Chapter 3
MARCH 23RD-24TH 2007
Evan had never considered much regarding Barty other than the fact they got along, Pandora liked him, and Barty was trying to shag him.
Somehow, though, he found himself flattered more and more, simply by Barty’s presence.
And he hated it.
Evan had never felt attraction for someone, not in the way he felt he should do. He found people pretty, would think about holding their hand or maybe giving them a hug; but he had never, ever thought about kissing someone, or going even further. And if he had? Well, it never made him feel the way he figured everybody else felt. It almost disgusted him - but then that thought disgusted him too, the thought that he wasn’t like everyone else in that regard.
Knowing Barty was trying to shag him was an odd feeling. Evan liked the appreciation, the idea that somebody thought he was attractive when he put so much effort into his appearance. The idea that somebody, other than his own sister, wanted to gift him with affection. But, for that very same reason, Evan despised him. Because Barty, in the two weeks they had known each other, made Evan’s heart flutter in a way he’d never felt before. Even just the thought of him made a crimson hue reach Evan’s cheeks, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. He thought his sister saw it, too; recognised the look in his eyes that longed for Barty, and recognised the flustered subtext to his forward hatred. Pandora knew, and that scared Evan even more.
It wasn’t until that initial two weeks was coming to a close, the core three walking out of the school gates together, that Barty turned to Evan, who was busy putting his headphones on, and spoke:
“Would you hang out with me? Tomorrow?”
Evan paused, and felt his face scrunch up into that familiar signal of disdain. “Like, a date?” He didn’t mean for all of that pure disgust to come across in his voice, but it happened, and even he almost grimaced at the sound of it.
“No! No. No.” Barty seemed almost panicked, and Evan kept regretting his actions more and more each second. “Not a date. Not anything like that. I’ll- I’ll bring my friend!”
“Friend? Singular?” Evan teased, rolling his eyes again. He hated doing that. It was like he couldn’t even control it, like some deep down urge not to be perceived as weak got to him; not that he fully recognised the implications of that.
“Well.. yeah. Friend. He’s cool! Mean- but.. Cool. That’s why you two would get along.” Barty grinned this toothy grin, almost childish, with a glinting silver tooth nearer the back of his mouth that Evan always, always caught sight of. It made his heart skip just that one beat, and Evan took a deep inhale to fight what would make him trip over his words if he tried to speak too soon.
He did slowly nod, turning his head away from Barty to keep walking. “Text Pandora. She’s coming too.”
Evan had always thought that maybe his attachment to Pandora was too much. Maybe they were a bit co-dependent, like one couldn’t exist without the other, like they were each other’s safety net, but also the very trapeze they swung from in the first place? He doubted it, always, because he loved his sister so very dearly, but sometimes he reminisced just a little bit too much on his mothers words, telling him that:
“Your mother comes before your sister, dearie. Remember that, yes? Remember my word always. You are Castor and Pollux, but remember that the only thing that held them together in siblinghood is their mother. Separate fathers, separate names, but a fate forever intertwined due only to their mother.”
Evan tears up everytime he recalls it.
Nevertheless, Pandora accompanies him almost everywhere. They bask in the label of ‘inseperable’, rejoice in the descriptor of ‘creepy’.
And she’d accompany him to this ‘hangout’, too.
They were just given an address, and an instruction to bring some drink, so when they arrived, it seemed as though it was supposed to be a surprise. Was Evan surprised? No, why would he be? The whole place was very, very ‘Barty’. A grungey underpass, covered ceiling to floor in graffiti, with the everlasting sound of overhead cars and buses, muffled almost entirely by the concrete stuck between them. It’d been raining outside, dreary late March British weather, so the cover gave room for Pandora to finally pull down the umbrella that covered both of them, patterned with oranges and yellows just as it suited her.
With Barty, Evan noticed immediately, was a boy taller than him, a sharp jaw and dark, loosely curly hair. Evan felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest, a tightening, and then a loosening, and for a moment, he found it hard to breathe. They were sat right next to eachother. This boy had his side right against Barty’s, as if attempting to conserve heat, and the two were sharing a cigarette. Evan looked on with such scorn that Pandora must’ve realised, as she took his hand, and gave it a gentle rhythmic squeeze, almost their own version of morse code, reminding him to breathe. Evan couldn’t. The pure cheek Barty had to bring him here, after so long of Evan feeling like Barty truly liked him, wanted him - Here they were.
“Rosie!” Barty called, suddenly standing up and opening his arms. “Pandora. Finally. What time is it?” He looked to the boy, who was slowly standing up, checking a digital watch on his wrist.
“5:03.” He responded, short, but obviously well spoken, and Evan almost sneered.
Barty paused, frowning at Evan, but watching Pandora let go of his hand and rush over to greet the newcomer with open arms. He paused, though, and almost as if she’d read his mind, and let her arms drop, but maintained her smile and stuck her hand out to shake, instead.
“Pandora, Pandora Rosier.” She tilted her head to the side a little bit, leaving Evan stood stock still. “It’s nice to meet you!”
Her warmth seemed to dull this boy a little bit, seemed to blunt his sharp edges. Almost as if the warmth of her presence had melted his metal casing and allowed him to open up some. He glanced at Barty, who glanced back and gave him an almost solemn, serious nod, before he responded. “Regulus, Regulus Black. It’s lovely to meet you.”
Evan recognised that name somewhere. It seemed Pandora did too. Just as Barty and Regulus had, they shared a look, and both seemed to come to the same conclusion.
“I think my father does business with yours.” Pandora and Regulus spoke in sync, and Pandora let out a giggle; which Evan noted had made Regulus’ lips tug upwards in a smile, before his face solidified again.
When Evan moved his focus from the two, he saw Barty’s eyes on him, almost a cautious look in his eyes. When Barty started to make his way over, Evan tensed, and rolled his eyes. “What?”
“He’s nice, I promise.” Barty nodded, fidgeting with his hands. He was.. Nervous? Evan had never seen Barty nervous before. “I know he doesn’t seem it, but he is nice. He’s.. like you, I think, he’s not used to it, he’s not used to the like.. The non-formalities of it all. I promise you, he’s nice.”
Barty’s desperation for his friends to get along burrowed deep inside of Evan, and bubbled upwards and upwards as he continued to speak, rambling over nothing, rambling out his inward feelings in a way that, if you didn’t know him, you would never realise he was anxious. When those bubbles reached his lips, Evan couldn’t control himself. He felt guilty. Without thinking, he walked straight over to Regulus, who was now in pleasant conversation with Pandora about her silver earrings, regarding that they’re her family crest, and that her brother had matching ones.
“See? Silver!” Pandora pointed to Evan’s ear, and Evan gave her a gentle smile.
“Yeah, parents got us them when we were younger.” He hummed it, and reached his hand out in an identical fashion to how Pandora had. “Evan, Evan Rosier.”
“We’re twins.” they spoke in sync, before Pandora broke out into a small fit of giggles, Evan laughing softly with her.
Barty groaned, shaking his head and sitting back down where he had been. “They do that. It’s fucking creepy.”
Despite Barty’s clear disliking of it, Regulus seemed to find it quite amusing. He didn’t laugh, but he let out a short breath that could almost pass as one. With every moment he made, Evan seemed to look closer and closer at him. He was dressed almost entirely in black, long legs encased in black trousers, black platforms, a black hoodie, and a black leather jacket that seemed worn, so much so that patches of it were sewn together, held so by other materials. Regulus seemed to wear it with such pride, with such honour that he’d hiss and bite at any who tried to touch it.
There was a moment of pause, of almost awkward silence, before Barty did what Evan realised he had always done, and filled it.
“Right, are we drinking or not?”
Before Evan knew it, the four were drinking, all sat in a circle together, his legs crossed with one on top of Pandora’s, who of course had taken the spot next to him. They weren’t tipsy, not yet, but Evan understood the mutual want to get drunk within a life they all seemed to live, with rich parents with such high and mighty expectations of them all.
Throughout their talks, Evan seemed to warm up to Regulus just as Pandora had. Under the veil of politeness, and with forceful forgetting of Walburga and Orion Black, and how much they had deeply terrified him as a child, Evan found that he related to him in a way he’d never known before. Regulus was so shut off, so turned in on himself, that Evan wanted to slowly pick him apart, to peel back every layer of him until he found his core, to truly understand. He was so intrigued, but he knew to keep back until he was allowed, until Regulus’ outward petals began to wither and wilt, inviting Evan inwards.
It wasn’t until Evan, a notorious lightweight, or as notorious you can be when your only real friend is your sister, reached his third drink, that Barty perked up.
“Shit, I forgot! Hold on, hold on-” He scrambled upwards, and then the few steps distance toward his bag, before picking up an odd-shaped package Evan hadn’t thought to look at for too long. “Here.” he handed the package over to Evan, who was already feeling heat in his cheeks from the alcohol, but Barty’s gentle treatment of him excelled this even more.
He didn’t even think about the formalities, think about thanking him or gently opening it, didn’t even think to insist he never had to get him a gift. But, after opening it, after tearing apart the cardboard covering, Evan, deep down, knew he owed Barty no thanks. He owed him this.
“Shit!” Evan called, hearing the echo from their empty surroundings, calling the curse out into the open. “Fucking finally!” He laughed, a loud, barking laugh, unfiltered due to his mild intoxication, staring at the gift with open and cheery eyes.
A skateboard. A brand new skateboard. It excited him deeply, made his chest flutter and flounce. “Fucking hell, Barty. How much did this cost you? Fucking, shit, this would’ve taken me so long saving up-” Evan was rambling, not that he noticed, tracing his fingers across the gritted side, before turning it over to look at the back. It was customised, showing detailed art of a bear, open-jawed and fierce, brown fur coating it, spit exuding from it’s mouth as if letting out a great bellow, a roar of impending danger. Evan loved it. It was better than his last, that’s for sure, it felt more like himself.
“I got you new wax and everything, I know that’s important.” Barty was grinning, proud of himself. Over the last two weeks, they’d visited the skate park twice more since Barty’s incident; and he had learned. Not about actually skating, not physically, but about the tools of doing so. Waxing your board, not skating in the rain (in fear of board rot), and most of all; that everyone at that park helps each other, teaches each other, and congratulates one another when they improve. Evan had known from his face that Barty both loved, and hated, that idea.
“Seriously?” Evan looked up at him, eyes glistening with the joy, lit only by streetlight. “Thank you, Barty.” It felt sincere. Entirely sincere. And Evan meant it that way.
A few more drinks in, and Barty had an idea. A ’brilliant’ one, in his words, though both Evan and Regulus had doubted this from the minute that it was obvious from his facial expressions that he was thinking at all.
“Don’t hurt yourself.” Regulus had told him, and Evan had laughed, laughed so hard his sides hurt, because Regulus was right. And he was mean. And he was funny about both of those facts.
“Watch it, Black.” Barty had groaned, rolling his eyes. “It’s a good one, I swear on it.”
Regulus was draped over Evan’s lap at this point, head on his legs, his own legs going in one direction, and Evan had his head on Pandora’s legs, who was sat up and cross-legged, not having drank as much as any of the others. Evan didn’t mind it at all. It felt homely. He loved that he felt sandwiched, warm, that he could feel Regulus and Pandora moved as they laughed or the hum of their body as they spoke. Regulus had warmed quick, just as quick as Evan had; and secretly, both were hoping this would last, rather than be an intoxicated-only friendship.
“Listen, listen.” Barty seemed irritated at the fact nobody seemed to be listening to him, but it was just as obvious that it was simply from his drunkenness. “I vote, we play a little bit of confessions. It’s the best game when you’re drunk, because-” He gently tapped Regulus’ nose, being met with a furrowed look of itchiness, Regulus bringing his arm up to wipe his nose with his sleeve. “No one has to remember it! Isn’t that right, Reg?”
“Regulus. And I’m not drunk enough to not remember.” Regulus seemed to sober far too quick for Barty to not have hit a soft spot. His scowl was back, fresh with a new layer of ice, though he was clearly chewing on the inside of his cheek; Evan recognised that because he did it himself, when he was anxious.
Luckily for all three, Pandora jumped in before Barty and Regulus took each other to the floor with fists flying all round. “I smoke weed. A lot of it.”
“That doesn’t count!” With a whine, Barty threw his arms up in the air in overexaggerated defeat. “Evan definitely knows that.”
“He knows everything about me.” Pandora hummed, very matter-of-fact. “You’re not going to get anything out of me that he doesn’t know, because he knows it all.”
Barty paused, thinking about it, before huffing defeat and rolling his eyes. “Right then, fine. Evan, your go - do not say that you smoke weed.”
Evan was about to open his mouth, and protest, but Regulus cut in. “No, no, I’ll go. Since you want me to so badly.” He took a few deep breaths, as if stringing together the sentence in his mind. “I don’t hate my brother.”
Having no clue what that meant, or the significance it held, both Rosier twins looked at each other with complete confusion, before sharing a look that said ‘whatever’. They probably both remembered, sober, the existence of an older ‘Black boy’, and Pandora probably remembered him now, in her mostly sober state, but let Evan stay in blissful ignorance of the reality of it all; just to keep the conversation with as minimal weight to it as possible.
However, as they were having their inward conversation, Barty and Regulus seemed to be having their own. Evan couldn’t make out what their looks were conveying, but in the end Regulus sat up, and Barty gave him an awkward shoulder hug. They were separated quickly.
“Right, my go.” Barty nodded, taking a longer swig of his drunk that finished off the can. “My mum’s on her way out.” He confessed it as if it wasn’t an extremely heavy topic, pushing his can into the ground so it squished in on itself, collapsed with an awful crunch noise that made Evan’s teeth hurt. Pandora covered his ears for him.
Regulus didn’t seem surprised. Like he’d heard it before. However, Pandora, of course, went to offer her condolences, but Barty stopped her.
“All good. Don’t worry. She deserves to go out better than she came in, and all that.” Before anyone could stop him, Barty had opened another can, a final one, as he shrugged the weight of the conversation off his shoulders. “She was good. She is good, for the most part. Let’s her get away from my bastard dad.”
Silence lingered as Barty chugged the can in one go, one breath. Evan hated that it made his cheeks red watching him do so.
When Barty was finished, he almost seemed refreshed, like he had gone back in time and erased the moment from ever happening. “Right! Rosie, your turn.” He pointed at Evan, and as Pandora uncovered his ears, Evan groaned, struggling to find a way out of it now. He hated that, the idea of being vulnerable around someone other than Pandora. He thought long and hard, under the guise that he was ‘thinking of something good’, watching Regulus keep his hand on Barty’s arm, messing with the mountain of bracelets Barty wore on each arm; an even amount, which pleased Evan’s brain. The contact between the two of them did not.
“I don’t want to skateboard. I want to longboard.”
Evan’s final confession made Barty burst into a fit of laughter. Pandora too, though less loud and barking that Barty’s own.
“Okay, okay that’s good- that’s like, that’s like deep, and dark, Rosie. Well done.” Barty teased, but in the midst of his laughter, he gave Evan an overt wink, which made Evan’s stomach tie itself in knots. Without thinking, in a desperate attempt to rid of said feeling, he coughed it out, reaching into his pocket for his packet of cigs. Barty handed him a lighter without thinking.
The night ended with Barty taking Regulus home, though both weren’t exactly comfortable on their feet; stumbling together whilst attempting to hold each other up. Pandora, of course, took Evan home, who was insistent on trying his new skateboard before they got home. Of course, Pandora told him no just as incessantly, helping him up the ladder to their window and settling him into bed.
“Pandora?” Evan had asked, as soon as she was settling into her own on the opposite side of the room.
“Yes, Ev?” Pandora’s voice was as gentle as always, as warming to the soul as Evan always found it, like every time they shared space, and air, and time together, their souls became more and more intertwined, warming each other, balancing one another out immaculately.
“Mum always wanted me to hate you.” Evan told her, voice vulnerable and soft, as childlike as it had been when he first confessed to her that he didn’t like their mother, under a blanket fort they’d made in their fathers study; which Pandora took the punishment for when they were ultimately found out.
Pandora had faltered, Evan felt it in the room, despite how drunk he felt at the same time. No matter what, no matter his state, he knew his sister, recognised her movements and tone, her presence.
Before he could think too much about it, there was a dip in his mattress, and Pandora settled into Evan’s bed, laying down next to him. With Evan facing the ceiling, and Pandora facing his cheek, Evan could feel the sound of her voice hitting his skin.
“She wanted me to hate you too.”
Despite how quietly they were said, Evan felt the weight of Pandora’s words sober him some, surround his brain with such a capacity and mass that it felt he was being squished, encased in the words of his elder twin.
“We don’t, right?” Evan asked, suddenly hearing the vulnerability in his voice, the shakiness of his words, the childlike insecurity of someone secretly hating him behind his back. The childlike insecurity that never left him, no matter how much closer to adulthood he got. “We don’t hate each other?”
Evan felt, and heard, Pandora shake her head against the pillow.
“No, Evan. We love each other, more than anyone has ever loved anybody else. I told you that, didn’t I? I’ve always told you that.”
Pandora’s hand found his own under the covers, their fingers becoming intertwined as if muscle memory, as if they had done it so many times, the action no longer had to be thought about to be committed. It came naturally.
“Pollux and Castor make Gemini. Forever intertwined with one another in the stars. Our story has been told through generations, for thousands of years, and we are simply the current regeneration.”
Evan had been needing to hear that for a while.
Feeling Pandora’s smile light up the room, some, Evan squeezed her hand, and slowly, finally, let his eyes shut.
“Night, Panda.”
“Night, Evan. Sleep well. Sweet dreams. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
Evan’s final words of the night were a soft laugh that escaped his lips at his sister’s affections.
He always preferred it that way.