A gust of wind started dancing around with a thick layer of dust on the record player in the corner of the room and in the sun shining through the half-open curtains, it almost seemed as if it sparkled.
The wind went right for a pile of sheet music too, it was hastily laid on a piano with a layer of dust even thicker than the record player. In a blink of an eye, pages of handwritten music and messy notes went flying up in the air like the leaves on the last day of November.
A young man ran into the room to close the window, cursing softly as he began to pick up everything that had fallen down, his mind already elsewhere, just until he spotted a familiar list of paper in the midst of the chaos.
He ran his fingers across the ink.
The smudged notes in a pencil that wasn't sharpened in way too long because its owner refused to do it for it would lose the softness of the lines.
More notes, written in a different language, doucement, avec beaucoup d’émotion, besoin de l'air adorable ici…
Folded corners.
The world stopped turning for a second.
The title read Almost blue (ver. for piano and trumpet) by Chet Baker in tilted, elegant handwriting.
He smiled, but soon the first tear fell next to the curled treble clef, followed by countless more until the notes started to smudge across the page.
He cried until he ran out of tears completely.
He knew exactly for how long he hadn't seen this piece. Five months, three weeks and about two days wasn’t quite long enough to forget. It’s not like he didn’t know it was there, either. He simply liked to forget about it, for his own sake.
Maybe, he thought, it could have been some kind of sign. A sign to stop wailing? To stop missing Regulus? He wasn't sure.
It was almost half a year since he got a horrifying call from Remus, who was consoling crying Sirius at the same time, saying that Regulus was in a car accident, pronounced dead on the spot.
He couldn’t get out of his place for a week.
It was a long, agonising week of ‘James, you have to eat’ and ‘James, what is it?’ from his dear mother, but how could he tell her he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore?
How could he tell her his heart stopped beating the way it used to because he fell for a boy who died so suddenly it still didn’t feel real?
She didn’t know about anything but Sirius’ little brother passing, she couldn’t know.
About all the nights, the mornings after, the love songs played so quietly you'd barely hear them…
They were played in such manner for a reason after all.
He would love for her to know, but every time he tried to say it, something inside stopped him, until eventually, he stopped trying, stopped hoping and now it almost didn’t seem to matter anymore.
He started to pick up sheets of paper again, slowly, like a lifeless robot. The rest of the day passed in a blur.
James stumbled to his door from the narrow staircase, tiredly pulling the scarf from his neck to discard it on the first chair he came across. He had no idea if he ate dinner, or lunch, or anything in between, and he didn’t care, going straight for the bathroom.
The water was set on so hot it turned his skin blotchy, red and his head empty. He enjoyed those few moments of bliss, steaming droplets falling on his shoulders washing away thoughts of long fingers adorned with rings playing the familiar melody.
Finally in bed, James started to drift off. The clock was ticking close to 1am, and a few drunk people yelled back and forth, but after they went back to where they came from, the street sank into a strange silence, not even cars could be heard anywhere around.
The dark brown and blue of the night were soon disrupted by something. He didn’t pay it any mind then, thinking it was a street lamp prodding through the curtains or a part of a dream he was already having.
Whatever it was, it started to get stronger. Little shawls of misty light were rising from the same spot, right by the piano, intertwining in a beautiful waltz.
The sheer amount of light suddenly appearing out of nowhere got James sitting up on his bed right away. He rubbed his eyes, but it didn’t go anywhere, more so continued to rise, beginning to resemble a…person?
The tightness in his chest was back again the moment he noticed it. The curly black hair.
An old fashioned shirt, hands, the hands adorned with rings.
He has to be dreaming.
Regulus?
It was him, unmistakably, it couldn’t be anyone else. He was opening the piano like he always used to do.
Is he going insane?
James was frozen in awe and utter confusion, eyes wide open and glossy as the faintly glowing silhouette of Regulus started to play the very melody that caused him to lose his composure earlier. Every tone stung like a needle, deep in the flesh.
He recognised where his trumpet part would start, where he would start singing…he watched intently as Regulus’ pale fingers played the piano solo.
Once it came to the very last notes, James wanted to get up and scream, cry, anything to make this illusion stay for longer.
Stay here, my love.
Make me believe all that was real, for I fear I’ll lose my sanity if you don’t.
The strange figure looked directly at him with sad, pleading eyes, as if it wanted to talk but it couldn’t, until it slowly split back to small bits of light, and then back to nothing.
The room was dark brown and blue again.
…
The light was hitting his face so fervently he had to open his eyes. He blinked, then again, and again. It took a few moments of blinking and looking around for him to realise where he was.
He hadn’t dreamed of Regulus in a few months now, he managed to block everything out, along with all the grief left inside of him. He didn’t know what to do with it. He couldn't do anything about it at the time, he had to support Sirius, be strong for him, take care of him…
James fixated on helping his best friend so strongly he truly started to believe he didn’t deserve to cry at all after that first week. He built a wall in himself without ever realising he did it. That, however, made this sudden reappearance of all the memories he locked up deep, deep inside his brain, more painful than anything he ever felt before.
Get up. Get dressed. Try eating. Fail at eating. Sit on the bed and stare.
It was like no time had passed.
He was pointlessly walking around his apartment for the third time when he finally noticed it.
Forget-me-nots. Laid out on the closed piano in a small, neat bouquet, they were definitely there. And James definitely didn’t put them there the previous night. He was very sleepy and overall weary but not enough to forget something like that.
Could it be…?
No, that wasn’t possible. Dreaming was one thing, but supernatural forces leaving flowers of the same colour as your dead lover's eyes lying around? Maybe he really was losing his mind after all.
Running his fingers across the petals first, he picked them up.
What does this mean?
No answers seemed to make sense, but one thing was clear after all. Everything that happened, the song, the look.
All of that was real.
He had to get out of there.
James ran out to the street and began to walk. He didn’t know where to, what direction…he just had to go as fast and far as humanly possible. It was after three blocks when he realised he had forgotten his scarf.
The wind was getting to him more and more each minute, turning his cheeks and nose red and eventually driving him to a small café.
It was fairly empty, understandably so at this hour, the interior mostly green, with cosy armchairs to sit in. He settled into one of them and promptly zoned out.
“Sir? Are you okay?” a voice behind him has kicked him back to full consciousness. He nodded and turned to see a red-haired girl, freckles splattered all over her cheeks and a concerned expression on her face. She didn’t look quite convinced but thankfully didn’t ask any more questions.
“Have you picked something already?” he just looked at her, his mind in a blur again.
“I…I could just make a drink I think you’d like so you don’t have to pick if you want?” she smiled.
James noticed she had dimples.
He smiled back and nodded again. He would like that. Very much. Soon, she brought back a big mug, the top sprinkled with cinnamon.
“Here you go, sir.” She put his drink on a little table next to the armchair.
“It’s James. Ma’am.” He looked up and grinned at her. She giggled and shook her head.
“Lily. It’s Lily.” Her eyes were so green he wondered how he hadn’t noticed it before, and they were sparkling with amusement.
“LILY, THERE’S CUSTOMERS!” someone yelled from the front. Lily jumped up and smiled apologetically, rushing back to work.
James took a first sip of the surprise drink and it was everything that he needed. Sweet, but not too sweet, spiced and warm. He held the mug with both hands as he drank it, and his mind finally settled for blanking out for a while.
When he finished his drink, he started looking around for Lily, or anyone else who he could pay and go back. Running out so suddenly, he completely forgot he still had to practise several pieces before it was too late to play the trumpet in an apartment building. Noone seemed to notice him, so he decided to get dressed and go to the cash register rather than wait for longer.
It ended up being the pretty redhead at the register again, so he handed her a 10-quidbill.
“For the drink. And the surprise too, it was exactly what I wanted, and somehow, you knew. So thank you, really. You can keep the change.” He smiled at her for one last time before walking out.
“Wait!” she ran out on the street after him.
“I really don’t do this, ever, but…here-” Lily pressed a small piece of paper into his palm before swiftly making her way back to the café. When he checked what it was, it said a telephone number and a little heart in round, pretty handwriting.
James just stayed there for a minute or two with a dumb smile on his face, before turning the right direction and heading home.
In just a few minutes he already noticed a few snowflakes falling onto his coat. By the time he got back, it was snowing heavily and all of his clothes were covered in white crystals.
He changed to something more comfortable and took to watching the snow fall through the living room window. Big, fluffy lumps of snow were continuously falling from the sky, one after another. The note from Lily was left on the kitchen table, he wasn’t too sure about actually calling so he left it for his future self to decide.
Before he could start falling asleep, he took his trumpet out of the case and started to practise. He had some classics to dust off for a jazz night in a town over, and so he started with I fall in love too easily, then continued it with Bye, bye blackbird and Hello Dolly.
He remembered them much better than he thought, so he played them lightly, with half-lidded eyes, enjoying every note.
Then, he heard it again. The first notes of Almost blue ran through him like electric shocks. They were coming from his room. He walked in immediately, and even though he knew what he was going to see, the milky, blurry silhouette of Regulus took him off guard almost the same as the first time.
The playing stopped. Regulus turned, he smiled with the side of his mouth, pointedly looking at the trumpet James was still holding, before turning right back and starting to play from the start again.
James understood. Not a single word was said but he knew. He got ready and when his cue came on, he began to play the slow, tender melody.
Every piano chord intertwined with the bright notes of the trumpet, embracing each other and slow dancing towards Regulus’ piano solo.
The end of the solo melted into James’ soft singing.
Almost blue
Oh, how they never got to play this together.
Almost doing things we used to do
He didn’t care if he was dreaming anymore. Regulus was here. Playing. They were playing together and that was all that mattered. Nothing else was this important in the whole wide world.
There's a girl here and she's almost you
He thought of Lily. Of the pretty smile with dimples on both sides.
Almost
She wasn’t Regulus. There couldn’t be another Regulus.
All the things that you promised with your eyes
I see in hers too
There also couldn’t be another Lily. And he wanted to find out more about her.
Now your eyes are red from crying
Almost blue
He was trying for his voice not to break.
Flirting with this disaster became me
The note lying on the kitchen table…maybe it was time he took the chance. Regulus glanced back at him as if he heard his thoughts.
It named me as the fool who only aimed to be
Almost blue
Regulus lightly nodded.
It's almost touching it will almost do
It really hit him then.
There's a part of me that's always true... always
His Reggie was gone for good, he couldn’t do anything about it, and for the first time, he made peace with it in his mind, as much as he could
All the things that you promised with your eyes
The first tear slipped out.
I see in hers too
Another tear, and more to come.
Now your eyes are red from crying
Regulus was looking at him again. James didn’t know ghosts could cry…
Almost me
James smiled through the tears.
Almost you
His darling.
Almost blue
Regulus finished the last few notes. Of course, he didn’t make a single mistake. He turned towards him again.
James nodded in his direction as a silent thank you. For everything.
Regulus nodded back, smiling fully this time, and began to split into fragments of light. It was actually for the last time now, James didn’t have any way of knowing it for sure, but he felt it.
The last bits of light found their way out of the window and flew right out. He ran after them, but when he got to the window, he couldn’t see anything anymore.
Meanwhile, it stopped snowing and the city was still and quiet, covered in a soft, white blanket.