February 21st
Floodlights flash across the stage. The air shimmers with exhilaration as the audience sing with us.
Behind me, on the drums, Peter has a look of pure joy across his face – an expression we all share. There is nothing like the thrill of performing. Over on my left, James was practically skipping around the stage. (Last month, we’d had to tell him to calm down a little after an accident that resulted in a new amp and guitar – one without a cable. Our manger was not pleased).
We all love this song: ‘Everybody Wants To Rule The World’. It’s from our first album and the one that made us realise that we could get to where we are today. We wrote it back before all the fans, when we were just playing in the school music rooms. But it’s Sirius who undeniably loves this song the most.
At that moment, I look over to him. The red and yellow stage lighting hits him in just the right way, showing off the sharp angles of his face and making his eyes shine. As he sings, it’s as if nothing else exists to him other than the music. He looks ethereal.
I advert my eyes, trying not to get too distracted.
~
Later that evening, after meeting fans, signing autographs, taking pictures and meeting with our team to iron out the last few details of tomorrow’s meet and greet, we finally make it back to the hotel suite. As we step through the door to the living room, we’re all still buzzing with the high from the show. James and Peter are talking excitedly, going over their favourite parts of the night.
“God, when the whole audience sung the chorus to ‘Heroes’? That was everything. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that!” James exclaims.
“I know! I think that’s the best we’ve ever performed that song.” Peter replies, his voice light with exhilaration.
“Oh, definitely,” James agrees and then looks over to me and Sirius, “Pete and I are going to make dinner. Pasta alright?”
“Yeah. Sounds good, mate.” Sirius says, as I nod in agreement.
The pair make their way into the little kitchen off the main room. After me and Sirius had set off the fire alarm too many times trying to make very simple meals, we all came to the conclusion that cooked meals should be left to James and Peter. Besides, growing up with Effie as a mum, James had learnt from the best.
I pick up my book from the coffee table, walking over and sitting in the armchair by the window. Sirius stays where he is, not moving. I glance up to him and find him staring back at me. He clears his throat a little, looking away, and leaves the room before I can say anything.
~
February 10th
The leaving party the night before going to America.
Music blared from speakers around the flat. I took a sip from my drink. Considering there was Dr Pepper in it, all I could taste was the vodka. My head was splitting with the volume of the music and the flashing lights weren’t helping. I needed to get somewhere quieter.
I made my way through our flat to the little balcony in my room. Stepping out, I took a deep breath of the cool February air. I walked over to the railing, leaning against it, and looked out over the city.
“Hi”
~
February 21st
Since we’d had dinner and it was getting late, I’d gone to my room. I have to be up early tomorrow, but I just can’t sleep. I walk over to my guitar stand and pick up my acoustic. Although I play bass for the band, I can play guitar too. I’m by no means as good as James or Sirius but I play well enough to write songs. We all write actually. In fact, the mix of styles is one of the things that helped us gain popularity.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I start to strum. Randomly at first, but slowly it slips into a song that I’ve been working on for a while.
Under my breath, as to not wake anyone, I start to sing, “I've been blossoming alone over you. And I hear my heart breaking tonight” The soft sound of guitar strings fills the silence of the hotel room. “I hear my heart breaking tonight.”
It’s still a work in progress but it’s not like I’d show the others anyway. Not this one, it’s too personal. I think they would work it out. It’s not exactly difficult to.
“Do you hear it too?” I strum the final notes.
~
February 22nd
Today blurs by. We’re out of the hotel by 7am and on the other side of the city by 8. When we finally get to the meet and greet venue there’s already a huge queue around the block. We love our fans, and stuff like this is what makes all the travelling and long days so worth it.
One girl comes in, maybe 17, long brown hair in a plait. She gets a picture with all of us and we chat for a bit. Then, just before she leaves, she looks at Sirius and then me and asks if she can get a picture with just the two of us.
“You two are my ex-friend’s favourites. She couldn’t come today, so she’ll be so jealous,” the girl laughs light-heartedly.
We glance at each other. There’s a wariness to our shared look, an uncertainty to proximity, but neither of us could exactly say no, so we smile at the girl and agree.
“Of course,” Sirius laughs. The sound echoes in my head and I want to keep it there.
We stand either side of her and, without noticing, both of us go to put an arm around her shoulder. I flinch slightly in surprise and feel Sirius do the same but neither of us move away. It dawns on me then that then was the last time we touched – not even been the accidental bump of a hand or shoulder. That was the last time I felt the warmth of Sirius’ skin beneath my own. That was the last time we spoke any more than a few very brief words. I feel the realisation tug at me. God, I miss Sirius. I miss him lounging with his feet in my lap, the smell of his shampoo, the sound of his laugh. I had to go and mess it all up. Stupid. Stupid.
I smile for the photo. The camera clicks. Sirius moves away.
We say goodbye to the girl and James and Peter look at the two of us. We’re as far away as we can get without it being too obvious but the look they give us tells me they know something is up.
Peter starts to say something but then the next person comes in.
~
February 10th
I turned around to see Sirius leant against the wall.
“God, you scared me,” I laughed, “Sorry. Didn’t realise you were out here.”
Alcohol clouded my senses, but Sirius appeared crystal clear through the haze.
“It’s alright,” he smiled back. From the way he spoke, I guessed he was a little drunk too. “Got too loud in there.” He walked over and leant on the rail next to me.
“Yeah,” is all I managed before we fell into a comfortable silence.
I found myself staring at him but, as Sirius stared right back, I didn’t bother to mind. He was so beautiful. I took in every pour in his skin and the faint laugh lines around his mouth, his long eyelashes and storm-blue eyes, the soft pink of his lips.
I felt my face go hot and quickly looked away, thankful for the darkness that I hoped disguised it.
“The city looks so different in the dark. Almost peaceful - well, if you ignore the cars,” I said.
“I’m going to miss it,” Sirius sighed, dramatic as always.
“It won’t be long. Two weeks in the States and we’ll be back home.”
After a few beats, I let myself glance over at him again and found he was already staring at me.
“What?” I laughed.
“What?” he said cluelessly.
“Do I have something on my face?” I frowned with a smile.
Sirius shook his head, “No. I’m just thinking how lovely you look.”
I started to laugh again but there was no hint of joke to his words.
~
February 22nd
It’s 11pm and I’m sat alone in the main room in the hotel suite, once again reading in the armchair that I’ve claimed as my own, when James walks it.
“There you are, Remus,” he says with his usual smile. “Can I talk to you?”
I put my book down, “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to see if everything is alright. I noticed that since we got here you and Sirius…” He trailed off, “And then earlier too? Did something happen?” His voice was hesitant.
“Oh, that. It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it,” I forced a smile.
From the look James gave me, I knew he didn’t buy it. But I also knew that James had learnt by now that, if I wasn’t ready to talk about it, there was no point trying. James nodded and got up, calling goodnight as he went back to his room.
I need to find a way to fix this. I need Sirius back.
~
February 23rd
On today’s agenda is a TV interview and tonight’s show – the last of this trip.
John - the host - sits across from us in a purple armchair that matches the sofa we’ve settled into. He’s a charismatic man, older, in his late 50s, with a greying head of hair and a navy vintage suit.
“Hello, boys! How have y’all found America?” He asks with a smile and a strong southern accent.
“It’s been amazing. And we’ve loved meeting you all,” James says with his trademark grin and enthusiasm. All of it genuine. That’s why we all love him so much.
“And tonight’s your last show of the trip. Can those who missed out this time expect another opportunity to meet y’all?”
“Well, they may just be in luck. We’ve had something in the works for a while now and we can finally share it with you.” Peter says, “A world tour with The Valkyries!”
~
“Well now, I have to ask, James. I’m sure by now everyone has seen the pictures of you and actor Regulus Black – our very own Sirius Black’s brother – at that charming little café in London.” The audience cheers and John continues, “Do you have anything to share with us?”
James’ grin broadens, “I supposed you’ll have to wait and see.”
“Of course, of course! And what about you yourself, Sirius? Any American boys stealing your heart?”
Sirius is lounged on the far end of the sofa, one foot resting on his knee. Just for a moment I think I see his eyes dart in my direction, but he’s looking at John before I can think anything of it. “Oh, you know me. Like to see what’s out there,” he smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
~
February 10th
I looked right at Sirius and he gazed back at me. I felt something tug in my chest – a longing - and, before I could think through what I was doing, I leant forwards and kissed him. Nothing deep, the smallest graze of lips, and then it was over.
I watched him carefully, anxiety rising in me. And then lips rushed forwards and met mine. They were warm and soft, mixed with the faint taste of alcohol. My hands found their way to his jaw. Sirius pulled me close to him, his hands settling on my hips. Every movement of his lips was another firework in my stomach.
At that moment, the bedroom door swung open as a rather tipsy Peter clattered in, “Remus? Sirius? Are you in here? You’re missing James serenading Regulus.” He chuckled to himself fondly.
Sirius jumped back and we were suddenly at opposite ends of the balcony.
“There you are. Come see,” Peter looked at them, completely oblivious.
“Yeah, okay, mate,” Sirius replied with a forced smile. He wouldn’t look at me.
“I’ll be in in a bit, Pete,” I added, hoping to disguise my disorientation and rising worry.
Not once did Sirius look at me as they left the room, closing the door behind them. I sat down on the cold concrete floor, resting my head against the railing, as I felt my chest begin to tighten.
~
February 23rd
“Thank you, Texas, and good night!” I shout to the audience as we leave the stage after our final show.
Backstage, I grab a bottle of cold water and practically down it.
Sirius appears next to me, startling me a little, “Hey. Can we talk?” The way he says it sounds so nervous – so unlike his usual self – that all I can think to do is nod and follow him into one of the dressing rooms.
“I wanted to talk about what happened the night of the party. We were both drunk-” Sirius starts and I know this is my only opportunity to fix this.
“I’m so sorry,” I interrupt, “I should never have done it. It didn’t mean anything – like you said, we were both drunk. You just felt pressured into it, I know. I shouldn’t have done it. I know I’ve messed everything up but, please, can we just be friends again.”
Sirius goes to say something but just closes his mouth again. He smiles and nods.
I sigh with relief and smile back.
~
February 24th
As usual, it’s the early hours of the morning and I can’t sleep. Like muscle memory, I pick up my guitar.
“Do you hear it too?” I continue, “It's like a summer shower,”
I’m relived that we’ve sorted everything out. But I still find myself wishing he saw me that way. But I know he doesn’t.
“With every drop of rain singing I love you, I love you, I love you,” soft guitar fills the room.
But at least this way I get my best friend back.
“I could stare at your back all day.”
There’s a gentle knock at the door. When I open it, I see Sirius. One of my old band shirts hangs loosely over him.
“Sorry. Did I wake you?” I apologise.
“No, no, it’s okay. I was already awake – just got some water,” he holds up a glass, “I heard you playing. I like it. Is it new?”
It takes a moment for my mind to catch up, “Oh, yeah. It is.”
“Could I hear it?”
I’m too tired to think of an excuse so walk back over to my bed. Sirius follows, closing the door behind him as to not disturb the others. He sets his cup down on the side table and sits next to me.
Hesitantly, I start to strum but I don’t dare to sing.
“The words, the ones you were singing before,” he says and I tense, bracing for the worst, “who were they about?”
I feel his gaze on my face and, after a few beats, slowly turn to meet it. Instead of the anger or pity, I’m met with sadness?
“Sirius…” I try to explain, to ask him not to be angry – it’s not my fault I love Sirius. I mean, look at him.
“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. I hope everything turns out okay with them. I'm happy for you,” he says, almost disappointed.
“Huh?” is the confused response that slips out.
Sirius stands up now and I follow suit, “Don’t you get it? When you kissed me, it just felt so right. I thought you felt the same but you’ve made your position clear. I really am sorry – I don’t want to ruin our friendship - but I’ve got to tell you how I feel.” He searches my face for resentment but finds none. He takes a breath, “I love you, Remus. I think I always have.”
“Sirius…” I say softly.
“I’m sorry. I’ll go.” Panic starting to set in, he turns to leave but I catch his hand and turn him back around.
We’re stood close now. I look at each feature of his face: his dark eyebrows, perfect nose, beautiful eyes, soft lips. The ease in my expression must be clear because the tension releases from his shoulders.
“Sirius, the song. It’s about you.” I stare at him and then his lips.
I see realisation spread across his face. Then he reaches up and kisses me. Without the haze of alcohol every sensation is that much more intoxicating. I kiss him with the urgency of a starving man, finally fed. The space between us closes and, like puzzle pieces, we fit perfectly. It feels right. So very right.
I don’t want to stop but eventually we pull back for breath.
“I didn’t mean what I said before. I thought you were angry about what happened. I’ve loved you for years, Sirius,” I smile, still holding him close.
"I love you too," he leans in and kisses me again.