every page that i wrote (you were on it)

"Are you serious Pete?!" Sirius groaned from inside the office. James set his guitar case down beside the door and sighed, following the sound to the meeting he was half an hour late for. "You had a full month for this!"

"Sorry I'm late, what's happened?"

Remus and Sirius looked over at James and while it should not have been any different than other day, they looked over at James in a completely new light. James froze, thinking back on what they could have seen to make them see him like this. But they must have realized how long it had taken to respond because Remus cleared his throat and looked away. "Peter was supposed to order the posters and book the album release. He also didn't relrease our album announcement. Or book the world tour." 

"It's okay, I'm sure we can-" James started, attempting to find a solution to the problem that he had deemed his responsibility to fix.

"James," Sirius cut him off. "You can't fix this. This is Peter's mistake that now we have to push back the release dates and we're going to lose our tour spot."

James sighed and sat down across from him without saying anything in reply. He was a fixer, that's just who he was, he had to defend Peter even if he was also frustrated over his lazy managing tendencies. Finally, he needed to say something, solutions crossing his mind instantly if it meant helping someone. "We'll do media day tomorrow, posters and album covers. I'll try and wrap up the songs in a week maximum. Our publicity statement on the tour and new album was submitted at the start of the month, I did it. Posters and album copies will be done in a few days. See? It's fine."

"You're a lifesaver, James." Remus let out a sigh of relief, patting him on the back as he walked past. They entered the studio and all that James could bring himself to do after the mess that was yesterday night was play his new song for his bandmates a few times. He returned to the lounge area and promptly fell alseep.

He was standing in a flat, his flat, the one above The Hallow, his dream flat. A girl he didn't recognize was sitting on the corner of the bed. The fireplace in the corner was blazing, making James sweat already. "Who are you?" he found himself asking.

"We met at the party out of town. You promised us a life together." She said, grabbing a flower from the vase on the windowsill. His mother's specialty, always having flowers. James had mentally promised he would always keep flowers for his future girlfriend. She started pulling the petals off, one by one, stopping on the last one. "You don't love me?"

She burst into tears with that before storming off in a rage. "You're own your own, kid." She spat and James froze. Something about being called 'kid' always bothered James. He couldn't explain it, something deeply rooted in his childhood. His perfect childhood. "You always fucking have been."

She stormed out the door of the flat, leaving James feeling like absolute shit and unsure of where to go next. From the looks of the flat, his life had been completely based around her.

"James," a voice called out.

"James. James. James!" He was shaken awake, Sirius hovering over him with a hand on his shoulder. James sat up in one motion and searched the area around him. The Hallow. Not a flat. He had completely sweat through his shirt and was breathing heavily.

"You all right? You were whimpering in your sleep." Remus said from the opposite couch.

James coughed. The clock read two hours since he'd fallen asleep. "Y-yeah, yeah, I'm okay. I need to get some air, though."

James walked out soon after, dialing Regulus' number before he'd even left the building. He wasn’t sure why his hands were shaking. Maybe it was the cold mixed with the terrible dream. Maybe it was the fact that the entire time after thinking of being with a girl he thought of someone else. 

The contact name on his phone screen blurred for a second before sharpening again, Regulus. He shouldn’t call. He shouldn’t. It had been under a day since the last time they spoke, since James ran out of the studio. But James could still remember everything before that. The moment.

The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three Times.  

“James?” Regulus’s voice was raw, like gravel underfoot.  

James swallowed the lump in his throat. “Hey. Can we-can we meet? Just talk.”  

A pause. It stretched, tight and suffocating. “...Fine. One hour. Coffee shop.” The line went dead, but the ache in James’s chest didn’t and it seemed to magnify as he got closer to their meeting spot. The walk to the cafe felt colder than it had any right to be. The wind bit through his jacket, but James didn’t notice with the sweat surrounding him. His head was full of everything they hadn’t said and the burning need to apologize and be apologized to.

When Regulus appeared, it was like being punched in the stomach. Same dark headphones. Same guarded eyes that once let James see something fragile and terrified and real. But now, Regulus looked like a locked door.  “What do you want, James?” His voice wasn’t angry. That was the worst part, it was tired. Like James was just another weight on his shoulders.  

James stood up too fast, hands buried in his pockets so Regulus wouldn’t see how much they were shaking. “I just- I needed to see you. We made something good. You and me. The music-”  

“It’s done,” Regulus cut in, voice like a blade. “I’m done.”  

James felt something crack, small but deep. “Why? After everything? You’re just going to walk away?”  

Regulus turned away, staring out into the dark trees. “You got too close.” His voice was thin, like paper stretched too tight. “Too fast. I told you-I don’t do this. I can’t.”  

“Why?” James’s voice broke open, raw and exposed. He hated how much of a scene this was causing after the night before but he couldn't stop himself. He needed Regulus to know how much this was haunting him. “Why can’t you just let someone care about you?”  

Regulus spun around then, eyes burning. “Because it wasn’t supposed to mean anything!”  

And there it was; laid bare and ugly and true. James took a shaky breath, the words clawing their way out. “Then it's pain that I caught you at a bad time because it did mean something. To me.”  

Regulus’s jaw clenched, but his eyes gave him away. They always did There was hurt there. No, fear. The kind that ran deep, old scars dressed up as armor. “It did to me too,” Regulus said, voice barely a whisper. “And that’s the problem. Because I don’t know how to let it.”  

James placed his hands down on the table, empty and open. He moved them closer to the boy across from him. “You don’t have to know how. Just stop pretending it wasn’t real.”  

Regulus shook his head like he was trying to shake James out of his chest. “You’re impossible.”  

James inched his hands just a little closer, now on the other side of the table. Many possible replies passed through his mind but not a single one of them felt as perfect as the one rotting in the back of his mind. “I love you.”  

"I'm sorry."

For a heartbeat, everything stopped. No words. No music. Just the gravity between them. Fear, hope, and everything left unsaid pulling them together. Regulus kissing him was like falling, like every wall he’d built wasn’t strong enough to stop this. It was messy and desperate, full of all the things neither of them could say without breaking apart. When they pulled away, James felt Regulus rest his forehead against his. His breath hitched, small, fragile, real.  

“I’m scared,” Regulus confessed, voice shaking in a way James had never heard before.  

James closed his eyes, letting the fear settle between them like something they didn’t have to run from. “Me too.” His voice was soft, steady. “But maybe we’re not supposed to figure this out alone.”  

Regulus didn’t answer. But when James reached for his hand, he didn't pull away. That was answer enough.

-

Hours later James found himself back in the studio, thinking on his recent experience. He sat hunched over his guitar, the ache from his meeting with Regulus still heavy in his chest. The melody had come in a rush, haunting, like it had been clawing its way out of him for days. Every strum felt like it carried that strange, electric tension from their conversation. The lyrics spilled naturally, 

That's just the way life goes
I like to slam doors closed
Trust me, I know it's always about me
I love you, I'm sorry

When the last note faded, silence took over the studio. For a moment, no one said anything. James stared down at the floor, chewing his lip, suddenly unsure if it had hit the mark or if it had just been something personal that only made sense in his own head.  

Then Remus broke the silence first. His voice was low but steady, finally looking up from the twirling drumsticks in his hands. "Mate... that's powerful. Like, it actually gave me chills."

Sirius had a look on his face that James couldn't quite decipher. He wasn't joking the way that he normally was but he looked like he enjoyed it. He looked in shock, is what is was. "It’s raw. It’s honest. It feels… bigger than us, y’know? Like it’s not just a song, it’s something people are gonna feel in their bones." 

Peter stood in the doorway, James hadn't even known he'd heard it. "It's fine, put it on the album. What does that make, seven songs? Get five more and we can be done with the nightmare that was this album."

James swallowed hard, the knot of doubt in his chest slowly unraveling. He didn't actually care about Peter's input, he needed his bandmates to enjoy it. And they felt it.

-

The energy lingered as they packed up and made their way to the Valkyries' gig later that night. The venue was buzzing, crowded but intimate. As they watched from the back, James could still feel the echo of their earlier silence, not awkward, but reverent. Like something had shifted between them.  

Onstage, the band was alive. Lily’s voice cracked with emotion, every lyric dripping with vulnerability. Marlene's fingers blurred across the strings, pulling out notes that felt jagged and beautiful, like a wound turned into melody. Mary's piano work fitting in perfectly in a way only she had mastered.

Won't you kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor?
When you get a taste, can you tell me what's my flavor?
I don't believe in God, but I believe that you're my savior

As the music swelled, Sirius spotted Regulus standing near the back, the shadows cutting across his face. The tension between them was an old scar, thick with history, but the music seemed to blur the edges of everything, past fights, cold silences, the years spent not knowing how to fix what had broken between them.  

Without thinking too much, Sirius crossed the room. "Hey. Didn’t expect to see you here."

Regulus turned, his face unreadable at first, but the sharpness in his eyes softened. "Didn’t expect to come. But, James sent me a song he wrote earlier, think he played it for you. He was really glad you and Remus liked it so I figured I should see him again.

Sirius blinked, thrown. "You were with James?"

Regulus nodded slowly, the closing of the song behind them like a heartbeat getting louder, faster. "Yeah. He was dealing with a lot more than you realized this past month with the pressure of making the right songs."

The stage lights shifted, their next song beginning. This one was faster and more of a fun song the Valkyries had been playing at all of their shows. It almost distracted Sirius from what they were talking about. He swallowed hard. "Yeah… I know. He never talks about it, though. Acts like he’s got it all together. For us, for the band. But I see it sometimes… the cracks."

Regulus’s gaze didn’t leave the stage. "He’s the kind of person who hides the worst of it because he doesn’t want to burden anyone. Yesterday he... never mind."

The lights flared again, and onstage, the music got louder. Lily's voice dropped low with quicker breaths between each line, almost like a confession whispered into the dark. In that moment, everything felt stripped back, raw and human. 

Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it chill that you're in my head?
'Cause I know that it's delicate

“We’re not great at this,” Sirius said, voice low but cutting through the music. “You and me. Tell me what you were going to say.”

Regulus finally turned to look at him, the defenses falling away. "No… maybe we're not good at this. He had some sort of panic attack out of nowhere, didn't come back after. I don't know, I figured he needed space but he called me earlier today ready to talk about us."

Sirius pulled his brother in for a hug and Regulus willed himself to stay in it for as long as Sirius wanted to.

It wasn’t everything, but it was a start.  

-

The next morning, James woke with the same dream he'd had yesterday replaying in his mind. It was vivid, unsettling, yet oddly peaceful. You're own your own, kid was what the girl had said to him. Despite his hatred for the statement, it almost made sense to him. Maybe that's why he hated it.

He didn’t wait. The moment his eyes opened, James was in his car and inside the Hallow, pyjamas and everything. He grabbed his guitar and started writing. The melody was softer than usual. His voice, when he sang the first lines, wasn't the best he'd ever done but it didn't matter. 

Remus and Sirius entered soon after and sat down without instruction, waiting for James to start playing as they knew from the look on his face that he had done it again.

"It's perfect," Sirius said. "But you know that."

James let out a small smile and stood up from his stool. He needed to change and get in better shape before going to Regulus' gig tonight, which he had been called and invited to by him.

The venue was different, smaller, more intimate, with dim lights casting shadows on the walls. The energy was quieter with a lesser known band but it was perfect to them. They only have a few songs, but they knew how to play it up.

Mid-set, Regulus stepped up to the mic, eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on James. "This next one’s… something special. I didn't write this one directly, but I'm not sure I've ever found something that I relate to more.

The opening chords hit James like a memory wrapped in sound, soft, familiar, but transformed. Regulus had made it his own, layering a subtle edge of vulnerability beneath the melody. The vocals were raw but steady, carrying the weight of connection and gratitude without having to say the words outright.  

I've been the archer, I've been the prey
Screaming, who could ever leave me, darling
But who could stay?
I see right through me,

Sirius, standing beside James, nudged him lightly. "He’s doing it justice, you know."

James didn’t reply, he couldn’t. His chest felt tight, not in a painful way, but in that overwhelming rush of being seen. He recognized what his bandmates had meant, the song wasn't really meant for him and the Marauders, but it needed to be played.

The song ended, and the crowd erupted in applause, but for James, it was quieter than that. It felt like the kind of closure that opens more doors than it closes.