Taste of Heaven | Jegulus

Unexpected Encounter

The room felt awfully crowded, and he was overwhelmed. Being surrounded by so many talented artists caused his anxiety to skyrocket in a span of mere minutes. He knew that he deserved to be there; he worked hard for it, and he was good, but that didn't change the fact that he constantly wondered if he was good enough.

He dodged people, struggling through the sea of bodies. At one moment, he felt something wet on his chest, and he realized that someone had run into him, spilling their drink on his shirt. The girl staggered forward, and Regulus had to hold her up to keep her from falling.

"I am so sorry," she said, looking truly apologetic. "Those stupid heels would be the death of me. Fuck, I think I may have sprained my ankle."

The girl winced in visible pain, and he gave her a sympathetic look.

"Here," he extended one hand so she could stabilize herself, "let me help you."

"Thank you. I am Mary, by the way," she smiled shyly. "You're Regulus, right? Frank told me about you."

"Yep, the one and only."

"How modest!" they both laughed, slowly approaching the couch against the wall.

"My manager was supposed to bring me some flat shoes, but he's nowhere to be seen, and now he has an injured artist. Just delightful." She let out an annoyed puff, looking at him. "Sorry for complaining to you and for your shirt. It's not my best day."

"No worries, I understand. Happens to the best."

"Yeah, but I am not the best at rocking those," she said, gesturing to her stiletto heels. "They made me wear them because 'I look good in them'. And maybe I do, but I resemble a baby giraffe when I walk in them."

"Mary, dear," came quite a loud voice from behind Reg, "don't disappear on me like that."

The woman looked at the stranger as if she suddenly remembered something, her eyes going wide.

"Jeez, sorry, James. You were in the restroom for such a long time that I completely forgot I was waiting for you."

The man, James, rolled his eyes at her and laughed, and something in Regulus' chest fluttered. Looking at him more carefully, he finally recognized him. He's in the band The Marauders, which has become quite popular in the UK over the last five years. Reg knows that quite well since his estranged brother was one of its vocalists and guitarists.

The last time Regulus has seen Sirius in person was when he left their family home at seventeen, after having endured enough abuse from their awful parents. Reg wasn't mad at him for that, God forbid, but he resented him for not trying to contact him even once afterward, even when Regulus tried to reach out. It wasn't even that difficult considering the fact that he was sent to a French boarding school and neither Walburga nor Orion could intercept his mail there. At least he thought they couldn't, as all of his other mail arrived just fine.

No, Sirius just didn't care about him anymore. He had James. James whom Regulus tried to hate for taking his brother away, but he couldn't. The guy and his family, the Potters, have given Sirius a true and loving family, something that every child deserves to have. Eventually, even Regulus got one, with not one but two siblings.

The Rosiers descended from old French nobility, and although the family didn't have the official title anymore, they were still highly respected in society. Evan and Pandora Rosier, twins, became Reg's best friends when he started his studies in France. When they learned of Regulus' predicament, they didn't wait to mention it to their parents, who were truly appalled when they heard of it.

Those two people, who at that time were familiar with Reg only through their children's stories, wasted no time trying to help. With his approval, they started a battle for his custody, and somehow, using their vast influence, which exceeded even the Blacks', they succeeded in freeing him from those abusive monsters. Only a year after his brother left, Regulus Black became Regulus Rosier.

Seven years have passed since then, eight since he last saw his brother

James looked at him with a weird expression on his face.

"Do I know you?" he asked. "I could swear I've seen you before. Are you an artist? A singer or an actor perhaps?" He shot one question after another, faster than Regulus could possibly respond. "I'm positive I've seen this pretty face somewhere."

"Oh Lord have mercy. You are wasted," Mary complained with a groan. "Great, just what I needed today. Sorry for him, all his filters go off when he drinks."

Regulus chuckled. "Yes, I can see that. Anyway, I'll be right back. I'll get you some ice for that," he said, pointing to her ankle.

He walked over to the open bar and asked for some ice wrapped in a cloth.

The rhythmic beat of music filled the air as the dimly lit party buzzed with laughter and chatter. Regulus wasn't a big fan of crowded spaces but couldn't say no to coming when Frank asked him to. After all, it was the man's birthday, and he was his friend.

Frank Longbottom was also an important figure in the music industry. His agency produced some of the biggest stars of this decade, from musicians to actors and models.

Regulus was none of those, because he was a writer, writing under a pen name at that, so not many knew his face. Frank saw some potential in him when he stumbled upon some lyrics in his flat one day, around two years prior, and convinced him to compose some songs for his agency. Reg wasn't sure if he was fit for the role, as he wrote lyrics as a hobby and not professionally, but a couple of his songs hit the top of the charts, so it turned out that he had a knack for this after all. He worked very hard to master every song that came from him, hardly resting. He knew that one hiccup was all a person needed to fall from the top.

"Here you go," the barman stopped his thoughts, handing him the ice.

"Thank you."

As he was approaching Mary and James, he saw another man crouching down in front of her, helping to change her heels into flats. To his surprise, her manager seemed oddly familiar, and it took Regulus only a second to recognize him.

"Here," Reg said, passing the cold compress to the woman, causing Barty to look at him.

"Thank you so much," she smiled appreciatively. "You're a lifesaver."

"It's nothing. But I advise you to see a doctor; it's starting to swell, and that's not a good sign."

"I surely will." She looked at her manager. "You heard that, Bartemius. To the ER we go."

The man winced. "Don't call me that, for Christ's sake," he said, looking at Regulus. "Thank you for helping her, Reg. I appreciate it."

"Oh, it's nothing. You're Barty, Evan's friend, right?" He asked with uncertainty because he wasn't sure if his brother had made it official already or if he was still hanging on to the 'friends with benefits' thing.

Barty laughed. "Yes, that would be me." He put Mary's arm across his neck and helped her up. "Come on, my star. Let's get you to the doctor. It was nice meeting you again, Reg. See you around, James."

"Bye, guys," Mary waved at him, and he smiled at her, returning the gesture.

An uncertain "Soo" came from next to him. "You must be the famous R.R. that Frank's been talking about. He wants you to write our next album."

Regulus snorted. "Frank must be on something because he knows I would never work with your band," he confessed truthfully.

James looked at him weirdly, tilting his head to one side. "Is it because of Sirius?" He asked. "Because he wouldn't be opposed," he mumbled, his eyes half-open. Regulus couldn't tell if the man was just tired or if it was because of the alcohol.

"You're uttering nonsense. I advise you to cut the night short; you've clearly had enough drinking already." Regulus said, trying to go past him, but the man grasped his wrist and pulled him gently towards himself.

"Maybe it's nonsense, but I meant it when I said you are pretty, very pretty," he said, looking him in the eyes and Reg's insides tied into a knot. He gulped but shook his head a moment later.

"Get some sleep, James, because its lack clearly makes you lose your marbles," he said, freeing his wrist and leaving the man without saying much more.

Truly, having James Potter in his life was the last thing he needed right now, and Frank must be crazy if he thought there would be any collaboration between him and The Marauders.