QL, Round 8 | Wigtown Wanderers | Beater 1 | Write about someone trying to start over
Additional Prompts | 11. [word] reality, 14. [emotion] disappointment

WC: 3000

Warnings: mention of character death

o . o . o

Once Upon a Time in Love

Some things don't change no matter how famous you become. Despite being a world-renowned musician with a currently-chart-topping single, Hugo Granger-Weasley sat on the floor of his childhood bedroom, sorting through his old belongings to help his parents decide what to keep when they moved to their new house. He had promised to come help them weeks ago, but his schedule was so busy and it seemed to be getting harder and harder to find time for these visits home.

He sat down at his old desk, opening drawers and rifling through the masses of papers that littered the inside. As he glanced at them, he smiled, memories of early attempts at songwriting flitting through his mind. It was bizarrely nostalgic, sitting at his childhood desk, looking at lyrics that he'd written before he was old enough to know what any of it meant. A paper that had been shoved at the bottom of the drawer caught his eye, the doodles around the edges standing out amidst the other clean sheafs. Hugo pulled it out, and his brown eyes widened when he realized what it was.

Years ago, when he was sixteen and just starting to border on success, Hugo had written a song for Sophie Longbottom. His very first love, and his very first love song. Somehow he had completely forgotten the very existence of this song. He hadn't forgotten Sophie though. He remembered every detail about her, from the way her golden hair gleamed in the sun to the delightful way she smelled like summer rain even in the dead of winter.

Hugo felt a rush of affection for the girl he used to know, his heart pounding in his chest. God, he missed her. He hadn't realized how much, but now it felt like there was a giant hole punched through his heart. Hugo tried to focus on his task again, but the hours ticked by slowly and he couldn't get Sophie out of his mind.

It was probably a stupid idea, because she almost definitely hated his guts, but he had to see her. He knew she wouldn't take a call from him (and he'd deleted her number long ago after too many beers tempted him to dial it), but he had an idea who might help him.

"Lucy?" Hugo said when the phone clicked on the other end.

"Heyyy, look who it is!" Lucy replied, a laugh echoing in her voice. "What's up?"

"Do you still talk to Sophie Longbottom?" he asked, wasting no time.

"Yeah, sure, why?"

"Do you think… do you think she'd be willing to see me?" He felt oddly nervous about the question.

"No."

The answer took Hugo by surprise - Lucy wasn't typically so blunt. He had always gotten along with her best out of his cousins because they were similar in personality, both quiet and ambitious and sensitive. So it was a shock to his system that she didn't mince words or even try to lessen the blow.

"Hugo, broke her heart," Lucy explained with a sigh. "I don't think she's still actively mad at you or anything, but I also don't think she'd feel there's any reason to see you and open up old wounds."

"You've gotta help me, Luce," he pleaded. "I have to see her."

"Why?"

"I… I think I'm still in love with her," Hugo sighed, letting his head drop into his hands.

"Yeah, no shit," Lucy replied, and he could practically hear the smile in her voice. "I don't think you ever stopped."

"Yeah."

"She doesn't want to see you though, Hugo, you have to respect that. She was absolutely heartbroken when you left."

"I was too, Luce!" Hugo insisted.

She was quiet for a minute, and he started to feel a knot of anxiety in his stomach.

"It's not the same." Sadness tinged Lucy's words. "You got to go off and become famous and have girls swoon over you, and she had to sit at home while her dreams crumbled, picking up the pieces, all while seeing you parade around with bloody supermodels!"

"I never dated any supermodels," he protested weakly.

"Not the point."

"Okay, I get it. But I just… I just need to see her," he pleaded. "Please, Lucy! You're my cousin, you're supposed to be on my side."

There was a pregnant pause and Hugo waited with bated breath.

"Okay, fine," she said at last, sighing dramatically. "But Hugo, I swear to god if she never speaks to me again over this - and she'd be well within her rights not to - I will hold it against you for the rest of your life."

"That is completely fair," he answered, unable to contain his grin. "Thank you, Lucy."

o.o.o

Hugo sat on a cotton candy pink blanket, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the dappled summer sunshine on the fabric. He was remarkably impatient, and he felt like everyone was staring at him. Not the way they usually did - he was used to the gawking of fans and people surprised to see a real, live celebrity in person - but like they knew… like somehow everyone could just tell that he was waiting to see if the love of his life would show up and give him a second chance.

He glanced around again, resisting the urge to anxiously run his fingers through his unruly curls. He'd gotten much better at taming them now, and today he'd made the effort to smooth them back into a neat bun. He definitely didn't want to mess that up by pulling random strands loose with his fingers. No, everything had to be perfect, including him.

Craning his neck, Hugo looked up and down the pathway that wound through the park, searching for any sign of Lucy or Sophie. He would have thought his cousin at least would be easy to spot, with her characteristic Weasley red hair. Sophie's straw-coloured waves might be harder (though Hugo still thought he could pick her out of a crowd any day of the week). But it wasn't Lucy's hair that gave them away… it was Sophie's laugh.

It had been five years since he'd seen her last, but her laugh still sounded like the most angelic music on the planet - he would know it anywhere. He whipped his head around, ignoring the one auburn curl that flew free at the movement. Sure enough, there she was, walking up the sloping lawn, laughing at something Lucy had said. Her golden hair lifted on the wind, and Hugo was so glad he had turned around when he did, because it was a picture-perfect moment.

Until Sophie saw him. Suddenly it was like a storm cloud crossed over her face. She turned to Lucy with an accusatory expression, and even from a distance, he could see the sheepish look on his cousin's face.

Well. This was not exactly how he'd hoped things would go.

Hugo scrambled to his feet as Sophie marched over, her lilac dress fluttering about her knees with every step. He thought she looked beautiful, even with the look of irritation on her face. But then again… when had he ever not thought she looked beautiful?

"I can't believe you're here right now!" she fumed as she drew within a few feet of him. "And tricking me into seeing you - god! Will you ever grow up, Hugo?"

Truthfully, Hugo was a bit disappointed by her reaction. Lucy had said she would be angry, but part of him had really been hoping that she would be pleased to see him. That all those bad feelings from years ago would have dissipated, and she'd find that she still had a soft spot for him.

Hugo opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He couldn't even think of anything to say. How had he not thought that part of the plan through?

"What do you want, Hugo?" Sophie snapped, her hands on her hips. When had she gotten so stern?

"I wanted to see you," he answered lamely.

"Why? You haven't thought about me once in the last five years," she said.

"That's not true!" Hugo protested.

"Drunk calls don't count."

"Can we just sit down?" he asked, desperately trying to regain control over this disaster. He had wanted this to be perfect, and so far it was anything but.

"No," she stated briskly, before taking a deep breath. Some of the initial anger left her eyes, though she still wore a scowl. "Fine."

Hugo let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He took a step back and sat down by the edge of the blanket, while Sophie sat about as far away from him as she could. Her hair hung over her shoulder in long waves, much longer than he remembered. It was pretty though - it suited her.

"I was helping my parents pack things up because they're moving," Hugo explained, reaching into the pocket of his jeans. "I found this in my desk drawer."

He held the folded up paper out to Sophie, and she took it with a suspicious expression.

"What is it?"

"It's a song I wrote."

Sophie tentatively unfolded the paper, her eyes scanning it quickly. He could only wait and hold his breath, with absolutely no idea how she would react to the words on the page. Once upon a time, he'd poured his whole heart into those lyrics, and crude and inexperienced though they might be, he still felt them.

"When the day is grey and ordinary, Sophie makes the sun shine bright," she read. "Am I supposed to be impressed by this?"

Hugo sighed. "I was seventeen, Soph, probably younger when I wrote that. It's not about the words, it's about what they mean. How I felt. How I still feel."

"You've got to be kidding me, Hugo," she scoffed, looking at him with an incredulous expression.

"I…"

"Hugo, how can you possibly think you're still in love with me? You don't even know me anymore! And I certainly don't know you."

Hugo frowned in disappointment. This whole day just kept getting worse and worse. He really hadn't thought that she would still be angry with him after he said he loved her.

"Sophie…" he said, finding his voice somehow. "I do know you. I know you better than anyone else and people don't change, not that much."

"You certainly did," she accused, her words stinging more than a little. "And so did I. A lot's happened, Hugo, and I'm not the same girl you loved anymore."

"What happened?" he asked softly. Part of him was tempted to agree that she wasn't the same girl anymore - his Sophie was sweet and kind and quiet. She never would have been so brusque and unfeeling. "Lucy said… something about you giving up on your dreams. What happened?"

"Aside from my best friend breaking my heart?" She sighed heavily, looking off into the distance. "Dad died, about three years ago now. Mum told me to finish school, that it was fine, but it wasn't. She couldn't manage the inn by herself. It's such a big place and the gardens are such an attraction in the warmer months. She couldn't do it all herself."

"You quit school to help her?"

"Yeah." Sophie chewed on her bottom lip, darkness and despair clouding her eyes. "Anyway, that's reality, not whatever world you're living in, Hugo. Not all of our dreams come true."

She looked away from him, but Hugo could see tears glittering in the corners of her eyes, just waiting to fall. He reached out and placed his hand over hers on the blanket.

"I'm sorry about your dad, Soph. I didn't know," he said quietly, not taking his eyes off her.

She nodded absentmindedly. "You were in Tokyo, I think. Or Germany or something. Lucy said she called to tell you."

Hugo thought carefully, trying to remember. Three years ago… he had been doing a tour through Asia in the fall. A memory flashed through his mind, vague and hazy. Lucy called him in the middle of the night, sounding grim. But he'd been drunk and happy and didn't want to think about anything sad. And he'd barely been able to hear her over the noise of the party anyway, so it was easy to block her out. Had that been why she called? To tell him about Mr. Longbottom's death?

"I… I don't remember…" he whispered, looking down at his hands.

"Yeah," Sophie murmured. She nodded her head sharply and sniffled, wiping the tears away. "Like I said: you're not the boy I loved. I don't know him anymore."

She stood up, smoothing down the skirt of her lilac dress and turning to walk away.

o.o.o

"This is what I was talking about!" Sophie fumed, slamming the door behind her. "You're just not you anymore and I hate it!"

"Of course I'm still me," Hugo replied, feeling slightly confused as he trailed after his girlfriend. "It's just a jacket, Soph…"

"It's not just a jacket! It's everything! It's your hair and your stupid new laugh and your smug attitude! You never used to care about being 'cool' and now that you're going on a big tour, it's all you try to do!" she shrieked, her fists balling up at her sides.

"Look, if you're worried about the tour -"

"God, you just won't listen!" Sophie yelled. "Maybe I should be worried about the tour because I have no idea what this Hugo would do to be popular. My Hugo would never hurt me, but you're not him."

"Sophie, how can you say that?" Hugo asked, his own hurt starting to ignite his temper. "I love you, you know that."

"Yeah," she said, nodding, though her eyes were filled with spite. "Yeah, just not as much as you love being popular."

"You really think that?" He looked at her with big brown eyes, offended by the very suggestion.

"Yeah, sometimes," she answered, suddenly looking sad and a little bit ashamed to admit her doubts.

Had Hugo been sensible, had he not been a hormonal seventeen year old boy, had he not inherited his father's quick temper, he might have taken her in his arms and kissed away her doubts. But instead he felt heat rise in his cheeks as anger twisted inside him.

"Fine then," he said, bristling. "Fine, if that's how you feel. I don't need to be with someone who doesn't support my career."

It was a cheap shot, he knew. Sophie had never been anything but supportive of his music career. But it felt like she was rejecting him and he couldn't take it.

"Fine," Sophie agreed. "If that's what you think, then go."

So he did.

o.o.o

"Sophie, wait!" Hugo said, chasing after her before she had gone more than a few steps. He reached for her hand again, a little bit surprised when she let him hold it. "Isn't there… don't you have any good memories of us?"

"Memories can be distorted," she answered, looking wistful.

Hugo felt like he was banging his head against a wall. Why did she have to be so stubborn? He probably should have accepted everything she said - that she didn't love him anymore and she didn't want him. Except she hadn't said that, not exactly. And he couldn't give up on her yet, she meant too much to him.

"I know you think I'm not the same guy, but I am the one who loved you," Hugo said, eyes pleading. "I tried pretending that I don't give a damn. It was probably the second most stupid thing I've ever done, after leaving you in the first place. I'm sorry, Sophie, I really am. I know I hurt you, but…I still love you."

"Hugo, even if we were the same people," she sighed deeply, her shoulders sagging, "we live in totally different worlds. Reality isn't red carpets and stadiums full of adoring fans screaming your name. It's living with my mum and being a glorified waitress-slash-maid and knowing that my dreams are never going to come true. Those worlds just aren't compatible. You have no idea what it's like…"

"I know," he admitted. "But I can be there for you. You don't have to do everything on your own either, Sophie. I can help you, I can support you the way you've supported everyone else."

"How does that work, Hugo? You spend a year with me and then go off on the next tour and I don't see you again until it's over? Or am I supposed to leave Mum behind to go with you?" She shook her head, agitated. "It's a fantasy!"

"I don't know," he said softly, stepping closer to her. He wanted to hug her so badly. "Do we need to have all the answers right now? Can't we figure some things out later?"

"But what if -?" She looked up at him and Hugo could see anxiety filling her eyes, and he understood what she was asking.

"I swear I won't hurt you again," he promised.

He reached out to brush his fingers over her cheek, cupping it in his palm. His heart soared when Sophie leaned into his touch, eyelids fluttering closed briefly.

"Do you still love me?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," she admitted, so quietly he barely heard her.

"That's all that matters, Soph," he said. "The rest is details."

She took a step closer to him, her fingers finding the hem of his shirt and grabbing onto the fabric like she was afraid he might float away without her. Hugo ghosted his thumb across her cheek again, then moved closer, so that they were only inches apart. Sophie looked up at him, blue eyes pensive, before cracking a small, shy smile.

"Okay."

He smiled widely, leaning down to brush his nose tenderly against hers before kissing her for the first time in five years. It was exactly like he remembered but so much better.