Chapter Text
"Hello!" a wild-haired man accosted her out of nowhere. "It's such a pleasure to meet you, Lily! I'm James, Sirius' co-writer, as you know, probably. You seem like the kind of person who reads their emails. Not that I'm making any assumptions about the kind of person you are —"
"You done?" Although her words were terse, Lily's tone was light. James was a welcome change from her last co-writer, whose monotonous voice could only ever put people to sleep and then possibly give them nightmares.
James whipped off his thin-rimmed glasses so harshly they might've broken had they not also been quite bendy. As he wiped them vigorously, he said, "Almost. How do you feel about trumpets?"
"In pop music? Sadly underrated." Lily shook her head, making her way to the studio in the back.
James beamed so his heart was written all over his face. "I knew it! We're going to get along great!"
"There is no way — no way! — I am working with this — this —" Sirius Black, the Prince of Pop himself, seemed to be at a loss for words as he gestured to a tall, sweater-swathed brunet with three prominent scars beside his left eye, one diagonally across the bridge of his nose, and surgically precise ones just under his bottom lip and below his chin.
"I think the word he's looking for is 'underdog,'" said sweater-boy, also known as Remus Lupin, the indie-electro singer-songwriter whom Lily worked for.
"Siriusly?" James groaned. "We've talked about this. A collab will put you both firmly in the top five for weeks if not months —"
"No, you've talked at me about this, but now you'll hear me out! I am a solo act, James Fleamont Potter!" Sirius' gray eyes were cold as steel.
"He's a big fan of yours," James tried to assure Remus. "Really."
"Oh, I believe you." Remus smirked. "Saw his little fanboy shrine in Studio B —"
"Which I explicitly told you was private! " Sirius cut in.
“Remus!” Lily hissed. “What did I tell you about poking around other people’s private —”
“Sirius!” James balled his fists. “What did I tell you about insulting people when you mean to tell them that you actually like them?”
“Okay, your problem child is weirder than mine.” Lily cast him a sideways glance.
In his peripheral vision — sans the power of his glasses, curse the prominent bridge of his nose — all he saw was flaming red hair. “Wanna switch?”
“No!” Remus protested. “I mean, no offense, James, but… I’ve worked with you and… you’re great, but Lily doesn’t need to be pining for someone from a safe distance to be able to write a good song.”
“I’m a method writer, okay?” James huffed.
Lily felt her heart stutter at the thought of the beautifully bespectacled man liking someone who wasn’t her. Quickly, she shook herself out of it. They’ve just met, after all.
“Who’s the lucky one for today’s writing session?” she asked instead.
Sirius seemed to forget his own troubles as he smiled like a Cheshire cat. “It’s —”
“And a one, and a two, and a —” James hit play on a sampler track and turned up the volume.
Lily pointedly turned the knob back down. “We need to be able to hear ourselves think, no?”
James smiled sheepishly, but all shyness vanished when she complimented his mixing skills.
She tapped her foot to the beat and began humming.
Love runs just like she should
Through meadows and the wood
Like a child she shows me
Who I am and can be
She’s running and
I’m chasing and
We run straight into you
“Hey, Remus, old chap.” Sirius sidled up to him after James had built up the track around Lily’s lyrics. “I feel really bad about the way I acted earlier. Can I treat you to a macchiato? Or a cappuccino? Or pistachio?”
“That’s not even a —”
Sirius elbowed him and wiggled his eyebrows significantly.
“I don’t know what you mean! Just use words!” Remus laughed.
The sound made Sirius’ ears flush. He whipped out his phone and texted him something.
James and Lily watched their exchange curiously.
Remus’ eyes widened at the text, which James assumed was NSFW, knowing Sirius. Then he immediately agreed to go for a macchiato, cappuccino, pistachio, or whatever Sirius really had in mind.
“So… what kind of chorus are we thinking?” Lily asked, snapping him out of his musings.
He’d heard stories about her from other producers, engineers, and eventually, Sirius, who had technically been fanboying over Remus, but one was never mentioned without the other, much like James and Sirius’ own partnership. Working with her now, he still couldn’t believe he’d witnessed her come up with a fully-formed verse on the spot. She had a voice that, while not stadium-worthy, was perfect for a lullaby or singing in the car or karaoke. And usually, James would be itching to try his hand at a chorus, but he really wanted to impress her and it was making him second guess every line that would pop into his head.
“Uh…” he felt his cheeks heat up. “Key change?”
“Stripped down key change?” Lily suggested. “That’s kind of become Remus’ signature —”
“I loved that in ‘Bite Me,’ especially!” James enthused, constructing a sampler on his laptop. “Really brought out the sass.”
“Thank you. I’ll tell him that.” She laughed. She had a lovely laugh.
And James was a method writer.
When you laugh the sound floats up
And I see it meet the sun
All I feel feels like too much
Too soon to say I’m in love
But
When you smile your face lights up
And I feel the world I’ve won
Don’t know what this is yet but
I can, I will, for you, love
In the coffee shop across the street, Sirius checked his watch.
“Okay, knowing James, he’s just revealed his intentions, which are either about to be rejected or reciprocated, so we should go back with a blueberry bagel.”
Remus blinked. “I know those clauses make sense individually, but I don’t —”
“Blueberry is James’ comfort and celebratory flavor,” Sirius explained.
Remus sighed fondly. “I’ve forgotten how high maintenance he is.”
“Oh yeah.” Sirius polished off his coffee (black as his name, he says). “He’s a lot of work.”
“But he’s our lot of work,” Remus finished, slurping up the last of his chocolate milkshake.