Chapter 2
“Who was that?” Johnny asks.
“A friend of mine.” Dorcas sighs laying against the door for support.
“What just happened?”
“It’s– it’s complicated.” Dorcas answers, shaking her head, eyes closed.
“Does she, like, wants to shag you?”
Dorcas raises an eyebrow and looks up at Johnny. He’s a regular but he usually doesn’t come at the end of the week, so the band and Marlene never met him. Maybe without realising it Dorcas tried to keep them away from each other. Maybe she didn’t want to hurt Marlene’s feelings. But maybe she didn’t want to loose Marlene, maybe she didn’t want her to stop coming. Yeah, maybe Dorcas is a selfish brat.
“I don’t know.” Dorcas says quietly, because she doesn’t feel it in herself to lie, and she really doesn’t know what Marlene wants.
“You’re hanging around with dykes?” Johnny asks with a disgusted expression.
Dorcas looks at him mouth half-opened in chock. If they’re pretty, they’re dickhead, she thinks. Why do they always have to be pricks when they got a pretty face?
“Get out.” She says calmly, opening the door behind her. “I have to go back to work anyways.”
“What?” Johnny asks confused. “You’re upset.”
“Get out Johnny.”
“You’re a dyke too?”
“I fucking told you to get the hell out!” Dorcas snaps, pointing at the door.
Johnny looks at her in chock and she continues to point at the door until he leaves the room. Before going back to work (which she left for a longer time than she should), she passes her hands upon her braids and takes a deep breath. They’re always arseholes anyway, why does she keeps being surprised? From her first boyfriend when she was thirteen to, well, him, Dorcas always fell on pricks. She knows deep down that it is not all there is, the boys of the band are adorable, but she never dated them, and she has no intention to. Maybe she should quit dating for some time. She hates that she always realises too late, when she already went farther than a kiss, farther than a few conversations, not always all the way, but enough to regret.
The last bloke she dated told her that she was ‘beautiful for a black girl’ when they were about to shag. This one was homophobic. Some others were sexists, they always have something it seems.
When she joins her counter there’s a group of customers who look like they are about to get annoyed. She apologises and during the rest of her shift, she doesn’t think about anything, doesn’t have time to. Sometimes she’s overwhelmed when she works at the bar. But sometimes it is good to be overwhelmed. The music is always loud and people try to talk above it, she is called here and there and has to clean. She has to be everywhere at once, because usually she’s alone on the shift. It was alright when she started working there, but as time pass there is more and more customers, and that’s partially thanks to Spiritual Animals. Dorcas is surprised they haven’t signed any contract yet, maybe they don’t want to, but they always look so confident about the future of the band.
The band that plays today is a very different style. This band is more country music and Spiritual Animals is more…everything but that. She’s glad they bring customers, but really it’s a lot of work.
Her shift ends around two, shortly after the band (who do several breaks, reason why they start that early and end up that late). It’s that every nights. Her university schedule is arranged around her job and she doesn’t go to every class, a friend of her sends her the courses she misses. She’s not paying the rent of her apartment, her mother does, but she has to pay for everything else, that’s why she works. To be honest, she could work less and pay for what is necessary in life, but Dorcas loves clothes and makeup, and basically everything that is not vital but in some way is.
When she arrives at her apartment, all she wants to do is sleep for days. She takes the time to shower and remove her makeup before she slides under the covers. She asks herself if Marlene is still going to help her study tomorrow or if her ‘see you tomorrow’ was about the show. She wants to ignore the thought, if Marlene comes then it’s great, if she doesn’t, it’s also alright. Really.
But maybe she should check.
Without realising it, she’s on her phone calling Marlene. When she realises how late it is and decides to hang up, Marlene picks up.
“Dorcas?” She says in a sleepy voice. “Are you alright?”
Dorcas nods then realises Marlene cannot see her, “I am. Sorry to wake you up.”
“Yeah.” Marlene says slowly. “What’s up?”
“Are you still coming tomorrow?” Dorcas bursts.
There’s a silence and Dorcas slaps silently her face with the palm of her hand. She can be so stupid sometimes. So, so stupid. Dorcas hates being stupid.
“Yes.” Marlene murmurs. “Of course I’m coming Cas.”
Dorcas smiles then let’s out a small laugh, “Brilliant, see you tomorrow then.”
“Dorcas.” Marlene calls after a time.
“Yeah?”
“Sleep well.” Marlene says before she hangs up, not letting Dorcas the time to respond.
Dorcas stares at her selling and smiles despite herself. “Sleep well.” She says back in the silence of her room.
She ends up laying awake for hours and misses her morning classes, but when she goes to study at the bar in the afternoon, Marlene is waiting for her.
***
“You’re turning into a bitch, Rita.” Remus says when she finishes her latest job story.
“I’m not. You’re just boring.” The blond rolls her eyes.
“You made that old woman cry!”
“I didn’t. She over-reacted” Rita sighs.
“An old woman. Crying. Because she didn’t want to admit that her family never comes to see her. That’s mean. That’s not over-reacting.”
“Since when do you defend old women?” Rita grumbles, crossing her arms on her breast.
Remus sighs and takes a sip of his coffee. Rita is nine years older than him and works for a tabloid newspaper. Their parents were friends and they sometimes hang out. As time passes, Remus sees her being eaten by the need of gossips, he seems to be the only one trying to make her face the truth.
“You were never adorable, Rita.” He confesses, although it was never a secret. “But you used to have morals.”
“Such as what?” She raises an eyebrow. “Not making old people cry?”
Remus points at her, “Exactly. It should always have been ‘not making anyone cry’ but we can’t ask too much from you. Why don’t you just try to not make elders cry?”
Rita sighs and takes out her block note on which she starts to scribble.
“What are you writing about?”
“How the only person that still accepts me is trying to turn on me.” She says showing a very bad drawing of him.
Remus smiles, “Maybe people would like you more if you weren’t a bitch.”
“That’s who I am.” Rita shudders. “Take it or leave it.”
“I think people chose the later.” Remus grins.
“What about you?” She asks leaning on the table between them, both eyebrows raised.
“I’m still making up my mind.”
She laughs loudly and Remus smiles. As long as she’s not trying to write about him, Remus doesn’t mind Rita’s company, even though she’s a bitch. She knows he’s a drug dealer and she never repeated it, not even to their respective parents, so she cannot be that bad deep inside.
“Don’t you have any story to tell me?” She asks with a bored tone.
“I have a new client.” Remus says after a minute of reflection in which he thinks about his recent life.
“You always do.” She sighs. “And don’t say clients, it makes me think you sell your body. You don’t right?”
“I don’t.” Remus shakes his head. “I mean I have a new regular client, customer, whatever.”
“Oh yeah?” She smirks. “How many times have you seen him?”
“Once.” Remus says. “But I’m sure he’s going to come back. I think he’s flirting with me too.”
“Is he pretty?”
“He’s wholesome. Physically, everything I like on a man. Otherwise, he’s a drug addict.”
Rita sighs again, “Are you going to shag him?”
“Of course not.” Remus frowns. “I’m selling him…you know. I don’t shag with them.”
“But he’s wholesome and flirting with you!” Rita says in despair, like if she doesn’t see what could be so wrong in it.
If that boy is going to buy him drugs regularly, Remus is going to stay emotionally as far away as possible from him. He knows how to do. If the boy insists too much, he’ll just tell him to fuck off and to find himself another drug dealer. Like Remus said, he doesn’t have time for these bullshits. It’d be a lie to say that he’s not one of the most beautiful and attractive and fuckable man he ever saw in his whole life, but he cannot do that, even if they both wanted to.
“What does he look like? You have his name? Oh don’t look at me like that, if you didn’t want me to ask questions you won’t have talk about it in the first place.” Rita says.
Remus sighs, it’s true he started it, the rule is to never say something to Rita if you don’t want her to know everything, “He’s shorter than me, long black hair, armpit length, porcelain skin, and he wears eyeliner. Leather jacket, blue jeans and rings and earrings, many earrings, many rings. I don’t know his name.”
“Look like you studied him quite a bit.” Rita teases, making her thin eyebrows wave.
“He talks a lot.” Remus says looking away. Maybe he stared at that bloke a bit too much, he just hopes the boy didn’t notice.
“How are we calling him then?” Rita thinks. “Wholesome-bloke? Drug-addict-with-black-hair? The-man-Remus-dreams-to-shag-but-is-in-denial?”
Remus glares at her then looks down and feels a flush on his cheeks, “He reminds me of Lady Stardust.” He admits.
Rita looks at him then laughs loudly, “From what you described, it’s pretty accurate. Let’s call him that.”
“Sounds stupid.” Remus grumbles. “And why should we call him anything? I’m not even sure at one hundred percent he’s going to come back!”
However, the next day, early in the morning, Remus sees Lady Stardust (it feels weird to call him that, even in his head) approaching. That bloke must smoke a lot, or share a lot, because people don’t usually come back that early when they buy that much, it’s been four days. Maybe he’s more of an addict than Remus thought.
“Hello gorgeous.” He says when Remus can hear him.
“Back already?” Remus asks.
“Yours is good. It’s been a while since I tasted any that good. Didn’t think I’ll be back that soon.”
“Glad you liked it.” Remus says without smiling. Lord, that boy really is beautiful.
Remus doesn’t like the idea of being attracted to Lady Stardust. Because he’s a drug addict and Remus sells him drug. There’s nothing more toxic than that he believes, he has no intention to do such a thing. He doesn’t even know how far into drugs LS (LS is shorter and less embarrassing than Lady Stardust, Remus thinks, let’s call him LS) is. Maybe he’s on hard drugs, maybe it’s just weed. In any case, it’s a bad idea, and Remus knows that. But staring a bit is not a crime, and Remus knows quite a bit about crimes.
“So, Moony.” LS grins. “How old are you?”
Oh how Remus wants to tell him every single of his secrets! He wants to answer all of his questions and give him anything he asks for. But he cannot do that. He told himself he cannot. Heavens that boy is wondrous! He shouldn’t tell him anything.
But it’s just his age, isn’t it?
“I’m nineteen.” Remus sighs, trying his best to look as uninterested as possible.
“Really?” LS exclaims. “Me too! Soon to be twenty.”
“Oh yeah?” Remus does. Please, please make it sound bored, Remus prays inside. Make it sound uninterested and above it.
“Yeah! That’s awesome, isn’t it?” He continues, not the less in the world concerned by Remus’ internal conversation.
Remus tends to forget the optimism some drug addict sometimes have. Lady Stardust must be one of them, the optimistic ones. Remus surprises himself wondering about how the boy started smoking weed (if it’s only weed). Maybe it was just with friends at first, maybe it hides something deeper, Remus never knows, they all have a different story. Different but somehow always quite similar.
“If you think so.” Remus answers.
He thinks he masters the disinterested manners quite a bit. It’s not like if this attitude differs from his usual one, but it seems unnatural with LS, that nonchalant demeanour, he forces it so much he has the impression everyone sees it. Because he just wants to talk to him and smile and laugh at his jokes. But bloody hell, that’s such a bad idea.
Lady Stardust is staring at him with a soft smile, Remus has the impression that he reads inside of him, he looks like he is admiring Remus, and Remus is not used to such a thing. It let’s him baffled, that look in LS eyes, like Remus is so beautiful he can’t look away, like Remus is the most splendid thing he ever saw, when mirror exist.
He wants to say something but the words block in his throat. Finally, it’s Lady Stardust who talks.
“Is it indiscreet to ask you how you got that scar?” He asks.
It is, indeed, “Got in a fight when I was in high school.” He says despite himself. Fuck that man.
Lady Stardust smiles, “You’re some kind of bad boy then?”
“I’m a drug dealer. Didn’t that sell the thing out?”
“A bit.” He smiles wider. “I like it.”
“Yeah.” Remus says without looking away from the boy. Fuck it. Fuck him. He can’t do that. That’s not how things work. How can someone be so attractive? How is it possible? Remus’ mind is working at full speed and completely blank at the same time. Fuck it. Fuck him. “Are you going to take anything?” He tries to regain his composure.
“Whatever you’re willing to give me.”
Remus’ breath catches in his throat. Bloody fucking hell that man. He’s trying to kill him! Remus tries to breath and to stay calm, not to show anything. He won’t get him, that’s just not how it works. But bloody hell!
“I can give you anything.” He says. Fuck, it sounds flirty. “I mean, I–hum–well, what do you want? Like last time?”
The bloke smiles, “Yeah. Let’s do that.”
When he finally leaves, Remus has to lay against the wall for his breathing to go back to normal. He hates himself for being that attracted by a bloke he is selling drug to. That’s against his morals (he does have some, being a drug dealer doesn’t suppress any moral) to have a personal relationship with a client. And drugs change a person, Remus saw that multiple times since he started selling.
He promises himself he won’t try anything, and he’s not one to break promises. Maybe he’ll have to swear in front of his mirror and out loud for it to feel more real. He won’t try anything with Lady Stardust. That’s the promise. That’s the truth.
***
The first time James Potter felt fear, he must have been around four years old thinking a monster was hidden under his bed. After that, he felt fear regularly, for sometimes rubbish things.
The first time James Potter thought he had the fear of his life, he was eleven, hidden with Sirius and Peter in a closet from their teacher after they broke the huge clock in the great hall.
But the first time James Potter felt true fear, he was fifteen going on sixteen and his best friend knocked at his door in the middle of the night, face pale and stoic, his brother’s hand in one of his and a bag in the other.
“I have to talk to your Mum.” Is all he said for a time. Then he added, “Could you take care of Reggie while I talk with her?”
James had nod and brought Regulus upstairs while Sirius was joining Effie. James still doesn’t know why he was the one opening the door and why his mother wasn’t right behind him. He was scared, terrified, because Sirius’ expression was so blank and mature, so hollow. It was the first time since they met that James couldn’t tell what was going on inside of Sirius’ head.
Fear didn’t leave him for the next weeks when both of the Black brothers were hiding at the Potters’ house. That’s when he got closer with Regulus, because Sirius was often talking with James’ parents or out of the house with either of them, and when he was there, he wasn’t really there. James had the impression he lost his best friend, and he never admitted that to Sirius. Where they talked a lot until late at night, they were now barely saying anything and Sirius went to bed early. Where they used to hug and sleep against each other, Sirius jumped at any touch and slept in a separate room. And as James was missing his best friend, Regulus was missing his brother. That’s how they bonded.
Now, however, Regulus became distant again, and James doesn’t know why. If James didn’t know better, he’d say Regulus avoids him, but it cannot be.
So maybe he hyperbolised the request his parents made so he could see him at Sunday’s weekly meal. Really, he doesn’t know why he wants to see him so bad.
“So,” Monty says once they are at the table, “what is your next book about Regulus?”
James sees a minuscule flicker in Regulus’ eyes and their eyes cross for a micro-second, so short that he could have imagined it, “Oh you know, life and all.” He smiles.
James stares at Regulus while the later talks with Monty. Soon after, Effie and Sirius join them with the appetizer. James tries to see if Sirius’ eyes are red but they don’t look much different than usual. He has a small smile on his lips, a smile James hasn’t seen on his lips since maybe years.
“Yo,” he says leaning close to Sirius, “what’s going on?”
“What?” Sirius raises an eyebrow.
“You smile like an idiot.”
“I went to Moony this morning and that boy is amazing.” Sirius smiles.
Moony? Mooner. Barty’s dealer. Fuck. James can’t talk about it in front of his parents. He cannot force himself to return Sirius’ smile, “We’ll talk about it later, alright?”
Sirius’ smile fades and he nods before he turns his attention back on the table, but James knows he’s not really there. In fact, he knows everyone is conscious of Sirius’ absence at the table. Did James use a too harsh tone? Was it the wrong thing to say? He doesn’t know, and that scares him.
He feels a kick in his leg and is about to cry out when he meets Regulus’ worried eyes. ‘What is going on?’ his eyes ask. James inclines his head on the left: ‘later’. Regulus nods and turns back to Effie who was talking about her new karate classes.
“I’ll be right back.” Sirius says standing up after a time. He leaves the room and goes outside.
James glances at Regulus who is already looking at him. After a sign of the head, they apologise too and go in a different room to talk. James leans against the wall and sighs, he hates these conversations, wholeheartedly hates them.
“What happened?” Regulus asks once the door is closed.
“I’m afraid Sirius might be falling for his new dealer.” James sighs.
“Barty’s? Mooner?”
“Calls him Moony.” James laughs. “I told him that we’ll talk about it later. Maybe there was something in my tone, I don’t know”
Regulus shakes his head, “No, it’s nothing like that.”
“What?”
“Maybe he’s scared too. That you wouldn’t approve.”
“Of course I don’t approve!” James bursts. “I’m not saying anything for the drugs, because I know it helps him, but he can’t date his dealer!”
“I know! Fucking hell I don’t approve either. I don’t approve any of this I–I just can’t tell him anything. He’s there because of–because–”
“Because of the bastards that raised the two of you.” James says coming closer to Regulus so he can put his hands on Regulus’ shoulders. “You know, I’m not even sure my parents know the whole story. Sirius has…he has demons to fight, but he does not try to fight them, he pushes them away with weed, that’s all he does. And I’m not sure we can do anything if he doesn’t want us to. It’s only pot anyway, isn’t it?”
Regulus closes his eyes, passes a hand on his face and turns away from James so his hands fall off Regulus’ shoulders, “You’re probably right.”
“I’m always right.” James grins.
“Oh please.” Regulus rolls his eyes and turns back his head to James. There is a small smile on his lips.
Fucking hell. James’ grin reduces and he watches Regulus in awe. They stare at each other, not able to move. Or maybe it’s just James who’s not able to do so, he doesn’t know, Regulus doesn’t seem to be able to do anything more than staring.
For years, Regulus was just Sirius’ little brother. Little Reggie. Reg. Someone he heard stories about and exchanged two words in the corridors with. James always respected and appreciated Regulus in some way, because of what Sirius was saying. But then Sirius escaped and he brought Regulus with him. And Sirius was never there, or not really, but Regulus was. And as much as James needed company, Regulus was scared to be alone. For a few months, it was almost only the two of them. James was the one who knew the most about the Black brothers’ situation, so Regulus was avoiding his own friends to stay with James. James who didn’t have Sirius anymore. Yeah, he had Peter and the girls, but it was different. James felt guilty to be friends with people when Sirius was like that, so he stayed with Regulus. Because Regulus understood.
But soon after, they slowly grew apart. James tried to prevent it but Regulus seemed to do it intentionally, so James let it go. And soon Sirius came back to himself, not totally, never totally, but he was more like his old self. So James stopped chasing after Regulus, after all, Regulus too was back with his friends.
But James missed Regulus. He still misses Regulus. Because Regulus is– he’s Regulus. It’s hard to explain. Of course James doesn’t miss the times when Sirius was at his lowest, but he misses the proximity Regulus and him developed. He misses those moments when they were together but not saying anything, barely ever saying anything. He misses those conversations about random things that were never too deep, they never talked about anything deep. He misses when they played board games in silence. And even if he’s ashamed of it, he misses being the one holding Regulus until he stopped crying.
“James.” Regulus murmurs, something like a question in his voice, something like a demand.
James misses Regulus. And maybe he always missed Regulus. And maybe he always missed him in a different way than he thought. Because James finds himself kissing Regulus, and there he feels like they are were they should be. And maybe for the first time he doesn’t miss Regulus, because Regulus is right there, Regulus is right against him, where he should have always been, or maybe that’s where James should always have been. He doesn’t know. James doesn’t know anything anymore. But he’s kissing Regulus, and he never wants to stop.
“Fuck, James.” Regulus says, pulling away. “Fuck.”
“Sorry.” James says with wide eyes. “I’m sorry. That was– that was–”
“Shut up James. Shut up.” Regulus says and they’re kissing again.
James’ minds go blank and he can’t formulate a single coherent thought, just one word, just Regulus’ name. Maybe at some point he mumbles it or says it out loud because Regulus pulls away again.
They stare at each other, and although James knows it might have been a mistake, it didn’t feel like one. It doesn’t feel like one. Because that kiss just give sense to all the feelings, all the emotions and all the confusions. How can he explain that? How can he formulate that? When it’s all already so blurry in his mind.
“Reg.” He says out of breath. Regulus closes his eyes. It’s a coping mechanism, for when he prepares to hear something harsh, James knows it. “Regulus.” He says again.
After a time, Regulus opens back his eyes, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“It was a mistake.”
James watches him in bewilderment and Regulus looks away, “Really?” He asks because he can’t really think anything else.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“I kissed you, Reg.” James notices.
“It was a bad idea.”
“Was it?”
“James.” Regulus says suddenly looking at him. James mouth falls half open as he watches him. “Don’t look at me like that James.”
“Like what?”
Regulus watches him for a minute then passes his hands on his face and hair with a frustrated noise. James is trying to make sense to what is happening but he can’t manage to understand. Regulus is the rational one, not him.
“Fuck it James.” Regulus snaps.
James grins, about to respond some sexual joke because he’s James when the door opens.
“What are you doing?” Sirius asks with frowned eyebrows.
James throws a glance at Regulus who is not looking at him and shudders at his brother, “That’s none of your business.” He says with that half-harsh tone he uses when Sirius smokes.
“James’ lips are red and wet.” Sirius notices, raising an eyebrow.
James does his best to fight a blush but Regulus rolls his eyes and moves toward his brother, “Yeah, in your head. Let’s go back to dinner.”
James stays behind for a time then follows them out. When he joins the table, Regulus is already back in a conversation with Monty and won’t meet James’ eyes. James is left alone with his thoughts and questions.