Frat house
The Previous Night
James' POV
Man, I feel like these guys could be my best friends.
James exhaled the smoke from his menthol cigarette with a crooked smile on his lips. The days couldn’t get any better when it was summer in Richmond, and every day felt like school holidays.
Lupin had put on some depressing shit on the speaker that James secretly liked, but couldn’t admit. The Smiths. The guys were sprawled on the sofas of their basically student frat house. The house that MTV had given them still didn’t feel like home, but it was enough for four guys who didn’t have the slightest sense of decoration.
James laughed at some stupid joke Sirius was telling, but all his jokes seemed stupid at that point. Sirius was naturally funny, which James found genuinely satisfying. It was almost like having a worthy competitor for the “life of the party” award.
Lupin also seemed more cheerful than usual, but it was probably the joint. The blond must have been on his third or fourth of the night.
Peter was fiddling with his deck of cards, trying to learn some trick that required too many moves for James to understand.
And the boy didn’t want this feeling to end. This peace that only a uncomplicated camaraderie could provide.
But yeah. The MTV execs wanted it to end.
“Man,” James said, suddenly sitting up and feeling his mind reel. “I can’t believe they’re sending someone to keep an eye on us.”
The guys had been informed the previous night by Frank, one of the producers. Frank was one of the only cool guys on set, not as freaked out as the rest of the crew, and the guys almost always communicated with him, even though it wasn’t really his job. From what James understood, Frank handled special effects or some shit like that.
Frank called the guys on Wednesday, letting them know that the production company wasn’t happy with the series’ pilot. When he announced this, the boys felt the mood in the room shift. James and Sirius took the lead in talking to Frank, though Lupin and Peter frequently cast guilty looks at the producer.
“Why didn’t they like it?” James asked, right after Frank’s warning.
“They don’t think you’re…” Frank hesitated a bit before saying, “Committed.”
“What the fuck are they talking about?” Sirius protested, leaning toward the laptop’s webcam. The guy sounded offended.
Frank looked at Sirius with boredom as he replied, “Dude, cut the crap. This production has fifty people, and all they can remember about you guys on set is you talking shit, smoking, and forgetting your lines.”
James shifted uncomfortably on the couch. He knew they could have been more serious, maybe. But he believed he was taking the job seriously. He had even studied acting methods. He was writing bullet points about his character, Aaron, in a notebook he kept by his bedside. And even though he had stumbled during the filming of some scenes, he was a beginner actor. Shouldn’t they cut beginners some slack?
“And now?” Peter asked, his voice shaky. “Are they going to cancel the series or something?”
“No,” Frank replied with a sigh. “You can keep going and shoot the episode again. But with supervision.”
“What do you mean?” Remus asked timidly.
“The higher-ups are sending someone from Public Relations to monitor your routine.” And when Frank saw their terrified faces, he added, “And yeah, this person will probably live with you.”
James felt a deep sense of indignation but didn’t have the courage to voice it. He looked at Sirius, who seemed ready to explode. Thankfully, Frank quickly said goodbye and ended the video call.
“What the fuck is this shit?” Sirius slammed the laptop shut with force.
“They’re treating us like kids,” James huffed, getting up from the couch and starting to pace, something he always did when he felt stressed. Peter laughed with indignation.
“They’re disappointed in us,” Remus said suddenly, and everyone stared at him in surprise.
Sirius looked at him with irritation, but Remus stared at his hands as he continued, “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m scared.” The boys didn’t interrupt him. “I can’t lose this contract.”
“Well, neither of us can!” Sirius said, his tone a bit defensive.
Remus didn’t respond to that. He just stood up and headed toward the hallway, grabbing his pack of cigarettes from the table in the living room and saying, “Look, what I’m trying to say is… I’m just going to accept whatever the fuck this supervision is.”
And so the boys fell silent, pondering whether they were indeed being childish with their reactions.
James had been anxious all night, and when he suddenly got up to complain, Sirius gave him a sarcastic look and said, “Last hours of freedom.”
Peter tossed his deck of cards aside and agreed, “This is the end of the squad’s golden era.”
Everyone looked at Remus, eager for his response. The guy looked at them, annoyed, and replied, “Look, I also think it’s all bullshit, okay? The last thing I needed was someone breathing down my neck and telling me what to do.”
James smiled in agreement. He knew that even though Remus was accepting what MTV had imposed, he wasn’t happy about it.
“What’s the plan for dealing with this so-called babysitter?” James asked.
“Oh, I have so many ideas…” Sirius rolled his eyes, a mischievous grin on his face.
“You’re looking at it the wrong way,” Remus said, waving the joint and smiling knowingly. “The question is: What are we going to do with these last hours of freedom?”
“Well, well, Lupin…” Sirius approached Remus and gave him a pat on the collarbone. “Who would’ve thought, huh?”
Lupin pushed his hand away, shaking his head in indignation.
“That’s the spirit!” James jumped back onto the seat. “Peter, grab Sirius’ phone! Let’s send out some invites!”
- - -
That afternoon, James returned from the market with bags and more bags of drinks, snacks, and sweets in the trunk of his Mini Cooper. After all, he wanted to throw one last great party for his guests.
When he opened the door to the house, he found Peter shoving the furniture around in the living room and Remus and Sirius sitting on one of the sofas, leaning against the wall with grumpy expressions. As usual, they were arguing.
“What kind of tacky crap do you want to put on?” Remus complained to Sirius, angrily gesturing at the computer screen.
“Why do you hate fun music, Lupin?” Sirius laughed at his friend’s irritation and casually crossed his legs. “Pop can be cool too!”
“What’s going on?” James asked Peter, who was sweating from the effort that, apparently, only he was putting into the preparations.
“They’re arguing about the music,” Peter rolled his eyes and wiped his forehead with his forearm. “What did you bring?”
“Oh, little Pettigrew…” James laughed and gave the boy a side hug. “Everything we’ll need, you can be sure.”
“You even brought Pop Tarts!” Peter smiled in surprise.
“It’s for when some idiot wants to puke,” James raised an eyebrow, and his friend quickly blushed. The last party had ended with Peter throwing up his guts in a filthy bathroom, Remus holding his head, Sirius taking pictures with his digital camera, and James just laughing at the whole situation. That night had been fun.
“OH NO!” Remus shouted suddenly. “JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE?”
Sirius could barely speak, he was laughing so hard, but between laughs, he managed to say:
“What… What’s the pr-problem, Lupin?”
“Hey!” Remus turned to James. “Give me a hand here.”
“Don’t look at me!” James dropped the bags on the floor and shrugged, enjoying the situation. “I’m against all the depressing music you put on the speaker.”
“I know that,” Remus replied, his eyes widening. He looked like a madman. “But are you going to let our party turn into an NSYNC concert? What the hell!”
“I think I prefer Backstreet Boys…” James replied thoughtfully.
“OH, SHUT UP!” Remus said, throwing his hand to the air.
Peter and Sirius laughed like children.
James looked at the living room, bathed in the dim light of the late afternoon, and all he could think was that he wanted things to always stay this way.