Brevity is of the Essence
Remus Lupin doesn’t tend to think of himself as a complainer, not really. He finds people who always find something to pick apart quite exhausting, actually, and it’s perhaps only by the fear of becoming that person he manages to keep his mouth shut half the time. His New Year's resolution was to be more optimistic- granted it’s currently November and closer to the next new year, but still. He likes to think he has made some progress. A few prime examples- not turning around and yelling at the guy who sits behind him in his philosophy class, who’s had a stuffed nose for the majority of the past two weeks and apparently has no idea how to blow said nose, take Mucinex, or simply shut the fuck up. Not arguing with his neighbor over the honestly awful (as in, who-gave-the-singer-the-right-to-perform level awful) music he was playing at an ungodly hour last week. Or biting his tongue when the editor at the official-but-somehow-unofficial school newspaper lectured him about the importance of submitting pieces on time, but it wasn’t even Remus’s story to begin with, he’d volunteered to help a colleague with it when they got sick but was given the wrong deadline on accident. You’re a stuck-up asshole who needs to mind your own business is what he thinks, but he keeps that one inside. All in all, Remus tries to reign in his natural pessimism and be less woe-is-me on a daily basis.
He will not, however, grin and bear the frankly egregious request given to him by one Lily Evans, on a Monday morning no less.
“Absolutely not.”
“Come on Remus, please?”
“Lily, I love you, but you’d have more luck if you asked me to cut off my arm.”
“Remus.”
Remus groans, finally sitting up in bed, reaching blindly for his alarm clock to check the time. (Could and should he just use his cell phone, that he’s currently talking on? Yes. Will he? No). “Lily, it is eight in the morning, it is Monday, and you’re asking me a pretty awful favor. If you were expecting a good mood you should’ve waited until at least ten and brought me coffee.”
Lily huffs on the other line, and Remus can practically see the eye roll, hear the dissatisfied brushing of her hair off her shoulder. “It’s not like I’m thrilled about this either. My stupid roommate-” she says in a louder voice, and a faint groan of protest comes from who Remus can assume to be Marlene filters in through the background. “Infected me with whatever’s been going around campus. I feel like death, Remus, honestly.”
Remus grimaces because admittedly, Lily does sound pretty awful. There’s a slight scratch to her voice, and she’s sniffing every five seconds (a pet peeve of Remus’s he’s having a hard time not bringing up), not to mention the fact she hasn’t lectured him for still being asleep at what Remus deems a reasonable hour but what Lily calls wasting daylight. “Ah, I’m sorry, shame on Marlene then”, Remus says, figuring he must be on speaker when an indignant ‘hey!’ resounds from the background. “That sucks, I’ll drop off some tea or soup later if you want”.
“Thanks, Remus, you really are the sweetest. Truly my best friend in the whole wide world, the epitome of a gentleman, the model of an upstanding citizen.”
“Lils?”
“Yeah?”
“No.”
“Remus!” Comes the indignant response, and with a sigh, Remus hoists himself out of bed, figuring if he’s going to be yelled at he might as well be semi-alert. “It’s not that big of a deal, really. You go, you take pictures, pretend to be interested, and leave. You don’t have to do any of the writing, talk to anyone, or do anything besides point the lens at the court and press a button. It won’t be miserable, I promise-” Lily is starting to ramble now, working herself into a tizzy that Remus knows can go on for an impressive amount of time unless interrupted.
“Lils?”
“Yeah?”
“...You owe me,” Remus relents, running a hand over his face, deciding the happy exclamation and exhale of relief from Lily makes it somewhat worth it.
“Thank you, Remus, I really do appreciate you-” Lily starts before Remus cuts her off with a hum and dismissive wave of his hand that she can’t see through the phone (shocker), but he’s sure his bookshelf appreciates.
“It’s fine Lily, I’m just dramatic when I’m half asleep, you know this.” He says absentmindedly, rummaging through his stack of textbooks and notebooks on his desk. It’s only a half lie, really- he is dramatic when he’s half asleep, but no amount of rest could make him hate this favor any less. However, Remus does want to be a good friend and doesn’t want Lily to feel bad. He’s also incredibly uncomfortable with being apologized to, or any verbal acknowledgement of relationships, even platonic ones. He’s the kind of person to write someone a long and sappy card on their birthday only to avoid all eye contact when the friend reads it, and profusely deny said card's existence if ever questioned about it. After an amount of searching that should prompt Remus to straighten up his desk (it won’t), he locates his pocket notebook that he uses to scribble down due dates, important events, and other things that would be lost in the jungle that is his Notes app. “Right, so what’re the specifics? How long am I in for?”
There’s the faint sound of shifting on the other line, before Lily’s voice comes through, slightly louder but no less scratchy. “It’s the season opener, Penn State versus Binghamton- oh shut up, it’s a real college. Game starts at 3:30, but you should be there by 1:45- I don’t make the rules, don’t shoot the messenger. The coaches know someone from the Collegian is coming, so there's not gonna be an issue there. Um- just get good action shots, if all else fails watch their captains- 27 and 3, they’re usually an interesting duo, so get some good media from them. You don’t have to take notes or anything like that, I think Gideon’s got someone else on the article and interviews and such-”
“You think or you know?”
“Remus.”
“It’s a question, Lily.”
“It gives the same energy as asking a teacher if you can use the bathroom and they go ‘I don’t know, can you? Don’t you mean may I?’ Just so… pretentious.”
“Ironic, isn’t it? How the word pretentious sounds pretentious.” Remus muses, snapping his notebook shut and tossing it onto the bed, stretching as he pads into the bathroom. After a quick once over in the mirror (not much can be done, he determines), he runs the water to brush his teeth, figuring the impending lecture Lily will give him for the backsass will give him the time.
“Just… behave yourself, alright? Don’t let it be known that you’re overly unenthusiastic to be there. Keep the side eyes and sarcastic comments to yourself, don’t talk to strangers, if someone creepy comes up to you yell ‘you’re not my mommy or daddy’, etcetera etcetera” Lily grumbles, taking on the borderline motherly tone she usually does with anyone in the vicinity she deems irresponsible (read: everyone). Remus rolls his eyes, briefly entertaining thoughts of mutiny before spitting in the sink and splashing water around in a vague attempt to uphold some level of cleanliness before reentering the bedroom.
“You know, for a person asking a favor you’ve got quite a lot of jokes.”
“For a person who needs to be somewhere at 1:45, you’re doing a lot of talking and not a lot of schedule rearranging,”
“I don’t have any classes today, or else I would be protesting with much more vigor, believe me. Besides, you’re doing the majority of the talking. We’ve talked about the rambling Lils, brevity is of the essence.” This triggers an annoyed groan, which causes Remus to grin. It’s an inside joke between them, something that occurred their freshman year when they met. They had the same English class, and at one point the professor said “Brevity is of the essence” concerning emails and other class inquiries, causing some random girl in the class to turn and ask her friend what ‘bread-ity’ was and if bread would be a good smelling essential oil for the dorm. Remus, who sat behind the girl and her friend, looked up with a horrified look at the same time Lily, who sat in front of the two girls, turned around in disbelief. This sparked their bond and spurred Lily to sit next to Remus the next class, beginning their friendship which is still going strong into Junior year. So, brevity is of the essence became a phrase that one of them uses to take the piss out of the other, letting them know that they need to stop and listen to themselves before they say something too stupid.
“You’re a comedian, really.”
“I try.”
“Text me if you need anything, alright?”
“Will do Lils. Get some sleep, okay? I’ll drop off some soup for you and Marlene after the game, provided I survive.”
“You’re a saint, Rem.”
“Yeah yeah, you can thank me by recuperating. Talk to you soon.”
“Alright, talk to you later, thanks again”. With that, the line goes dead, and Remus shuts his phone off, tossing it onto his bed next to his notebook, quickly following suit and letting gravity pull him down into the sheets. He does an awkward sort of shimmy to get comfortable, his bed not particularly well suited for a taller-than-average college student with a penchant for flopping and hoping for the best.
He’s not sure how he gets himself into these situations, honestly. I mean, if you wanted to get analytical about it, it’s his fault for having parents who enabled his early onset obsession with literature- something that somehow morphed into being an English major at Penn State and a student writer at the Daily Collegian, Penn’s unofficial student-run news source. But really, it’s his loyalty to his best friend that got him into this specific situation, that is photographing the Penn State men’s basketball team’s season opener against whatever ridiculously named college Lily had said, despite his ever-persisting hatred for athletic activity. That he knows the source of, but it’s a longer story that he doesn’t feel like paying a therapist to hear. Lily, however, is an incredibly dear friend, the kind of friend that has made Remus contemplate her being his best woman or something at his wedding a lieu of a best man, given his lack of particularly close male friends. That might get a bit complicated if he ends up marrying a woman though, so maybe some different phrasing. But then again assuming he’ll ever get married is presumptuous, so this particular version in his train of thought has led to nothing. Groomsmen party aside, he’s willing to do her a favor and take pictures at the basketball game when she’s sick, because that’s what friends do, even if one of them is a sarcastic bastard who hates being near sports fans.
With good reason. Remus thinks, huffing to himself and rolling onto his stomach as if anyone is around to care about his inner plights. College students are already obnoxious, whose idea it was to stick a bunch in a glorified gym where the entire atmosphere depends on ten guys with a ball.
With a long-suffering sigh, he pushes himself up, figuring pajama pants and a “Who is John Galt?” tee shirt that Lily got him for his birthday freshman year isn’t the attire he should wear to a sporting event at a school that's athletic commitment embarrasses him. After checking about five different weather apps, googling if basketball gyms (courts? arenas? ) get stuffy (spoiler alert- they do), and opening his window an excessive amount of times to stick his arm out and check the wind, Remus gives up and resigns himself to wearing layers to combat the November chill and sweaty gym, accepting that he’ll probably need some adjustments. The result of his deliberation is light wash jeans, a vintage Nittany Lions tee shirt that used to be his dad’s under a Penn State crew neck, with his black jacket to top it off. And of course, the bag with his camera and all the other crap he’ll be needing. After breakfast, essay revisions, and a painful analysis of the most recent segment of “Middlemarch” he’s read, Remus deems it time to go, looking around for his shoes.
Remus’s apartment is small- a kitchenette, a table covered in books, papers, and other things that don’t belong, a couch in the corner surrounded by built-in bookshelves is what the main space consists of, a small bedroom off to the side with enough room for a desk, bed, nightstand, and another shelf, the final spaces being a small bathroom and closet. Remus is perfectly fine with this arrangement- it’s close to campus, the rent is cheap and payable between his jobs at the Pattee and Paterno Library (one library two names, gets confusing), and as a TA (regrettably, student writers at the Daily Collegian only get paid in academic validation, something Remus values less and less the closer he gets to graduation), and he doesn’t need that much space. If he needs a change of scenery, he’ll go to Lily and Marlene’s, a library, a coffee shop, or a park if he's feeling particularly Rory-Gilmore-esque (he draws the line at claiming student trees and poor decision-making skills). Bottom line, he’s content.
A long and arduous five minutes of searching ensues before Remus locates his Converse (underneath an umbrella), ties them, grabs his bag, and sets off. Locking his door, headphones are immediately on- today is not a “nature is a wonder, allow me to frolic through campus and smell the sunshine” day, no, today is a “find bus, board bus, ride bus, do shit, go home” day. A day that must be aided by some level of Bowie to even be remotely salvageable. Remus’s mission is briefly updated when some random girl stops him on the staircase to ask if he knows what apartment her boyfriend is in, he does not, and therefore continues on his trek to the bus stop. The bus is (miraculously) on time, and Remus texts Lily that all is well, not expecting a text until her fever-induced nap wears off. After what feels like an eternity, due to the guy behind Remus tapping his foot on the back of his seat every thirty seconds (something he bites his tongue about), he arrives at the stop closest to the Bryce Jordan Center, where the game’s going to be played. One sandwich from a coffee shop he walked by on the way later, Remus finds himself in front of the stadium, texting Lily that he’s made it. It’s a habit, induced by years of an overprotective but sweet and well-meaning mother fussing over his whereabouts constantly. It’s not like his mom would give a shit about his being at a basketball stadium now- well, actually, she might, but Remus worked hard on getting his mother to not text him twenty thousand times a day over the past few years, and he doesn't feel like reopening that can of worms before he has to go fulfill one of his arguably most frustrating assignments yet. So, he tends to text Lily when he’s arriving or departing somewhere, given they usually have plans or updates that revolve around that sort of thing. A quick ‘made it alive’ text later, Remus is looking up at the stadium’s structure, wondering how much it cost and imagining all the better ways the money could be spent. You’re telling me there’s no other way this school could spend this money? Remus thinks to himself, before deciding no amount of hating is going to delay the inevitable.
“Alright, you’re going to be fine. In and out, short and painless,” Remus mutters to himself, adjusting the strap of his bag. After a quick contemplation about the consequences of simply not going in, Remus takes a deep breath, walking up the path towards the complex, resigning himself to a few hours of misery, but consoling himself with the idea that he can lord this over Lily’s head for the rest of time.