Scar Tissue

In the end they didn’t even have to ask whether they could use the recording studio. Sirius came up to them the next day, five month contract in hand. It was almost free. Dorcas couldn’t ignore the look Marlene gave her when they walked in on that first day; both smug and accusing as she brushed past them in the corridor. Since that night, Dorcas had resolved to simply ignore her. It wasn’t like her approval was necessary for the success of the band, as the contract had shown. 

Sirius had met them that morning in front of the large warehouse which they had converted into the studio. It stood in a quiet back alley, completely inconspicuous from the outside. As the other boy gave them the tour of the place, Dorcas tried to photographically memorise everything she was seeing in order to give the full report to her mom tomorrow. Inevitably, her mind wandered back to their phone call that morning.

She had woken up with a blaring hangover to the shrill sound of the phone ringing, which was unfortunately difficult to avoid since Dorcas was currently sleeping on the couch. With her eyes still closed, she reached her hand out and felt around until she came across the smooth plastic of the telephone box. When she put the phone to her ear, she ended up on the receiving end of a monologue that seemed to have been going on for much longer than the phone had been ringing for. 

“ - and did you know that she told Danny from downstairs that it’s his last chance to ask me out before I run off with the motorcycle gang down the street?”

The sound of her mom’s voice unconsciously placed a small smile on Dorcas’ face. She had been getting phone calls from her almost daily since she came to LA. Mainly, it was her complaining about the fact that her grandparents were driving her up the wall. 

“Oh, are the motorcycle gang back in town?” Dorcas asked calmly.

She finally opened her eyes and placed the white telephone box on the couch cushion in front of her. Early morning light filtered in through the transparent window curtains. The apartment was silent and she wrapped herself tightly around the shoulders with the white fluffy blanket she had slept in. She flattened out the bumps in the cloth around her as she settled in.

The only reply on the other side of the call was a long-suffering sigh. Dorcas’ smile grew wider. 

“I’m just saying, maybe you can ask them if they have a spare bike going.”

The sigh turned into a scoff of offence “You say you find a guy hot one time and suddenly you’re Mary Magdalene.”

“Hey!” it was Dorcas’ turn to be offended, “You know this has nothing to do with the patriarchal restrictions on a woman’s sexuality. It has to do with the fact that I had to witness you shamelessly flirting with a guy who had a motorcycle and a chest piece tattoo.”

“He had the whole biker thing going on…” her voice sounded more like a scolded child’s. 

“The tattoo was from ACDC’s Highway to Hell.” Dorcas baulked.

“...I miss the days where children respected their parents.”

Dorcas rolled her eyes and suppressed a laugh, trying not to wake up Barty who was on the other couch. They were old and falling apart - the brown leather torn in certain parts and revealing the white stuffing underneath - but they were surprisingly comfortable to sleep in.

“Besides,” her mom continued in a tone Dorcas knew could only lead to more whinging, “If I wanted to be mocked mercilessly I would just go downstairs. No offence, but grandma is better at it than you are.”

The light pad of footsteps caused Dorcas to look up. Evan was yawning and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he picked up a green jumper from the floor and slipped it on. His hair - recently dyed light pink only two days before - was frizzy from sleep, his loose curls like tufts of cotton wool. He sent a smile towards Dorcas as he made his way to the small wooden table in the corner of the room; they didn’t have a kitchen, but had set up all the essentials like coffee and toast. In fact, the whole apartment was extremely bare, but it was the only decently-sized place they could afford, even with the record label’s deposit. 

“Wait, does that mean you’re at their house?” The thought made Dorcas return to the conversation.

“They won’t let me leave!” her mother whisper-shouted through the phone, “They keep thinking that if I stay too long in our house I’ll remember that you’re gone and get depressed or something.” 

“And are they right? Will you get depressed or something?”

“...I think my comment about buying several cats didn’t really help the situation.” her mom confessed after a small silence.

“Well, being funny has its consequences.”

“I know. It’s so hard.” 

Dorcas snorted at that. Evan wordlessly filled two cups of coffee, coming over to the couch and passing one over to her which she took with a smile of gratitude. He sat down so that they were both facing forwards, the telephone box placed in between them. She nudged her blanket over to him which he took, tucking his knees up to his chest. Dorcas pressed the button which put her mom’s call on speaker phone so that the other boy could hear. 

“Maybe Danny from downstairs wouldn’t be so bad.” 

Dorcas looked at Evan, horrified, as the other boy’s eyes crinkled up in a smile.

“He has been trying to learn Careless Whisper on the saxophone for three years and he still hasn’t managed to play anything that sounds remotely like it.”

“Well I’m running out of options!”

Dorcas scoffed, “Please, you’re forty-three.”

“Practically an old spinster in Jane Austen times!”

“Don’t worry, Charlotte Lucas, we’ll find you a rich nobleman soon.” She took a sip from her coffee. It was too weak. Why couldn’t any of her friends make a decent cup of coffee? Her nose crinkled in momentary disgust and she turned her head to glare at Evan, but he was lost in thought, looking at the phone box as her mom went on about her romantic prospects back in San Francisco.

Dorcas never knew whether she was doing the right thing. She wasn’t sure if letting him listen to the phone calls helped him or made him depressed. When they were much younger, Evan had often made excuses to hang around doing his homework or something whilst she called her mom in the common room. She only boarded during the week, but she still liked to know what her daughter was doing and Dorcas liked talking to her either way; she was one of her best friends. One day, he quietly asked her if she could put the call on speaker phone. She remembered how awkward it seemed, seeing Evan who was usually so self-assured and laid-back turn into someone so vulnerable. She did it no questions asked, of course - Dorcas never really needed any explanation when it came to doing something for her friends. It was only until Regulus made a throwaway comment about how Evan never got any phone calls from home that something sort of clicked. She knew that the other boy had never really liked his parents and he had a complicated relationship with what the Rosier legacy stood for, but she never really gave it much thought. Looking back, Dorcas scolded herself for not realising that it would obviously take a toll on their family dynamic. She never even thought that Evan would find comfort in the kind words of someone else’s mom. 

But sometimes she has looked over and seen him lost in thought, a sad look settling over his features, and she hasn’t really known what to do. She guessed that if it truly made him that upset, he would stop listening to their calls, so she decided long ago not to push it. Still, that assumed that her friends always acted in their own best interests and she knew that often wasn’t the case. 

She brought herself out of her thoughts to interrupt her mom’s rambling, “You haven’t asked me about my day yesterday.”

“Sorry. I forgot that children can only speak when they are spoken to.” she replied in a bland manner.

Dorcas ignored the comment. “We got the studio contract.” 

Both Evan and her had to lean away from the squeal that rang through from the other side of the call.

“Aw honey that’s great! You need to tell me everything about the studio I want to know exactly where every instrument, piece of furniture, valuable equipment, signed autographs, practically anything I can sell off-”

“I’ll add in blueprints to the building, including all the exits and entrances as well.” 

Her mother laughed, “You know I’m kind of struggling with this new development of having a daughter that’s way cooler than me.”

“I’ve always been cooler than you.”

“I have some baby pictures of you dancing to ‘Wham!’ that beg to differ.” her mom quipped back. 

Dorcas gasped, “You wouldn’t…”

“Anything to prove a point, darling.”

 From inside the bedroom, she could hear the rustling of someone getting up. Probably Regulus or Pandora. She’d probably have to start getting ready soon.

“Mom I’m going to have to leave you.” 

“Wow. I thought I’d brought you up to be less cowardly. Hanging up the phone just because I have some incriminating pictures is such a-”

“Mom! I actually have to go!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 

Dorcas huffed out an exasperated laugh. She really did miss her. 

“Bye, sweetheart.” Her mom’s voice sounded a lot softer now. “Love you.”

“Love you more.” she replied with a smile. She immediately ended the call before her mom could argue with her about who loved who most.

She looked up to see Evan’s absent-minded smile. Dorcas thought it was best to just leave him to it and go make herself a better cup of coffee. After she had added enough caffeine to kill three bears, she decided it was enough and started brewing the fresh batch. The others would probably complain but they would just have to suck it up. They usually never let Dorcas make the coffee for this exact reason, but it was their fault for leaving the poor machine unattended. 

“Hey, Reg” Evan’s voice filled the still room.

“Morning.”

She looked up to see Regulus coming towards her. Beneath the calm mask he was trying to assume, Dorcas saw the turbulent sea of nerves. It was something that only she could notice when he was really trying to hide it. His calm facade was shattered when he looked down towards the coffee Dorcas was pouring in her mug with disgust. 

“Did you…” he asked, voice filled with terror. 

“Make the coffee myself? Yep.” she smiled smugly.

Regulus proceeded to grab a pillow and hurl it at Evan’s head for allowing her to get ahold of the machine.

Dorcas pulled herself out of her thoughts to look at the stony features on the other boy’s face. Regulus’ face had stilled since entering the studio. 

It was curious that Sirius was also emotionless, just in a different way. His mask was one of nonchalance and charm. She tried not to think of the implications of that similarity. At the very least, Sirius hadn’t mentioned the name change, which she supposed was sort of nice, though Regulus had told Dorcas he had found it confusing that he hadn’t.

Sirius was ushering them towards a large entryway. It was a rectangle that had been cut out from the wall and covered with an industrial-size panel of heavy iron that slid open and closed. Dorcas walked through it to find a large set of windows that lined a back wall. They were set out like small square tiles, like large mosaics. 

“This is our common room.” Sirius smiled. 

To the right, there was a mismatched series of armchairs, couches and coffee tables. Large cosy rugs covered the glossy concrete floor. The walls were exposed brick and were plastered with posters from different movies, albums, artists and gallery exhibitions, as well as various pictures of the band and their friends throughout the years. Dorcas recognised some of the art on the walls - photographs by Dora Maar and a Henry Diltz candid of The Who performing - she secretly applauded the good taste of whoever put them there. The room was littered with plants and books and lamps and fairy lights. To Dorcas’ left was a large wooden table with a few empty mugs lying around and a small kitchen with a fridge. 

“We kind of just hang about here when we’re free.” Sirius continued, “We have a working kitchen and the TV over there is also functional. We used to have a radio somewhere here but I think James moved it somewhere and didn’t bring it back. Or maybe that was me.” 

He looked slightly downwards in concentration, like he was trying to remember something, “Well, whatever, we’ll find it someday.” 

“Is this a picture of you guys in Paris?” Evan baulked. Sirius’ eyes lit up and he started babbling excitedly about their latest tour. Dorcas didn’t really care so she moved towards one of the couches.

Barty stretched out on the nearest sofa available whilst Evan looked at the pictures on the wall with Sirius, who would interject every so often with some story or other. Pandora sat on the couch next to Barty, forcing him to move his legs and then put them on her lap. Dorcas and Regulus found a corner next to the windows and got distracted by the comically large poster of Neil Young. 

Their quiet buzz of chatter was interrupted by the sound of three familiar voices getting closer and closer, one of which (to Dorcas’ irritation) she recognised. 

“I’m just saying! The E flat chord would sound a lot better broken up. You know, 80s techno vibe.”

“But then we have to take away the C11 chord because of the clash.”

“The C11 isn’t that good anyways-”

“I like the C11!”

Unfortunately, the silence Dorcas mistook for them going down another corridor that wasn’t theirs was in actuality a normal pause in the conversation. 

“Don’t look at me like that I have no fucking clue what either of those chords mean.” Mary looked at the other two disinterestedly as she walked through the doorway, leaving Marlene and Lily in heated debate as they went towards the kitchen. Mary smiled at all of them and wavered off towards Sirius when she saw him.

“Run away, they're talking about chords.” she warned.

Sirius sighed sweetly, “Aren’t you glad our jobs only consist of looking pretty?”

“Very.”

“You guys all good? Is there anything we can do for you? Don’t feel ashamed to ask - you know we only live to serve…” From her spot in the kitchen, Marlene looked at them with an innocent expression. She was wearing striped boxers and a black tank top. Her curly hair was slightly frazzled in the humid air. 

“Marls…” Sirius looked at her in warning. The other girl just rolled her eyes and went back to sit on the countertop next to where Lily was boiling a kettle. 

In any other universe, Dorcas’ pride would probably have made her snap by now. Unfortunately in this one, she was forced to remind herself that she was doing this for Regulus and for the band. Deep down she reckoned it was probably her fault anyways - she had the bright idea in school, as the scholarship kid, to make friends with the four students with the least interest in their parents’ money. Barty, Evan and Regulus wanted nothing more than to be financially independent of them and free from their clutches. Pandora’s inheritance (a lot of which she gave to her grandmother who had looked after her since she was a baby) wasn’t enough to keep them all afloat. They couldn’t afford to record in a normal studio; they needed this opportunity. 

Marlene had left Lily in the kitchen and had meandered off to Barty and Pandora’s side. To distract herself from the bitter taste in her mouth at the idea of the other two fraternising with the enemy, Dorcas left Regulus with Evan and went in search of peppermint tea. 

“Any water left in there?” 

The other girl spun around in surprise, her wide green eyes following where Dorcas was pointing towards the kettle. 

“Yeah, of course!” Lily nodded and immediately turned back around, swinging open one of the cabinets and grabbing a mug, “What type of tea? We have peppermint, chamomile, this weird licorice-sleepy blend Peter is obsessed with - oh! We have Chai - but it’s in tea bags instead of home-made. We have to hide it from James because he would probably murder us so if you have that you need to keep it on the down low, you know?”

“Peppermint is fine,” Dorcas smiled. She actually quite liked Lily. “James makes Chai?”

Lily hummed in response as she pulled out the tea bags and poured the water, her freckled arms moving at the speed of light, “It’s really good. He does this specific type from Goa - that’s the region of India he’s from - with orange and vanilla and it’s the best.”

She turned around and passed the mug towards the other girl. It had a picture of River Phoenix on it, which Dorcas decided not to comment on. 

Lily carried on, “When we were younger and the band hadn’t really taken off yet, we would spend all our time at James’. His house was closer to all the places we would go out to, and his mom would let us stay out late. She’s not from Goa, but she moved there when she married James’ dad and she said that what she missed the most was the Chai stands - apparently they don’t have as many in there as in other parts of India. But she really liked the type of Chai that was typical there so she got really good at making it at home. Any time we were around she would always have some. We all got kind of addicted, but then the band started taking off and we moved out and we had so much to do that we all kind of felt bad asking James to make it all the time, so we bought some tea bags.”

When she finished, she wasn’t even out of breath, which Dorcas thought was rather impressive. She took a sip of the tea, smiling at the other girl. When she looked back up, Lily was laughing to herself. 

“What?” 

“Oh, nothing.” Lily shrugged, but then thought the better of it, “It’s just that I hadn’t realised that I gave you the River Phoenix mug. Marls is going to freak.” 

“Why?”

Lily’s features morphed into something vaguely apologetic, like she hadn’t realised the implications of what she had just said until then, “She really likes that mug.”

“... so she’s going to hate the fact that I’m using it?” Dorcas finished for her.

“More like desecrating it, yes.” Lily nodded. Dorcas laughed at that. She turned around and leant on the counter next to Lily, making sure that the whole room had a clear view of the mug she was drinking out of. It was Lily’s turn to laugh at that.

Lily’s voice turned a bit more sombre, “You know she doesn’t really hate you, she just really cares about Sirius - about all of us.” 

“Yeah, she sees everything rather black and white doesn’t she?”

“I know that may seem like a flaw to you now, but it really isn’t. At least, not to me. Sometimes you need someone who doesn’t get caught up in the morally grey - you can excuse a lot of things if you think like that.”

Dorcas just huffed. She didn’t want to start any sort of argument with the other girl, so she refrained from saying that yes, it did seem like a pretty big flaw and nothing else.

“I know she comes on a little strong but that’s because she’s on the defensive right now. The things we’ve seen Sirius go through… let’s just say it’s a surprise that I’m so civil.” she gave a small smile. 

“I don’t believe that’s Regulus’ fault.” Dorcas stated calmly, but defiantly.

“No one says it is. She doesn’t believe it’s Regulus’ fault for staying more than you believe it’s Sirius’ for leaving. It’s what happened afterwards. The years of no communication even after Regulus had turned his back on the family.” 

“But he was-”

“I don’t care.” Lily interrupted, not unkindly, but truthfully. “That’s not for us to sort out, and if Marlene knew better she would butt out unless she was needed, but that’s not what she’s like and it’s one of my favourite things about her. She’s - been through things. We all have, but she was hit the hardest. Her friends aren’t just her friends, they're her family, and sometimes that means acting a bit erratically when you’re trying to protect them.” 

Dorcas knew a bit about that. She refrained from saying anything else, not because of any sympathy towards Marlene, but because it was clear Lily was also trying to protect her friend, and she liked Lily. They continued to chat idly, mostly about their favourite bands and their favourite books. She found out that it was Lily who put the Dora Maar photographs on the wall, and discovered a shared love for her that they continued to talk excitedly about for another hour.

Eventually Sirius pulled them away to show them their practice room and recording studio, which were connected by a small doorway. The practice room itself was almost like a continuation of the common room, with couches and velvet bean bags. Sirius said goodbye and left them to it. 

They looked at each other for a while, unable to know exactly how to proceed. This could be the start of their career - well, their international career. Their band had become pretty well known in San Fran, to the point that Dorcas couldn’t walk into a club without being recognised. They had been spotted a few times since moving to LA, but they knew that they weren’t anywhere close to the level of international fame bands like Gryffindor Tower had. 

It was Barty who made the first move, grabbing some sticks that were lying on the table and lunging towards the drum kit. He ran a hand wistfully over one of the cymbals,

“I’ve missed you so much…” he sighed longingly.

“If you don’t stop caressing that drum kit I’m going to punch a hole in it.” Regulus stared at him as he walked towards the keyboard in the corner. He started fiddling around with the cables. 

“You’re just jealous you don’t have what we have.” Barty put a hand over his drum kit, like he was trying to protect it.

Regulus looked up at him condescendingly, but then the corner of his mouth started curling upwards and he looked back down towards the piano, “I guess we just need a bit more time. It’s been a difficult few weeks.”

Barty’s face broke out into a gleeful smile, “Well, you know we’re always here if you need advice.” 

“Please,” Dorcas butted in, rolling her eyes “As if you guys are the pinnacle of a healthy relationship.”

Barty sighed frustratedly, “What happened with Evan was one time and we’ve moved past it!”

“Oh really?” Evan looked over from where he was picking up his guitar, one eyebrow raised, “Is that what you’re telling her? Thank goodness she didn’t hear the message you left me on the phone last night. All you did was beg for more.”

If the other boy hadn’t ducked his head to strap on the guitar, he would’ve seen the way Barty faltered. 

Luckily, Pandora saved him from any embarrassing remark that Regulus and Dorcas were most certainly not going to, “Well now I feel left out. I don’t have an instrument.” 

Barty huffed a laugh, lowering his head to turn the screws on his stool and make sure it was the right height. Dorcas and Regulus shared a knowing look. She wondered how long it would take for them to figure out that their jokes didn’t devolve into flirting by coincidence. 

Dorcas moved over to her bass. Its glossy black paint hadn’t been scratched or damaged at all on the way to LA, which she was beyond grateful for. When she moved to pick it up from the stand, she noticed a small bit of paper that had been placed in between two of the strings. 

“The others have invited us to this party tonight at some bar. Apparently all the big-time producers and stuff are going to be there.” Pandora commented as she flinged herself onto one of the couches.

Dorcas pulled the paper out and carefully unfolded it to reveal a yellow page of job listings that had been ripped out from a newspaper. On the bottom right-hand corner, in black marker, were the words:

‘in case you ever feel like paying Sirius back xx - Marlene’

Dorcas rolled her eyes. What a bitch. 

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The party didn’t start until around eleven, so as soon as they got back to the apartment, Evan announced he was going to take a nap and wasn’t to be disturbed until half an hour before they had to leave. Pandora immediately started getting ready, because it always took her hours to do so. This left Dorcas, Barty and Regulus to their own devices, which was quite a dangerous thing given that they didn’t have enough money for a TV to entertain themselves with. Naturally, they decided to curb their boredom by putting on a fashion show of potential outfits for the night - well, Barty and Dorcas did. Regulus already knew exactly what he wanted to wear and besides, his talents were best used as a critic anyways. 

They tried on five different outfits each and modelled them down the living room. Every time they went into the bedroom to grab clothes, Evan would grumble at them or shout something, which they all found so entertaining that they purposely forgot things in there just to annoy him more. At one point, Barty and Regulus were having such an intense argument about which of Dorcas’ outfits was the best that they had to call Dorcas’ mom in order to be the neutral tie-breaker. She obviously couldn’t see the outfit, which meant that the others had to describe it in detail to her, which resulted in another argument where Barty accused Regulus of describing the clothes in a way that would get his outfit to win (“You described the top as ‘tacky yellow’!” “well now you’re just overreacting”). Dorcas had never really understood the phrase ‘the devil finds work for idle hands’ until that moment.

Eventually Regulus won because Barty couldn’t be bothered to keep arguing. With an evil smile, Dorcas confessed that she was going to wear Regulus’ option no matter what they decided because it was her favourite one. Barty got up and left the room to cheer himself up by annoying Evan. 

Dorcas looked at herself in the dusty mirror they had found on the street one day and hauled all the way back to their apartment. She had settled on a small white bikini top and some low waisted baggy pants which revealed the logo of the Calvin Klein underwear she had on underneath. She had tied a red bandana on her head. She wasn’t going to sugarcoat it: she looked fucking hot. 

By the time eleven rolled around, they were all standing by the door to leave, waiting for Evan to finally be done getting ready. It took forever, but eventually he came out of the bathroom. Everyone stopped dead in their tracks. 

“Your hair is blue.” Regulus stated the obvious. 

“Yeah, I just dyed it.” Evan shrugged his shoulders, moving to grab his keys and head towards the doorway. 

“It looks good.” Pandora smiled.

“Really? Thanks! I thought it could use a change.” Evan smiled back. 

“Did you have to dye it right now when we were about to leave?” Regulus interrupted the little bubble of compliments Pandora and Evan had created. 

Evan shrugged his shoulders again, “Yeah, why not?”

Regulus glared at him for a few seconds, before rolling his eyes and stepping out of the house. Dorcas looked over to see Barty grinning as they walked out of the house. The other girl looked at him suspiciously while she locked the front door, but the other boy just smiled innocently back.

“Did you convince Evan to dye his hair?” she asked finally.

“What, and offend Regulus’ delicate sensibilities about always being on time to things? Never.” he looked back, eyes wide, and Dorcas had her answer. The other boy took a deep breath and continued nonchalantly, “I guess it’s divine karma for being such a little shit about what outfit you should wear, Cas…”

Dorcas just rolled her eyes, smiling.

It took them a while to get to the bar. James’ idea of ‘walking distance’ was a somewhat loose term for the thirty minute trek they endured - Pandora in heels. When they arrived, they saw a huge queue that lined the block three times. The entrance was guarded with bulky bouncers and security - not that they could see much beyond the horde of paparazzi. 

“Don’t worry, Remus said we were on the guest list.” Regulus drawled. 

It wasn’t noticeable to anyone else, but Dorcas could recognise just from the sound of his voice that Regulus was gearing himself up for the confidence it would have to take for them to stroll past the line of people and photographers without genuine confirmation of whether they were on any list. After all, it wasn’t Gryffindor Tower who was throwing the party. 

But Dorcas had been a scholarship kid in a school inhabited by the children of Silicon Valley billionaires. She knew what it was like to have to rely on confidence alone to get you somewhere. She made her way to the front of the group, pushing past the cameras. 

Everyone’s eyes turned to them. There were a few blank stares, but in the distance she heard shouts of “Dorcas Meadowes!” and “oh my god is that Regulus Black?” All of the cameras followed suit. They were bombarded with bright flashes and shouts from photographers asking questions. The clicks of the cameras taking pictures sounded like people clapping. When they made it to the front, the bouncer let them in without exchanging a word. 

“That was so fucking cool!” Evan whispered excitedly to Dorcas as they walked through the doors.

Inside, the music was deafening. It was the first thing Dorcas noticed. That, and the two women doing coke off the table next to them. The club was bathed in a red glow. They waded through the bodies of people, trying to find a pocket of air. The electric buzz in the atmosphere infected every atom in Dorcas’ body with a faint hum. Eventually, Evan spotted a head of familiar black curls sitting on the bar. 

“I think I’m just gonna head to the dancefloor!” Dorcas shouted over the music.

Evan shrugged and walked towards some more people which she was starting to recognise as Lily and James. Barty followed him. Instead, Pandora pointed towards a spot on the dance floor that was opening up and so they moved there. 

 Dorcas loved dancing. She imagined it was the same type of joy people got after running marathons or doing cardio workouts. Actually, it probably was. Something to do with endorphins? Honestly, Dorcas was too distracted to care and the pill Pandora had given Regulus and her was starting to make her thought patterns a bit fuzzy. The mass of sweaty bodies around her were suffocating, but Dorcas didn’t mind.

They danced like that for a while, the three of them. Dorcas closed her eyes and let the music fill her senses. A few songs later, she found herself dancing with another girl. Her hair was raven black and her eyes light blue, but they flashed a sort of purple colour every time the strobe lights hit them. Dorcas thought she was gorgeous, all angular bone structure and soft stares. A hand on her waist told her all she needed to know. 

“Want a drink?” a sweet voice whispered into her ear. 

“Only if you’re buying.” even Dorcas’ sex drive was not enough to overpower her lack of money. 

She turned around to meet the other girl’s glimmering eyes. She smiled, “Of course.” 

Sliding her hand into Dorcas’, she led her towards the bar. It was quieter there than the dance floor. Dorcas didn’t know where her friends were - having been separated from Regulus and Pandora a while ago - but at this point she was finding it hard to care. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Dorcas Meadowes, you?” she leaned in a lot more than was strictly necessary for the other girl to hear her, but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, when she leaned in herself to reply, she placed a hand on Dorcas’ thigh. 

“Emma Vanity.” The other girl looked into Dorcas’ eyes like she was trying to figure something out, before breathing in to talk again, “Hey, you’re from that new band that’s moved into the Gryffindor Tower studio, right?”

Dorcas nodded in response.

Emma rolled her eyes, “Man, I hate those guys. They always walk around like they rule the world. Especially that Mckinnon girl.” at the surprised look on Dorcas’ face, she pulled back a bit, “Sorry if I offended you or something. I understand if you like them…”

Her voice trailed off as Dorcas leaned in to put less distance between them, looking down at her lips. She didn’t look up when she replied to the other girl, “Most of them are actually quite nice. But ‘that Mckinnon girl’? Yeah, she’s a bitch.”

Dorcas smiled sweetly and closed the distance between them. Before she knew it, she was leading the other girl to one of the graffitied bathroom stalls, barely coming up for air. Dorcas was all sensation; the warmth of hands on her waist, in her hair, moving up along her back. The feeling of soft lips on her neck. For a second it was nice, but then it wasn’t. The hands felt suffocating and the heat turned from pleasant to bruning. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. 

“Wait…” 

The other girl stopped immediately. 

“I need some fresh air.” she let out.

“Okay.” Emma nodded encouragingly, looking up at her, “Want me to come with you?”

“No - no it’s okay.” Dorcas smiled, “I took a pill a while ago and it’s - it’s just getting too hot right now.” 

She nodded in understanding. 

“Call me.” Dorcas added, not looking away until the other girl nodded in response, a small smile forming on her lips. 

Back inside the club, she could make out the figures of Pandora and Remus sitting on top of the wooden bar, laughing hysterically and passing a suspiciously neon green cocktail drink between them. On the dance floor, Sirius, Evan, and Barty were dancing in a little group. To their left, Lily and Mary were batting their eyelids pleadingly at the edge of the stage and giggling between them, probably asking for some song request from the DJ at the front.

No sign of any of the others, but Dorcas didn’t really have it in her to make a head count. She pushed past the crowd of people, fighting the waves of revulsion that came to her any time her skin came into contact with anything. She was feeling too overwhelmed. When she saw a small service door on the side wall, she bolted towards it, sighing in relief. 

The cold air hit her like a person underwater reaching oxygen for the first time. She placed her body flat on the cool brick of the building, closing her eyes and just trying to calm down a little. Her heart felt like it was beating out of her chest. 

“You okay?”

A familiar voice piped up from her right. Dorcas opened her eyes to see Marlene Mckinnon, cigarette in hand. It was just her kind of luck to bump into the exact person she had been avoiding all evening. She was wearing a black distressed knitted top and a short cargo skirt, looking back at her with mild curiosity.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just took a pill and felt a little bit hot so I needed to go outside.” Dorcas clarified with a tight-lipped smile.

“What do you mean? Are you okay? Do you need water or anything?”

Dorcas looked up to see Marlene stepping closer, dark brown eyes flashing something similar to genuine concern or alarm. Was she just mocking her like she did that morning in the common room? Dorcas was sick and tired of being the butt of her miserable little jokes.

“I know what to do if I feel a bit off on drugs.” Dorcas replied, harshly, “I’m not going to fucking overdose, I’m not stupid.” 

Marlene stepped back as if she had been slapped. Dorcas felt a little smug about that. 

“It’s got nothing to do with being stupid - although I wouldn’t really put that past you.” she bit back, any trace of her previous concern gone. 

“Whatever.” Dorcas rolled her eyes.

She wasn’t going to rise to it. She wasn’t going to let the other girl make her lose her temper. She was going to sink back into her whole ‘cool girl’ persona. She was good at that. Years of tone-deaf remarks at her expense had prepared her for this.

“Whatever.” Marlene repeated in poor imitation of her, “Is that the only thing you say?”

Dorcas just remained silent, grabbing a cigarette she had rolled earlier from her pouch and lighting it, breathing in deeply. This seemed to irritate Marlene more.

“I would have expected more from the elite boarding-school student. What did your mommy pay all those fees for, huh?”

Dorcas took another lungful of harsh smoke. 

“What’s all that entitlement worth if you can’t even stick up for yourself?”

She knew when she was being baited. She pushed down the anger that had bubbled up inside.

“Look at you, trying so hard to keep up that whole unbothered vibe you got going on.”

Dorcas felt her cheeks go red. She still refused to even look at the other girl.

“Tell me, who else sees right through it?”

Dorcas threw her burnt-out cigarette on the floor, turning to finally look at Marlene, “I don’t know, maybe as many people who see through your ‘tough girl’ act. Maybe as many people who see that underneath, there is nothing but a desperate little girl who is unable to do anything but throw a tantrum the moment she is ignored.”

The other girl faltered, her eyes flashing with something Dorcas couldn’t quite make out. She might have felt sorry, if she could feel anything other than white hot rage. Marlene just had a way of crawling under her skin. Maybe it was because she was right - she could see right through everything Dorcas was trying to put up, and that unnerved her. Their faces were only a few inches apart; Dorcas could make out the splash of freckles on the other girl’s cheeks and the small coils of baby hair stuck to her face with sweat. Marlene’s breath hitched.

“Fuck you.” she finally let out - defiantly, but with a shaky breath. Dorcas just smirked triumphantly.

“What? Nothing else to say? No witty remark?” Dorcas pouted in mock-disappointment “I expected more from Hollywood’s infamous ‘loudmouth’.”

She turned around and started walking back inside.

“I guess you’re just having an off day.” she added, voice riddled with fake concern, before vanishing through the doorway.