Blue Moon
James was jerked awake by a sharp, insistent shaking. His body lurched, his eyes blinking against the sudden intrusion of the early morning light. When he opened them fully, he saw his cousin, Lee, leaning over him, shaking him frantically.
"James," Lee was saying, his voice tense, the words strained. "James!"
It took James a second to register the urgency in Lee's face. He reached for his glasses on the nightstand, his hands trembling slightly as he put them on. Lee’s worried expression sharpened into focus.
"What’s happened?" James croaked, his voice hoarse with sleep.
Lee didn’t answer right away, instead looking at James with a strange, uncomfortable look. He swallowed dryly, and the unsettling feeling in James’s chest grew. It was something heavy, something he didn’t want to name.
"Have you heard from Regulus?" Lee asked quietly, his tone almost too soft.
James frowned. "No, not since yesterday at the demonstration. Why?
Lee shifted uneasily, looking away, and James felt his pulse quicken. The feeling in his chest turned into a sickening ache. Something was wrong. Something terrible.
"Lee," James said, his voice rising, "what happened?"
Lee’s face faltered for a moment, and he stood up, walking around the room with a newspaper in his hand, as if trying to work out the right way to deliver the words. James felt a knot form in his stomach.
"Lee, tell me what’s happened!" James’s voice was sharp, more urgent now.
Lee sighed heavily, his face hardening with something James couldn’t quite place. He turned to face James, his face a mixture of guilt and sorrow.
With trembling hands, Lee extended the newspaper to James. It felt like the air in the room had suddenly gone thin, like everything had stopped breathing. James took the paper from Lee’s hands, his fingers stiff.
As he unfolded it, his heart was already racing too fast, the fear in his chest growing, threatening to burst. His eyes scanned the page, searching for anything, anything that would give him some kind of answer.
Then he found it. The short column in the corner of the page. There was no picture, just a few sparse lines of text. It was so brief, so blunt, it hit him like a slap.
Regulus Black
It is with deep sorrow that we announce the passing of Regulus Arcturus Black, son of Walburga and Orion Black. Regulus, a talented and renowned singer, tragically lost his life in a car accident yesterday afternoon. The Black family, one of the most influential in the region, mourns the loss of their beloved son. He will be deeply missed by all who knew him. Funeral arrangements will be announced at a later date.
James’s breath hitched, and his chest tightened as he stared at the newspaper in his hands, the words spinning around his vision. He couldn’t breathe. His heart hammered in his chest as the weight of what he was seeing began to sink in. Regulus is gone. Just like that. He could feel his world crashing down, his mind spiraling into a dark, dizzying hole.
"No," James gasped, shaking his head violently as his body trembled. "No, this is a lie. It can’t be true." He couldn’t accept it. He refused to.
Tears flooded his eyes, hot and furious, spilling over and down his cheeks, and before he knew it, he was screaming. His voice cracked, raw and broken. "It’s not real! It can’t be! It’s all... it’s all a bloody lie!"
Lee stood there for a moment, frozen, watching James unravel before him. But when the rage and pain flooded over James in waves, he Lee took a step forward and pulled him into his arms. Lee was strong, holding James close, offering a warmth and comfort that didn’t feel nearly enough.
James’s hands balled into fists against Lee’s chest, his body wracked with sobs as the truth settled in like an iron weight in his gut. He was shaking uncontrollably, his heart shattering into a thousand pieces. "I..I can’t..." he gasped, his words broken and incoherent. "I didn’t... I didn’t get to say goodbye. I didn’t..."
Lee tightened his grip, his voice low and steady, even though he was fighting tears of his own. "I know, James. I know. Just breathe, huh. It’s gonna be alright, I promise, it’s gonna be alright."
James pulled away, eyes wild and full of despair as he glared at the obituary, the truth of it slapping him in the face. "It’s not okay!" he shouted, his voice harsh and unrecognizable. "How is this... How can this be okay? I loved him, Lee. And now... He’s... He's gone."
The room felt too small, too suffocating, as if the walls were closing in on James, trapping him in this nightmare. He was spiraling, his hands shaking as he crumpled the newspaper in his grip, clutching it like a lifeline that was slipping through his fingers.
Lee, unable to say anything to fix the pain, just held him again, trying to offer whatever comfort he could, but James didn’t want comfort. He wanted answers. He wanted Regulus back.
But the truth was still there, staring at him in black and white.
...
James spent the next few days in his room, the curtains drawn, the air heavy with the silence of grief. He hadn’t eaten, hadn’t showered, barely moved, save for the occasional sob that wracked his chest. The weight of loss sat on him, suffocating, relentless. His thoughts were consumed with Regulus, the boy he loved, the man he’d never get to hold again. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Regulus face, the last time he’d heard Regulus's voice, the plans they'd never get to make.
His mother’s voice pierced through the haze of his misery. “James?” Her knock was soft, tentative. She didn’t wait for an answer, knowing the state he was in, but she stepped in anyway, the door creaking slightly.
He didn’t even acknowledge her. He lay on his side, facing away from her, his back rigid with sorrow.
“James,” Euphemia’s voice cracked, though she tried to hold it together. “Baby, you gotta talk to me.”
He didn’t move, didn’t even flinch at the sound of her voice. His face was buried in the pillow, tears still wet on the fabric. She stood for a moment, watching him, before she made her way to the bed. Gently, she lay beside him, her arm cautiously slipping around his waist. Her presence, warm and familiar, enveloped him in a way that was almost comforting, even as the storm of grief raged inside him.
Euphemia held him close, her chin resting gently on the back of his head. She whispered softly, “You’re gonna have to tell me, love. I’m here. Whatever it is, I’ll listen.”
James’s breath hitched as the weight of the moment settled in. He turned slightly, just enough to meet her gaze, though his eyes were glassy, unseeing. His words came out choked, as though they had been trapped inside for days, suffocating him. “It wasn’t just a damn friend, Mum. He wasn’t... just a friend. We were... together. Regulus and me, we... we were a couple.”
His chest tightened, the guilt and grief mixing like poison inside him. Euphemia’s hand stilled on his back for a moment, but then she held him tighter, her touch tender and understanding.
“I know,” she whispered, her voice soft, almost soothing. “I know, sweetheart.”
James let out a shaky breath, but it didn’t come close to being enough. The tears were a constant, an endless stream that couldn’t be stopped. His hands trembled as they clutched the blankets beneath him. “I loved him, Mum. I loved him so much, and now… now he’s gone. I… I can’t breathe without him.”
Euphemia’s heart broke for her son. She held him tighter, her presence the only thing she could offer in that moment of raw pain. “I know, darling. I know. But you have to hold on. For yourself. You’re not alone in this, James.”
But as she held him, she felt the truth of his devastation, the depth of the wound that would never heal. The love he’d shared with Regulus was something so pure, so real, and now it was gone. Euphemia knew her son, knew his heart, this grief would follow him for as long as he lived.
“I can’t go on without him,” James whispered, his voice barely audible. “I just… I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”
Euphemia closed her eyes, her own heart breaking for him. She knew, she understood, but there was nothing she could say or do that would fix the gaping hole inside him. All she could do was hold him, and in that moment, she prayed that the comfort of her presence might help him survive the storm, if only for a little while longer.
James’s body shook against hers as the sobs continued, as his world crumbled further into darkness. And Euphemia, in her quiet strength, held her broken son in the stillness of their shared grief, knowing that sometimes, love couldn’t heal the wounds it could only help bear the weight of them, even for just a moment.
...
The seventh day mass was quiet, somber, and filled with an air of finality that James couldn’t escape. He had avoided Regulus's funeral, unable to bring himself to face the truth that his love was gone. Lee had begged him to come, urged him to at least attend the mass, the final service for Regulus. It wasn’t about closure, James knew. Nothing could close this wound. But Lee had insisted, and eventually, James agreed, though his heart wasn’t in it.
They arrived at the church in silence, the weight of grief pressing down on them both. James took a seat at the back, his hands trembling in his lap. He didn’t want to be there, but there was an emptiness in him that refused to be filled. He had spent the last week in a haze, too numb to cry anymore, too hollow to care about anything. Regulus’s death had been an explosion that left nothing but ash in its wake, and James didn’t know how to survive in a world where Regulus didn’t exist.
Lee sat beside him, offering a quiet kind of support, but it was clear his mind was elsewhere, lost in his own thoughts. James kept his eyes fixed on the altar, not really seeing the priest, not hearing the prayers. His mind was too filled with the echoes of Regulus’s laugh, the warmth of his touch, the way Regulus had looked at him in those final moments they had shared together. It still felt like a dream, a cruel dream that James could wake up from any minute. Regulus would walk through the door, and they’d laugh about the mass, and everything would go back to normal.
But as the mass continued, James felt the creeping weight of reality. He was never going to see Regulus again.
Then Charles, the man James had assumed was just Regulus’s ex-boyfriend, stepped up to the pulpit. James hadn’t expected to see him there, but it made sense, Charles had been one of Regulus’s childhood friends.
Charles spoke with the ease of someone who had known Regulus far longer than James ever had, and it stirred a pang of jealousy in him. His voice was steady, but there was a hint of something raw in it, something beneath the surface. He spoke of Regulus’s talent, his passion for music, how he had touched the hearts of everyone who knew him. James could barely stomach it. His mind was filled with the image of Regulus, laughing, smiling, living, and now that was gone.
As Charles finished his speech, James’s hands clenched into fists, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to shout, to stand up and tell Charles that it wasn’t fair, that James had loved Regulus more than he had, more than anyone ever had, more than he could put into words. But he couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything but sit there, feeling like he was drowning in the reality of it all.
The mass ended, and James remained seated, his body heavy with the grief that had settled into his bones. He watched as people left.
After a while Lee stood up, offering James a quiet, sympathetic look before he left with the others, leaving James alone in the pew. The church was emptying out, and the silence that filled the space felt suffocating. James remained rooted to his seat, motionless, as though he could disappear into the stillness. Alone, he felt an emptiness that consumed him, without Regulus, without a dream to follow, without a love to hold. His mind screamed at him, telling him it wasn’t real, that this was just a nightmare.
He hadn’t prayed in years, but in that moment, it felt like the only thing he could do. He clasped his hands together, his fingers trembling as he closed his eyes. He didn’t know if he believed in God anymore, didn’t know if he believed in anything at all. But he prayed, anyway. For the first time since he was a child, James spoke to something, anything.
"God," he whispered, his voice hoarse, "please, just... let me see him again. Just once. I don’t care if it’s a dream, or if it’s just a sign. Please, let me see Regulus again."
Tears burned at the edges of his eyes, but he didn’t move. He didn’t want to leave yet. He didn’t want to leave the place where Regulus’s memory lingered, where it almost felt like he was still there.
But when the silence pressed down on him again, James realized with a painful clarity that no amount of praying, no amount of hoping, would bring Regulus back. Regulus was gone, and James had no choice but to keep living
in a world where he no longer existed.
...
James stepped out of the church, the heavy wooden doors creaking shut behind him. The weight of the silence followed him as he walked, as though the world had paused, holding its breath. Outside, Lee was waiting for him with Evan and Barty nearby, their own faces somber but concerned.
Evan was the first to speak, his voice soft but steady, “How you feelin’, James?”
James almost laughed. It was almost comical, the way Evan asked, like he expected the usual "I'm fine." James wasn’t fine. Not now, not ever again. His chest felt hollow, as though all the air had been sucked out, leaving him nothing but a shell. He blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill, but his voice trembled when he spoke.
“I feel like... I’m hollow inside. Like I’m just... not real,” James muttered, his words barely escaping his lips.
Barty shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. "James, you gotta understand... You shouldn't be thinkin' like that. It ain't healthy."
James shook his head, frustration bubbling inside him. “I should’ve stayed, Barty. I should’ve stayed with him at the demonstration. I left him alone. And now... now I’m here, and he’s gone, and I can’t... I can’t fix it.”
Evan glanced at Barty, before his eyes turned back to James. “James, listen to me, you weren’t meant to be there. A lot of the white folks got arrested, some of the black folks got beat up real bad, two of ‘em bled to death. It wouldn’t have been good for you, not at all.”
James clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. “It would’ve been better, Evan. If they’d have found me, maybe I’d be gone too. Then I wouldn’t have to sit here... mournin’ the loss of the only person I ever loved.”
Evan’s face softened, but his voice remained firm. “That ain't what Regulus would’ve wanted, James. He wouldn't want you to think like that.”
James swallowed hard, the ache in his chest growing, a rawness clawing at his throat. “Regulus isn’t here anymore. He’s gone, Evan. Gone... and I’m still here, stuck with the mess of it all.”
The words felt like a weight in his mouth, each one dragging him deeper into the void.
Lee stepped forward, his gaze steady but filled with a kind of quiet resolve. “James, you still here. You’re still breathin’, still standin’. You got a life to live one that Regulus would be proud of. You owe him that much, don’t you?”
James’s eyes hardened, his chest tightening as he struggled to hold it together. "I don’t want any life, Lee. Not without him."
Lee’s expression softened, but before he could say anything more, Evan pulled something from his pocket. It was a small photograph, folded slightly at the edges, and he handed it to James with a quiet gentleness.
James took it, confused at first, and then his breath caught in his throat. The photo was of Regulus, his face caught in that perfect moment, young, beautiful, and full of life, a warmth in his eyes that James would never see again. The weight of it hit him harder than anything, and before he could stop it, the tears finally came, slipping down his cheeks.
“Barty stole it for you,” Evan said softly. "He figured you’d want it. I figured you’d want somethin' to hold onto."
James looked down at the photo, his heart shattering into pieces all over again. His hands trembled as he pressed the photograph to his chest, the weight of it too much to bear, but he couldn't let it go.
"Thank you..." His voice broke, the gratitude wrapped up in the unbearable grief. "Thank you so much."
For a long moment, none of them spoke. The air between them felt thick with the weight of loss, and James stood there, clinging to the memory of Regulus
in a way he never thought he would have to. The love of his life was gone, and now, all he had were fragments, fragments that could never fill the void.