Chapter Text
When the members of Jane and the Ravens were asked who Jane was, given their status as an all-male band, they had varying responses:
Noah Czerny, drummer, laughed and remarked "I don’t know! Sounds cool though, right?"
Adam Parrish, bassist, simply responded with a shrug and a "Don’t think she really exists, sorry."
Ronan Lynch, guitarist, told them "I don’t care. Ask me about the fucking music."
However, when Richard Campbell Gansey III, lead singer, was asked, he leaned in and smiled, as if he was sharing a secret that you were lucky to be let in on. "She’s an idea. A flurry. And we’re the ravens that follow."
That was, of course, before he met Blue Sargent. Solo Act. Thunderstorm of a singer. Also, ex-girlfriend of his bassist and best friend.
And now, the biggest feature on their upcoming album.
Gansey was certain that the storm of Blue Sargent was going to be the death of him. But that he would still follow her voice to the ends of the earth.
They were in a business meeting. For being in a band, it really did feel like they spent more time surrounded by suits and charts than amps and mics.
Gansey was really, truly trying to listen to what Mr. Gray, their manager was telling them, but his mind kept wandering to anything else. Henrietta. His mother’s campaign. The lyrics for that damn melody that Ronan wrote that he just couldn’t think of.
“So for your next album,” Gray continued. Gansey shot a look to where Adam and Ronan were similarly drifting off on the bright orange couch they shared. However, what Gray said next certainly woke them up. “We want to bring in a collaborative artist for a couple of songs.”
“Hold on. No fucking way.” Ronan interjected, shifting from where he had leaned on the arm of the couch. “I won’t work with another person. Dick is already picky enough. We’re good enough on our own.”
“You are good, and we wouldn’t bring anyone on who we wouldn’t think would work well. But it’d bring you a lot more publicity. You need to learn how to work with others some time, it’s album number 3. You’re not kids anymore.”
Gansey really wanted to tell him that they were still kids, really. They were only 21, discovered in their freshman year at University of Virginia. Well, his and Adam’s, Noah and Ronan’s first perpetual gap year. Their first album, Glendowerwas produced in the Czerny garage when they were fooling around and realized this could actually be something. Their second album, Greywaren was produced with a little more fanfare when they finally were recognized.
All they had for this album were arguments that stretched far into the night that were dosed with bureaucracy from their agency.
“We have already contacted a talent.” Gray admitted. Adam and Gansey shared a look from across the fluorescently light room. Clearly, this wasn’t up for discussion,
“Without telling us, Gray?” He felt a little hurt. Even against his better judgment, Gansey trusted Gray. He was honest, unlike a lot of the other vultures that approached them after their first album. He had been with them through all of it.
“We thought she’d be a perfect fit for the sound. And, best of all, she’s from Henrietta. It’d be perfect if you want to tie it back to your shared hometown—”
“Oh.” Adam said suddenly, his voice growing cold. “It’s not who I think it is, right?”
“Another singer from Henrietta, really?” Noah chirped in.
“Yes. Blue Sargent.” The name rang a bell for Gansey. He had definitely heard a song or two from her. Ribs came to mind. But he never knew she was from Henrietta! Clearly, the name strung more of a reaction from Adam, as he finally lifted his head from where it had slowly lowered.
“Blue’s my ex.” Adam admitted, clearly avoiding eye contact from the rest of them. “We dated for a year in high school. Before I moved to Aglionby for senior year.”
“Oh… Well, did it end well?” Gansey dared to ask. Judging from Adam’s faraway look, Gansey figured he already had the answer.
Adam sighed. “No. We were just friends for a really long time, and I was close with her family. Her aunt was the one who taught me guitar, and they all helped me after my parents…” He was silent for a second. The rest of the band knew what happened, he didn’t need to fill in the gaps, especially for the filter of suits in the room. “We started dating and it got really serious, but I got really distant with everything, and she broke up with me once I moved to Aglionby.”
“Jesus-Mary, Adam.” Ronan interjected.
It was suddenly sounding a little familiar, lyrics now coming back to his head.
“Adam…” Gansey trailed off. “Does she have any songs about you? Her whole album?” He didn’t answer.
“Oh fucking hell, you have a goddamn album written about you and you didn’t say anything?” Ronan said, the hurt in his voice stinging into anger.
“It was before I even met any of you. I don’t know what’s about me, she wrote it most of it after we broke up though and then she moved out of Henrietta. It wasn’t anything mean or unfair, just typical musician stuff.” Adam looked towards Gray. “Does she know that I’m in the band?”
“I didn’t talk to her. Only her manager, Henry, who didn’t mention any issues.”
“She has quite a different sound then us though, from what I’ve heard.” Gansey asked. The concept of what genre Jane & the Ravens was debatable, with their eclectic group, it ranged from folk to EDM (and that was just Ronan), but it somehow worked. He supposed if they made it work with the four of them, that adding another opinion for a couple songs wouldn’t be too bad.
Mr. Gray shrugged. “That’s for you musicians to discuss. Henry mentioned Blue wanting to expand her sound more, perform with a full band. But if it’ll make you uncomfortable Adam…”
Adam sighed. “Look, I’m sure if Blue signed off on it, it won’t be too bad. It’s been long enough.”
“HENRY! The bassist is my ex! He’s literally the whole inspiration for Mirrors. Do you know how embarrassing it is that I asked to be on his album?” Blue Sargent sat on her hotel bed in L.A on the phone with her agent. She cursed herself for being convinced to get a manager, instead of using her family. Henry Cheng wasn’t too bad, really, more like a friend, but it was hard to appreciate him when he did stuff like this.
“I’m so sorry, Indigo! He is pretty cute though, good job.”
“I don’t care if you think he’s cute!” She hissed. “It’s so fucking awkward! When I found out he was in Jane & the Ravens I was worried I’d run into him at events. Now we’re doing a song together!”
“Three songs actually… It’ll be great publicity though; people have been wondering who your songs are about.” Blue laid back on the too-plush bed, her hairpins digging into her scalp from the impact, but she didn’t bother removing them.
“They are not all about him!” Blue was resolved to not write all of her songs about romantic love, or men. She wrote about all sorts of things: her family, moving away from Henrietta and dealing with her fame, the lives she had not yet lived, the characters that existed in her head.
But a lot of them were about Adam, especially her first album, Mirror. He was her best friend, they learned music with Persephone together. She had broken up with him, but he had stepped away first. With his father, the court case. his move to Agliony, the looming move to wherever Ivy League he would find himself in, he became more and more distant, even when he told her he loved her. They had grown up, and grown apart.
It was one of the hardest decisions she’d ever made, and the funny part was they both ended up in the same damn industry. She had even moved from Henrietta first, when her first single quickly blew up. Then she heard of Jane & the Ravens popping up at the University of Virginia. She vaguely knew they both were in D.C now, but it was a big city. They probably could’ve avoided each other for the rest of their lives.
“Look Indigo, I know it’s been a lot, figuring out this whole fame thing on your own.” She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the emptiness of the sterile hotel, instead imagining her room in Fox Way and the fuzziness of her fairy lights glimmering. She had moved to Washington too young, before her roots had really formed. “You’ve been wanting to collab more, work with a band, and hey! If you can learn to work in a band with your ex, you can work with anyone.”
It’s not as if Blue didn’t want to see Adam. It had been over four years since she catched more than a glimpse of him, even with how small Henrietta was. It was that he certainly didn’t want to see her, which was made clear when he didn’t even bother coming to Persephone’s funeral after they broke up. That had hurt more than the break-up had.
“Look….” She trailed off. “I’ll do the songs with them… But we aren’t doing them here. I want to write them in Henrietta at Dittley’s.” Her time at Jesse’s studio had gotten her through her breakup with Adam. Recording Mirrors there was one of the best times she had creatively. She hadn’t felt that way in a long time, not with this big city bullshit.
If she had to do these goddamn songs with the Raven’s, she would do it her own way.
“On it, Indigo.” Henry’s ever exuberant voice rang through the phone. He was a bastard. She still did love him, though.
It took Noah and Gansey five minutes in their apartment to look up Blue.
Ronan was off simmering somewhere, and Adam had left as soon as they drove from the meeting, citing some assignment he had to work on.
It was a miracle he managed classes here with how busy they were, but he was resolved to finish his degree. As soon as Glendower had released, Gansey had dropped our. His schooling felt like a distraction, and he could still pursue his history endeavours wedged in between tours.
As the two crowded on the couch around Gansey’s laptop, he quickly searched for a video of Blue performing. He had heard of Ribs on the radio, remembered some of the lyrics too, so he played a live recording of that one first.
Blue Sargent was short, the mic stands clearly at its lowest level, but her presence seemed to take up the entire stage. It wasn’t a particularly big venue, nothing the Raven’s hadn’t played before, but it did seem a little lonely, being all alone up there. She was wearing a dark blue dress that had clashing patterns that somehow worked for her. The video zoomed up close, and Gansey saw one of the most beautiful faces he had ever seen. She had dark, wild hair that was pinned up in a bun, but curls were falling, framing her face. She blinked up at the crowd, grinning with squinted eyes.
“Hey there, Washington!” She had that Virginian twang that he heard less and less from Adam, but made him incredibly homesick. The crowd cheered in response. She carefully swung the mic cord, dangling it around her finger. “You know, I just turned 19. I know right, so old! I’ve always been stuck, I guess, between wanting to capture what it’s like being young or just living in the moment. To risk it all on love, or stay where it’s safe.”
Her voice grew a little more serious, and Gansey thought back to what Adam had said, that Blue had been her best friend. It felt a little unreal that Adam had known this fearless, solitary creature.
“I wish I could tell you I had the answers” She laughed a little, “but this was a little song I wrote about it, called Ribs.”
She began to sing, and Gansey was entranced. Her singing voice was lower and more gravely than her speaking voice, but it hit him to the core. She closed her eyes as she grabbed the mic, seemingly stuck in the song. He hadn’t realized they reached the climax of the song until he heard the repeating lyrics, and the raw emotion on Blue’s face.
You’re the only friend I need
Sharing our beds like little kids
Laughing till our ribs get tired
But that’ll never be enough
The music was fading out, and the camera focused on Blue’s face as she took in the crowd. She was looking intently, but there was something sad about her.
“She’s really something.” Noah remarked.
“Yeah, she is pretty good.”
“Oo, let’s watch that one!” He quickly clicked on a video before Gansey could protest.
There was no talking before this one, only that same smile that lit something in Gansey. She was wearing bright clips in her hair that shimmered from where she sat on a stool, an acoustic guitar in hand. She was wearing a pair of dark jeans, and a navy flowy top that was decorated with gold stars, that matched some of the clips in her hair. The sound was different than Ribs, quieter. The lyrics invoked something in him, he could feel Henrietta in them.
You say nobody loves a city; nobody loves what can’t love ‘em back.
One way ticket in your pocket, what happened to the charm of a small town?
If you find what you’re looking for, be sure to send a postcard
You promised you wouldn’t forget, the little ones when you got big
She smiled as the outro finished and grabbed the mic and brought it even closer. “As always, I dedicate my songs to Persephone. Thanks for always believing in me, even when I used to steal your guitar pics and ramble on and on about Fleetwood Mac and Fiona Apple.” The video ended, and Gansey quickly shut his computer, anxiety filling his chest as he realized he would write with this formidable girl.
“Do you think it’ll be okay to record with her? I don’t want it to be too hard for Adam.” Noah scooted off the couch and went to grab his water, having to sidestep over his drum set. It was a lot, living all together and having their instruments here, but it felt living, breathing. It was everything he cared about.
“I’m not really sure, Noah.” Gansey admitted. Adam had seemed upset at first, but had quickly internalized it in his slightly unhealthy coping mechanisms. Ronan, though, still seemed pissed for whatever reason.
Gansey was a bit confused on why Blue would ever accept a collaboration with them if her and Adam were on such bad terms, but he supposed he didn’t even understand why they would break up in the first place. “I think they’ll just need to talk it out. But we’ll make sure it isn’t incredibly awkward."
"Gansey. It's Adam Parrish, king of detatchment and avoidance. Of course being contronted with his ex-girlfrind is going to be awkward."
“She wants us to record in Henrietta?” Gansey clarified again. “Is there even a studio there?” They were in a meeting with Gray, thankfully at their apartment this time. Ronan was pacing, Adam was unnervingly still at his desk, while Noah and Gansey orbited.
“There’s a small one, where she recorded some of her first album, Jesse Dittley. Used to be big in the 70s, apparently.” Gray supplied.
“Doesn’t Blue live here in Washington? Why go all the way back there!” Noah lamented. Frankly, the idea of going back to Henrietta appealed greatly to Gansey. He missed it there; Washington was too big.
“Her family still lives there.” Adam added quietly, Ronan stopped his pacing for a moment, and raised an eyebrow at Adam.
“Well I guess if her family lives there, we should fucking all move back permanently!”
“Jesus, Lynch. Why would you be mad at going back? You could stay at the Barns, and see Declan and Matthew.” Adam added.
“I’m not saying I don’t want to; I just think it’s a fucking stupid idea.”
Gansey carefully chose to ignore that obvious hypocrisy and simply opt for: “I think we should. I still own Monmouth, Adam and Noah can stay with me—”
“Parrish can stay with me. You still have the weird fucking bed in the middle thing.” Adam shrugged at Ronan’s interjection, silently agreeing. Suddenly it made sense: Ronan was trying to give Adam an easy way out from seeing his parents in Henrietta. Adam, surprisingly ignored the obvious excuse and shrugged. It warmed his heart, seeing his friends not at each other’s throats.
“Well, if that’s settled, you can fly out next week, and touch base with Blue there. Her manager’s coming as well, later, but I’m busy with another client, so make sure to be on your best behavior—”
“Gray, who are we ever not on our best behaviour?" Ronan asked, grinning his own viscous smile. Mr. Gray didn't bother with a response, instead shaking his head as he exits the apartment.
“Are we sure this is the right place?” Gansey asked as he ducked to enter through the shoddy door. It was, essentially a hoarder’s paradise. But then Gansey wondered if a hoarder’s paradise be free from material possessions and heal them? It was the type of useless question Adam loved to ponder then answer succinctly, but he did seem quite occupied.
“What. The Fuck. Is. This.” Ronan over-enunciated each word. As they all gathered into the waiting area of Jesse Dittley’s studio, he felt a rush of anxiety. He would be meeting Blue Sargent, and even with his status, he felt a little nervous as a songwriter. He was impressed, to say the least, with the emotion that Blue was able to bring. Him and Adam were so guarded with lyrics, Ronan and Noah, on the other hand were able to be perfectly vulnerable.
‘WE’RE DOWN HERE!” A booming voice suddenly interrupted whatever placating remark Gansey was going to make. They were, he assumed, downstairs.
“Where even are the stairs?” Adam murmured as they stumbled around the over-crowded entrance.
“Here it is!” Noah exclaimed as he opened a creaking door to a thankfully, better decorated and cleaner stairway. He exchanged a look with Adam as they made their descent. This was going to be interesting.
When Noah moved out of the way, Gansey took in the full set-up of the studio. It was surprisingly well kept, given the disastrous and creaky entrance. There was a nice-looking drum set and a set of guitars and basses, although Ronan and Adam opted to bring their own. To the left, there was a small recording booth, and a little further down there was an area with couches. That was where Blue Sargent, and presumably, Jesse Dittley sat.
Blue looked even shorter compared to the tree that was Jesse, but everything else he noticed in the video seemed more in person. She had her hair down today, although still with a couple of loose hairpins. She had a couple of curls that framed her face. Unfortunately, that face he was very happy to continue to stare at did not look pleased at their arrival, and her dark plum coloured lips quickly turned to a terse look.
Before even addressing them, she sat up and looked to Jesse. “Jesse, would you like me to lock up today? We’re probably just going to be writing and messing around today, no recording.”
“FOR SURE, LITTLE ANT. NICE TO HAVE YOU BACK.” He awkwardly patted her leg, and quickly addressed them. “I LIKE YOUR MUSIC.” Before Gansey could respond, the first responder of their band to any praise or criticism, he added. “I LIKE HERS BETTER THOUGH. DON’T MESS IT UP”
He walked up the stairs, and suddenly they were left alone. They all stood awkwardly, holding the equipment they brought. Blue gestured to an empty space beside the couches.
“You can put your stuff here.” Once they were situated, she sighed. “Well, I’m Blue Sargent, as I’m sure you already know.” She very clearly did not look at Adam.
“Hi Blue, nice to meet you.” Gansey offered a hand but she only stared. “I’m Gansey, this is Ronan, our lead guitarist, and Noah, our drummer, and—”
“Hi, Blue.” Adam said quietly. Finally, her gaze shifted to him. He could see the hurt, even from here. It was unabashed.
“Hi, Adam.” She took an awkward pause. “My mom and Calla say hello as well. They wanted you to come and visit.”
“Yeah, I’d like to do that. Thanks.” At least they were being civil, but it certainly didn’t feel like the environment you could write a song in.
“So!” Gansey interjected as he clapped his hands together. “How should we do this?”
Blue shrugged, “Not sure, honestly. I’ve only ever written alone, not usually with this much fanfare.”
“Is that why you wanted to collab?” Gansey asked.
“My manager set it up without me knowing.” She paused, “I mean, I do like your guy’s music, but I definitely wouldn’t have reached out for a collaboration myself, given everything.”
That made more sense at least, but it didn’t do anything to release the rising tension of the room.
“Jesus, we’re in the music industry. You’re gonna have to work with someone you fucked someday.” Ronan added, which made the rest of the band member’s wince. Blue slid him a murderous look.
“Well maybe that’s how things work for The Raven’s. Not me.” Blue crossed her arms. “Anyways, I don’t care. Let’s get this over with.”
Definitely not the best way to start a collaboration. Gansey thought.
“Look, we have this melody that Ronan and I were playing with, and we wrote some lyrics. Do you want to hear it?” He gave her his best PR smile that had charmed pretty much everyone in the industry. It was Jane & the Ravens secret weapon, they often joked. She met his smile with a glare, maybe her signature look as well.
“Sure, good place to start, I guess.” Blue gestured to the couch for Adam and Noah to sit. Noah sat right next to Blue, and Adam followed beside him, albeit with a notable distance.
Jesus, Gansey thought. This felt a lot more vulnerable with a near-stranger watching, rather than just his friends. Ronan zipped open his guitar case, effortlessly taking his guitar and balancing it on his near where it was perched on the stool.
He gave a stoic nod to Gansey, and began to strum. Gansey took a deep breath, and began to sing.
We’re never done with killing time.
Can I kill it with you
Till the veins run red and blue?
We come around here all the time
Got a lot to not do, let me kill it with you.
You pick me up and take me home again
Head out the window again
We’re hollow like the bottles that we drank
You drape your wrists over the steering wheel
Pulses can drive from here
We might be hollow, but we care
Both him and Ronan had come up with the lyrics, bouncing off each other in the late hours of the night,. They both had agreed to never talk about who their songs were about, but it was clear they wrote about each other and the other members of the band just as much as they wrote about romantic interests. Not like they were that experienced in that department, spending more time in business meetings than house parties.
As they got to the part they hadn’t yet finished the lyrics, he began to hum, slightly closing his eyes so he didn’t have to see the reactions from his bandmates.
Surprisingly, he heard another voice join in his humming. Blue was quiet, but she leaned in a little, adding so much to such little sound.
Ronan suddenly stopped strumming, and threw his guitar onto the couch. Adam winced at the carelessness.
“It should be ‘but we’re brave’” Blue interjected.
“Pardon?"
“It should be ‘we might be hollow, but we’re brave.” At the Raven’s surprised stares back, Blue continued: “It’s more interesting that way.”
“Really? I can’t say I understand the change.” Gansey responded back before he could think twice. Ronan was right: He was picky about lyrics. They were his contribution. He couldn’t play like the rest of them, and although they all helped with song writing, but it was a necessity for Gansey. If he didn’t write his feelings into songs, they would never get out.
He was intrigued by Blue Sargent though, and her ability to judge and suggest something so quickly.
“Look, you don’t get to hear one section of our song, then get to change the lyrics—” Ronan interjected.
“I’m sorry, I thought this was a collaboration! If you all aren’t going to listen to my input there really isn’t any point, is there?”
“I like the change!” Noah interjected from where he sat, stopping his mindless drumming of his fingers on the fraying couch. “Can’t say I understand it fully, but it’s more interesting. It’s not just like a normal love song; It won’t give anything away at first.”
Frankly, Gansey had not thought about that at all. The song was still a mess of ideas in his and Ronan’s head. A song about longing, their seemingly perpetual adolescence, his bonds with the people he loved, his car, and Henrietta. Braveness certainly was a way to frame it. They all had been incredibly brave to get to where they were today.
“Exactly.” Blue didn’t bother to hide her smile. “Look, if you’re going to be that picky with pre-existing lyrics, then we can make something new together. But I’m not the add on that you’re getting for views. If we are making songs together, then let’s make songs.” She met each of their eyes.
Noah smiled and nodded, reaching out his fist to meet Blue’s which she returned.
“You’re right.” Adam added after a pause, nodding at Blue, the tension between them a little looser, although still apparent.
“I’m sorry, you’re right, Blue. I don’t mean to diminish your work, it’s just hard to work with such a strong voice.” Gansey said.
“Yeah, well my strong voice is what I’m known for. Not going to stop for the private, rich school boys.”
“Well, maybe then help us come up with lyrics for this melody then. Dick’s been trying all week.” Ronan finally said, picking up his guitar again. It was as close as they would get for his approval of Blue’s comment, so Gansey hope she took it as a win.
"Fine then, let's hear it." Blue motioned for Ronan to start and quickly began to hum along and work out the pieces of the melody as he began to strum.
It felt magical, seeing the process that led to the songs him and Noah heard, combined with Ronan's unwavering talent. Adam quietly zipped open his case, pulling out his bass, and joined in. Blue looked over and gave a small smile as he began to play, fleshing out the song even further.
This was magic. This was the point. And with Blue humming beside them, it was starting to feeling a little more real