every page that i wrote (you were on it)

The crowd screamed his name, their voices crashing like waves against the stage, but all James could hear was his own heartbeat hammering in his ears. Tour life was everything he had dreamed of—bright lights, packed venues, the thrill of stepping onto a new stage every night. It was also exhausting, a never-ending cycle of soundchecks, interviews, late-night drives, and mornings that came too soon. But more than anything, it was a battle with himself.  

James got out there with his new song, the second to last one on the new album to be released. The song begun, everyone listening and cheering. Just smile. Was all he told himself as he went.

And part of me wants to walk away 'til you really listen
I hate to look at your face and know that we're feeling different
'Cause part of me wants you back, but
I know it won't work like that?

Even after every set, no matter how many hands reached for him or how many compliments he received from the crew, he couldn’t shake the gnawing doubt. Had he really done well? Did his voice crack too much in that one song? Did they only cheer because that’s what fans were supposed to do?  

He pulled out his phone the moment he stepped offstage, sweat still clinging to his skin. His phone rang, just twice, before it stopped and the familar voice filled his ears. "James! You were so-"

"-Tell me I didn’t suck." James interupted quickly, pacing across the dressing room, making sure to keep his eyes open for when Sirius and Remus returned. Regulus paused with shock at the abrupt cut off.

"James,"

"I messed up during it. How bad was it? What do the comment threads say?"

Regulus sighed slowly, trying to mask his annoyance and pity for the other boy. "James, you did great. You know that. You lot had at least two encores." All James picked up from the conversation was his boyfriend's frusterated undertone. His stomach twisted.  "Tell me that you know that."

He exhaled, but the relief was temporary. He knew the feeling would creep back in, just like it always did.

-

The phone call had started the following night, like all the others—him seeking reassurance, his boyfriend trying to give it. But this time, something snapped.

"I can't keep doing this, mate," Regulus sighed, voice heavy with the frustration he typically attempts to mask. "I tell you I love you, I tell you I’m here, and you never believe me. It’s like nothing I say matters. I knew that long distance would be hard, but I didn't think you would end up like this."

James swallowed hard, gripping his phone. "I’m sorry. I just—"

"No, you’re not," his boyfriend interrupted. "You say sorry every time, but then you do it again. And again. I need you to trust me. To trust us. Because I can’t keep proving myself to you when I already have a hundred times. I can't convince you to like your music the way I have been ever since you started writing it."

Silence. The kind that ached.

Then, click. Call ended.

James spent the rest of the day sending apologies—messages that went unanswered, calls that rang to voicemail. And when it was time to go on stage, his head was still a mess. His heart felt like a clenched fist in his chest. Sirius and Remus questioned things, but he couldn't find the words.

So, when the lights dimmed and the microphone was his, he didn’t launch into the next song. Instead, he took a breath. A deep, shaking breath.

"Hello everyone. I wanted to come out here before our show started because there's something important that I want to share surrounding myself and my journey as a musician." He started, scanning the crowd as he spoke. "The album that I wrote didn't take a year because I wrote throughout the year, I wrote all in the last month it came out. I wanted to quit music because I became so worried about how I was coming off to others, how different I may or may not be from last year."

The crowd didn’t stir, didn’t interrupt. They just listened. By the time he finished, his chest felt lighter. Like exhaling after holding his breath too long. And when the cheers finally erupted, they weren’t the usual kind. They weren’t just for the music. They were for him.

After leaving the stage for the final time before travelling to their next location, he switched his phone back on. James just didn’t expect to hear from Regulus again so soon. Not after the silence, the ignored texts, the raw honesty of that show. But then his phone buzzed with a voice memo, no message, just the title, 'Do I wanna Know?'

He pressed play.

It was his boyfriend’s voice—raw, a little cracked in the verses, but full of emotion. The song wasn’t angry, wasn’t bitter. It was vulnerable. A confession of desire, sure, but also love. The chorus hit him hardest.

Crawling back to you
Ever thought of calling when
You've had a few?
Cause I always do
Maybe I'm too
Busy being yours
To fall for somebody new

He sat on the edge of his bunk, listening three times in a row, tears sitting just behind his eyes. Later that night, he called. This time, Regulus answered.

"You wrote that for me?"

"Yeah," his boyfriend said quietly. "We just dropped it. I thought maybe… you'd understand what I couldn’t say over the phone. What you just couldn't hear."

"I never doubted you, not really. I never actually thought I could lose you because of our distance, I just didn't want to become... boring to you." There was a long pause. Then he whispered, "I’m sorry. And I do believe you. I’m just learning how to let myself."

"I know. And I’m still here."

At his next show, he didn’t tell the crowd what song was coming next. He just picked up his acoustic, let the lights dim low, took his guitar slower this time. Softer. A little ache in every note.

Every listened intently, whether because of his mental health announcement last week or because of his interested they truly were in him, James didn't try and guess.

Crawlin' back to you
Ever thought of callin' when
You've had a few?
'Cause I always do
Maybe I'm too
Busy bein' yours
To fall for somebody new

Both bands got a surge in plays that week, fans flooding the comments with love and support. But that wasn’t the best part. Later that night, curled up in the tour bus with his phone in hand, he sent a voice note, too late to call and too important to text. "I think I’m finally starting to hear you. For real."

And his boyfriend replied,"Good. Because I never stopped singing for you."

-

The stadium was louder than ever—thousands of voices chanting, hands in the air, the hum of anticipation crawling up his spine. This was the biggest show of the tour so far. The one he’d been losing sleep over for weeks.  

And tonight, he was closing with final song on his album. The album already preordered, titled "?" until tonight. Every song had been heard and adored, except for the final one, also remaining labelled with a question mark. 

This was the song James had been gradually writing across the entire few months that the album was in process—writing sessions that lasted longer than a handful of hours was not something that James was familar with. For him, writing music could never be artless, this was finally artless.

As the opening chords played and the lights dimmed, he stepped up to the mic. The crowd roared.  

This isn't what you want, it's only how you feel
You openly admit you're far away from healing
And I hate to pull the plug but I think I get your deal
I finally know better than to wait for you back here

He didn’t notice it at first—not until the bridge, when the lights shifted and he heard a harmony that didn’t come from his band.  

He turned.  

There he was.  

His boyfriend, guitar slung over his shoulder, walking onstage like it was the most natural thing in the world. The crowd erupted even louder, gasping and cheering as the two of them locked eyes.  

He blinked fast, his heart racing in a different way now. The harmony continued, and they sang the final chorus together, voices layered and raw and whole.  

It was harsh 'cause I lost what I wanted
I was brave when I kissed you in London

Regulus took hold of his arm, always the hesitant one about going public. When the final note faded, he didn’t even wait for the lights to dim. He stepped forward, wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, and held on like the world had finally stopped spinning.  

And maybe, just maybe, it had.