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Evan Rosier freezes halfway through a sentence and halfway through the door he slammed open in excitement only half a second before. 

He isn’t sure how to explain the view in front of him, isn’t sure how to understand it, isn’t sure how to react. His mind simply stops working, takes one look at his two friends in front of him and says “no”, turns around, sits down, closes its eyes, and dreams away to a peaceful morning. A time where he didn’t know what he now knows. A time where he doesn’t have a horrible, heart-wrenching picture etched into the insides of his eyelids. A time where he felt happy or at least content.  

Currently, however, he doesn’t feel anything. The anger hasn’t caught up with him yet. Neither has the sadness and betrayal, and if he could choose, he would never slow down, never let the emotions surface. It’s easier that way, easier to stay in a corner of his mind where nothing and no one can hurt him. Reality doesn’t exist. Not really. It’s a blurry dream or perhaps a conspiracy theory. It’s not real. The scene in front of him isn’t real. It’s a fucked-up and cruel deception, created by his sadistic brain. 

He doesn’t know when it started, but his head is pounding, like someone is hammering on the wall he has put up to protect his fragile little heart, like someone is trying to tell him how much of a liar he is. Fortunately for him, though, Evan lives in a mess of delusion and sweetly constructed lies and prefers to ignore the problem instead of facing it. 

He prefers to keep smiling, to keep going as if nothing ever has to change – but the truth is he can’t. The smile on his lips is an ugly grimace, and the excited little voice in his head is chanting “hi” and breaking his heart a little more with every repetition of the word. Because despite it all, Evan is still happy to see his friends, still happy to have the keys to Barty’s flat, still happy to make eye contact with a pair of shocked blue eyes, still naive enough to believe there’s a reasonable explanation. 

The key in his hand feels incredibly heavy, as if there’s a magnet on the floor, pulling it down, and the key – it tries to escape, tries to reach the floor, but Evan won’t let go. No matter how heavy it gets, no matter how much his arm aches or how harshly his nails dig into his palms. He doesn’t want to ever let go, even if it’s doomed to fail. 

Perhaps, if he waits long enough, his legs will eventually give away, and the ground will swallow both him and the key as if they’d never existed in the first place. 

It would probably be for the better anyway. Without Evan there wouldn’t be an actual problem. Nothing would be off. Everything would be perfect.   

Really, when you think about it, Evan is the problem. He's the weight that throws everything out of balance, making everything crumble and shatter like glass on stone floor. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, something expensive breaks, something he’ll never be able to replace because it’s unrivalled, one of a kind. He has cut himself on the pieces, can feel the wound bleeding and knows it’ll never heal completely, that It’ll always itch. A scar will be left behind, and sometimes it’ll even turn into an open wound again, bleeding so much it’ll threaten to destroy his heart fully.  

It's already breaking under the current weight, and Evan wonders if perhaps it’ll never survive for much longer in the end. His imaginary wall is already fracturing, and reality is seeping in through the cracks. His smile has finally dropped, and the key in his fist is begging to be dropped in the same manner.  

Let go of me, please.  

The words scuttle about in his mind, desperately seeking meaning and finding nothing.  

You won’t need me anymore . 

But it’s not true. Evan needs the key – needs it like he needs air. Despite leaving for France tomorrow, Evan can’t let go of it. Not now. Not ever. Perhaps, he can’t use the key when he’s away from his friends because he won’t be seeing them for a good long while, but the key is still Evan’s and Evan needs it. He needs it so much it’s to die over. It’s his promise to Barty and Barty’s to him, that they’ll find each other again in the future, that Evan will return, unlock the door to Barty’s flat, and Barty will stand there, waiting with a smile on his lips. 

So really, the key is Evan’s, and Evan needs it. 

“Oh, hi, Rosie. Didn’t expect you here this early,” Barty greets, stretching from he lays, shirtless and relaxed in his bed. A smile is tugging at the corners of his mouth, and Evan can’t help but notice how carefree and happy he looks. Next to him, Regulus looks like someone he’s just seen a ghost, and Evan has a feeling he might be said ghost. “It’s what- 9 am or something?” 

No one answers Barty, and for a second, Regulus and Evan just stare at each other, equally frozen and shocked, though for different reasons.  

Regulus’ black curls are dishevelled in a way that implies he has just woken up, and Evan knows he himself will never be able to achieve a so casually attractive appearance no matter how much he tries. Small red marks, resembling deformed flowers, are scattered down the hollow of Regulus’ throat, continuing underneath a t-shirt that is definitely not his. He looks so utterly rumpled, and still- 

Evan hates that even he can see how pretty Regulus is. Hates it, because it’s so fucking unfair. How can he be so cruel and yet so beautiful? 

A siren, Evan concludes. Regulus Black has always been a siren. 

The second ticks by, and Evan feels like it’s been far longer. His mind has had far too much time to pull itself together, far too much time to simply think and prepare for a bloody and teary confrontation. Regulus’ eyes are already shiny and glassy, and once again, Evan hates him for it. 

Barty folds his arms behind his head, and the smile he directs at the ceiling is enough to break Evan’s heart on both of their behalfs. His body feels like it’s just been shot, like there’s a massive gaping hole in his chest, and in an attempt at saving him, his heart is pumping out blood at double the normal speed. And all his organs know, but still none of them dares to tell his heart that it's useless and that the blood will be gone faster than water in a leaky bottle. Evan’s going to die, going to collapse in a pool of his own blood right there on the carpet in Barty’s bedroom. 

However, when he looks down, there’s no liquid on the floor, no anything to prove that Evan is shattering and falling apart, piece by piece. There’s only the constant tick of the clock on Barty’s bedside table every time another pointless second passes by, bringing all three of them one step closer to the inevitable end. 

It’s Regulus who breaks the silence first, his voice coming out breathy and strained – uncontrolled and so unlike himself .  

“Evan,” he whispers, more in disbelief than anything else, and those fractured pieces that are left of Evan instantly come together again, forming a massive wall to protect him from Regulus’ secret cruelty.  

This, Evan tells himself. This is the last straw. This Regulus won’t be able to fix. None of them will come back from this one. 

“Fuck,” Regulus curses. He sits up in the bed with a quick movement, his hands clinging onto the edge of the duvet, covering his slim body. “Shit- Evan, let me explain.” 

“Fuck you.” Evan hears his own voice through water and he’s unsure if he has even given his mouth the command to speak. It comes from somewhere so far away that Evan can barely hear it, but no, that’s right. He's cursing at Regulus, voice cold, gaze stern, and mind blank. There are no thoughts in his head, no order, and Evan doesn’t know who’s controlling the rudder and making sure he doesn’t capsize. It’s all a mess, and yet Evan sounds so controlled, so careless, so cold –  

He sounds like Regulus. 

“Evan, I-” 

“No, fuck you ,” Evan interrupts. He lifts his fisted hand with the keys to point at Regulus as he steps forward, his expression finally matching his emotions now that they at least come rolling. “Fuck you, Regulus Black. Fuck you. You are fucking unbelievable. I- Holy fuck.” 

Evan stops in his tracks, halting himself before he does something he’ll regret, like crying or throwing a punch. Instead, he laughs, laughs without humour, turns his head to the side so Barty can’t see the hurt in his face, and laughs to himself. 

“ This ,” Evan continues, not knowing if he can stop himself once he lets something out. Once there’s a hole in the dam, the water won’t stop flowing until everything is through. 

The thing is, Regulus fucks up all the time – everyone does that. There’s just the detail that Regulus gets away with everything. Perhaps because he’s pretty, perhaps because he’s got trauma or perhaps simply because he’s good at getting away with stuff. It doesn’t matter why, though, he just does . “ This has got to be a new low – even for you.” 

“Wait what?” Barty pipes in from the sideline, clueless as usual. No one spares him a comment, and Evan desperately keeps his gaze locked on Regulus, who looks like he’s searching his head for a believable lie. Evan finds that he can’t stand being so close to him. 

“Evan, I’m really sorry, but I can-” 

“Do you have any idea of how many times I’ve let you get away with everything?” Evan asks. The words feel foreign in his mouth, like a spicy seasoning that won’t stop stinging on his tongue, like he’s speaking a language he didn’t know he knew. 

Regulus winces at Evan’s words, looking to the sheets before him and taking the accusations like lashes from a leash. 

“ I try to be a good friend and be there for you when you need me, and still – despite it all – you go ahead and pull something like this?” Evan snorts in disbelief. All at the same time, he feels like he’s going to explode into a million pieces if he doesn’t let it all out now and like he might fall lifeless and empty to the ground if he does voice his frustrations. “Out of everything , Regulus- Out of everything you could do- This is straight-up insensitive and mean, cruel – to the both of us.” Evan gestures to the space between him and Barty but doesn’t dare to look over at his awaiting friend. Not yet. “Like- Why?- Or no. No, don’t tell me why. I don’t want to hear whatever lame excuses you have.” 

Regulus looks like Evan has actually physically smacked him across the face, and Evan has to admit he wants to. Wants to scream with all his power, wants to cry, wants to turn around and run, with no intentions of ever returning. 

“I’m done,” Evan says, feeling his temper slip from his usually solid grip. It’s unfair. Regulus always does something hurtful, messes up in some way or the other, and everyone lets him get away with it, because he’s emotionally and mentally unstable, because despite what others might think, he’s the most fucked-up out of all of them. “I’m so fucking done with you and all of your bullshit. Trauma my ass!”  

“Woah, woah, woah,” Barty chants, slipping out from under the duvets with a hand reached out towards Evan like he’s a wild animal that needs to be tamed. Again , Evan thinks. Again, Evan is the problem, never Regulus . 

Barty’s only wearing a pair of sweats, and his half-naked body does nothing to soothe Evan’s anger. It’s yet another proof of Regulus’ betrayal. 

“Calm down, Ev,” Barty says, and Evan isn’t sure he’s ever heard Barty sound somewhat serious. However, he does now. “What’s happening?” 

Evan ignores him, keeps his attention on Regulus because- 

Evan’s mad. He’s leaving for France tomorrow, to-fucking-morrow, and Regulus knows. Evan won’t be back home before next year, won’t get to see his friends for a whole year. So, if Regulus wants to give Evan a goodbye-gift, Evan will gladly respond in the same manner.  

He knows it’ll ruin everything. That if lets his anger get a hold of him and yells every bad thing he’s ever thought about Regulus to his face, there’ll never be a chance that the two of them will reconnect when Evan comes back. He could ruin a life-long friendship – but no. Oh, wait. He can’t. Evan can’t ruin anything, not when Regulus has already beaten him to it. 

“Do you really fucking think you can just- Oh, wait, that’s right. That's the thing, isn’t it. You can . You can just do shit like this, and no one will raise any fucking objections.” 

“Evan, perhaps you should-” 

“ No , Barty, perhaps you should stay the fuck out of this when I’m clearly not talking to you,” Evan spits, finally turning to face Barty. Evan could go on forever about the double standards of Regulus Black, but don’t get him started on the subject of Barty Crouch Jr. “Perhaps you should shut the fuck when this clearly isn’t about you.” 

It’s a lie. It is about Barty. It’s all about him – whether he knows or not – but Evan can’t face both Regulus and Barty at once. Once he’s done with Regulus, he’ll come to Barty. Once he has let the anger out of his system, the sadness will come in the form of pathetic and unstoppable tears. 

For now, though, he’ll be as fucking insane as he wants to because tomorrow, it won’t matter. They’ll all have moved on. Evan can be as fucking cruel as he wants to because this time Regulus won’t be the only to get away with all of it. 

“Go ahead, Regulus. You want to explain? Go ahead and fucking do it. But don’t give me that family issues shit. I’m done with it.” 

Regulus opens his mouth, but no sounds escape his lips. A tear is stuck in the corner of his eye, and Evan can imagine how his throat might feel like one big knot, preventing anything from surfacing. It doesn’t matter that Regulus doesn’t say anything, though. Evan knows what he would’ve said. Regulus knows too. Even Barty knows. 

All of them always fucking know, yet no one ever does shit about it. 

“I knew it. Fucking called it, did I. You can’t. Because whenever you mess up , you blame it on someone else. Your abusive parents, your shitty brother, and if I gave you the chance to now, you’d blame them again. And again. And again and again and again. But I’m not going to. I’m done, Regulus. Take some fucking responsibility for once. Do what your parents couldn’t, Black. ” 

It’s a low blow, but Evan is too far gone to care. The line is erased due to how many times Regulus has stepped over it at this point, so Evan can’t see where he’s going – not that he cares. There’s no going back ever again. 

“Evan,” Barty says, his face is cold, with a warning shining in his eyes. Evan never knew that grimace would be directed at him. However, it feels good to wind up Barty too, feels good to know he isn’t the only one about to lose his mind. “I think this might be a moment where you need to think before you speak.” 

“Do you see it, Regulus? The second I bring it up, he’s ready to defend you even though he’s got no clue what’s going on-” 

“While we’re at it, please, do elaborate. Why are we yelling at each other.” 

“-so blame it on your parents. Do it. Perhaps that’ll make you feel better, you fucking coward .” 

Evan resists the urge to spit on the floor and instead tightens his grip on the key as he turns around, ready to leave Barty’s flat with the door slamming behind him. The metal is digging into his palm, and Evan finds that the pain is grounding and keeps him from dropping to the ground and simply shattering. He feels like a domino brick in an earthquake; if he falls, he’ll start a chain reaction he won’t be able to control. 

“No. Nope,” Barty says as if it’s all that simple. Evan can’t see him since he’s facing away, but he knows damn well what face he’s wearing, can hear it in his voice, knows him so well it aches in his heart. “You’re not doing that.” 

The second Evan pulls at the door handle, Barty’s hand connects with the door, effectively slamming it shut in Evan’s face. Evan doesn’t bother with trying to open it anyway and turns around with a sigh, ready to fixate his anger on Barty instead. Perhaps, after all these years, Evan will finally be able to actually be mad with him. 

“I-”  

Evan doesn’t get a chance to finish. 

“Evan, a few minutes ago, you barged into my flat. It’s not even 9 in the fucking morning, and you are yelling, throwing insults around, and you are making zero sense. You are not leaving before you tell me exactly what makes you think you're entitled to do so. And the reason better be fucking good.” 

Evan crosses his arms and refuses to look Barty in the eyes because no, he was wrong; he can’t ever hate Barty. No matter what, Evan will always have a sweet spot for him.  

Another humourless laugh leaves Evan’s lips, and at the moment, he doesn’t know who he hates the most. Regulus or himself. A part of him wishes it was Barty. It would make everything so much less painful and so much easier to leave behind. 

“It’s crazy, Barty. It really is. That someone can be so fucking blind.” Sometimes Evan doesn’t understand why he loves him, doesn’t understand why Barty can’t see it, doesn’t understand why it’s always Regulus and never Evan . “He’s manipulating you . He’s manipulating me . It’s all he fucking does. Fucks up and pretends to be stupid when he’s caught. He’s a fucking psychopath ! And you’re doing absolutely nothing about it”

“Evan,” Regulus starts. He's on the verge of tears, yet Evan can’t bring himself to feel any empathy. “I’m really sorry, I truly am, I don’t know why I- I just-” 

“Yeah, you just did, didn’t you? Didn’t really think too much about it because you knew you’d get away with it. Knew I wouldn’t be there to stop you, that I’d be in France. Knew Barty would let it all happen because he’s so ignorant.” 

Perhaps Evan could just not care. He'll be in France tomorrow, and then there will be no Barty and no Regulus. Regulus could play with Barty’s poor little heart because he owns it, and it would never affect Evan. It would all be so far, far away. Evan wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore – if he could just bring himself to not care. 

Deep down, Evan knows it’s not possible. Knows that deep down, Regulus is still his brother and Barty’s his one and only love, knows that he can pretend all he likes, but never leave them behind fully. They’re his best friends, he loves them, and now he hates that he loves them. 

“Evan, would you stop yelling?” Barty shouts. “Take two fucking seconds to explain to me – in an objective way – what the fuck is wrong? 

“Of course,” Evan continues, ignoring Barty and his own aching heart. Regulus has pulled his legs to his chest and hugs his body like a little kid being scolded. Evan wishes he would man the fuck up, so he doesn’t have to feel guilty himself. 

“When it comes down to it after all, you’re a Black. Just fucking proved that. Always putting your own needs before others, and screwing over even those who care for you, those who consider you a friend. And still, despite it all, you play the victim, fake some tears and look away.” Regulus doesn’t bother with looking up, and Evan is certain he sees at least one actual tear. “Drop the act, I don’t fucking want it. Laughing in my face won’t make me hate you any more. So, while you’re at it, why don’t you just – I don’t know – fucking hit me with a car. That way, you’d at least be proven guilty by others too.” 

Evan’s throat feels raw, and while it feels good to finally let everything out, he feels closer and closer to crying with every passing second.  

“Evan, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Barty snaps, stepping in in front of Evan, so Evan has no choice but to meet his gaze. “Calm the fuck down and tell me what the fuck is wrong at a normal fucking tone like a normal fucking person.” 

Evan rolls his eyes and moves to the side to dodge Barty’s attempt at placing himself between them. “I’m not talking to you right now, Crouch.” 

“Oh, we’re using last names, I see. Well, that’s just lovely, ain’t it?” Barty asks ironically, despairingly throwing his hands up in the air. He chuckles to himself as he turns his back to Evan and fists his hands around nothing but air.  

Good, Evan thinks, let him be frustrated . 

“And even now,” Evan continues, his attention flying back to Regulus’ lowered head. “I’m telling you that I’m done with your bullshit, and yet, you say nothing in your defence, ignore me like I’m not even here-” 

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Barty mutters.  

“-and make me look like a fucking fool. And that’s just how it always. Fucking. Is.” Evan stops, waits for the reaction that never fucking comes, and then continues. Because all he wants is for Regulus to act on his words. 

I’m trying . No, you’re not, Evan knows. 

I wanna be better. Fucking do something then. 

“I should’ve expected it. Really, I should. This is what you do. Hurt other people and then suddenly become the victim. You’ve always been the cunning mastermind who disappears at the end of the movie, getting away with destroying whole cities, because there has to be a sequel. I just never thought I’d be subjected to one of your cruel schemes.” 

Regulus knows he’s the villain, knows he’s not good, has expressed it on several occasions, but he’s that type of villain the audience loves. The one they make thousands of edits of on TikTok, the attractive, red-flagged man, the teenage girls love. But Evan... 

He’s also not the hero, isn’t good either. In many ways, he’s like Regulus. There’s just an important difference. Evan has never been a fan favourite. He’s the villain’s right hand, the one who’s made the same bad choices and mistakes as the villain but doesn’t win the audience's favour. He’s the one who ends up with the consequences. When the villain has run away, saved their own life, there’s always that one henchman left behind to take the blame, and that’s Evan. 

“It’s not a cruel scheme, Evan, I swear,” Regulus says, finally daring to get up and participate in the so far one-sided argument. His bare legs appear from beneath the duvet as he slips out of the bed and comes to stand by Barty’s side. "I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m trying to improve, but it’s fucking hard, and I messed up, and now I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry, I am-” 

“You can be as sorry as you want to, Regulus, I don’t care. You fucked up – again. Whether it was intentional or not.” 

It hurts to see Regulus and Barty like that, both half-undressed and so close to each other like there really is more than friendship between them. Regulus’ hand is brushing Barty’s elbow, like he wants to lean into Barty’s side, into his embrace. And Evan knows Barty would let him, that despite being confused by the whole situation, he’d wrap an arm around Regulus’ shoulder just like Evan always wished he would do to him and comfort him, blinded by love like always. 

It’s a curse. Love, that is. It’ll tear your life apart the second you let it. 

His whole life, Evan has been taught that you’ll just know you’re in love when you meet the one. You’ll take one look at them and be blown away by the force of the feelings. It’ll keep you up at night, and you will be sick with longing, but that was never how Evan had experienced love. 

It just happened. The world didn’t stop, and Evan couldn’t pinpoint the moment he fell in love with Barty. One day, Barty was his best friend, and one day, Evan wanted more than that. He didn’t know how or why it changed; it just did. Love really wasn’t that life-changing or mind-blowing. It was a feeling like all the others. Except- 

Now , Evan understands. Now, he understands why love will leave you breathless and contain all the space in your head – because it hurts. It hurts so bad Evan feels like he might stop functioning. His heart will give up, broken, shattered on the floor, and yet, he’ll keep on living, nothing more than a lifeless zombie.  

Love is by far the strongest emotion, but it’s not being in love that’ll affect you, it’s losing love you’ll feel. A knife in the chest and a free fall with no bottom. Losing love feels like dying, except there’s no peace, no rest, no endless blackness, only agony. 

“One of you,” Barty warns, pointing to Evan and then Regulus with a single finger. “Needs to tell me what the fuck is going on before I throw both of you out of here, and then you can all shout at each other out there. Is that understood?” 

Despite his stupid crush, Barty also gives Regulus a pointed look before continuing when neither of them answers. 

“Come on,” Barty says, crossing his arms and pressing his lips together. “I’m fucking waiting, and for the record, I’ve been doing that for quite some time now. Go on, Include me in your little private conversation.” 

“He’s using you, Barty.” 

The words come out a lot louder than Evan had intended them to be, and Barty’s green gaze instantly fixates on Evan. A frown sits on his face, and Evan absolutely despises it. He’s so clueless, so naive and ignorant, blinded by his own feelings, by love, and despite knowing that Evan would never lie to him, Barty won’t believe him. Evan knows, but still, he keeps talking.  

The dam has toppled, and all the water is pouring out. Along with it floats all the hurtful truths, and Evan can’t stop them anymore. It’s too late for that. 

“He’s using your stupid fucking crush on him, because, yes, he knows, Barty. He knows that you’re pathetically in love with him. He’s known for years, and yet, he’s never done anything. So perhaps, you should learn to take a fucking hint. Regulus could never reciprocate those feelings. He’s a selfish coward who’ll never want you the way you want him. Regulus doesn’t love you.” 

“That’s not true,” Regulus suddenly exclaims. The tears have dried on his cheeks and for the first time, Evan suspects Regulus might be willing to participate in the fight Evan so desperately needs to let his feelings out. “You don’t know anything , Evan.” Then to Barty, “I’d never do that.” 

Evan doesn’t give him time to think before attacking again. Because drawing blood feels good, breaking hearts and ripping friendships to shreds feels good. At this point, he’s so far gone, he doesn’t even care whose blood it is – as long as it flows, it could even be his own. 

“Then tell me what the fuck you’re doing because for me, it seems like you’re pretty much doing that exact thing.” 

“Barty, I’d never. I swear-” 

“Play the victim for all I care. You’re just like that family you hate so intensely-” 

Evan laughs to himself, feels manic and out of his mind, feels on fire and ice-cold. Dead and alive. 

“Evan, you need to watch your fucking mouth,” Barty warns, but Evan sees the doubt in his eyes. Sees how he’s starting to question the moral of the story. Perhaps Evan isn’t just insane; perhaps his explanation is more sensible than Regulus’. “One more bad word and I will personally drag you out of here and lock the door behind you.” 

A part of Evan wants to feel bad for being happy when Barty steps closer to Evan and therefore also away from Regulus, but the truth is he doesn’t. Not at all. All he knows is the excitement flooding through his brain as he too steps forward to meet Barty halfway. 

“You’re too blinded by your own feelings, can’t even see that once again, Regulus deceives us all by playing innocent. He-” 

“I don’t know what you think you know, Rosier, but if Regulus tells me he isn’t using me, tells me, and I quote “I want go on an actual date and try out some stuff like that”, I will fucking believe him. Because unlike someone else,” Barty pokes Evan in the chest to emphasise his words, but Evan refuses to back down, staring back coldly nonetheless. “He’s actually acting like a friend right now.” 

“You know, what, Crouch?” Evan asks because if Barty wants to use last names, Evan will use the fucking last names . “I’m happy that I’m leaving for France tomorrow because I don’t want to deal with you anymore. You want to fuck Regulus and get your heart broken? Fine. Do it. I won’t be there to pick up the pieces of your heart. I’m done being your friend. Done listening to you rant about Regulus, Regulus, Regulus . It's always fucking him.” And never fucking me . 

“Evan,” Regulus interrupts, his face twisted in regret and sorrow. “I swear I’m trying to do the right thing. This just wasn’t how things were supposed to happen.” 

“No, I bet you thought this would play out a bit easier. I wasn’t supposed to know at all, was I?” 

Barty pushes him the chest, not enough to actually make him fall, but enough to make him lose his composure and take a step backwards.  

“Get out, Evan,” He sneers. His hand is fisted by his side and Evan considers telling him to just do it.  

Punch me . 

“Get out. Now.” 

“No, I swear that wasn’t what I meant-” Regulus keeps on helplessly trying, his voice breaking repeatedly. 

“Lying doesn’t suit you, Regulus.” 

“Evan, you get the fuck out of here, do you hear me?” Another light push. Another careless expression. Another broken heart. “I said now .” 

“But you know what, Regulus? Fine. Go ahead and play with Barty all you like; I couldn’t give a fuck less. This isn’t even about him and you.” For a second, it seems to stop Barty from trying to direct Evan towards the door. As if there’s a part of his brain that finds meaning in Evan’s nonsense wants to know what else he can pull out of the hat. It gives Evan all the time he needs to tell Regulus the last few points, insults and truths he has.  

“I just hope you know that I won’t forgive you for this. Ever. That one thing I cared about – you ruined that. You were supposed to be my best friend, supposed to be there for me like I was there for you, but you weren’t. Fuck the fact that Barty and I were doomed to fail anyway, I knew that from the beginning. What I’m mad about is that you take advantage of it and use it. What am I to you? Dirt? I guess in the end my feelings never did matter to you, did they?” 

Regulus freezes with his mouth open, and the words stuck halfway up through his throat. His eyes are glassy, so beautifully sad, and finally, the words seem to have struck in the way Evan wants them to. A tormented glint appears in his eyes, and Evan thinks that after all Regulus does look shameful. 

“I-” Regulus croaks uselessly, and instead of continuing with the insults and attacks, Evan lets Regulus dwindle in the silence, suffer in the chaos he is to blame for. It’s painful how quiet Barty’s flat gets, and Evan cautiously clenches his jaw, retreating a step, careful to not break the tension he has left in his wake. A throbbing has at some point started in his palm where the key still digs into his skin. Perhaps, it has already drawn blood, Evan doesn’t even care to look. He’s too exhausted. 

“Okay, I give up,” Barty suddenly exclaims. He drops his arms to his sides and looks back and forth between Regulus and Evan. He doesn’t try to tell Evan to leave anymore, doesn’t try to pull Regulus in close, and Evan knows Barty has reached the point where he’s just desperate to be included, desperate to understand despite the costs the knowledge might come with. “What is it? Tell me what the fuck it is that I am too fucking blind to see. Because I still don’t get it. I really, really don’t. So, tell me. What is it? What did I miss?” 

“Fucking hell, Barty, I’m in love with you!”  

After the anger, comes the sadness.  

Evan doesn’t know when the tears started welling up, but suddenly his cheek is wet. And suddenly Barty is looking at him, looking at him like he actually sees him for the first time ever. His gaze is fixed on the tears before it flies to hold Evan’s eye contact. Evan isn’t sure he’s breathing, and he also isn’t sure Barty is. Next to him, Regulus is glancing up at Barty through the corner of his eye, looking like he’s trying to get a view of Barty’s thoughts – if there’s any. To be honest, Evan thinks Barty might not be hearing anything at all. That if Evan continues, it’ll be for deaf ears, because Barty can’t hear anything but the ringing in his head. Or perhaps he hears Evan’s words on repeat. 

I’m in love with you I’m in love with you I’m in love with you.  

“I’ve been in love with you for years.” Evan’s voice breaks, and more tears spill. Barty watches him like he’s stuck in a thick haze. “Regulus knows. Pandora knows. Dorcas knows. Everyone knows. Everyone but you .” 

It’s like a bomb has been dropped, but despite the first bang, there’s more bombers on their way. Evan isn’t finished. There’s still stuff left to inform Barty about, stuff Evan wants him to understand. 

“And yeah,” Evan snivels, helplessly wiping away at his eye. “I listened to you whine about Regulus. Listened even though I wanted to pull my own hair out. It was always oh, Regulus this, Regulus that. Always fucking Regulus, and I listened to it. All of it. Even when I wanted it to be me.” 

Barty blinks, opens his mouth, and then closes it again when nothing comes out.  

Evan has always dreamed about making Barty speechless. Just not like this. Say something, he wants to scream. 

“I listened to you rant about him like a love-sick puppy, while hoping that perhaps one day you’d realise Regulus didn’t want you and perhaps I was there too.” Evan is crying fully now, can’t even bring himself to care anymore. His two friends stand in front of him, blurry from tears, and neither reaches for him, both frozen in place by Evan’s sudden display of emotions. Evan doesn’t ever cry in front of them. That’s not who he is. And the fact that he is now has got to be enough to convince Regulus and Barty of how bad they’ve screwed up this time. “You kept on making up excuses for him, kept on saying one day and he’ll get better, but nothing ever changed.” 

Evan is sure now, his hand is definitely bleeding, and he knows he’ll eventually need to let go of the key to not wound himself even more. He’ll have to let go of it so he can examine the wound in peace and make sure it heals correctly and doesn’t leave too bad of a scar. 

“And do you want to know why nothing ever changed? Because Regulus didn’t want them too. He knew you liked him, and he didn’t like you back. He always made sure you never had the chance to start anything between the two of you because he didn’t want you. So, perhaps you get it now. Why I don’t believe that Regulus has suddenly one day woken up with feelings for you.” 

Regulus doesn’t try to interrupt, and Evan knows it’s because he has found the truth. 

“He didn’t love you, Barty. And I couldn’t tell you because that would break your heart. And that was the last thing I wanted. Because while all you ever cared about was Regulus , all I ever cared about was you . It’s always been you.” 

Evan meets Barty’s gaze willingly, letting him see the truth laid bare before him. Evan was always Barty’s - if only he wanted him in return. 

“Regulus knows. He knows that I’ve been in love with you forever, and still, he does this . Hopefully, that’ll explain why I’ve just spent the last half an hour screaming. I just don’t think it’s fair – for any of us – that he lies to you and sleeps with you behind my back.” 

Evan shrugs, finally looking down at his fist and carefully uncurling his fingers. A red stripe lies across his palm like a fine web, following the careful lines in his skin. It hurts when he moves his hand, and more blood oozes out of the small wound, but Evan finds that the pain and horrible sight is nothing compared to what he's already faced. Cautiously, Evan lets his hand drop to the side, the key resting on the tip of his fingers. One wrong – or right – movement and it’ll fall to the floor. 

Evan catches Regulus’ gaze, sizing up the boy he had once considered his brother, like he was an opponent. In some way, he was. 

“So, congratulations, Regulus, you’ve just lost a friend.” Regulus doesn’t react, but Evan knows the words must hurt. He’s just always been a good actor. 

“And congratulations, Barty.” Barty still hasn’t managed to snap out of his state of disbelief, and he stares at Evan with eyes shining with regret and shock. Like it’s unbelievable that Evan could be interested in Barty like that. “You have got to be the most oblivious and naive person I’ve ever met.” 

Evan curls his fingers around the key one last time – a last final goodbye – before throwing it on the ground in front of Barty’s feet. He won’t need it anymore. 

Barty and Regulus both stay frozen as Evan turns around and marches for the door. They don’t try to stop him, and Evan is glad they don’t. It makes it easier to move on. He has spent years trying to get Barty to follow him and, in the end, he never succeeded. Now that Evan is leaving for real and with no intentions of ever returning, Barty still stays where he is – right by Regulus’ side. And of course Evan expected it, but there’s still a part of him that hurts and probably will keep on hurting for a good long while.  

Regulus never loved Barty, but that didn’t change Barty’s feelings for Evan. Unfortunately, that’s not how love works. Evan can love Barty as much as he wants to, it won’t change anything.  

Tears stream down Evan’s face as he heads for the exit, his wounded hand curling around nothing where the key should’ve been. He misses it, wishes he had so he could feel its comforting weight, but he has let go of it, left it behind, and it aches. It aches so bad when his muscles spasm, and he can feel that something is missing – that something is not quite right. 

The door slams shut behind him, and Evan knows it’s locked. However, he doesn’t need the key. His chest might hurt from air loss, but he’s leaving for France tomorrow, so he has let go of the key. Once and for always. He’s going away from his friends, won’t see them for the next good long while, so the key isn’t Evan’s and Evan doesn’t need it. He’ll survive without it – has to. No more childish promises of finding his friends in the future. Evan won’t return, won’t unlock the door to Barty’s flat and see Barty waiting with a smile on his lips. 

Because really, the key was never fucking his. 

And Evan doesn’t fucking need it.