Sirius heaves a big sigh as he swirls the of rum around the bottom glass. He knows he shouldn’t feel this way - he got the life he’d always wanted, the life he’d always imagined. The boyfriend he wanted, the friends he wanted, the home he wanted. So why did he feel this way?
It’s these thoughts that plagued him while he wandered around the lonely flat, these thoughts that plagued him when he threw up his hands and stormed out, these thoughts that followed him all the way down the lane to the old grimy pub.
When Remus finished his late night of working and pushed his way into the flat, Sirius is sure he’ll be concerned and panicked as to where Sirius is, but he can’t think about that now.
The only thought in his brain is the same one that’s been echoing around for the past six months since their graduation: what the fuck is Sirius going to do with his life?
Not for the first time, Sirius wishes he could go back to their school days. They weren’t easier - not really, with all of his family issues - but they were different. More comfortable, in hindsight. Before they had all the complications of adult life, when all their decisions were made for them. He misses being able to wake up and know that his friends were going to be in the same room as him, and he misses the girls, and the pranks. He misses his youth. He can practically feel it slipping through his fingers like sand.
He wasn’t passionate about anything like his friends were, other than locking himself in classrooms to draw when it all got too much. It was easier for them, he guesses. James was practically attacked with offers from nearly every rugby club in the country. Peter had finally relented and inherited his position in their family banking business, moving to Newcastle to work. Hell, Remus had his dream job - screenwriting for some fancy film company that he’d been mooning over since they were about thirteen. And the girls, bar Marlene, had all decided to go to university. And where did that leave him?
‘At the bottom of a bottle of rum, apparently.’
Sirius looked up immediately, his vision swimming. Perhaps he was more drunk than he thought.
The woman in front of him was shorter than him, but not by much. Jet black curly hair just past her shoulders, piercing grey eyes, and a startlingly familiar pointed nose. If his vision wasn’t blurring so much, Sirius is sure he could place her.
‘Sorry?’
‘Ah, no, don’t apologise. I tend to be a magnet to people in crisis.’
‘I wasn’t apologis-‘
‘No matter,’ she said with a crooked smile. She observed him for a moment. For a moment, a look of recognition passed over her face, but it was quickly replaced with a grim smile. ‘You wanna tell me your name? Or maybe how you ended up here?’
Sirius sat up a bit straighter at that, suddenly self conscious. He must look like a real mess.
‘Sirius. Uh, Black.’ he couldn’t hide his wince at that. He never introduced himself with his last name. Everyone knew exactly what Black Corporations was - everyone knew about their exiled heir, too. He quickly blamed it on the drink, but it didn’t matter. The woman didn’t comment.
‘And how’d you get here, Sirius?’
‘I… walked?’
Her mouth tilted upwards at that. ‘I meant how did you, a young man in fancy clothes, end up drinking his sorrows away by himself on a tuesday night?’
Sirius frowned. He didn’t think his clothes were fancy. He tried to focus on what the woman was saying. ‘I’m not sure. Well… it’s complicated.’ He paused for a moment. ‘Do
you ever feel like the luckiest person in the world, but also the most useless person too?’
The woman didn’t respond for a long moment, she just stared at the old, dirty bar.
‘I’m sorry,’ Sirius cleared his throat. ‘That was too much for a stranger.’
‘No, no. It’s alright. I think everyone feels that way sometimes. But I feel like i’ve got to ask… why? Are you not the person who has everything?’
Sirius laughs at that. ‘Sure. I have so much - everything I ever wanted, really. But… I don’t know. I still don’t feel fulfilled? Is that the right word? All the people in my life are so amazing. They deserve all the good things they have. But part of me is jealous, I guess?’
She pursed her lips, her eyebrow twitched slightly. She looked so familiar in that moment, Sirius was sure they’d met before. Her voice broke him out of his thoughts.
‘How are you jealous?’
‘Huh?’
‘I mean, how are you jealous of your friends? Do you not think you deserve the good things too?’
Sirius let out a small laugh. ‘It’s not that. Well- I mean. Oh, I don’t know. I’m jealous because they all seem to have it so figured out. They’ve got their things that they love, careers that they’re passionate about, they have so much to show for their lives. And what do I have? a few drawings? A few paintings that gather dust in James’ garage?’
‘So it’s a career you want, then?’
‘No! I just- I want to feel useful. I want to make the people in my life happy. I don’t want to be a disappointment.’
He looked up. She looked so incredibly sad in that moment. Like she knew something that he didn’t, something that he couldn’t know. She looked furious for a moment, too, but it quickly drained into something much, much deeper.
‘I don’t think you’re a disappointment, Sirius.’ She said quietly.
‘But you don’t know me,’ he replied desperately.
‘I know I don’t.’ She said. ‘I know.’ She wouldn’t meet his eye.
Sirius fell silent for a moment, then downed the remaining contents of his glass and waved the bartender down for another.
‘You want?’ He asked. ‘I’ll buy.’
‘No thanks,’ she replied. ‘I don’t drink.’
‘And why’s that?’ He said, turning to face her.
‘Ah, well, my mother had a problem with it. Turned her nasty, to say the least. And when she wasn’t drunk, my father was. He wasn’t as bad, my father. But he wasn’t pleasant either.’
Sounded a lot like his own parents, Sirius thought.
‘I thought to myself the first time I drank,’ She continued, “If i start this, I don’t think I’ll ever stop.’ So I never drank again.’
‘Smart.’ Sirius thought about all those late nights when Remus was working on his scripts. Those late nights where one drink turned into five, and by the time Remus opened the door, he’d be wasted on the sofa. He’d told Remus that being drunk was better than being a left alone with his own thoughts, and Remus had told him he was a pig. He deserved that, in hindsight. He could be a bit of a mess when he was drunk.
The bartender slid another drink in front of him.
‘So what are you gonna do, then?’ The woman asked him. ‘Surely not get drunk at the pub every night?’
‘Ah, well, I don’t know.’
‘What about the paintings? You always loved painting.’
‘How’d you know that?’ Sirius said, suddenly looking up.
The woman’s expression didn’t move an inch. ‘Just a guess. You mentioned painting earlier.’
If he’d been more sober, perhaps he’d notice the slight hint of panic in her eyes. But then, he’d never quite grasped the eye for detail that his brother had. He wonders for a moment what Regulus would do if when could see him now, how disappointed he’d be. Just like the rest of them. He squashes the thought quickly. Nothing good ever comes from dwelling on Regulus. The guilt crushes him every single time.
‘Mm, well, my boyfriend - his names Remus - he thinks I should sell them, but I think they’re… well, they’re not worthy of being sold.’
‘And why’s that? Do you not like your paintings?’
‘Oh, no, not really. Don’t like looking at them too long. They give me a headache. Bit personal, and all that.’
‘I’d buy them.’ The woman says softly.
‘Really?’ He asks. ‘Why?’
‘I like art. My brother taught me how to see it through the eyes of an artist when I was younger, and it opened up a whole new world for me. He showed me a world where emotions are easier to handle when they’re captured in one painting.’ She stopped for a moment. ‘Plus, I think I’d like to get a look inside your head.’
Sirius hummed at that. Privately, he didn’t believe that anyone would want to get a look inside his head. It really wasn’t a pretty place to be.
They fell silent again. The woman twisted a ring around her finger, and Sirius took a swig of his drink.
‘You don’t have to answer,’ Sirius broke the silence. ‘But can I ask about your parents?’
The woman said nothing.
‘Did they… did they ever make you feel like you… weren’t enough? Like, you’d try your best to please them, and they always expected more? And, well, you couldn’t be more?’
Her hand that had been fiddling with her ring fell still. ‘Every day,’ she whispered.
Sirius nodded. ‘I’ve had a long time to think about my parents. It never occurred to me as a child, but I don’t think it’s wrong to not love your parents. Now that I’m older, I realise that I never failed them. They failed me.’
The woman sat next to him, frozen. She’d started to turn awfully pale. Still, Sirius didn’t notice. His vision was blurring even more than before - it started to occur to him to call James to pick him up.
‘I have to go,’ She murmured.
‘What?’ He said, startled.
‘Somethings come up,’ She hopped off the barstool and picked up her coat, quickly pulling on the sleeves.
‘I’m sorry, I didnt mean to upset you with all my rubbish.’ He tried.
She stopped for a moment then, and placed her hand on top of Sirius’. That ring, he thought, I’ve seen it before.
His thoughts were interrupted. ‘You haven’t upset me Sirius. It’s all forgiven now.’
He was hardly listening. When he met her eye, he was confronted with the grey of his own. The dark curls. The tilt of her nose, of his own nose.
By the time he’d looked up, she was already half way out the door.
‘Wait!’ He called. ‘What was your name?’
She smiled then, one hand on her umbrella, one hand running through her hair slightly self consciously.
‘Regina.’ She said, and then she was gone.