The first Chord
Regulus wasn’t the type to go to concerts. Not like this. He preferred the quiet comfort of a good book or a rare record he could lose himself in. Crowded spaces, sweating bodies pressed together, and music so loud it vibrated through your bones—none of it ever appealed to him. But this time was different.
Sirius had practically dragged him here, throwing his arm around Regulus’ shoulders, saying it would be good for him to “get out more.” It was rare that they agreed on anything these days, but tonight, his brother’s enthusiasm had won out.
So here he was, in a cramped underground venue, the ceiling low and the smell of stale beer hanging in the air. The crowd was alive with chatter and anticipation, the energy so thick Regulus could almost feel it on his skin. People brushed past him, strangers shouting to one another, but Regulus stood still, eyes fixed on the stage, waiting.
The lights flickered, dimmed, and in an instant, the noise of the crowd surged. A low hum of feedback filled the room, and the anticipation built like a current, electric, and heady. Regulus felt it—despite himself, despite how out of place he knew he was. He shifted, trying to clear his head, but it was impossible to ignore the way his heart beat a little faster.
The moment came. The band stepped onto the stage, and Regulus caught sight of Sirius first—of course. His brother looked like he owned the place, his grin wide and reckless, dark curls wild, feeding off the crowd’s excitement like it was his lifeblood. Next to him was Marlene, her electric guitar slung low, a mischievous glint in her eye as she exchanged a playful smile with Sirius. Remus followed, more composed, adjusting the strap of his keyboard, calm yet focused, his fingers already moving over the keys with practiced ease.
And then—
Regulus froze.
There, in the center of it all, was James Potter.
James, with his effortless swagger, dark hair messy and windswept, wearing a leather jacket that clung to his frame like it was made for him. His fingers curled around the neck of his bass guitar, and he strummed it with a casual confidence that made it look easy—too easy.
Regulus couldn’t breathe for a second. His gaze locked onto James like he was the only person in the room, and the rest of the world faded to a dull blur. It was ridiculous, really. He didn’t even know the bloke beyond what Sirius had mentioned in passing—loud, obnoxious, but good-hearted, the kind of person who left an impression whether you wanted him to or not.
But seeing him here, like this, in his element… Regulus couldn’t tear his eyes away.
James stepped up to the mic, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, his voice smooth and low as he addressed the crowd. “Hope you’re ready to have your minds blown,” he said, and the audience erupted in cheers, a roar of approval that washed over them all like a tidal wave.
Regulus swallowed, hard.
James’ voice was deeper than he’d imagined, carrying a rough edge that sent a shiver down Regulus’ spine. It was the kind of voice that demanded attention without trying, that filled the space between heartbeats and held it there.
Then the music started, and it hit Regulus like a freight train. The bass line was thick and heavy, vibrating through the floor and into his bones, and it was all he could do to stay grounded. His heartbeat matched the tempo, quickening as the song built, each chord wrapping tighter around him, pulling him under.
But it wasn’t just the music. It was James—everything about him, from the way his fingers moved across the strings to the way his body swayed with the rhythm, completely at ease. James was magnetic, a force of nature, and Regulus… well, Regulus was powerless against it.
He stood there, transfixed, hardly aware of the crowd around him, the noise, the heat. Nothing else mattered. Nothing except the boy on stage who seemed to radiate light. And for the briefest of moments, as James scanned the room, his gaze flickered to Regulus.
Their eyes met.
Regulus’ heart stopped. He felt it—that spark, that impossible pull. And in that second, the space between them seemed to collapse, the noise fading into the background, leaving only the two of them in a world of their own.
James smiled, just a hint, before looking away, his attention swept back into the performance. But the damage was done.
Regulus felt his pulse race, a strange warmth blooming in his chest, something foreign and impossible to ignore. He told himself it was nothing. A coincidence. But deep down, something had shifted.
As the last chord rang out, the crowd’s roar crashed like waves against the stage. Sirius, ever the showman, threw his arm around James and Marlene, grinning wildly as the cheers grew even louder. Regulus, still rooted to his spot at the front of the stage, felt the aftershock of the performance settle into his bones.
———————————————————
“Reg!” Sirius called, his voice cutting through the noise as he caught sight of his brother. “Come on back! You’ve gotta meet the rest of the band!”
Before he could overthink it, Regulus pushed his way through the crowd, heart still racing as he made his way backstage. The chaotic energy of the venue shifted to a more intimate buzz, and he spotted Sirius, Marlene, and Remus laughing together, the adrenaline of the performance still pulsing through them.
“Regulus!” Marlene greeted, her hair slightly wild, a huge grin on her face. “What did you think?”
“It was… loud,” he admitted, trying to sound casual as he approached. “Not really my type of music, to be honest.”
Sirius laughed, clapping him on the back. “Well, yeah, it’s not your emo and indie stuff! You’re all about those sad songs. But you know, we do a killer cover of ‘Under Pressure’!”
Regulus rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “I’ll take your word for it. I guess I’ll have to stick to my own band’s emo vibes.”
As they chatted, Regulus couldn’t help but glance around for James, who was adjusting his bass and laughing with Remus. There was something electric about the way he carried himself, an infectious energy that pulled Regulus in again.
“Hey, Reg,” Sirius said, breaking his reverie. “You should totally join us for a practice session sometime! You can show us what real music sounds like.”
“Yeah, as long as it’s not another one of your glam rock inspirations,” Regulus replied, feigning annoyance. “I’ve got my own band to worry about.”
“Aw, come on! You’ll love it!” Sirius insisted. “Besides, I think you’d get along with James. He plays the bass like it’s part of him.”
Regulus nodded, though he felt heat creeping into his cheeks. He could see James out of the corner of his eye, laughing with Remus, completely at ease. For a brief moment, their eyes met again, and Regulus felt that same pull, stronger this time, like a magnet drawing him closer.