Nameless Star
2018
James never in a million years would’ve thought that this would be his life. Doing what he loves with the people he loves the most in the world.
He always loved music, he could remember his mum sweeping the floor while listening to some music, or his father making dinner and listening to music. He would remember his parents dancing in the kitchen while he was eating his breakfast. At all times, there was music. He loved the way the music would take control of his body and involuntarily he would start dancing, but what he loved the most, is the power the words would have on him. He always thought he was meant to listen to the words at specific moments, he would feel like it went according to his mood. That’s how he decided to start writing his own songs, he had absolutely no idea what he was doing or if they even made sense (he remembers writing a song about a cloud that looked like a bunny, back then, he thought it was a masterpiece, now is just a good laugh). It wasn’t until he met his best friends that he knew he wasn’t alone in this.
James was eleven years old when he met Sirius Black for the first time, it was like friendship at first sight. There was nothing in the world that could prevent them from eventually meeting. It was like the lyrics of the songs he heard, they were meant to be. Sirius was meant to be James’ best friend. Later that same day, they met Remus Lupin, who was a shy kid, he didn’t seem to have a lot of friends and would only be with a ginger girl. And then, James recognised the other kid they were going to spend the rest of the school years with, it was a kid that lived down the road from James' house, his name was Peter Pettigrew.
It was until he was thirteen years old, when he begged his parents to let him go to guitar lessons, that he needed to learn how to make music in some way, his parents obviously accepted. When James told his friends the news, Sirius told them that he already knew how to play approximately five different instruments due to his mother's demand. They were all surprised by it, but to Sirius it seemed like it was perfectly normal for a fourteen year old to know how to play that many instruments. At some point that year, Remus and Peter also started going to lessons, Sirius helped them with some tips and techniques. When they all were fifteen, they chose which instrument suited them better. Sirius the bass, Peter the guitar and Remus the drums, while James wasn’t sure which one he preferred yet, he knew by then how to play the guitar (as the rest), the bass (as Remus and Sirius) and a little the piano (as Sirius), but it wasn’t enough. Something was missing. Before he turned sixteen, he knew what he liked was to sing, he never really thought about his voice as an instrument. He was thrilled when he understood he could make music with his own voice, so, naturally he started to attend singing lessons. His friends attended as well, they were having the time of their life playing music and singing in their free time.
They were seventeen when they started playing at cafes or anywhere they would let them play. At first it was mainly covers, songs they liked and enjoyed, then they started to play original songs, songs written by James, Sirius, Remus or occasionally Peter. And people started to like them, they uploaded their music to a YouTube channel they made and called themselves “The Marauders”.
That was barely the beginning.
And the eleven year-old James may have been young and naive, but he knew that some magic brought all of them together to lead them to the moment they are now. Even now, at the age of twenty one, ten years later, he still feels the same way about his friends.
They are becoming a known band, at least as known as to be able to play at small gigs and venues. Thanks to their label, they have already released their debut album and now they are on a small tour around Europe and the United Kingdom. The Marauders signed with a label called Phoenix Records, and now had an amazing manager that helped them get where they are. Right now, they are in France, they had a concert last night and today they have a free day to go around the city or do whatever they want. He begged Sirius to please go with him to see the beautiful city but he isolated himself. James understands that Sirius sometimes has bad days and often are triggered by something so he doesn't push it, he lets him be, he knows that when Sirius is ready to talk about it, he will come to James and he will gladly listen and be there for him. Remus stayed with Sirius as he usually does when he gets in that mood. Peter decided to stay in bed and in the morning to go see the city. So that left James alone. He doesn’t mind if he’s totally honest.
He wanted to go to The Louvre, but because of the hour, it would be impossible to enjoy the museum as it deserved, besides, they were closing soon. Instead, he just walked around the city. He took photos of everything around him. Growing up he had the opportunity to travel to some beautiful places with his parents and later also with Sirius, but he’s never been to Paris, he makes a mental note to someday bring his mother and father, sharing the beauty Paris provides with them. He loves it, there is something magical about the place, every corner he turns is a new kind of magic, it is like art. And just like art, it made James feel something. He wishes his friends were there with him to be living this moment together.
He walked around an hour and took over fifty pictures before he stopped in a small coffee shop deciding to just enjoy the sunset and the breezy evening in Paris. He struggled a little to understand what the barista was telling him and the barista struggled to understand what James was asking for. After ten minutes, he just had the barista point everything until it landed on what James wanted and then he paid.
He was exiting the shop with his drink on his hand, ready to go sit to the nearest bench that has a good view, when all of the sudden a guy bumped into him and poured all his coffee in his shirt and it burned , it burned so bad he couldn’t help to let out a small scream. The guy was looking at his phone and never noticed James going out as he was going in.
“Fuck, fuck,” the guy says, he also burned himself in the hand. “Merde,” James stops breathing when he hears the man swearing in french. “Je suis désolé," honestly, James doesn’t know if he didn’t answer because he didn’t understand French or because he was absolutely mesmerised by the man in front of him. He has deep dark grey eyes, James feels stupid because he didn’t know that shade of grey eyes existed and yet he was looking at them. He has short curly hair and a sharp jawline. But can we go back to talking about his eyes? James feels like he is short in air and suddenly wants to write a thousand songs about just the colour of his eyes. If he looks more carefully, he can notice a hint of green. “Oh,” the man says when he notices James hasn't said anything. “You don’t speak French, do you?” James just shakes his head. “I said I am sorry,” the stranger says, looking at James like he is trying to decipher something.
“Don’t worry about it,” James says and he notices how the stranger drops his gaze to his shirt, which makes James notice the warmth of the coffee again.
“Let me buy you another one,” the stranger says, pointing to the empty cup that is still in James’ hand.
“Oh, you don’t have to,” James says. The guy only looks at him, he is not smiling but there is something in his eyes that makes James know that he is not mad or annoyed.
“Please,” the man says, the french accent still lingering on his tongue. “I insist,” James only nods and the man walks to the register to ask for another, before he speaks to the woman he turns to look at James, just look. He doesn’t need to say anything, his eyes were all James needed to understand.
“A latte is fine,” James says. The guy scoffs.
“A latte? Really?” James nods. The man turns to look at the woman. “Un café au lait s'il vous plaît,” he says in french. Maybe, just maybe, James has a thing for french accents.
“À quel nom?” the barista asks. James waits for the man to answer her, but he turns to see James instead.
“What’s your name?” he asks James. And see, he could’ve just lied, because of all the ‘stranger-danger’ thing, but there was something about him that James wanted to tell him every little detail about his life, starting with his name.
“Uh, James,” he says. The stranger doesn’t have to say it to the woman for her to write it in the cup.
“Et pour toi?” she asks the man.
“Pour moi ce serait un thé aux fruits rouges… a son nom,” he says and the barista only nods and starts making their drinks while they wait together at the end of the bar. “So, James,” the way his accent says his name makes him shiver. “Are you here on holidays?”
“I wouldn’t say holidays,” James says. “More like some kind of work, I just had the day off today and wanted to see the sunset while drinking my coffee,” the man grimaces.
“I think the sun is already set, I’m sorry,” he apologises again.
“Really, don’t worry about it…” James tells him and he realises that he still doesn’t know the man’s name. “I’m sorry I didn’t get your name.”
The stranger looks at him and that allows James to look back, he notices that he is young, maybe around James’ age or a couple of years younger. His nose is a little turned up and has a sweet pink tone, he guesses it is because of the slight cold that is out there. He has long eyelashes and thick eyebrows. He is the most beautiful man James has ever seen in his twenty one years of living. The man is about to say something when the barista lets the drinks near them.
“James,” the barista says, announcing their drinks, James tries to see if the man’s name is on his cup but it says ‘James’ as well. They take them and James is about to ask again for his name when the man starts to speak.
“Well, there’s that,” he says. “It was nice meeting you, James,” was he saying goodbye? So soon? But James doesn’t have his name yet.
“Wait,” James busts out. The man turns around and looks at James expectantly. “Do you happen to have a charger?” he asks the first thing that comes to his mind, and he doesn’t know if he should feel stupid or actually congratulate himself, because his phone is only at ten percent.
“I, uh,” the man seems to think a lot about all of the possibilities that this might bring them. “I left it at home,” is what he ends up saying, James feels a sudden sadness knowing that this was the only time he’s going to see this beautiful man. He just nods, understanding.
“Alright, ur, thanks, uhm for, you know, the latte,” James says and starts to walk to the exit.
“Maybe,” the man speaks up, a little louder than they have been talking and James turns around. The man clears his voice. “Maybe you could come with me and charge your phone,” it didn’t really sound like a question or anything, but it clearly was a genuine invitation. “And also I could lend you something so you could change,” he pointed to the big stain that was on his sweater. “It was my fault anyways,” James stood there for a couple of eternal minutes.
“Alright, yes,” he agrees and the man starts walking to the exit and James lets him get in front of him so he could lead the way and James tries his best to not look down. He feels like a weak, weak man.
When they are outside James notices that the sun is in fact already set, there are a couple of orange gleams at the end of the road and he wants so badly to take a picture but he knows that he has to save his battery just in case of anything. They start to walk side by side in silence and James is enjoying it, it is the kind of silence that you could only have with a person that you’ve known for a long time, James is absolutely mind blown with the fact that he found that comfort in someone he’s known for less than an hour, he knows it is not because of the fact that the person is beautiful and attractive, it is beyond that. If you ask James, he would say that it has something to do with their souls. Although, he wouldn’t mind if the man talked to him in his french accent a little more. He didn't. They walked all the way to the man’s apartment in silence. When he is about to introduce the key to open the door, he hears him say something.
"Tu pourrais être un tueur en série pour tout ce que je sais et je suis sur le point d'ouvrir ma porte parce que tu es beau,” he sighs and opens the door to his apartment.
It isn’t a big apartment, just big enough for two or three people, there is a lot of green stuff, the wall of the small living room is a dark green tone, the carpet matches the wall. The couch is white, which is a bold choice for someone young. There is a small black dining table with only four chairs. James has no clue about interior decoration, so he has no idea how having three different colours actually works too well. He notices that the place is completely tidy and neat, everything seems to be in place, he’s almost afraid of moving.
The stranger goes deep into a small hallway and James doesn’t know what to do and he just stays standing where he is, continuing to see the rest of the place, only moving his head. It’s quite beautiful, there are a couple of framed pictures of the stranger with two other guys, he is smiling in one and James can’t take his eyes off it. The man looks genuinely happy and he really has a pretty smile.
“I’m not sure if this will fit, but you still can try it on,” the stranger says and hands him a black hoodie, James takes a look at it and he can see that it is not the size of the man in front of him, nevertheless, he puts his latte in the corner of the table and puts the hoodie on. It fits perfectly.
“It fits,” James grins at him. He notices that it is the first time he really smiled at the man in all this time. The stranger’s cheeks turn a little pink and James thinks that it is not fair for someone to become even more pretty. The man hands him a charger and James almost forgot that was why he was there. He took it and plugged it in the nearest connection he could see. It was next to a big bookshelf full of books of all genres, perfectly organised in size and colour. “Are you going to tell me your name now?” James dares to ask. The man remains in silence, thinking about it, maybe he is going to give him a fake name, James really wishes he doesn’t, he wants to know the real one.
“What if I don’t?” is what he says in return. What if he doesn’t? Well, then how is he going to remember him? Like a pretty stranger? He doesn’t mind that last one, but he wants to put a name to the beautiful face.
“That’d be disappointing, if I’m honest,” James says. And it really would. How is he going to tell Sirius about the stranger that spilled his coffee all over him and then went to his apartment? He needs a name.
“Then you’ll be disappointed,” the stranger shrugs and sits in the nearest chair he has, then makes a movement with his hand, inviting James to sit as well. Of course, he does, without hesitation. There’s something magnetic about this man, he doesn’t have to say anything to be heard by James.
James has never been ashamed of his sexuality, since he knew he liked men as much as he has liked women, he made peace with the fact that he is pansexual. And right now, he is proud to say that he has never found someone as attractive as the person in front of him, that being said, he will never make peace with himself if he doesn’t get to know this man’s name.
“I don’t want to be disappointed,” James says and holds the man’s gaze. The man is not intimidated by it, he keeps his eyes on his. “I need to call you something, but I don’t want it to be a fake name,” if there is something James is, it’s honest. He’s never been able to lie to anyone, he is terrible at it, everybody knows when he is lying or at least trying to lie. Eventually, growing up, he gave up, why lie if he couldn’t?
“How do I know that you didn’t give me a fake one?” the man asks, and that’s fair. He can have his doubts. James tilts his head and looks at him, he doesn’t believe that, there is something in his eyes that betrays him. His eyes give James all the truth.
“You don’t really believe I did,” It is not a question, James confirms.
“No, I do not,” he agrees and truly that accent is going to be his death. Cause of death? A pretty man with a french accent talked to him. It is valid. “Tell me, why are you in Paris? You told me it was work related, what kind of job is it?” He asks, genuinely curious.
This part of his job is what makes him feel great and awful at the same time, he doesn’t know why but everytime he says he is a singer (a famous one) he feels proud of how far he’s become but also like an egocentric jerk. James has no idea how to balance them out.
“I- uhm…,” he starts saying but he can't find the exact way to explain it.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” the man says.
“Oh, no it’s not that, I just, uh, kinda don’t want you to think I'm egocentric, you know?” James scratches the back of his neck as he does everytime he is nervous.
“Why would I think that?”
“It is not a normal job, well, maybe for some it is, but I wouldn't say it is for me,” James scrunches his nose and looks the other way, being intimidated by the strong look in the other man’s eyes. His eyes land on another portrait, it is the stranger with the same two other guys but they look younger, around fifteen. So, he’s always been beautiful. James drinks from his latte, which is now cold.
“Are you an escort?” the man asks and James almost chokes. “Because if you are there is nothing to be ashamed of, you know? It is a totally valid and respectful job,” the man says in a serious tone, making sure that James feels in a safe environment, even though that is not his job.
“I know it is a respected job, but no, I’m not an escort,” he says, smiling.
“Then what is it? I can’t think of any job to be ashamed of,” he frowns and James needs him to stop it, it’s just too much.
“I’m not ashamed, I just-” what? He just what? “I just don’t want to feel judged,” he says without thinking too much about it, when he was at school, he knew people made fun of him for trying to pursue what he loves the most, he used to say it didn’t bother him but deep down it did. It does. He doesn’t want this man to judge him like they did. “Don’t get me wrong, I am really proud of what I do, but… yeah.”
“I swear I won’t judge you, no matter what it is,” the man says and his face softens a little seeing the struggle James is in.
“Since I was a little kid, I’ve always loved music, I loved the way it made me feel. Growing up I started to learn how to play some instruments and took singing lessons,” James explains, he doesn’t interrupt him, just listens. “I am in a band with my best friends and we are touring right now,” the man doesn’t seem impressed.
“What do you play?” he asks.
“Guitar, bass and piano.”
“I used to love playing the piano,” the man sounds nostalgic.
It is the first time he really showed an emotion and it is from then when they start talking about how touring around has been a dream come true for James but also an exhausting adventure. He tells the stranger how grateful he is he has his best friends with him and how he believes that without them he wouldn’t be anywhere near where he is now, they have been a big part on James’ journey to achieve what he wants in music. James also tells him how he knows that he doesn’t feel as alone as he could because it is also his friends’ dream. He describes how they make music and through all of this, the man listens, actually listens, James has never felt as listened as he is by this man, it’s in the way he looks at him and asks questions about what he is saying, interested in what he has to say. And James just keeps talking, because he can. Because right now, he feels like someone wants to listen.
Don’t get him wrong, he knows his friends and parents will always listen to him, but sometimes, James feels that is more because they have to and not because they want. Also, for most of the time, it is James who does the listening. He loves to listen, really, but he wants to be heard too.
At some point they move to the couch to be more comfortable and James is unable to keep talking, the presence of this man being so close to him is distracting. Fortunately for him, the man gets up and asks him if he wants some tea, James says yes. When the man is in the kitchen he follows him, feeling more at ease moving around the apartment. He sits on a chair that is assigned to the bar and he just watches the man as he does two cups of tea. Well, he doesn’t just look, he asks him questions and the man answers them. James believes the man feels more confident around him, because he is not keeping anything in, he just talks and James listens. He listens fascinated in the way he talks, not referring to the accent, but the words he chooses to say and how he says them. He is mesmerised by him.
The man tells him about how much he wants to own a cat but his roommates don’t let him, yes, he has two roommates who are his best friends since childhood. He says that they are insane but the way he says it James knows that he is really fond of them. When he asks about the bookshelf next to the tv, his eyes shine and he swears he could see stars in there, twinkling. The next hour is the man telling him about his favourite books on the shelf, Remus would love him , James thinks.
They keep talking about everything and nothing. After a few hours, James knows which topics not to mention, like family, but he also knows which ones to ask more. James tells him about his parents and how he wishes for them to be with him on the tour. The man explains how he is not from France but has lived there for most of his life and when he finished school, he decided to stay because there was nothing to go back to, besides, he loves speaking in french (James loves that he does too, he didn’t say that).
After two more cups of tea, the man yawns. “Pardon,” he says and James doesn’t think he realises he spoke in french. “I’m not used to being up till midnight,” and that is just so cute. James melts a little. Then he sits straight and widens his eyes, he hasn’t come back to his hotel and didn’t tell anyone where he was going. Plus, he feels like he is intruding on this man’s space and he is tired.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ve kept you up. You must be so tired, I can get going if you want. I’ll just-” he doesn’t get to get up at all and finish what he was saying because the man put a hand on his arm. No words come out, no thoughts other than the hand that is touching him in his arm. His hand is cold, but makes James feel so warm.
“Don’t worry about it,” is what he says and the sincerity in his voice makes James have to control a shriver.
“Either way,” James starts saying, his voice soft and small because the man still has his hand on him. They both are looking into each other’s eyes. “I have to let my friends and team where I am,” he moves his head in the direction of where his phone is, without breaking eye contact.
“Oh, yes, of course,” the man takes his hand off and looks at the phone.
James goes to unplug it and when he turns it on there are like six messages from Remus, three from Peter, twenty from Sirius along with five missed calls, and one from Pandora, which makes him stay still, feeling his blood draining.
If you are not here in two hours, we are living without you, James. Or calling the cops, either way, we are leaving.
Leaving? Why would they leave at midnight? They have their flight at nine in the morning. And that makes James check the hour and he almost drops his phone.
It’s six in the morning.
They’ve been talking the whole night.
“Is everything alright?” he hears the man, but his attention is in the proximity he is. He is just right behind him, so close to him. It’s distracting. However, he turns to see him and he is trying to keep it cool with how close they are.
“Yeah, uhm, you know how you said you are not used to being up till midnight?” James asks. He nods.
“Yes. I just said it.”
“Well, it is not midnight,” the man frowns and tilts his head. James can almost hear him asking ‘is it not?’ “It is six in the morning, love,” James says and looks again at his phone to answer Pandora’s text telling her that he was on his way, he just needed to ask for an Uber and that’s exactly what he did. The car should be arriving in ten minutes.
“You are leaving,” it wasn’t a question, it was an affirmation and it made James’ heart break a little, he doesn’t want to leave just yet.
“Unfortunately, yes,” James confirms and the man stares at him, looking for something, analysing him maybe.
He takes him by surprise when the man touches his cheek with such a delicate touch, his hands are softer than they look and they just look at each other. With James holding his breath in and the man looking at him with stars in his eyes. As if James was one of his favourite books to read.
“Tu es si beau, ça me rend fou,” James closes his eyes at the only glimpse of French in his voice and leans to his touch, the man holding him, gladly . “Le plus beau,” he whispers and that makes James open his eyes. The man is looking at him with parted lips, James really wants to kiss him, now more than ever. Now that he knows how he thinks, part of who he is, if he found him beautiful without having talked to him, right now that he has, the word beautiful can’t even begin to compare to what he is.
“I have no idea what you are saying,” James whispers and the man laughs. He laughs. James is officially not okay. “I don’t want to assume anything, but I would really like to kiss you,” he lets out, not thinking. The man is no longer laughing, just staring at James and it happens in less of a second, but his eyes shift to James’ lips. “Would you let me kiss you, please?” James asks in a whisper, even though there is no one around, he feels the need to keep this as intimate as possible, just for the two of them.
“Yes,” is all it takes for them to kiss, it is shy at first, only lips touching, but once they got to know what it feels to kiss the other it was over for them. The man’s hands went to the back of James’ neck while James’ hands went to the man’s waist. They kissed like they have been waiting for that exact moment their whole life, at least, maybe the whole night. It felt so right to kiss him. The man put his fingers in his hair, pulling and caressing it. So right. They kissed for a little longer, could’ve been seconds or hours, it didn’t matter, he was enjoying every bit of it.
Eventually they pulled away, James not letting go of his waist just yet, wanting to keep him as close as he could, for as long as he could. The man is looking at him and there isn’t a mask on, this feels real, with swollen lips and flushed cheeks. For a moment, James thinks that he is glad he doesn’t get to stay, because he knows he could fall in love with him. Just as the thought appears it goes, because he is never regretting meeting this man.
“Tu m'as ruiné pour toujours,” the man says, and again James doesn’t understand what he said, but in this, he has a feeling that he agrees. He nods.
The notification on his phone breaks the moment they were absorbed in, it is the Uber. They’re here. James almost pouts when he feels the man taking a step back, making some distance between them.
“I have to go,” is all James says. The man nods. They both walk to the door, he walks with him to where the car is and just as James is getting into the car, he faces the man. “Tell me your name, please,” he begs one last time hoping his luck changes.
“I’m just a nameless star,” is the last thing he hears the man says, before he gives him a little kiss and closes the door of the car.
When he arrives at the hotel all he thinks is that he congratulates himself for the stupid question.