed together,
we’ve been laying
And as we slept in our warmth as a tether,
we’ve still been falling
But my wings are made from glass
My sins scattered around me, I’m crawling
I can't see them from the dying grass
Up and towards a distant past
Le vent emporte mon passé
Ne pars pas - ne pars pas
We can stay in our hiding place
Take my hand despite my disgrace
De quel monde pour te protéger
c'est tout ce que je veux
It’s all I want for you
One day, I’ll meet you in the sun and you’ll set off running
There I’ll watch, small and strong, we’ll run together,
We’ve been trying
As we brace against the stormy weather,
We’re still falling (falling)
Jimen kara watashi o tōzakete kudasai—
Hane ga oreru kamo shirenai.
Demo, boku wa sarimasen.
Ne pars pas - ne pars pas
We can stay in our hiding place
Take my hand despite my disgrace
De quel monde pour te protéger
C’est tout ce que je veux
It’s all I want for you
Demo, boku wa sarimasen
Demo—
We’re still falling (falling)
We’re still falling (falling)
We’re still falling."
With a final yell that felt more like a cry than a song, Arnaud bowed his head, moving away from the mic to play the guitar, and Reno, right next to him, played just as fiercely on the violin.
Reno finished before Arnaud, letting the melody taper off beautifully and, as Arnaud played the final chords, Reno pressed his forehead to Arnaud’s.
He grabbed him by the face with his left hand and placed a soft kiss on Arnaud’s forehead.
He said something to him, drowned out by the sound of yells, applause, and stomping.
Arnaud nodded, took Reno’s violin and bow from him, then watched as Reno went to the edge of the stage, saw the pile of gifts there and broke out laughing.
He made a heart with his hands and then pointed to the audience, mouthing ‘Thank you’ before smiling down at the gifts again.
Reno avoided his presents as he hopped down off the stage and before Luka could process what was happening, Reno was over the barricade and falling into his arms.
Reno ignored the yells of the security guards and the cheers and whoops of fans around them to wrap his arms around Luka and pull him in tight.
He squeezed him for what felt like an eternity then peeled back, sweat slick and smiling bigger than Luka had ever seen him, and then grabbed Luka’s hand with both of his.
Luka felt something small and hard press into his palm, and when he looked down, a pink and white ring that matched the one Reno wore, glittered in the venue lights.
Then, nothing existed but Reno asking, “What will you give me?”
Luka kissed him, in front of the crowd, in front of the people he loved, in front of the world, and answered.
“Everything. Always.”