Chapter Text
Sirius plinks a note on the piano in their dressing room, singing softly to match the key.
Remus watches him, playing with one of the hundreds of guitar picks he collects on tour. This one is red, with a picture of James shredding a guitar back in 2013.
Last time he saw Petet, he was triple-checking the set list with Marlene, who also needs to confirm the songs they choose to surprise the audience will be sensible and not lead to another crop of rumours spreading. James is....somewhere.
Remus looks around the room, searching for the taller man.
“Pads, where’s James?” Sirius looks up from the piano and shrugs.
“I think he went to try find a coffee or something. We really need to put a fucking tag on him at this point,” Sirius remarks, smirking at Remus. Remus chuckles, rolling his eyes.
Before Remus can reply, Peter rushes in to confirm the setlist once more. Remus reviews it, nodding his head at the choices that he has already reviewed a hundred times over at meetings, rehearsals and each and every show.
“So we’re opening with Karma as usual,” Remus looks up for confirmation from the other two and they nod.
“Yeah, it’s all the same except we’re swapping out one of James’ set for ‘This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things’,” Sirius points out, tapping the sheet to show the crossed out songs and the notes in the margin.
“So Marlene and James approved this?” Remus asks, and Peter nods, hesitating slightly before speaking again.
“Yeah, she also said you guys need to tone it down again, because the Daily Mail published about you two again and it’s not a great look, you know?” They both nod reluctantly, used to the rules and regulations around the amount of PDA they can engage in, even if it is just eye contact.
Peter nods, clearly not enjoying being the messenger.
“Ok, I’m gonna go find James. We go on in fifteen!” Peter says over his shoulder as he walks out the door. A comfortable silence settles over the two after he leaves,
“Why did you add the song?” Remus asks bluntly, looking up at Sirius. The other boy stops at the piano, turning around to face Remus.
“Well, nobody else knows but,” Sirius gets up from the piano stool, sitting down next to Remus before continuing, “Reg is coming tonight, super last minute thing, and I wanted to make it sorta special for him, you know?”
Remus nods, and is about to speak when they hear the crackle of the intercom signalling they only have ten minutes until they have to go on stage.
“Marlene is going to kill us if we’re late again,” Remus says, and Sirius laughs, throwing his head back. They stand up, grabbing the stuff they need before heading to the main backstage area.
Marlene is there, fussing over the quick change area. Only Sirius has to ever use it, since the others are happy to have one outfit, but the changes still need to as fast as possible.
James is standing with Peter, fiddling with a pick as a team of make-up artists and technicians move around them, making their finishing touches to their makeup and in-ears. They both see Remus and Sirius at the same time, and gesture them over.
“Oi Remus, do you have any spare picks? I only have two and I wanna throw some to the audience, and Marlene says you took them all,” James pouts and Remus laughs, handing over some of the ones he has filling his pockets.
Marlene comes over to them, clearly happy to see every member of the band in the same space at once.
“Ok boys, easy show today alright? Don’t need any drama, any of this fucking ‘errors’ tour, d’accord?” Sirius cringes at her bad attempt at mimicking him, but the others laugh.
“Yes yes, Marlene, we will be good and we will sing and play perfect, right boys?” James says and they all make various noises of affirmation.
“Ok Remus, you do pre-show pep talk as it’s your country,” Sirius says and Remus rolls his eyes. They all turn their focus to him.
It’s a bit nerve racking, like he has to play the best today because it’s his show. His country, the one he always made sure they played in. The one he fought for shows in, proving time and time again that they would sell out.
“Ok lads, níl maith liom ag caint ó gach lá, ach ta a show seo mo brindloidh nios mo. Is brea liom gach daoine anseo, and don’t forget it, alright?” Remus says finally, only being able to find what he really wants to say in Irish.
They all nod, even though Remus knows none of them would have understood a word of it. It was the same at their French shows when they all pretended to understand Sirius’ prattle on.
“Ok, hands in, lads.”
They all put their hands into the middle of the circle. Sirius looks at Remus, who winks back.
“Three, two, one, Marauders!” They all say together. The same slightly cringy tradition they started years ago, but it never seemed to die down.
Next thing he knows, Remus is standing in the left wing, his hands settling on his bass as he waits for his call onto stage.
The lights go down, as much as they can in an open air stadium anyway.
Peter walks out in darkness, but a spotlight of blue shows up for a second as he raises his hands to the audience, his drumsticks held up.
A click in Remus’ ears signals him and he walks out, a flash of green appearing as he gets to his place, settling into his ready position.
James walks out, a flash of red for his split-second spotlight.
Remus takes a deep breath in, steadying himself. The whole stadium is quiet, waiting anxiously. For all the rehearsals the time between James and Sirius never seemed long, but in a stadium filled with fans it seems like fifteen hours rather than fifteen seconds.
In the darkness, Remus sees Sirius rise up from under the stage and lift the microphone to his lips.
His in ears go again, a five second count down.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
“You’re talking shit, for the hell of it,” Sirius sings and the whole stage lights up. He quickly spins around, continuing on the song.
The quiet is gone, replaced with loud of the speakers and the myriad of colours lighting up the stage as Sirius dances, his semi-translucent sparkly top reflecting the lights even more.
Remus watches as he goes right to the front, spinning in sync with a girl at the barrier, and blowing everybody kisses along the way. He reaches the chorus, gleefully singing to the audience.
“Karma is my WHAT?” he holds out his mic as the audience screams back the lyrics.
Remus is smiling too, truly in his element as he plays with his best friends in his home country for the first time in six years.
When Sirius reaches the bridge, he moves back to the center stage, walking over to the rest of the band.
“Karma takes all my friends to the summit,” Sirius points at James, who leans into his own mic.
“Facts!” James yells, the audience yelling right along with him.
Next thing Remus knows, Sirius is next to him.
“Karma is the guy on that screen,” Sirius points at the massive screens, which are currently showing Remus and Sirius, “coming straight home to me!”
He twirls, his long hair spinning with him, winking at Remus as he dances away.
Remus is laughing nearly uncontrollably and the collective yells from the crowd are obvious, making him laugh even harder, which makes playing bass more difficult in consequence.
The song ends and Sirius finally returns to his mic stand, placing his microphone onto it.
“Hello, Dublin!!” Sirius says, waving his hands above his head.
“We are the Marauders!” he pauses as the crowd cheers.
“Before we continue any farther, we have to introduce ourselves!” Remus chuckle as Siris turns around and points at Peter.
“We have the most wonderful Peter Pettigrew on the drums and the keyboard,” Peter does a fairly complex drum solo and the audience cheers for him.
“We have the glorious James Potter on guitar and vocals!” James does a guitar solo and it is followed by the loud cheers of the audience.
“The local Remus Lupin on bass and vocals!” Remus smiles and, copying the others, does his own solo.
“Finally, my name is Sirius Black, and I will be singing for you tonight!” He smirks at the loud applause.
“We’re finally in Remus’ home town!” Sirius says after the loud applause dies down, angling his body to face Remus.
“Country, not town,” Remus corrects and Sirius rolls his eyes, turning around to face the crowd.
“Sure, all the same. Ok, have we got any Irish speakers in this crowd?” Sirius looks around, and Remus nearly breaks down laughing as what Sirius expects to be a full stadium of noise is nearly totally silent except for a few weak cheers.
The whole stadium bursts into laughter, including most of the boys onstage except for Sirius, who turns around to glare at Remus.
“Remus, you told me most people in Ireland were fluent in Irish and they wouldn’t understand me because of my accent.”
“Sure we do. Lads, an bhfuil cead agam dul go dti an leithreas?” Remus smirks as the whole crowd erupts into cheers and applause.
“See? Fluent, gach daoine anseo'' Remus says, leaning back to hide his laugh. Sirius looks around, slowly realising Remus had pranked him.
“Well, maybe I’m the problem?” Sirius says and the telltale backing beat starts as Pete begins on drums.
“I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser.” Sirius sings.
They’d all contributed some blood, sweat and tears for this album, each carefully dissecting their own insecurities and past relationships, and the return of their hard work had been immense, and it was not a stretch to call it record breaking.
Even the tour was a recording breaking, as they finally broke away from their old ways of standing in the same spot and selling the classic ‘boy band’ narrative. They made the setlist more interesting and diverse, which made it far more enjoyable than the previous ones.
“Midnights become my afternoons.”
One of the reasons Remus loved this song so much was because he fought hard to make it the lead-single, against the backlash from the management team that such a depressing song would never make it in the mainstream media.
Now, he got to perform it with his best friends on stage, having no doubt that every person here knew the lyrics and was singing along.
“When my depression hits the graveyard shift, all of the people I’ve ghosted stand there in the room,” Sirius sings as he points at the crowd.
Remus watches him as his boyfriend practically spins from one end of the stage to another, full of energy and joy and excitement. His smile never falters on this stage, his voice never cracks, he always looks like he can’t believe they’re there.
No matter how many times they play the sold out arenas and even when they play the 200 people venues, Sirius is amazed. Now, Remus can’t help but think the boy was born to do this. He couldn’t imagine Sirius anywhere else.
In all of his wistful thinking, the song has ended and Sirius is once again chatting with the audience.
Remus rolls his eyes and leans forward into his own mic.
“Get on with the show Sirius,” He smirks as Sirius turns around, faking outrage.
“Excusez-moi!” Remus just winks in reply and Sirius rolls his eyes.
“Ok, this is ‘Hits Different’!” He says, and cheers go up around the stadium as the song starts.
Sirius moves on quickly afterward, right into the next song, ‘Mastermind’.
Remus semi-zones out, allowing muscle memory to take over as he looks at the crowd. That’s why he’s shocked when suddenly Sirius is right next to him, but smiles confidently, repeating in his mind Marlene’s favourite words, ‘fake it till you make it!”
“And I swear,” Sirius holds out a pinky to Remus, and Remus knows he can’t return it.
“I’m only cryptic and Machiavellian cause I care,” Remus winks at him, smiling reassuringly, and Sirius barely catches it before he’s back at center stage.
The crowd start a loud cheer, and Remus recognises the start of an ‘Olé, Olé, Olé’ chant better than the back of his hand.
“This is why his ego is so massive, lads.” Remus says as the applause eventually dies down. Sirius looks back, giving him an incredulous look.
“Someone’s jealous!” James teases, leaning into his mic as he looks across at Remus. Remus smirks and before James can blink, he turns back to the audience.
“Don’t get me started on jealousy James Potter, you are the most jealous person I’ve ever met!” Remus says with an accusing tone.
“I’d like to share a little story with our audience,” Remus says, bringing his mic out of the stand as he allows his bass to settle on his chest as he tells the story.
“Our dear James here was dating someone and they had the audacity to mention a secret admirer getting them flowers, which as a known celebrity, isn’t surprising. James receives hundreds of marriage proposals weekly!”
The whole audience oohs and James ducks his head in embarrassment.
“The next day, twelve dozen bouquets of red roses were delivered. From whom? None other than Mr. Potter over here,” Remus points at James, who is laughing along at the teasing.
James laughs the teasing off, it’s not like his ex, Regulus, is here to witness it anyways.
Unbeknownst to James, he could not have been more wrong.
Regulus was in fact present and was currently standing in the tent, seething with rage and embarrassment.
“Prick,” he mutters under his breath.
Barty shoots him a concerned look, which Regulus pretends not to see, then looks back at Evan.
“We can leave if you want,” Barty whispers into his ear.
Regulus shakes his head and says, barely audible, “Can’t leave Sirius. He won’t understand.”
Barty and Evan look even more concerned but the next song starts up and Regulus shushes them so he can focus on the stage.
“Your ex friend's sister met someone at a club and he kissed her,” Sirius sings, pretending to be gossiping to James. It was, admittedly, his favourite song to perform. It was fun but also meaningful, and it was all in all a great song.
“Turns out it was that guy you hooked up with ages ago, some wannabe Z-lister.”
James nods along, badly stifling a giggle.
“And all the outfits were terrible” Sirius sings and James finally brings his mic to his mouth.
“2003, unbearable. Did you see the photos?” He sings and Sirius smiles slightly, bracing his feet to push away from the stool quickly.
“No I didn’t but thanks though” he winks at James and turns around to sing to the audience, quickly standing from his stool and walking to the center stage.
He stays there for most of the song, only moving at the end to lean against Remus.
“Yes we were somewhere else,” he sings softly, closing his eyes as the notes fade out and the stage lights dim to black.