Prologue
“Your mail’s there Potter!” Marc yells at James as he enters their shared flat after a rather long day. It was mostly training, which is synonym to torture in Manchester United Youth team, but James thinks that he’s managing pretty well, for a nineteen-year-old footballer who played for his school team only a year ago. How fast things change. That’ll never cease to amaze James Potter.
“Cheers mate.” He shouts back to his roommate and grabs the three letters sitting on the counter. Their flat is not amazing in any sense of the term, which is usually to be expected in a flat share with five dudes in their twenties, or almost in James’ case. There’s only a couch and a TV in the living room, a couch that is occupied by Alexander, a grumbling baker who wakes them all every morning – or night, if you’re someone with common sense – at three in the morning to go to work. There are three bedrooms, occupied by Marc, the guy with the letter, a blonde guy that has people calling him ‘Tosser’, though James doesn’t know what his real name is, and finally James’ room, that he has to share with a tall black man also named James.
So, for the past year, James has had to share a nine meter square bedroom with another dude who does not see the utility in cleaning out his space, and he hasn’t heard anyone call him by his first name in real life since he last saw his friends.
It was almost a month ago, on the first of May, when Dorcas and Marlene flew in from Greece to see them, and they had a big gathering at Sirius and Remus’ flat in Cambridge. Everyone came, even Lily, Mary and Regulus came from Paris to see the girls, and James couldn’t be happier. They’d reminisced the World Wide Experience Tour, like they did every time they saw each other, had played board games and danced together until their feet hurt. Mary had kissed Dorcas on a dare, Marlene was given a massage by Pandora and Remus was forced to let Sirius do the cooking for the following week. And sure enough, they received pictures of a disgusted Remus eating questionable food for a week after that.
If James is honest, it was the happiest he’d felt in a long time. And the happiest he’s felt in a while.
Sure, he loves his life: football is his everything, and having the chance to make it his job is everything he ever dreamed of. But, well.
His teammates are all sexist assholes, his roommates are mean and way too laddish for James’ taste and he misses seeing his friends on the regular. He misses the person he was a year ago: it was June, so he would have been in the USA right now, kissing Lily for the first time and discovering what love felt like. Like, real love. Other than that, James had been in love with everything and everyone since as far as he can remember. But, well. Now, James was an adult in Manchester, playing football for a few hours and was alone for the rest of the day, with many busy friends he couldn’t even call.
Now, James hates feeling sorry for himself, simply because so many people wouldn’t have the chance to have a roof over their head, or be able to live out of their passion. So, he bundles up his gloomy thoughts and pushes them to the back of his head and gets to opening his mail.
The first letter is something to do with his medical insurance, another boring adult thing he has to bother with now. The second letter is his pay check from Manchester United, which makes him smile a bit; it’s the fifth of the month, just like he had planned. It always feels rather gratifying to see his work pay out like that, to know that he hasn’t been waking up at seven every morning for nothing.
The third letter is the answer to his every problem. Written in black on white paper, is a proposition to join Paris-Saint-Germain’s team, if Manchester United Youth team is okay with selling him in the 2025 summer Mercato.
Not the PSG’s youth team. Paris-Saint-Germain.
This means he’d be playing alongside Dembélé, Ruiz and Tape.
James Potter, scorer in the PSG. Fuck it if it’s not James’ every dream and more.
He feels real a few seconds later, when his hands start to shake and his lets out a shaky breath. He can’t believe it. The PSG want him. Him. Like, one of the greatest teams in Europe want him. How is that even possible?
Without even thinking, he calls his trainer, and tells him about the letter. His voice is shaking, he can hear it, but nothing makes sense to him at that moment. He wouldn’t have ever dared hope that a club of this presence would ever want him. James swears it, life just keeps surprising him again and again.
He gets off his phone call having registered only a few words: transfer, call and million, and truly, James had forgotten that players were paid millions to transfer from one club to another. No, James was truly planning on packing his suitcase and hopping on a world class flight to Paris, paid for with his own economies and playing for free. Like, it’s the PSG. He should be the one paying to play with them, not the other way around. Life is crazy.
Once the shock has surpassed him, he remembers that his trainer asked him to come to the stadium on the phone to discuss the transfer. He almost hadn’t recalled, which would have unfortunate. What if him missing one meeting cost him his place at the PSG?
He all but runs to Old Trafford, which isn’t far from his flat, and when he leaves his meeting an hour later, he thinks only one thing;
Will the PSG finally win the Champions’ League with him in their team?
_______________________________________
It’s six thirty when he finally gets out of the train in Cambridge’s train station a few days later. He debated with himself between telling his friends he was visiting, but decided against it in the end. What other thing to do but surprise his best friends with one of the greatest news of his life? Truly, he doesn’t know what could surpass this. Even the day Minnie told him that he and his friends were going to spend six months visiting the entire world doesn’t surpass this one: learning that he is about to play for the PSG is truly everything he ever dreamed of.
Okay, so maybe James is mostly a FC Barcelona fan, but there’s only so much one can get. The PSG is the next best thing.
Especially with the people there.
It’s something he hasn’t allowed himself to think about much in the last few days. Sure, he’ll be seeing Lily and Mary more regularly, which is absolutely amazing, but living in Paris also means living in proximity to one Regulus Black again. But really, James can’t allow himself to think about it again, or he will be forced to admit that almost nine months of zero contact weren’t enough for him to get over Regulus. He’s not ready to admit what a big lovesick loser he is yet.
It takes him fifteen minutes to get to Sirius and Remus’ flat, and manages to slip in the building as an old woman gets out. When he gets to their front door, and to the ‘Welcome’ mat Hope gifted for them during their housewarming party back in December, once they were well settled in, he knocks two times and finds himself standing in front of a apron-lad Remus with a wooden spoon in hand. Oh how he missed his friends.
“Hey mate!” James grins at Remus’ shocked stare, who shakes it off quickly.
“Oh shit, dude I thought you were Sirius!” Remus grins and brings James in a quick hug. “What are you doing here?” he asks with a smile, in his own Remus fashion that feels both homey and warm. James knows he’d made a great dad one day. He’s just a calming presence like that.
“Just wanted to see you guys.” James smiles, “Is Sirius not home?” he asks as Remus walks back into his kitchen, where a pot of tomato sauce is cooking, as far as James can see.
“Nah, he’s finishing up on a tattoo. He should be home soon though.” Remus says and stirs the pot, “Make yourself at home, mi casa y su casa and all the bullshit.” He says with a smile.
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” James nods and looks around at the flat. It looks so much like both Sirius and Remus, anyone who knows them would imagine a space like that for them. The living room is rather spacious, with a green sofa and a smaller matching single couch, a dark wooden table in the middle and tall bookshelves lining the walls. There is no TV, though James knows they have one in their bedroom. It’s refreshing, he thinks, to see a flat with no TV. Instead, there’s a record player, with a huge speaker underneath and a large stack of vinyl records. Currently, one of Remus’ bluesy rock albums from the sixties is playing, one that James couldn’t name for the life of him, and the grey curtains lining the windows are drawn back, letting the early summer evening sun inside the apartment. Countless plants and flowers are scattered everywhere, evidently Remus’ work – Sirius was banned from touching Remus and Peter’s plants back in Hogwin, who was capable of killing them from a single touch – which add character and light to the place. In all, their flat screams Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, and like their owners, James loves it.
But, well James loves everything, so it isn’t saying much.
“What’s up with you then?” James asks with all the restraint he has. It’s killing him not to blurt out his news like that, but he doesn’t want Sirius to be the second person to know. He wants both of his bestest friends in the world to know at the same time.
“Uh, not much.” Remus chuckles, “Mate, you’re basically tweaking back there.” He calls out, “What’s going on?”
James groans, “I’m that obvious?” he asks, “No, I want to wait for Sirius though.” He repeats, mostly to himself. He can hear himself say it already, ‘I got a letter from the PSG, I’m going to be playing with them! And I learned that I’m worth 4.3 million euros, which is fucking huge and crazy to me!’ but he keeps quiet. Sirius and Remus are both going to know at the same time, because it is how it is amongst marauders. They’re together in things, or none of them do it.
A voice, in the back of his head, reminds him that there used to be a fourth marauder, not longer than a year ago. He wants to push it to the back of his mind, but Remus is right there, and he’d take anything to distract himself from spewing his secrets all over the place. He’s just so damn excited, that keeping it in proves to be hard.
“Does it bother you sometimes that Peter isn’t around anymore?” James asks Remus, who is now putting turmeric onto his tomato sauce.
Remus glances back at him, “If your surprise is that Pete is hiding back into some bushes downstairs, I’m pretty sure it won’t go so well with Sirius.” He says, “Or with me for that matter.”
“Yeah, no, I know. It’s not my surprise.” He chuckles, “Was just thinking about how he used to be there for big moments like that. Now he doesn’t even text me for my birthday.” James sighs and leans against the counter. It’s true; on the 27th of March, James didn’t get any sort of message from his oldest friend. Well, actually, he didn’t receive any message from Peter since the ‘Thank you’ on his own birthday back in December. You know, a birthday that James did remember.
“Yeah, I know.” Remus sighs, “But there’s really only so much we can do. And I’m not about to go running after him, begging to be friends again.” He teases, and James chuckles.
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He sighs too, “I guess I’m just being nostalgic of it all.”
Remus smirks and dumps a bag of pasta onto the boiling water, “How big is your surprise, exactly?” he asks, “I’ve seen you excited, but this is a whole other level.” He points to James, and he guesses that his huge smile that won’t leave, even while talking about their long lost friend, and his feet moving along to the music betray his nonchalant-ism. Good thing James never learned to dumb down his happiness.
“I’m so excited, you have no idea.” James chuckles, “It’s everything I’ve been wanting and more.”
“Did you finally become best friends with Bellingham?” Remus raises an eyebrow in mockery, “Because Sirius would never forgive you.”
James chuckles, “No, ugh, I wish.” He grins, “No, I think it’s even bigger than that.”
“Oh wow, now you’ve got me interested.” Remus smiles, then glances at the door, “Oh, speaking of- Sirius is here.” He nudges his head towards the door, from where James can hear shuffling.
Unable to take the waiting anymore, James all but runs to the door and swings it open before Sirius gets the chance to get his keys, and finds himself standing in front of his best friend for the first time in what feels like forever.
“NO WAY!” Sirius shouts and jumps onto James arms, hugging him tightly, “I can’t believe you’re here!”
“Surprise!” James beams at his best friend once they pull off from the hug, and finds Remus behind him, looking at them fondly.
“You knew about this?!” Sirius asks his boyfriend with a delighted expression, and swats him in the arm before he even has the chance to answer.
“Hey! No, I didn’t. He just showed up like fifteen minutes ago.” Remus smiles at Sirius, who is still gaping at both of them.
“So you’re showing up unprompted now?” Sirius raises his eyebrows, “I love it, please do it more.” He grins and throws his arms around James again.
“I know! I definitely should.” James says, “There’s no way we haven’t seen each other in a month before.”
Sirius swats him, “And whose fault is that?” he asks James and enters his flat, not without pecking Remus on the lips as a greeting. It might be creepy, but James will never get over watching his best friends being sweet and in love, after watching both of them pine over the other for years on end. It feels rewarding, and seeing both of them finally have all the happiness and love they deserve, it’s everything James wants, more than any job or team.
“You made dinner already?” Sirius asks Remus with a smile, “That’s sweet of you, thanks.”
Remus accepts the praise as he puts the food onto plates, “Was really just hungry, this is a selfish act.” He disclaims as he serves the plates on the counter.
“Thanks anyway, I’m so hungry.” James says, already digging onto his plate, “Practice ran a bit long, I thought I was going to miss my train, and then they didn’t even have any food left, like c’mon, I was basically starving.” He rambles on, until he remembers why he is even here in the first place, “Anyway, I have huge news, guys.” He grins.
Immediately, Sirius grins, “Oh my God, the last time you smiled like that it was to announce we had the places for the Experience Trip. Tell me this is at least half as good.”
“Oh, it’s supposed to be, he was dancing to my Janis Joplin earlier. I never saw him dance to that.” Remus adds, making Sirius wince.
“Honey, no one can dance to Janis Joplin.” He shakes his head, “C’mon, what are your news?” he asks, then gasps, “Are you friends with Bellingham? Because I’d never forgive you if you were.”
Remus chuckles and points at Sirius, “It’s what I said!”
“No, guys come on.” James laughs, “If I was friends with Bellingham, I obviously wouldn’t be talking to you guys anymore.” He rolls his eyes jokingly, earning himself another swat from Sirius.
“Go on, then, tell us!” Sirius forces, staring at James with overly excited eyes. James always loves how much his friend get excited on his behalf. How much they care.
James lets out a long breath and finally just says it, “I got offered a contract to enter the PSG. They’re willing to pay 4.3 million euros to Man U to have me. Can you believe it?” He grins at them, “The PSG wants me. Me! Like they want me, and they’re willing to pay for it?! It’s amazing!” he rambles on with the biggest smile he can muster, and looks as his best friends’ faces turn from excitement to shock, reminding James of himself a few days earlier.
“The PSG?” Sirius repeats with a dumfounded expression.
“Are you for real?” Remus asks with a face to match Sirius’.
“I am!” James grins, “I mean, sure it’s going to be an adjustment, but it’s everything I’ve wanted and more.”
“Oh my God!” Sirius beams at James, “You’re a proper football star! 4.3 million? Are you the next gen’s Messi?” he asks with huge eyes and this expression that James loves; the one he used to do when James had a specially genius prank idea back in school.
“I know!” James shouts out, “4.3 million? Who the hell did they think I am? I can’t believe they’d even think of paying this much for little old me!”
“I can!” Sirius beams at him, “Prongs you’re so amazing, it was really about time someone saw your real worth.” He says with a smile, making James a little sheepish. It’s not exactly the moment for his praise kink to show.
“Thanks, Pads.” James smiles at him, “God, the PSG wants me.” He says again, and starts laughing, “I mean, I would’ve been happy to play there for free, or even just pay them to play.” He says, making his friends chuckle.
“I know, man.” Remus shakes his head in bewilderment, “4.3 million is fucking mental, no matter how great you are.” He says, and when Sirius turns his head to stare at him with an eyebrow raised, he only shrugs, “What? We’re talking about millions worth of money, I’m bound to be shocked our little Prongsy is worth this much.”
“It’s football, Moons.” Sirius raises his eyebrows, “Neymar was worth 222 million, so really, James is still on the bottom of the ladder.” He explains, making Remus’ eyes widen comically.
“222 million??? Don’t people have better things to do with their money?” Remus asks with a truly confused face that makes James laugh.
“It’s cute how you still refuse to understand how football works.” He shakes his head, “But Sirius is right, I’m really not a huge player or anything. 4.3 million isn’t so much in football terms.” James disclaims. If there’s one thing James will never let himself become, it’s a pretentious asshole.
Thank God his friends are there to prevent it from happening.
“Oh, we know, I could score against you any day.” Sirius scoffs, always one to mock his defence skills.
“Oi, I’m a scorer, I can be excused for my mediocre defence.” James rolls his eyes playfully.
“Please.” Sirius chuckles, “Moony could score against you and you claim to be a professional.” He teases, and James jaw drops slightly.
“Excuse you, I’m about to get signed by the PSG, how dare you say Moony could ball me?” he asks, staring at Sirius.
Remus speaks up, “Am I really the criteria on who is a good player?” he asks.
“Yes.” Sirius nods, still looking at James playfully, “See, I can goal against you, and I can prevent you from scoring, which makes me a good player. James can goal, but you’d totally score to him.”
“I think you are severely overestimating my abilities.” Remus warns him with a concerned face.
“‘severely overestimating my abilities’ okay we get it, you’re in university, stop using big words.” Sirius rolls his eyes, “You could totally score James.”
“I just used words..?” Remus frowns, then shrugs and settles back onto his chair.
Ignoring Remus, James speaks back up, “I would have you know that my defence has gotten way better.” He defends himself and Sirius only scoffs.
“I’m sure Kimpembe will be blown away by your defence.” Sirius mocks.
James shakes his head, “Fine, if I’m so bad at defence, how about we have a game before I leave?”
This comment seems to be a wake up call for both Sirius and Remus. They both slow in their movements, and James sees the moment it all clicks for them in their heads.
“That’s right, you’re leaving.” Sirius nods at James in thought.
“Are you going to live in Paris full time then?” Remus asks him gently.
James nods, “I guess so, yeah. I mean, I’ll definitely come up once in a while, but I’ll have training every day anyway.”
“When does the season start?” Remus asks, at the same time Sirius leans closer to James over the table.
“Did you find a flat already?” he asks, “I would have given you one of the flats Reg and I own, but they’ve all got renters already.”
James chuckles, “No, I don’t have a flat, but I think my trainer said the PSG provides hotels for the players as long as needed. But thanks, mate.” He nods at him, then remembers Remus’ question, “The season starts around September, normally, but I have to start as soon as I can to get used to my teammates during practice.” He explains, and watches at the information sets over Sirius and Remus.
“Fuck, then you’ll be leaving soon, right?” Sirius asks, and James can only nod.
“They want me there on Wednesday. And, well. It’s Saturday.” He shrugs, and can’t stand the tense silence that takes over his friends. If truth be told, he isn’t looking forward to living even further from his family and friends than he already was, but there is no way he’d ever pass up an opportunity as big as this one to continue living in fucking Manchester of all places.
“But really, other than playing for Paris Saint Germain of all clubs, which is already fucking crazy, right, it’s an opportunity to leave the flat share, and I swear I was praying for something like that to happen.” He rambles on, “Because I swear, I can’t spend another week smelling Big James’ socks and having my cereal eaten by fucking Alexander.” He rolls his eyes, “I thought I’d be okay with roommates after rooming with you for seven years, but really I got lucky. None of you wake up at three everyday and make as much noise as a bloody elephant.”
Sirius cracks a smile, “You know it makes me happy to know you didn’t become besties with your new roommates.”
“As if he could ever replace us.” Remus grins.
“Actually, I was quite tight with Marc.” James confesses, just because he knows it makes Sirius pout, and it’s hilarious.
“Fucking Marc. I hate that guy.” Sirius shakes his head, “Thinks he’s so cool with his electric bike.” He rolls his eyes, and James can only laugh. The first time Sirius came around to his flat, Marc kept talking about his new electric bike, probably to flex, something neither James nor Sirius understood as a flexing material.
“He’s alright.” James shrugs, “I’ll be leaving the flat anyway. Doubt I’ll ever talk to him again.”
“Good.” Sirius grins, but quickly turns back to pouting, “Are you really leaving though? I don’t know if I can cope with you in another country.”
“Hey, come on, Pads, he’s not going to South Africa, he’s going to Paris.” Remus rationalises, ever the calm one, “It’s not that far.”
“Exactly.” James nods, “And, you know, the train from Paris to London is shorter than the train from Manchester to Cambridge. We’ll be just fine.”
Sirius stays loyal to his pouting, but manages to shrug a bit, “Yeah, I guess. At least Lily and Mary are there, so you won’t be as alone as you were in Manchester.”
“Yeah, and Regulus is there too.” Remus says in a wary voice, and it just hits James at that moment that, right, Remus knows about James’ unhealthy crush on the younger Black brother. How fun. “Pity he still hates you.” He reminds him, and James can only smile mockingly at him.
“Gee, thanks I hadn’t noticed.” For the entire duration of the last party at the Black-Lupin flat, Regulus straight up ignored James the whole time, even refused to look at him during charades, making their team lose. If that’s not hatred, then James doesn’t know what it is. It’s not like it’s going to make him give up anyway.
“I still don’t know why the fucker hates you.” Sirius sighs, “Another one of his weird quirks, I guess.”
“I’m just so lovable, I don’t understand either.” James sighs dramatically, making Remus scoff.
“Right, so since you’re so lovable, you’re not going to bother him while you’re in Paris, right?” Remus asks, and James knows that he knows the answer. Who would James Potter be if he wasn’t a botherer? And Regulus is just so easy to rile up. It would be a missed opportunity, really.
“No, of course not. You know me, just so sweet and likable.” James sighs wistfully like an old oak, when Sirius breaks his scene with a pinch in the arm.
“You’re not going to bother him!” Sirius chastises, “Please, he’s finally starting to speak to me like a real brother, don’t make him hate me by alliance.”
James pouts, “Not even a little bit?” he asks, and Sirius sighs as he stands from the table to clean out their now empty plates.
“No, James. He’s asked me multiple times to ask you to stop bothering him, he really has a problem with you. Please don’t make it worse.” Sirius asks, and his voice sounds truly shaken by this, and James has no choice but to oblige.
“Okay, Padfoot, I won’t. I’ll keep my distances.” He promises and is glad to see some tension leaving his best friend’s shoulders.
“Fine. Now, how about we get drunk one last time before we have to let our Prongs go to Paris?” Sirius suggests, and only a few short hours later, all three of them are laughing on the carpet with a empty bottle in between them and a truth or dare app opened on Sirius’ phone.
In all, it’s a good night.
________________________________________
It’s Monday night when James can finally breathe a little bit. His first training with the team is scheduled for the following Wednesday, now official since he signed the papers with the PSG for the next three years. He spent his day hauling his stuff from his flat in Manchester to his hotel room in Paris, or really, in Boulogne-Billancourt, right next to the Parc des Princes. He was lucky to have his father’s help during the day, but way too soon, he was alone in a hotel room full of cardboard boxes in a foreign city, with his dream job starting in two short days. It was everything James had ever wanted, and it was exhausting.
Of course, as soon as he told the news on the group chat with their entire friend group from the Experience Trip, Lily and Mary had invited him to their flat on Tuesday night, as a way to properly welcome him onto the City of Love. He’d even had a response from Regulus, a single eyerolling emoji reaction to his text that might’ve had him blushing for a little while.
It is pathetic really, how nine whole months weren’t enough for James to get rid of his feelings. It’s like Regulus had made an indent on his heart to match his own, and there was no getting away now. James was just cursed to love Regulus forever, even if it was never reciprocated.
And now, he wasn’t allowed to see or talk to him, because he had promised Sirius.
Anyway, on Tuesday, after a day of sightseeing, of walking over the Champ de Mars and admiring the Tour Eiffel from his hotel window, something James thought was fucking insane, he finally walks over to the Quartier Latin to Lily and Mary’s flat.
The building in itself is beautiful, and the whole neighbourhood reeks of money and rich people, which James thinks makes sense since the Blacks were the ones who bought it in the first place. Either way, the building is absolutely gorgeous, and it makes James think that if he were to get a flat in Paris, which he is, he would love to live here.
He walks up to their flat, apartment 3B, where a certain redhead he knows and loves more than anyone else in his life peeks her head out the door and throws it open when she sees who it is. She immediately runs to hug him, and James feels like he’s home again, as much as he did when he saw Remus and Sirius. Despite knowing her only one year, Lily will always hold a special place in his heart, if not only for having been the first girl James ever fell in love with, but also for being such an amazing friend and person.
“I’m so happy to see you!” James mumbles in her hair and he feels her nod in his arms. She pulls away and grins at him with this smile that could make anyone’s heart weaken. Maybe there will always be a part of him that loves Lily Evans. He’s okay with that; who could ever be better than her to keep a part of his heart safe?
“I can’t believe you’re just moving here.” Lily grins, “I’ll get to see you just so much more often!” she giggles, and welcomes him onto her flat.
All James can think is that just like Remus and Sirius’ flat, Lily and Mary’s flat just looks like them. The flat is spacious, and so light that James immediately feels good. The walls are white, most of the furniture are a light wooden colour while the sofa, couch, and most of the decorations are light green or dark red, colours James has come to associate with Lily and Mary. There too, there is a lot of greenery and books, though much more organised than at the boys’ apartment. What surprises James the most is the light: it’s so clear, and the windows are overtaking so much of the flat that it doesn’t feel like it’s past six at all; on the contrary, it feels as though it’s still early afternoon, with the sun high in the sky.
“It’s really light in here.” James comments with a smile, “Feels like you.”
“I know! I was so happy when I moved in.” Lily grins, “I couldn’t believe the Blacks would have such good taste in flats. It’s beautiful, and you should see Regulus’ place.” She comments offhandedly, like he and Regulus are such good friends. Like he isn’t the reason Lily and James broke up last august. “It smells like money. I didn’t even know it had a smell.” She says.
“Oh, yeah, I’m surprised this flat doesn’t smell like it. Sure looks like money anyway.” James chuckles. “No, actually it smells like something else….” He trails off, trying to figure out what the scent filling the space is. Vanilla, or caramel? Or is it monoi?
“It’s me!” Mary emerges from the bathroom with damp hair and a terracotta pink summer dress that makes her look lovely, “It smells like my shampoo, Jasmine oil.” She explains and grins at James as she wraps a blue towel around her hair, “Nice to see you, James!”
“Mary! It’s so nice to see you too.” He smiles at her, “I was just telling Lils, I love your flat. Really looks like the both of you.”
Mary chuckles, “Ha! Yeah, we try.” She chuckles, “Make yourself at home, I’ll go order some food or something.” She explains and disappears into the kitchen that is in an entirely other room than the living room. It’s been a while since James saw that inside of a flat.
“I can cook something up if you guys want?” James suggests, but Lily shakes her head.
“Nah, we’ve been craving sushi for a week. Don’t take this from us now.” She warns and motions for him to sit on the sofa next to her. “Now, tell me all about the PSG. How the hell did that happen?”
So, for the better part of the evening, James finds himself recounting the events leading up to him being a signed member of the biggest French football team to Lily and Mary who both look at him like he’s some sort of wonder of this world. After ten more minutes, he decides to ask them about it.
“No, it’s just, you have it all so figured out.” Mary whispers, “It’s insane. Like, we’re both so lost in everything we do, so are our friends, so it feels so weird to see someone who knows exactly what they want to do and who they want to be. Someone who is already that.”
James cocks his head, “I thought you loved it at the fashion gig? Isn’t it like your forever dream?”
Mary sighs, “It was. But now… I don’t know. I love the job, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t love everything else surrounding it. It’s complicated.” She explains, and it makes James crack a smile.
“Honestly, I don’t have it all figured out at all.” He confesses, “I was feeling the exact same way a week ago, and then I got the letter and all.” He shrugs, “Maybe you just need some good news.”
“Or a new job.” Lily comments, and when Mary tsks and rolls her eyes, she continues, “Come on, Mare, you hate these people. You come home every day and whine about how sad it makes you. Maybe you should change companies.”
Mary throws her hands, “It’s easy for you to say, you’ve got so many brains they’re basically falling out of your ears. No, there’s a good chance all I’m fit for is making coffee for big assholes who think they know everything about fashion and won’t hear the new kid out.”
James frowns, “I thought you were a stylist.”
“I thought so too.” Mary sighs, “But then I got to the job and it’s just making coffee and sorting through the drawings of the actual stylists. No creation, nothing to do with fashion, I’m just a plain old assistant. And then I see assholes like you who get signed for four bloody millions euros to run after some ball.”
“Yeah, I know.” James chuckles, “I’m really that asshole. If it helps, I didn’t ask for the four million. I would’ve played for free, honestly.”
Mary stares at him with big eyes, “No it does not help. Absolutely fucking not it doesn’t help.” She sighs out a laugh, “But anyway, enough about me.”
“Right.” James smiles, then turns to Lily, “Do you think I’m an asshole who just runs after some ball?”
Lily shakes her head fondly, “Definitely. But I’m going to be a lawyer anyway, so.” She shrugs, “Maybe I’ll save your arse when you get your knee put back wrong or something.”
“Why assume I’m going to have a problem with my knee?” James frowns at her, “No, Lils, you’re going to jinx me!”
“Right, sorry.” She chuckles.
“She’s just happy because Miss Genius Evans just passed her finals with one of the greatest grades of the year.” Mary grins at her friend with a fond look, and Lily only looks down at her lap sheepishly.
“Really? Oh my God, Lils, that’s amazing!” James celebrates, “Like Mary said, brains falling out of your ears.”
“It’s just first year.” Lily rationalises, “I have four other years until I get my masters. Plenty of opportunities to fuck things up.”
“Still, Lily, it’s amazing.” James smiles at her, “I’ll definitely sign you as my lawyer one day.” He says, and Mary only frowns.
“Why would you need a lawyer? Are you planning on breaking the law?” she asks.
Lily turns to look at him suspiciously, “If you are you shouldn’t be telling me. I have to take a sacred oath and all, you know?”
James chuckles and shakes his head at them, “No, I’m not planning to pull a bank job or anything.” He says, “No, it’s just that all famous people have lawyers. And well, since I’m worth 4.3 million euros now….” He trails off, letting the girls snort at him when the doorbell rings. Mary stands up to open it as Lily mocks him.
“Please, you haven’t even played with them yet and you’re already big headed.” She shakes her head, “Thank God you’re living here now. We’ll be able to humble you whenever we want.”
“Oh yeah. Whether you want it or not Potter, we’re going to meet on the regular to keep you a little modest.” Mary orders as she enters the living room now with two bags worth of sushi. “Or as modest as you are now.”
“C’mon, I’m not that arrogant yet, am I?” James asks, even though he already knows the answer. He has been known to strut around Hogwin back in his day.
“You’ve always been arrogant.” Lily snorts, “Used to assume every girl was flirting with you in them bars last year.”
“And I wasn’t wrong!” James splutters, “I managed to get one phone number in the Great Flirting Race with Mary last year!”
Mary bursts out laughing, “Oh my God, I forgot about that!” she chuckles, “Where was it again? Prague?”
“Somewhere around there, yeah.” Lily agrees, “And your performance was pathetic, James. I’m sure that girl gave you her number out of pity.”
James cackles, “Damn, you’re really being mean today.” He accuses, “As if I had to force you to go out with me.”
“It did take you three countries to finally kiss me.” Lily snorts, “But like we said, we’ve got to keep you humble.”
Mary grins, “Oh, if you see Regulus as well, I’m certain he’d humble you just fine.” She raises her eyebrows, “He still hates your guts, right?”
“Yup.” James nods. He really doesn’t want to think about what him living in the same city as Regulus means just yet, so he changes the subject, “But I think I’m going to stay humble just fine. I’m basically homeless now.” He announces with a shrug.
“Really?” Lily asks as Mary starts digging in the sushi bags. The sight alone is enough for James’ mouth to water: he is certain that salmon skin rolls are the eighth wonder of the world. “You’re rich as fuck, how come you’re homeless?”
James shrugs again, “I mean, I live in a hotel, so I’m not completely homeless, but I still have to find a flat.” He explains, “Can’t be too hard, right?”
This comment prompts the girls to chuckle, something that does not reassure James, “Oh boy.” Mary swears, “You’re going to live in a hotel for about a year.”
“If we didn’t live in Regulus’ flat, we’d still be homeless.” Lily explains, “Or we’d have to share a shitty studio in Saint Denis in a weed smelling building and five dealers waiting downstairs to mug us every day.”
“Oh.” So that’s great, “Paris is fun.” James nods, “But I mean, I’m rich. It can’t be that hard to find a flat if I’m willing to pay half a million for it?”
Lily and Mary share a glance that makes James uneasy. Is he really going to have to live in a crap hotel until his contract with the PSG ends?
“It depends. What are you looking for in a flat?” Lily asks, and James can only shrug.
“I don’t know.” He says, “A roof over my head? Running water? I’m not picky.” He explains, and watches as Mary sighs.
“Oh, James.” She looks at him with pity in her eyes, “You can’t visit flats on your own.”
“Why not?” he asks, looking expectantly at them.
Lily sighs, “Because you’ll say yes to the first flat you’ll see, and within a month the roof will collapse on you because there was water damage you didn’t see.”
“Or the building will reek of drugs or wet dog or pollution and you’ll go home every day wanting to kill yourself because you can’t get one good breath in.” Mary continues.
“Or worse, you’ll think it’s a good flat until you realise it’s a maid’s room and will be a thousand degrees Celsius in summer and minus five in winter. And you’ll kill yourself again because it smells bad all the time, the windows don’t open and it’s so small you can’t get the bedframe to pass the door, so you’ll have to sleep on the floor.” Lily enumerates, and rushes to explain upon James’ incredulous stare, “What? Happened to my buddy Frank.”
James stares at them, then nods slowly, “You are completely right. I would not think of these things, like, never. Do I need to hire a real estate agent?” he asks, and Lily shakes her head immediately.
“Oh, no. They’ll try to sell to you the few flats they can’t manage to sell since 2012 and you’ll end up living on the eighth floor with no lift.” She explains, and turns to look at Mary, who is already grinning. James knows this grin; it’s one that means trouble.
“You don’t need a real estate agent. You need the help of one of my friends.” Mary declares and whips her phone out to text said friend, “He’s a genius when it comes to finding out flats. I mean, he’s our landlord. He’s the one who found this flat.” She explains with a shit eating grin, and James finds himself already shaking his head.
“No, no, he hates me. I can’t ask that of him, he’d most likely shoot himself in the foot than help me out.” James tries, but Mary continues to text him, her smile never wavering.
“Yeah, right he hates you.” She rolls her eyes, “He just needs a little push. And you need a flat.” She summarises, making Lily giggle.
“You can’t stop her.” She grins at James, “She already made up her mind.”
James shrugs, “He won’t show anyway, he hates my guts. You can ask him all you want, but Regulus doesn’t do anything if he doesn’t want to do it.”
“He owes me.” Mary grins at James, “Neither of you are getting out of this. I need some entertainment, let me have this.”
“He owes you?” James repeats incredulously, “I didn’t even know you guys were close.”
Mary nods, “Oh we are. He comes around the flat every Friday night. We’re besties now.” She chuckles.
“They made a pact to marry each other if they’re still single by forty.” Lily explains with a smile.
“Yeah.” Mary sighs, “Honestly, I think it’s actually going to happen. I haven’t had any successful date in ages.” She complains, and Lily gasps next to her.
“You liar! You came home with flowers just last Saturday.” She accuses, and Mary only shrugs.
“Yeah, big deal, he can buy me flowers. Doesn’t mean it’s successful.” She sighs, “I’m considering quitting the dating scene, honestly.”
James might not be an expert in social interactions, but he’s pretty sure Lily looks a little pleased. She swallows the sushi she was eating and speaks back up, “Men are crap anyway.” She shrugs, “I gave up on them after this asshole dumped me.” She says, nodding in James’ direction.
Immediately feeling less smug, James gapes at her, “It was amicable! You also wanted to break it up.” He declares. Lily shrugs.
“Well, yeah, I wasn’t going to continue watching you pine over Reg.” he rolls her eyes, “It was fucking miserable to watch.”
“I think we’re about to see him pine some more.” Mary grins, “Reg just agreed to visit a flat with you. He’s already booked an appointment. Thursday at four.” She announces, and James can only stare at her in shock.
He has an appointment to visit a flat with none other than Regulus Black, the guy James has been infatuated with for the better part of a year.
That’s just great, isn’t it?