Chapter Text
“So tell us, who’s the muse for your music?” asked the interviewer sitting across from Regulus. Her blonde curls were getting squished by the headphones resting on her head and an obnoxious smile was plastered on her face. Regulus hated her. But that was no surprise, he liked very few people in the music industry. However, he couldn’t voice that if he wanted to keep his band afloat. Venomous Vows had been making music as a group for about two years and Regulus wanted to keep making music with them for as long as he could.
Dorcas saved Regulus from answering the question. “That’s a tough one Rita, I would say our lyrics come from many different memories and people. So perhaps life itself?” she said into the microphone in front of her. If it had come from anyone else it would have no doubt come off as corny. Dorcas had a way of making it sound elusive, her voice was a magic thing that did wonders as the lead singer of the band.
The three were all conducting a live interview for some radio station. Barty, Evan, and Pandora were lucky enough to have excuses for their absence. Evan and Barty were effectively banned from all PR events after the two convinced an interviewer that Barty was named Jason and was the president of his groupies’ fanclub. While Pandora hadn’t gotten banned from interviews, she was off at a DJing event as a favour for a friend. This left Regulus stuck here to fake niceties with some reporter. His leg was bouncing underneath the wooden table that held up his sparsely used microphone.
“I was hoping to get some insight from your songwriter, are you sure there isn’t a special someone who gets your pen on paper?” She had him backed into a corner. He had no idea why she phrased it that way, considering most of their songs were about breakups and full of spite.
“As Dorcas said, not necessarily. I’d say our music is inspired by lots of people from different phases of our lives,” he lied straight through his teeth. If Regulus was being honest with himself, his music only came from one summer he seemed to never be able to forget.
“Well, looks like our time together is up. But before you go I just have a question for Regulus about your upcoming tour. Regulus, how does it feel to finally be reunited with the Marauders on the same tour you took when you were in the band yourself?”
Of course. If Rita couldn’t get any juicy details about their dating lives, she’d want to get something out of Regulus’ personal life.
“It will be nice to see my brother and mates again. It’s shocking we haven’t seen each other in two years, but things get busy.” Another lie, or rather a whole string of them. If Regulus was being honest he’d admit this: he was planning to avoid the whole lot of them altogether, specifically James Potter, as much as humanly possible. But he’d rather die before admitting that to an audience that wasn’t his closest friends (and even then telling them wouldn’t be pleasant).
“I can’t wait to see it! Once again, thank you for joining us on Radio X.” Rita had that obnoxious smile again as if people listening in could tell her facial expression from her voice. The smile slid off her face the moment the channel switched to some new single with heavy guitar. Dorcas and Regulus thanked the crew and said their goodbyes. Dorcas waited until they were out of earshot to mock Regulus.
“‘Things get busy’, really Reg?” She put his words in air quotes, “That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever fucking heard.” He scowled at her before responding, “I’m sorry, did you want me to confess how I hate the ‘golden’ James Potter on live radio?” James Potter was practically worshipped in their music scene by almost all fans. For some reason everyone found him so loveable. Regulus ignored the nagging thought in the back of his mind that pointed out he had once loved James too.
“Ahhh, that’s the Regulus I know.” she smiled at him. They were walking down the busy streets of London to their recording studio, which had been made a rendezvous spot for all the members. “I was worried your fame was changing you,” she teased.
“I’m not a sellout yet,” he replied.
“Good, I don’t know what I’d do without your sparkling personality.”
Regulus didn’t have a snarky reply to that, so he rolled his eyes instead. All this did was earn a laugh from Dorcas. He was glad to be doing this tour with his people. He wouldn’t want it any other way.
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“We survived!!” Dorcas announced to the band as she and Regulus walked into the studio. Evan and Barty looked up from the video game they were playing on the plush leather sofa they sat on. Everything about the studio was cosy; from the warm lighting, the abundant furniture you could sink into, and the coffee table that you could perch your feet on. It was a surprise any work got done around there at all. “So, what did Rita try to leach out of you all?” Evan asked. Regulus tried to feign confusion as he replied “Why would she do that?”
“We watched some of her interviews online while you were gone, so we could support you from right here. Every single time she tried to instigate something,” Barty said. “Reminds me of someone I know,” Dorcas added.
“Oh come off, I'm not that bad.” “
You're not, instead of being nosey you're just a pain in the arse.” Regulus quipped.
“Oh stop flirting with me,” Barty got up from the sofa and dragged Regulus to the empty spot next to where he was sitting before.
“To answer your question, she kept asking about our ‘muse’ and whatnot,” Dorcas said as she got settled in. “When I evaded the question she straight up ignored me for Reg’s answer instead. Oi, Dora! Get over here,” she called out. Pandora seemed almost invisible from the computer she was sitting at. She was in her own world with her headphones on and plugged into whatever song she was working on now. She broke out her trance, “You're here,” she said with a smile. Pandora rolled her chair over to the rest of the group, “Are we ready to rehearse now?”
“What else do we really need to practise?” Barty asked, “I mean we have everything down. Dorcas sings the angsty stuff Reggie wrote, he plucks the strings on his guitar, Pandora does her thing on stage, and I impress everyone with my amazing drumming skills.” “And what about me?” Evan asked. “Well, you just have to sit and look pretty while playing the bass.”
“I think we should debut that new song on tour at some point to really get people talking about us. Tons of bands will be there, we have to have something that makes us stand out,” Barty said. While he could seem mischievous and reckless most of the time, everything he did for the band was calculated. He perfected his persona as the wildcard that everyone loved. Barty didn’t seem to care for much, but he took the band and its image quite seriously.
Regulus tensed up when he heard Barty’s idea. The song he was talking about felt impossible to perform on stage to thousands of people. “It’s not ready yet, I haven’t even figured out lyrics for the bridge.” “You’ll be around James enough to figure something out on tour, won't you?” Barty asked as a reply. Regulus turned to glare at Barty. “You know that stare doesn’t work on me anymore Reggie.” “Not all of my songs are about him,” is all Regulus could manage.
“Will you two stop, Ive seen enough fights from you two and I dont want a petty fucking argument to start right before we leave for tour,” Dorcas intervened.
“No, it's entertaining,” said Evan.
“I don’t want to hear it from you,” Dorcas said before turning her attention back to the fight brewing. “Look Reg, I get it. You hate feelings and sharing them and whatnot, but Barty is right about getting attention. We don’t have to use the one you’ve been writing right now but we have tons of unreleased stuff we can use. Can we just figure out what to use so we can practise our setlist? Because frankly I want to get as much rest as I can before being crammed on a plane for hours.”
Regulus knew she had a point. Their band would be the newest one on tour with other groups way bigger than them. Also, it would be hard to escape people accusing Venomous Vows of only getting famous because of Regulus being in the Marauders when the two bands were playing back to back. They had to control the narrative, and to do this they needed to give fans something new to talk about.
“Ok, but we’re not performing anything that I think isn’t ready yet.” Regulus conceded. “I’ll look through the songs we’ve recorded for something,” Pandora chimed in.
It didn’t take long for them to find a song to rehearse. Soon enough instruments were plugged into amps, voices were warmed up, and everyone was in place.
“Are we ready?” Dorcas looked around the recording booth to her bandmates for approval to start. “Alright, 3, 2 ,1,” they broke out into song with a synchrony that came from months of working alongside one another.
What Regulus liked most about performing is how it became muscle memory. Strumming the right chords became second nature when he was performing. He could turn his mind off and just be in the moment with the people he loved the most. However, his mind drifted during their practice.
“Keep quiet, nothing comes as easy as you
Can I lay in your bed all day?
I'll be your best-kept secret and your biggest mistake
Hand behind this pen relives a failure everyday”
“I think it's best we keep this a secret for now,” James was getting dressed and Regulus lingered under the covers the two shared the night before. His mind was reeling about everything that unfolded when James made that comment. “I’m sorry, it's just everyone’s focused on the tour right now and I don't want to spring this onto them.” Regulus looked up at James, “What, did you think I was going to tell my brother we fucked? Or make a public service announcement to the world?” He didn’t want his words to betray how he really felt. “No, that's not what I meant- I just,” James sat down next to Regulus. “I like you Regulus, but I can’t navigate a new relationship with you when there’s so much going on at the moment,” James said while rubbing his thumb in circles on Regulus’ arm. “Until the tour is over, can things just be casual between us?” Regulus felt frozen in place. All he had wanted for months now was for James to want him, and now he had it. Just not in the way he imagined. Regulus couldn’t give up what they had now if it meant the possibility of more later. He wanted to stay in the warmth of the sun, even though he knew it’d burn him raw eventually.
Just as easily as Regulus had been sucked back into the memory from two summers ago he was snapped back into the present. He reoriented himself to his surroundings as his bandmates moved onto the next song on his setlist.
“Reg, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Dorcas noted.
“We couldn’t have sounded that bad,” Evan replied.
“I don’t know, I don’t think your guitar is tuned right,” Barty chimed in.
“No one asked you,” Evan barked.
Soon enough drumsticks were thrown and laughter was spreading across the room. Regulus didn’t join in. He didn’t know how he could make it through an entire tour with his brother’s band.
He didn’t know how he could make it through a tour with James Fucking Potter.
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Regulus wasn’t a stranger to sleepless nights. The longer he spent away from his childhood home it became easier to rest, but still. Tonight he was able to turn his brain off long enough to fall asleep, but was startled awake by something brushing against his window.
He had developed a routine for when this happened. Regulus didn’t need any light to be able to reach into his nightstand and grab his notebook and pen. Once they were on his lap, he closed his eyes and tried to think of lyrics to write down. He wouldn’t turn his lamp on and burn his eyes unless absolutely necessary. This usually ended in two ways: either he came up with new material or he became so focused on writing that his brain could relax enough to fall back asleep. It usually led to him waking up with his journal on the floor and pen stains all over his hands, but it was worth it. Except this night was different. No new words came to mind, only a frustratingly familiar face. He thought of the man he’d have to see tomorrow night after almost two years. He thought of the man’s guitar and the strong arms that played it. Regulus hated himself at the moment. After groaning and fighting the urge to drop out of the tour, Regulus opened twitter.
kai (he/him) @sunsetveins: seeing the marauders in less than 24 hours and I’m starting to actually go feral sOMEONE SEDATE MEEE
Regulus wouldn’t necessarily categorize what he was doing at hate stalking. It was more… exposure therapy. He had to prepare himself for tomorrow.
ollie!! @bartylicious: hot take but the marauders fell off YEARS ago and nobody wants to admit it.
Or maybe regulus was just stroking his ego. It was good to know he wasn’t the only one that disliked the band.
The Marauders had been a band since Regulus’ school days. At first it was just a dream of Sirius’, so it was a dream of James’ as well. Eventually, their wannabe-garage band-pop punk-rocker dreams became more possible as they got more members to join them. The last to join was Regulus himself. He wanted an excuse to spend more time with his brother that didn’t involve any vulnerability or talking about feelings. Instead, he wrote all his feelings out and turned them into lyrics for the band. People seemed to resonate with Regulus’ angsty teenage prose, because they catapulted to fame with their first album. They were in the middle of making their sophomore album when they were invited to the Phoenix tour across the pond.
Now, Regulus was going to reunite with the Marauders on the same tour. The Marauders still had a huge following, but now they also had a slew of people who only saw them as sell-outs and has-beens. A lot could change in two years, Regulus knew this quite well himself.
Regulus scrolled away and quickly regretted it. The next post he saw was from the official Marauders account. It included lyrics from their newest single and some behind the scenes photos from the song’s music video. One of them was a photo of shirtless James Covered in glitter. He was holding his guitar and looking off to the side. His hair was strewn every which way and his glasses were slightly dangling off his face.
Regulus threw his phone across the room. It made a loud noise as it fell to the floor. Regulus didn’t care if he cracked the screen. He didn’t care about anything in the moment other than getting to bed and forgetting what he just saw. He smashed his pillow onto his face and wished he could smother himself to death. His band could find a new bassist in the next six hours, couldn’t they?
Instead, he turned on his bedside lamp and welcomed the blindingly bright light. He hoped it would burn the images in his brain, but there was no success there. He picked up his forgotten notebook and turned to the very first page. Scrawled on it in angry ink were the bitter lyrics:
“stood on my roof and tried to see you/forgetting about me/hide the details, I don't want to know a thing”
Beneath those words read more lines that seared Regulus from the inside out:
“I hate the way you say my name, like it's something secret/My pen is the barrel of the gun, remind me which side you should be on”
Maybe he was petty. Maybe lingering in his heartbreak and negative feelings wasn’t healthy. Maybe he was still hung up on someone he could barely call his ex. Maybe he should just go to bed and stop thinking about all of this. He couldn’t ignore his feelings forever, but he could at least push them down again until morning.