When The Music Stops

Chapter One: *Gasp* And They Were Roommates

April 2nd

Regulus never felt more alive than when he was singing in front of a packed crowd, lights blaring in front of him, blinding him to anything but shadows and making it easier to forget that he wasn't singing alone in his room.

There was nothing like the rush he felt after finishing a set, when the lights were dim and he was breathing hard, and then the cheering came flooding in. The audience was an ocean, their waves crashing over him as they praised him.

Regulus never felt empty when he was singing. That had been the thing that had sealed the deal for him, the string that tied him to the world of music. Just that feeling, just for a moment.

It was enough to keep him coming back for more.

"Reg, put some goddamn pants on!" Barty screamed from the front door.

Regulus, having just taken a shower and currently on the hunt for something clean to wear, froze. Caught red-handed. He slowly put his hands down, covering his nether regions as he gave his bandmate a glare. "I didn't think you'd be back so early."

Barty let out a cackle. "No, I bet you didn't. Care to tell me why you don't have pants on?"

"Not particularly," Regulus said, sounding every bit the snotty brat he was.

"Okay then," Barty said slowly, closing the door behind him equally slowly. "I'll just be...going to my room then."

Regulus said nothing, watching him go.

Once Barty was out of sight down the long hallway that connected the small front room that held only the entrance to the house, Regulus's room, and a small closet, to the rest of the apartment, Regulus was back in action. He swiftly found a pair of clean pants—Evan's, he decided—and went to the kitchen to make tea.

"Regulus," Evan cheered from the couch. Football was playing on the TV. "Come watch the game with me."

"Sure, why not? Do you want some tea?"

Evan's nose scrunched in disgust. "Not any of yours, thanks."

Regulus, already used to this reaction to his tea, shrugged. "Suit yourself."

As he made tea, he was sure to put a little salt in his tea. It was a strange thing to do, yes, but for Regulus, it was the only way he could drink tea.

Discovering this strange love of salt in tea had been funny once, but now the edges of the memory were tinged with blue, a sadness that slowly crept forward, getting closer and closer to taking all of the joy from that memory.

He could remember it so easily, and as he sipped his tea it played in his head.

Two children sat at a table, close in age and similar in looks. Both had the darkest black hair, although one's was curled and a mess atop his head and the other's was a little longer, almost to his chin and wavy, sweeping back from his face elegantly.

The younger one, with hazel-green eyes and a mess of curls, was sipping his drink, and when he looked up, he smiled. The older one, with blue eyes and long hair, suddenly began to laugh hysterically, clutching his stomach and hunching over in his seat.

"Sirius, what did you do to it? It's delicious!" He exclaimed, staring down at it in wonder.

Sirius reigned himself in enough to answer him. "I put salt in it. I thought you'd hate it and it would be horrible but you like it? Merlin, you're weird."