Another posh rich kid
Sirius’s POV
"Padfoot?"
A knock on the door. Sirius immediately recognised that hungover voice. He groaned as he pushed himself up from the bed, a sharp ache stabbing at the side of his head.
Bloody scotch.
And what the hell is Moony doing at my door?
Sirius pulled the door open and found Remus standing there, face puffy, wearing an olive hoodie and a pair of plaid shorts. His hair was an absolute state, and it was obvious he’d only just rolled out of bed.
"Moony?" Sirius raised an eyebrow, fighting the urge to laugh, his tone practically saying What are you doing here?
"James is blasting music again." Remus gave him his most unimpressed look.
"And what’s he got on this time?" Sirius attempted to be funny, but his head was throbbing too much for that.
"Adele." Remus almost smirked. "Can I come in?"
"Yeah." Sirius sighed, already desperate to collapse back onto his bed. "Grab my mattress from under the bed."
Remus just grunted in response.
Sirius shut the door, letting the room sink back into darkness. He liked sleeping and absolutely despised being woken up by daylight when there was no bloody need for it.
He almost wanted to be pissed off that Moony had knocked on his door at eleven in the morning, but… well, it was Moony. He was solid.
It was odd, really, how they’d ended up getting along. Sirius didn’t want to sound cocky, but he and Remus came from completely different backgrounds. He knew they’d never fully get each other. And yet, somehow, he reckoned they’d still have been decent mates as kids.
Remus was clever—cleverer than any of them. Even cleverer than him, and Sirius hated to admit that.
The hick took off his hoodie, revealing a grey gym-style shirt. He pulled out the mattress and lay on his back.
"Your room feels like a cave," he said after a moment.
"That’s because you haven’t seen Wormtail’s," Sirius huffed. "It reeks of puberty, and the only light comes from his computer."
"And yours reeks of cigarettes," Remus chuckled. "And yeah, I know mine smells like weed."
"What’s the plan when the warden finds out you smoke?" Sirius muttered, not really wanting to ask.
He didn’t want to talk about PR, but she’d ruined everything since she arrived. He and the guys had been doing great—more than great. They’d become proper friends in just a few weeks, and if that wasn’t a win in the entertainment industry, what was?
Sirius wasn’t dumb. He knew cast dynamics sold well. Everyone knew Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles’ friendship sometimes seemed a bit much...
But with them, it was natural. Despite being completely different, they just worked. It was the humour, the shared drive to enjoy the chaos and make the most of it.
And then PR showed up… and everything got unsure.
They’d tried messing around, pulling pranks here and there, but it wasn’t the same with her always watching like a hawk, constantly on the phone with her boss. Even Sirius’s mistake had been dealt with way too harshly, and he hated injustice.
He tried telling himself it wasn’t really her fault, that she was just doing her job—but why did she have to be so controlling? So determined to establish authority from day one?
"She won’t find out," Remus said confidently. "My mum never did, and I lived with her my whole life. What’s a few months?"
"Ugh…" Sirius rolled his eyes. "Just thinking about living with her for months!"
"Oh, come on," Remus chuckled, his voice sounding more awake now. "She’s not that bad..."
"She’s such a know-it-all!" Sirius realized his voice had come out sharper than intended and took a breath. He didn’t want to care this much. "I hate people like that—always acting like they’re better than us..."
Remus didn’t say anything, but Sirius knew exactly what he was thinking. He’d made it way too obvious.
"I’m not comparing her to my brother," Sirius said firmly.
"It’s alright" Remus replied, and then silence took over.
Now Sirius just felt like an idiot. A massive idiot.
He had already mentioned his family situation to the boys. One day, while they were talking about how they grew up, Peter asked about Sirius’s parents, and Sirius simply replied:
"I don’t talk to them anymore."
"What do you mean, man?" James asked, his mouth full of fried chicken. It was their second week of knowing each other. They had gone to the studio for costume fittings, come back home, smoked a few joints, and ordered fried chicken. Everything felt better than usual.
Ah, James—always the golden boy.
"We had a falling out." Sirius said, his tone naturally serious. Then, seeing the concerned looks around the table, he added, "But they’re a bunch of imperialist pricks, so no one really cares about them."
"How long ago was that?" James asked, still visibly concerned. He had even put down his food, now wiping his hands as he stared at Sirius from behind his glasses.
"About five years now." Sirius shrugged. "I got sick of their bullshit and left."
Now everyone was paying attention. Remus got up and turned down the music, and Sirius felt oddly grateful for the gesture.
"I’d mentioned a few times that I wanted to be an actor, but my father…" Sirius trailed off, a strange feeling creeping in, like everything was turning foggy. "He was a right bastard who didn’t give a damn about the arts and wanted me to take over the family business. As if." Sirius scoffed. "The amount of shit that company’s involved in…"
"With all due respect…" Remus started, a little hesitant. "But your dad’s company is in the papers every week…"
Sirius remembered how Remus hadn’t been entirely comfortable around him at first. He probably thought he was just another posh rich kid.
"And for good reason." Sirius shook his head, almost laughing. "My father never talked to me or my brother about that stuff, but we always suspected there was some shady shit going on…"
"Did he run away too?" Peter asked, looking almost embarrassed by his curiosity.
"Oh." Sirius slammed his hand on the table. "My brother was too much of a coward for that."
Peter flinched, and the others shot him a concerned look. Sirius stood up abruptly, grabbing his pack of menthols.
He lit one, took a long drag, and exhaled before continuing:
"My father got in his head." Sirius shrugged, his expression bitter. "He was always good at that."
"And what’s he doing now?" Peter asked, looking to the others.
"Studying Business at Cambridge." Sirius almost laughed. "It’s ridiculous… I remember Regulus wanted to be a painter. Spent all of primary school scribbling in his sketchbook. We even talked about it—he said he wanted to do modern, abstract art, but only in black. Thought it would look cool because of our last name." Sirius drifted off, his voice slowing. The room suddenly felt colder, so he took another drag. "But then our father started working on him after I left. Regulus even emailed me, asking why I did it. But when he told me he was going into business to take over my father’s financial empire, I stopped replying."
Silence settled over the room. No one knew what to say to something like that.
"But, mate…" James finally spoke up. "He’s still your brother."
"He’s a coward." Sirius repeated, the words coming out before he even processed them. "And he betrayed me. Now my parents parade him around as everything I wasn’t."
And then Sirius felt the weight of the silence settle over the room again.
Remus had probably dozed off by now, so Sirius stayed still for a while, not wanting to wake him.
"You were up to something in the club two days ago." Remus suddenly said, making Sirius nearly jump.
"Nah!" Sirius laughed at the way Remus had randomly brought it up. "Didn’t do anything wild."
"So…" Remus cleared his throat. "You and Mary… you know… are you seeing each other or something?"
Sirius found the question ridiculous. No, he wasn’t planning on marrying Mary MacDonald in some English countryside while fairies pissed glitter over them.
He and Mary had chemistry. Sirius knew her type—outgoing, but with that whole innocent act. Those were the worst. And Sirius liked confident, happy girls. He could have some fun with someone like that—someone who wasn’t a brooding mess like the ones at the high-end parties he used to go to.
"Ah…" Sirius brushed a strand of hair from his face, letting his hand rest on the pillow. "We just hooked up last night. Wasn’t planned or anything."
"Oh!" Remus sounded a little surprised. "Got it."
"But, honestly, having a cast fling wouldn’t be the worst." Sirius shrugged. "Might make up for how painfully dull half those people are." His mind drifted for a second. "Imagine me and Mary sneaking around in the trailers…"
"Alright, that’s enough, Padfoot." Remus probably had his eyes wide in horror, though Sirius couldn’t see him. "You dirty git!" He chucked a pillow at Sirius, who just laughed and let the silence settle again.
"And you?" Sirius accused. "What did you do all night besides smoke on that balcony?"
"That was literally it." Remus suddenly got up and switched on the desk lamp. The room brightened, a warm yellow glow spreading from it.
"As if." Sirius twisted his body to look at Remus, whose profile was now shadowed. "You’re not fooling me, Moony."
"Not everyone has to be a troublemaker!" Remus pulled a face and shrugged. "Hey, where do you keep your CDs?"
"In the drawer," Sirius answered, but then got up as well.
He felt a strange pressure as Remus looked through his CDs. He knew the guy was ridiculously into music, always listening to bands Sirius had never even heard of.
Remus opened the drawer and started flipping through them, a cheeky grin on his face.
"Sex Pistols… Queen, The Strokes…" He raised an eyebrow, seeming to approve. "Another Queen… Lady Gaga?"
"Uh…" Sirius casually ran a hand through his hair, but he could feel himself turning red. Oh, fuck it, he wouldn’t be able to lie anyway. "I think she’s cool," he said, trying to sound as confident as possible.
Is he judging me? Calling me a poof? Gonna take the piss out of me with the lads?
"She is cool, actually," Remus just said, his expression easygoing.
Sirius let out a breath.
"So, what do you wanna listen to?"
"Nothing too loud," Remus replied, then smiled.