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Summary
“Who is this?” James shouted in his ear, “He’s really good.”
Sirius looked up at the small stage to find an unfamiliar face. It was not often they didn’t have at least some sort of idea who was playing, but Sirius had never seen this person before. The guy on the decks was in a dark blue t-shirt, head down, a tumble of light brown curls covering his face and one half of a pair of headphones pressed up to his ear. Sirius could make out a lit cigarette in the corner of his mouth. He was entirely absorbed in what he was doing, parceled up in his own world. The only sign that he was on a stage in front of hundreds of people, really, was the way his head bobbed up and down to the beat.
He nudged Marlene distractedly, “Hey, who is this?”
“Oh, ummm…” she looked at the boy in concentration. Sirius could only make out a few of the words that she was saying, like ‘Rinse’ ‘EX FM’ and something vaguely like ‘He’s really good.’
“What’d she say?” James asked him after the other girl had finished speaking.
Sirius gave him a shrug, “No fucking clue.”
Or: it's the 90s, it’s Summer, Sirius, James, and Peter run a pirate radio station, and Remus has just moved to London.