That was the thing with Sirius. I never truly knew what he was thinking. He was always hiding behind his barking laughter and dancing eyes. Despite his multiple disguises, I saw him. At least, I thought I saw him. Behind the endless cloud of smoke from his cigarettes he became less hazy. He let his guard down when his smoke screen was up. It was a good ploy. No one pays attention to the smoker on his break.
It's interesting how the most guarded people come undone right before our very eyes. We were just used to their happiness, that when their shadows came out to play, we laughed it off. There's no way someone so full of laughter can do anything but just that.
How long had he been pretending? Did anyone know him? Like, really, really know him? Did his best friends notice these things? I hope so. I liked to think he deserved that kind of release. He obviously didn't get it in the dungy, sunless alleyway next to his bar.
Did the young women he left with know about how he got addicted to smoking? Did they mind if he'd light one up right after they finished? Did he care when he gave them the 'look' and tilted his head to the front door? Or when they ran out crying? Did he get angry when they expected so much of him? Was he relived, when the few that didn't mind the short encounter, left without a fight?
Did he feel anything at all?
Or was he just like me?