Moon River

by turnaroundeverynowandthen

During the last leg of an international tour, Rose finds herself at odds with the burgeoning music act she's been put in charge of. Can she manage an out-of-control lead-singer, a familial clash, a rabid fan-base, a demanding record label, and most of all, the ever-increasing hammerings of her heart whenever a certain blonde bandmate appears? Post-Hogwarts. Slow-Burn.

11. Wider Than A Mile

Merry Christmas, Moonies. This chapter has almost 18k words. Perhaps my most challenging and favorite chapter I've ever written.

I hope you enjoy.

Love always.

turnaroundeverynowandthen

—

Lily had not been at the party.

As Rose awoke the next morning; with the unrelenting dredges of tears shed and an unmistakably splitting headache, she phoned her cousin with the intent of a necessary apology.

"What the hell are you on about? I'm back in London…"

Rose froze; her half-lidded and bleary eyes widening momentarily. She was quietly shuffling through the apartment, attempting to hastily pack suitcases and not throw-up. The glitter from the previous night was still stuck in the slight ceases of her eyelids.

"You weren't at Franco's estate last night?", she half-whispered. She selfishly did not want to wake her companions; fearing any imminent interaction she would need to have with each of them.

"What- No? I don't even know who that is…"

Lily's voice was terse. Rightfully so. She and Rose had not spoken with one another in over two months. Rose's fault.

She sighed, wondering what other possibilities she may have imagined the evening prior…

"Well… Then I was very rude to a hallucinated version of you. -And for that, I am sorry…"

There was a pause.

"Rose, are you okay?"

A flash of memory from the previous night floated into Rose's peripherals. Crying into the carpeted shoulder of her aimless friend, then dressed as a tiger…Mina's cruel words…Scorpius's heady, cedar scent…

"If I said yes…would you believe me?", Her own voice sounded so veiled.

Another pause. She could hear Lily breath in deeply.

"So… You hallucinated me at a party last night? You must have been on some pretty strong stuff…"

One thing Rose always appreciated about her cousin, was her unfailing lack of any desire to discuss anything difficult. Something Rose understood deeply.

"It seems so…"

She could hear Lily sigh through the phone, "How did I look?"

"Divine, as always…", Rose snorted, snapping the clasps of Albus's trunk shut.

"I'm somewhat pleased to know it was me who came to you in your intoxicated state…"

Rose could hear a slight turn in Lily's voice, "Perhaps it was your guilty conscience…"

"I'm sorry, Lils…", Rose winced, "I've been busy…"

"Not so busy as to keep from getting blitzed at a party last night!"

Rose quickly took the call in the front room; afraid again of waking the boys sleeping in the room beside her. She was done with her packing, anyways.

"Last night was a fluke…", she sighed, absently scraping a socked foot against the shag of the carpet. It was the lovely tufted kind that one might run a hand though, leaving an imprint of fingers in its wake.

Last night was a fluke. If she had any luck, she'd never have another night like that ever again.

"Did you at least have fun?"

Lily's tone was more of a demand.

Did she have fun last night? She thought of those swirling, shifting magical colors and the musician that had inspired them. That had been fun… More than fun. She thought of the way her insides shifted upon seeing Scorpius on stage; of the aching tears that accompanied.

"I guess…", she kept her voice ambivalent. That had not been fun.

The air between the two cousins was still. All she could hear was the slight crackle of static. She found her foot had traced the looping shape of a heart in the aforementioned carpet. She quickly brushed it away.

"I cried last night. Hard." She heard herself blurting out. She had no idea what compelled her to do so. It was not like her to divulge something so out of character.

"You never cry!"

Lily sounded genuinely surprised. She, of all people, understood Rose's slightly worrisome emotional state. Lily could relate to a life without tears. The ducts of her eyes had been decidedly dry since Rose could remember.

"I know…"

"Was it the come down?"

Although, Rose thought pointedly, her own lack of sadness became readily redirected towards emotions of a different state. Anger. Passion. Fear. Lily seemed to possess a clear absence of any feeling. Perhaps it had been brought on by years of tumultuous familial clashing. Perhaps it was simply inherent to her nature.

"Something like that…"

Either way, Rose was decidedly jealous. Although the tears from the evening prior had dried and the desire to release was no longer present, the dull knotting in her stomach, and the deadened feeling in her chest had not gone away.

"Now you sound like Louie.", Laughed Lily, cueing Rose to the fact that she was done talking about her problems. "If I ever lose him at a party, I can usually seek the nearest water fountain or gazebo…or chalet and, chances are, he'll be there…weeping."

"How is Louis?", Rose went along; thankful for the departure from the conversation that could easily shift towards her less than ecstatic emotional state. She was done talking about her problems too.

"Not sure…", Lily quipped "I left him back in Paris. He's endlessly heartbroken over some Spanish viscount."

Rose had a glittering vision of Louis, lain on the floor of some marbled estate, weeping beneath a man in a giant crown and a large velvet robe.

"What's a viscount?", asked Rose, chuckling to herself.

"Who cares…"

Rose thought for a moment, "Why are you in London, again?"

"Oh…", LIly's tone changed. "Uh- Gran had a pretty bad fall, recently. I'm visiting her at Mungo's…"

Rose felt her insides turn; her foot slipping slightly on the carpet.

"What-"

"-She's fine! She's completely fine, It's not a big deal", Lily cried, almost exasperatedly. Rose got the impression Lily had gone through this conversation a few times already. "Don't tell anyone I told you and don't tell Al. He'll get sick over it."

Rose fell to a cushioned chair besides her. She felt her body rocked by the sudden flood of panic and the quick dissipation. She would not be telling Al… He loved his Gran to a degree that made the rest of the grandchildren feel insignificant by comparison.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?". Her feelings were slightly rocked.

Lily gave an award-winning groan, "The family doesn't want you to worry… They're- I don't know… They're proud of you. They want you to succeed- Especially Gran."

Rose shook her head, unsure of how to respond. She felt slightly sick at the thought of how little her family might think of her with the way she was managing life lately. Or, how poorly she was managing Al…

"Well- I guess, give her a kiss for me. Tell her I'll give her a ring in a few days.", Rose did the mental math, unsure if she would have even a moment to ring her Gran with how the American tour was playing out. It made her feel even sicker than before.

"Do you think she'll want to hear about my exhilarating psychoactive experience?", she teased, needing to lighten the mood inside of her.

"She'll love it." Lily deadpanned.

There was another paused. Rose had a sudden, overwhelming urge to spill everything to Lily from the evening prior…from the past two months. She desperately wanted to talk to her, to anyone, about all the terrible, confusing beauty that she experienced gazing into the eyes of someone who's place in her heart she had refused to give cause to.

"Lils…", she sighed, secret words forming in her mouth before she had the power to halt them. "I have to-"

She was stopped by a steady buzzing from her wand. Red. An emergency. Always an emergency…

"I have to go…", The guilt in her voice was palpable.

Lily clicked her tongue, "Maybe you can call me in another two months…"

"Lily, I said I was-", Rose jumped in.

"I know, I'm joking.", she said, softly.

Another pause. Rose could feel the growing vigor of the buzzing from her wand.

"Rose-", Lily cut in. Her voice had a strained quality to it, "I… I'm pr-"

She stopped, her voice clipped.

"I'm proud of you too…I'll tell the family you send your love…"

—-

Their portkey was delayed by an entire day. An entire day that Mina deemed entirely unacceptable. If they missed the transport, that would bring them to Los Angeles at barely 7pm the following evening. They'd miss their planned meeting at WSR's LA plant and a scheduled tech rehearsal. It simply wouldn't do.

Mina had been surprisingly genial to Rose since the drama from the night before. Perhaps she had felt a deep transforming in her conscience about the harsh way she had spoken to her young collegue. Perhaps it was entirely due to the obvious and continual physical distance between Rose and Scorpius and her kindness was merely a product of her own victory.

Rose guessed the latter.

Her body langue made it clear to him exactly how much they were going to dissect the mishaps of feelings they had unintentionally began to tread on.

Which is to say, they weren't.

Luckily, the morning was so chaotically busy, she barely had time to feel the twisting pang of nausea every time she happened to look his way. Please forget me, please forget me, is what she tried to tell him through any passing, unintentional gaze. Please forget me, so I can forget you…

They were going to have to fly. Actually fly.

There was no way they were going to make it in any sort of reasonable time if they didn't depart the country immediately. They were cutting it close as it was.

In a way that would likely make her late father turn in his grave, Rose had distrust for muggle transport in general. She especially hated aircraft of any type. She had been on an airplane once as a child; a rare visit to her maternal grandparents in Australia. She had vowed to never step foot on an airplane again if she could feasibly help it.

Even the notion of being suspended in the air, contained in a large, metal deathtrap, with nothing but muggle ingenuity to keep them airborne, made the insides of her person begin to carousel with panic.

In her travelings with the band, she made it her business to portkey and apparate them as much as possible. With their old schedules, they could fudge a few hours here and there in order to gain travel clearance.

But that was then…And Mina had decided they were traveling by plane.

So they were traveling by plane.

It was a small plane; private. Their new level of fame acquired certain luxuries. But even the eliteness of their method of transportation did not stop Rose from white-knuckling the armrest of the seat she was in, her heart-rate going about a million miles an hour.

"Are you okay?"

She must be doing worse than she realized if, not one but, two Potters were inquiring about the state of her sanity in less than one day.

She was sat next to Al. She tried not to feel the world-bending crush of her soul when Scorpius deliberately sat with Angele and Mart up at the front, refusing to make eye-contact with her. It was what she wanted…and she knew it was necessary, but it didn't stop her from feeling like maybe she didn't mind if the jet they were sequestered into crashed into the sea; ending all of their menial lives.

She opened her eyes, looking up at her cousin. It was strange to see him regard her in the tender way he was doing. She had forgotten what it was like to have him actually see her. It seemed, these days, his person was wrapped in a veil of self-absorption that clouded everything around him.

"Who, me?", she said through clenched teeth. Their initial ascent had been rough. Rose had almost completely lost the miserable breakfast she had managed to choke down. Now that they were airborne her insides had settled slightly, but her being was far from…okay.

His mouth twisted, "You look ill..?"

"Oh…", she sighed, closing her eyes again, "You know…If I had to choose between booking a three months stay in the largest cellar Azkaban had to offer, or sitting in this plane right now…I'd have to say bonjour to the dementors…"

She heard Al laugh.

"Oh right…You're terrified of heights. Poor Rosie…"

Rose scrunched her eyes tighter. Poor Rosie. Damned if she didn't feel like poor, stupid wretched Rosie right now.

"You're an apt observer, Al", her voice was laced with malice, "Are you going to tell me next that my hair is red? Or that my jumper is grey?"

Al only chuckled, "Alright, alright…I can see you're in a foul mood, I won't pester…"

"Thank-you.", she sighed, cricking her neck slightly.

"-But I will try and cheer you up."

She cracked an eye open, he was grinning at her wildly. She groaned.

"What happened to 'I won't pester'? Are we past that now?", she ran a hand through her knotted ponytail.

"How about a drink?", Al supplied enthusiastically, reaching into the pocket of his jeans. "That always seems to cheer me up…"

Rose shook her head, "Al no. After last night… Nothing but water, from here until…Christmas!"

He narrowed his eyes, "I didn't realize you had become such a pygmy…Getting sick at a party after coming down off Moonstone…I barely felt it. Luckily I met some Italian dryads who were more than happy to give-"

Rose felt her breath catch.

"-You said moonstone? That's what we took last night? Isn't that the main ingredient in-"

She stopped herself. She was never a wiz at any sort of potion-ry, but any witch over the age of fourteen could tell you the stock-list for a love potion.

"-Amortentia, yes. Can you believe they used to let students brew that in school? I think my father might have made a batch or two -in class."

Rose gave a world class performance in the following moments, of someone whose heart wasn't splintering into tiny, shattered fragments and whose mind wasn't wrapping around an obvious but crashing solution.

Of course they had taken a love potion- or some diluted version of one. There was no other way of describing the terrifying urgency and stolen glances that the two had shared. Everything had felt so heightened, so beautifully out of control. Now, it all made sense.

The way his silvery eyes had lit-up upon seeing her. The way the curve of his lips parted upon saying her name "Rose…". The way they both had been pulled, quite on their own accord.

She did not need to beg him to forget her. She was already forgotten. She did not need him to give her up. She wasn't his to give. She did not need to push away the tempting thought of his beguiling hands laced through hers. They would never belong. Never.

She pushed all of this away in a moment, relishing in the minuscule feeling of relief that accompanied her epiphany. They could go on like normal. She could live without him. She could live without him. She could live without him.

Couldn't she?

"Hey-", Al's voice was soft. Maybe her performance wasn't so award-winning. "You're fine. Sorry for calling you a pygmy. We don't need to drink… I won't even touch the stuff. At least until we've landed."

All she could send him was a small smile.

He was silent for a moment, still believing Rose was mad at him for the pygmy comment. She let him.

The plane shook suddenly, bringing Rose back to reality. Her stomach turned, but she appreciated the escape from the harrowing realities of her own mind. She gripped the armrest even tighter, closing her eyes again.

"Remember that song your dad used to sing to us kids?", Al asked, nudging her slightly. "The one about the birds in the candy tree?"

Rose grimanced, "Al- Not right now…"

"Come on, it'll make you feel better."

"Al, no! Please."

"Ohhhh, we're on the way…

We're on the way

We're on the way to the Candy Tree

We're on the way, we're on the way

We're on the way to the Candy Tree

In the candy tree there is a Blimey Bird

The Bird… It makes a sound like this-"

He paused, looking at Rose expectantly

"Fuck-off…", she sighed, through gritted teeth.

Al cackled, "The Bird… It makes a sound like this- Fuck-off!"

"Ohhhh, we're on the way…

We're on the way

We're on the way to the Candy Tree

We're on the way, we're on the way

We're on the way to the Candy Tree"

She couldn't help it. A small smile broke out on her face.

"In the candy tree there is a Rubbish Rat

The Rat… It makes a sound like this-"

She couldn't help it still. She began to laugh. Really laugh.

Then her laughter, made him really laugh. Soon they were cackling like children in the back of the plane. For a moment, she forgot where they were. She was sat in her grandmothers garden, dancing around with her father and favorite cousin like lunatics.

"Oh, Al…" sighed Rose, her fragile laughter subsiding, slightly.

She looked at him, taking in his person with a strange sort of reverence. He had been such a constant presence in her life -she truly couldn't imagine it without him.

There was a fear with Albus that nestled deep, deep down inside of her. One she carried as a melancholic belief in the core of who she was, but one that seemed much more treacherous with her moody and flippant cousin.

In some way or another, she feared he would leave her.

Maybe that's why she put up with so much from him; why she coddled and cared for him. If he left, what would she have left of the fragmented pieces of her youth.

"What am I going to do without you?", she sighed, looking at him softly.

He furrowed his brow, looking at her with confusion, "What do you mean? You'll always have me, Rosie."

"You mean it?", she said, looking at him again.

"It's you and me against the world.", He said plainly, shimmying back into his seat, "It's always been that way and it always will be."

She sighed again, watching as he went back on his earlier sentiment and poured himself a glass of something potent.

His sentiment filled her with slight relief. She would always have Albus. But as she watched him down drink after drink as the flight progressed, she feeling inspired a growing unease.

—-

"I need you to come straight to the office once you've departed the plane. I've already sent a car over for you." Tom's voice was filled with impatience. They were meant to arrive hours earlier and he was a very busy man -so Rose was often told.

"Tom, we've only just landed. If you want I can have the boys take a car while I-"

"-Not the point, darling.", he cut in, "You're the one I want our producer to meet with. We need to get going on this album. He's going to be taking some responsibility off your plate and I want to make sure you two are on the same page-"

Rose felt a slight deadening in her chest. She knew the producer types like the back of her hand. Young, pompous, name-dropping, money-makers. They were often only there to churn out hits- rarely caring about the authenticity of the music.

She sighed, knowing it was her own foley that had gotten her into this situation. Tom had given her more than enough time. Now, she going to pay for it.

"We'll head over as soon as we can", she acquiesced. "We're all looking forward to meeting with the new executive."

"I should hope so…", he cut. Rose could tell he was not in the mood to play nice.

"We'll see you soon. Bye To-"

He had hung up on her before she could end the call.

The conversation with Tom had left a bit of a dampening on her already dreary mood. However, the second Rose stepped off the plane, she felt something shift within her. The sun of the May afternoon was warm and light winds picked up the hairs framing her face. She could swear she could smell the ocean, even though she knew they were miles inland.

Excitement she hadn't felt in a long time, began to creep through her. They were in America. She had really done it. She had really, really done it. She closed her eyes, taking in a solitary breath.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Scorpius looking at her; his face eternally unreadable. He opened his mouth, as if to say something to her, but she turned away. She did not want to soil the moment.

She knew, deep down inside, it would only be a moment.

Angele was prancing down the tarmac.

"Start spreading the news", her earthy accent rolling over the theatrical lyrics, "I'm leaving today"

Mina was quick to follow behind her,

"Wrong state, darling-", she snapped, exasperatedly, "Miss Weasley!"

Rose turned. Her moment was over.

"Angele is running late for a photoshoot. We will meet you at the house after your meeting with Tom, and head over to rehearsal."

Rose frowned, "I thought you were coming to the meeting as well.."

"I think Tom wants to have this talk with just you", said Mina, the corners peaking in her signature not-smile. "Have fun!"

Yes, Rose thought, hoisting a suitcase up and placing a pair of sunglasses over two very tired eyes, The moment was definitely over.

—

They arrived at Weird Sisters Records in such a state of blinding chaos, Rose felt practically winded upon opening the glossy white doors and stepping into the large, sparkling entry way.

Leaving the airport had been a mess. They had been recognized immediately; something Rose was not anticipating. Press in England were docile deer compared to the ravenous ferocity of paparazzi in Los Angeles.

"Mr. Potter! What's your stance on recreational drugs?"

"Malfoy, Malfoy! What's the status of your relationship with Angele? Are you two sexually active?"

"Miss Weasley- Rose! How do you feel about being dumped for a french pop-star? Have you started dating again?"

"Do you like burgers?"

"Where are you staying?"

"How does your father feel about this?"

"Favorite sex position?"

"Who are you voting for?"

"Are you happy to be here in Los Angeles?

"Give us a smile."

By the time they got in the car and began slamming their way through LA traffic, Rose had a splitting headache and an unfortunate curiosity in regards to some intimate details of a certain blonde sitting in the Prius behind her. She quickly nipped that in the bud. The last thing on planet earth she should be concerning herself with was the sexual positioning of anyone -let alone Scorpius Malfoy.

Tom met them in the lobby. He was full of smiles, thankfully. It seemed the impatience from the earlier phone call was tampered in light of their presence. He began to chatter away with Albus, talking the usual industry talk. Flight this, appearance that…Rose was thankful for the momentary reprieve.

The building was impressive; nine floors, all the same glossy white and silver. Moving pictures aligned the lengthy hallways. Performances, recording sessions, award shows. The whole of it was a little overwhelming to Rose.

They reached the end of a large walkway. Tom pushed through two massive double doors, bringing them into a recording booth, carpeted in soft white fur.

There was a man leant over a mixing board. He had headphones on, tinkering with levels and adjusting knobs. Rose steeled herself, ready for what she would have to endure at the hands of this new American executive. She felt herself grimace before she could help it.

"Gentlemen…Rose", Tom's voice stirred the workings of the man at the board. He turned. "May I introduce you to Ira Klein…"

Rose was unprepared for the large smile and hearty handshake that accompanied Ira's grand moniker. He was not what she expected at all.

Ira Klein was not a tall man, but he carried himself with an air that was so warm and inviting, Rose barely noticed that the two of them were practically eye to eye upon shaking hands.

His teeth were white and aligned in that beautifully artificial way most Americans had theirs arranged. It made Rose want to firmly clamp her mouth over her less-than perfect pearly whites. He was not handsome in the classical sense. His ears were much too large and his nose left a bit to be desired, but he was impeccably dressed and there was something about his eyes, and the way they peaked at the corners, that made you feel…safe.

"Ira's been an excellent addition to WSR", Tom rattled on, while Ira went shaking hands down the line of visitors, "He's had just about every job you can imagine in the industry- producing, scouting, writing; he managed The Felicis Four back in their early days."

Rose raised her brow with impress. Her schoolmates had plastered their shared dorm back at school in posters of the band in question. They were wildly successful; being one of the first magical boybands to come to any sort of acclaim. Ronnie Jett, arguably the most handsome and talented of the four, went on to have an even larger success as a soloist. He was still making music to this day.

"-Just until Ronnie left the band to go solo.", Ira cut in, matter-of-factly. His voice was lower than she expected, lilted with a brassy accent she attributed to somewhere other than the easy Californian cadence she was used to. "We were pals back in school, so it made sense. Managing anything, a band no less, is no easy feat."

He looked at Rose and smiled knowingly, "I'm sure Rose here, knows all about that…"

She chuckled, "Well… there are good days and bad da-"

"Didn't you have your own little musical venture at some point?", cut in Tom, looking at Ira as if he already knew the answer.

Ira groaned in pained affect, "Oh Tom…not in front of my new friends. I still want them to find me cool…"

"You had a band?", Rose inquired, her curiosity piqued, "When you were in school?"

"Yes, it was a very impressive venture.", he laughed, "Some might even call our success 'nonexistent'"

"Oh, tell them the name.", Tom delighted, "That's the best part."

There was a pause. Ira sighed.

"Ilver-Horny."

"Wow. That's bloody brilliant.", Albus spoke, reaching out to jovially shake Ira's hand again, "Is it too late to change our name, Rosie?"

"Sorry", Rose said through giggles, "Ilver-horny is out of the question."

Marty was loving it, "Please tell me the bandis still out there, playin' gigs. Oh, I'd do anything to buy an Ilver-Horny t-shirt."

"Unfortunately, no", sighed Ira, his eyes creasing in that same warm way. "Ilver-horny was… forcefully disbanded when our bassist got a bit too carried away with merchandising and charmed our school crest to display the band name."

"Oh, that's so brilliant", cried Albus.

"Only, Andrew was rubbish at charms, so the crest only read 'Horny'. They couldn't change it back for three weeks."

Marty and Albus howled with laughed. Rose decided in that moment, she rather liked Ira Klein.

Scorpius was surprisingly silent.

"So, all that to say.", Tom brought the conversation back around, once the boys laughter had subsided. "Ira's here to help. You especially, Rose. He knows what your job entails, so hopefully you two can find a way to make some magic happen, and get started on that album because we're all a little frus-"

"-I'm really impressed with your catalog.", Ira cut in, turning to Rose, "You've got a lot of really good instincts when it comes to crafting songs. I'm excited to work with that."

Rose turned red, finding it hard to stomach the compliment.

"Thank…you.", she said, wrinkling her nose. She could have sworn she heard a small scoff coming from the group of boys next to her.

"If you're free tonight, we should grab a drink.", Ira beamed, "Tom said this is your first time in Los Angeles. I'd love to show you around. We can chart out a plan. Get a roll on the album…"

Rose was caught off guard by the offer.

"Oh- Shoot. Tonight, we have rehearsal and it's going to run late. This will be our first run-through in the states. I'm sure you understan-"

"-Mina can handle the boys for one evening.", Tom pounced, "I'll let her know. This is more important."

Rose stammered, "No- Tom. It's not-"

"I insist."

Rose could tell he meant business.

"Okay- Yes.", she said, smiling at Ira. "I'd love to."

"Amazing.", he said, giving her a small wink, "I'll pick you up at 6."

Rose was lying if she didn't notice the clenched fist and stone-cold expression of the tallest, blondest member of the band.

—-

The house they were put up in for the week was the most luxurious and massive establishment WSR had booked for them in their career thus far. It could have housed a small army. The ceilings were high with massive windows looking out over the ocean.

Rose gasped upon entering; her eyes going immediately towards the wide, expansive back yard. A large, turquoise pool of water sat situated near a set of steps that led directly to down to the ocean below.

"Albus!", she cried, the rest of the group had slowly began filling into the home. "Come look at this!"

Al was impressed.

"Wow…", he said, upon looking at the pool, "I truly adore being famous…"

Rose could only roll her eyes.

She had minuscule amounts of time to get ready for the evening ahead of her. Fortunately, she had little time to obsess over whether or not her attire was Los Angeles appropriate.

She walked down the stairs, just as Albus, Scorpius and Marty were getting ready to leave as well.

"Oh, I see someone cleaned up nicely for our little American adventure!", Albus cheered, as she went about, clacking awkwardly in her heels.

"Shut-up!", she snapped. "I'm already frazzled as it is. I don't need you giving me a hard time."

Albus cackled, "Aww, is someone nervous for her date with the producer?"

She scowled at him, "Not a date. A dinner."

"Dinner date.", he said, snottily peaking his head out through the blinds to check on Ira's ETA.

"Every interaction I have with a male is not a date, Albus PotterI."

"Ooh, the last name comes out.", He laughed, looking back at her "She must be really nervous, lads!"

Rose had only a moment to see Scorpius launch from his seated position and march towards the stairs above. She heard a loud slam of a door.

It seems she was the only one who noticed.

"I see sports car!", cried Albus, the excitement in his voice inciting an eye-roll from Rose. "Classic sports car. The mans got money, Lucky girl."

The car in question honked. Rose could see Ira make his way out of a cherry-red sports car and head to the front.

She smacked her cousin on the arm. "You need to chill out. And please stay out of trouble while I'm gone."

"I promise!", He sighed, exasperatedly. "Now, go write us an album. Go smooch a producer!"

"Albus!", she cried, yanking the door open to get outside as quickly as possible.

"Have fun on your…date." Was the last thing she heard before stepping outside.

The second Rose closed the doors of the luxurious home behind her and spotted Ira waiting by the car out front, she realized -with panic- that she was getting drinks with a man she barely knew in a city she was completely blind to.

She took in her dress and shoes, his suit and tie, his fancy car…

She was so completely foreign to the social ritual she was about to embark on, she didn't realize what the accoutrement of the next few hours would amount to. A date?

Holy shit, was she going on a date?

'No no…', she mumbled to herself, feeling entirely silly. Albus didn't know what he was talking about. This was professional. He was sent by Tom to help with the album. This is by no means a date. A work outing- yes. Not a date.

When she arrived to the car, Ira was eyeing her with amusement.

"Everything alright? You looked a little hesitant on your way out…"

She laughed, weakly. "Oh- No… I was just worried I had forgotten…my keys."

He bit his lip, closing the door as she slid into the seat.

They drove in silence for a moment. Rose could sense herself growing slightly anxious.

"I like your car.", she said, feeling the leather of the seat with her fingers, "I don't think I've ever seen anything like it before…"

"No classic automobiles in the UK?", he joked, smiling at her.

"None whatsoever.", she quipped, her sardonic nature taking over. "We trash all our vehicles after a decade. Buckingham Palace is simply just a large pile of old cars."

Ira laughed, his hand hitting the steering wheel lightly.

"But no- my dad actually loved classic cars…", Rose said, looking out at the passing palm trees. "He was much more loyal to the English manufacturers, however."

"Ah- so a bit of a nationalist…", Ira teased.

"Very much so…", laughed Rose, beginning to feel a bit more at ease, "My grandfather owned an old Ford Anglia-"

"-Very nationalist"

"-Until my father hijacked it and drove it straight into an enchanted -well, more like cursed- tree while he was at Hogwarts…"

"What'd he do that for?"

"He was late for school…", mused Rose, softly.

Ira chuckled, "That's awesome…"

"Does Ilvermorny have any bewitched foliage?", she asked, enjoying the banter, "Maybe a Passive-Aggressive Palm Tree?"

Ira laughed even harder, "No, nothing that exciting. We did have a large statue of a Pukwudgie that liked to shriek at random."

"I'm sorry, a what?", she cried.

"Pukwudgie?", Ira smirked, "Oh, thats on a need-to-know basis…"

Rose nodded with a slight chuckle. He had a surprisingly calming energy to him that she found she enjoyed.

"So, your dad. How does he feel about Ford Anglia's now? More of a Rolls Royce kind of guy?", Ira continued, jovially.

"Oh-", Rose faltered, awkwardly. It was so rare, especially in her circle, she would ever have to explain to someone exactly why her father had no present opinion on…anything. "He's uh- Well he's…"

Ira brought a hand to his face; his eyes widening with horror. "Oh geez. Shit. I know- I knew that. I'm so sorry…"

Rose shook her head, "It's completely fine… I wouldn't assume anyone would know-"

"-Sorry… I think I… forgot who you were.", he stumbled, "I mean- I guess, I forgot who you were."

Rose winced, giving him a small smile "…It's funny. I actually find it sort of refreshing when that happens… It sometimes seems like people know more about my life than I even do…"

He nodded. They rode in silence for a moment more; the croon of the radio coming in softly.

"-I'm no-maj -uh muggle born, you see.", he supplied, breaking the silence. "I'd never heard about Harry Potter… or your dad till I was at least eleven."

"Really?", Rose exclaimed, "I can't imagine what that must be like… My mums muggle-born, but she's been wizard for so long, she barely remembers life before school…"

"It's wild, honestly.", Ira sighed, "And kind of lonely.. in a way. I'm from Brooklyn originally -large, Jewish family. They didn't take easily to their youngest son getting letters to be whisked off to a strange castle in a forest, to learn 'magic tricks'…"

Rose snorted, "No…That doesn't make the wizarding-community come across very well."

"Boarding school is sort of unheard of here…", Ira continued, "But, it was either bake challah bread for the rest of my life, or take my chances learning 'magic tricks' in Michigan…"

"Whats challah bread?"

Ira blanched, "What's challah bread? Oh my god… You poor girl. I bet you've never even had baklava…"

"Another one of those need-to-know things?", she said, rolling her eyes.

"Exactly…", he said, flashing her a quick smile.

"How do they feel about you being a wizard, now?", she broached, somewhat fascinated.

Ira made an unsure hum, "Well, we try not to get into details… As long as I'm able to make a sizable donation to the East Midtown Jewish Center every month, and show-up for an occasional Sunday brunch, they don't seemed pressed for more information."

"Oh, maybe that might work on my family…" mused Rose, wondering what life would be like if no one in her family ever pressed for more information than was necessary.

Ira laughed, "Does your mother feel like converting?"

Rose looked again out the window, slightly mesmerized by the expanse of wide roads and incongruent buildings; all mashed together and colorful.

"Where exactly are we going?", she asked, almost absently.

"Oh, I have a few places in mind.", said Ira, bouncing slightly in his seat. "Are you partial to sushi?"

Rose laughed, "I haven't had much sushi, to be honest. Al is allergic to shellfish, and we usually work around what he wants…"

Ira nodded, "Understood…"

"I approve of sushi… As long as it's going to inspire us to push out a good album…fast.", she rambled, "I'm sorry it's taking so long- by the way. The new tour schedule has been so insane, we're all adjusting. So, I appreciate-"

"-Hey…", Ira glanced at her briefly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way Rose was growing fond of, "We're not going to talk about the album tonight."

"Oh-", said Rose. Her surprise was genuine.

"I don't want to assume-", he said, moving the large steering wheel left, curving the car around a large bend in the road. "-But I've been where you're at. I've done the crazy tour, I've had a label grabbing at my ankles every chance they could get. I've managed ego's and smoothed scandals…"

Rose winced again. Hearing the reality of her job repeated back to her, so clearly, felt a little bit like someone was looking at her under a microscope.

"-And I know,", Ira continued, "The last thing in the world I needed when all of this was happening, was some detached executive talking my ear off over drinks at some trendy bar on Sunset…"

"Oh..", said Rose, lamely. It was all she could say. She couldn't argue. She couldn't begin to counter. Everything he said was so accurate. Too accurate.

Ira sensed her reprieve in speech.

"So!", he continued, winding them further through a dimly lit residential neighborhood, "I figured, the best thing I can do as part of your management team is give you some space to breath. All I can offer now is one evening… But hopefully- it can do more in terms of creativity than me talking statistics all night…"

Rose didn't know what to say. She was so caught off guard by his compassion. It had been a long time since someone had given her the option -nay the permission- to do absolutely nothing.

"If you want to sit in complete silence this evening, we can do that…", Ira teased, looking her way again.

Rose was taken out of her stupor, "No, no! I'm sorry. I just don't know what to say… That- That's so kind of you. I feel- I don't know how I feel. I'm quite taken aback…"

"Like I said-", Ira brushed off, "I've been where you're at. It's not easy. You're a full time babysitter, essentially, and running a business at the same time."

"Ouch…", laughed Rose, shaking her head.

"It's true! You can't deny it…", He laughed, "Someone's either too drunk, or missing a passport, or avoiding a girlfriend, or heartbroken…"

Rose's mind flashed suddenly to memories from the evening prior, her miserable frame curled into pathetic tears.

"Ouch…", she said softly, the word escaping her lips before she could stop it.

Ira turned, his brow raised, "Oh? Did I hit a sore spot there? Was it the heartache or the bit about the passport?"

Rose shook her head vigorously, laughing slightly "No, no! There's nothing. Nothing at all. We definitely don't need to go down that road…"

Ira made a slight sound of amusement.

"Speaking of roads!", Rose launched, wanting to move the conversation away from any notion of heartache, "Where are we going?"

They had been curving through a neighborhood littered with tiny homes, all nestled behind growing greenery and explosions of purple and pink bougainvillea. The pink of the setting sun was littering through the fences and power lines, giving everything surrounding a blush mosaic.

"Alright.", sighed Ira, coming to a stop near a litter of parked cars. "I'm going to be honest…"

Rose tensed.

"I have a bit of an ulterior motive tonight", He said, tentatively.

"Oh…Is that so?", said Rose, lightly; attempting to keep an anxious tremor out of her voice. Her mind flashed to Albus's earlier sentiments.

'Have fun on your date, Rosie Posie'

If they weren't going to talk about the album, what were they going to talk about? What exactly did he mean by 'ulterior motive'? She felt a pang of panic begin to race through her chest.

Fortunately, it seemed as if he could read her thoughts.

"Oh geez", he said, his eyes widening, "I'm making a real ass of myself tonight, aren't I? I didn't mean that by- Oh man… I'm uh- Rose. You're a lovely girl, but you aren't exactly my type…"

Her brow furrowed.

"In terms of gender…"

She couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Oh, thank merlin…", she sighed. "Albus was convinced this had been orchestrated for… romantic purposes"

Ira gave her a knowing look, and turned off the car. "Well, Albus is an idiot. No. This is date in so much that two very charming and very lovely people are grabbing a bite to eat and commiserating about work, but that is all. I also don't appreciate the idea of tricking someone into going out with you…"

"Well, like you said, Albus is an idiot. And is probably forever stunted in terms of romance.", Rose sighed, "No thanks to me…"

Ira rolled his eyes. "Lets get out. I have something to show you. And just for the record, it's not in or related to romance in any shape or form."

Rose snorted, getting out of the car and walking with him down a slightly worn path.

"What about murder?", she nudged, "Have we ruled out that possibility? This back-alley hike is a tiny bit serial-killer."

"This is show-biz, darling.", he played along, giving her a grin. "Murder is never off the table"

—-

The path, in question, led to a small clearing; the whole of it overlooking a wide expanse of hills and valleys. The view was breath-taking. Clusters of buildings popped up like doll-houses, deep greens and yellows peppering the spaces between. The setting sun glittered off the tiny, winding roads; cars moving below like lazy ants.

Rose went straight to the railing, her eyes wide.

"Oh wow…", she sighed, holding up an hand to shield her eyes from the sun. There were a few other people around; taking pictures and laughing. Rose felt it only added to the simplicity of the moment.

Ira came-up beside her.

"LA is…simultaneously so ugly, and so breathtaking.", he mused. "I think that's my favorite thing about it. This view might be nothing tomorrow; gray skies and smog. But right now- it's perfect."

Rose could only nod. She took a deep breath, inhaling a mix of earthy smoke and orange blossoms.

"If you want to murder me, Ira, I think now would be as good a time as any.", she sighed, closing her eyes and taking in another deep breath.

He chuckled, "You're making this too easy."

"Hmm?"

"My ulterior motive. You're making this too easy for me", he smiled, "I'm trying to get you to fall for this city! I thought we'd at least have to get you some carnitas en su jugo."

"Carn-what-as?"

"Ignoring that.", he laughed, "But I show you one view and you're already head over heels. I can see it on your face."

Rose could only smile.

"Why do you want me so in love with this city, anyways?", she asked after a moment.

He cocked his head from side to side, sifting through ways of revealing his secret.

"Well…", he said slowly, "I want you to come work for me…"

Rose opened her mouth, no words formed.

"I know.", he said, leaning against the railing, as if he felt guilty for even asking, "I know it'd be a complete one-eighty on your life, but I, selfishly…really want you on my team. I've been aware of your work for awhile now. I said it back at the office, but I think you're insanely talented…"

Rose couldn't begin to comprehend the carousel of feelings that were beginning to spin within her. Work for WSR? Move to America? Move to Los Angeles?

"Holy shit…", she breathed, leaning against the railing as well.

"-And just so you know.", Ira said, "This isn't an offer that's now or never. I understand if you need time to think about it…"

She felt a heavy sigh leave her body, "What- What would I even be doing? What would my job entail?"

Ira smiled, the warm eye-crease returning, "You'd be writing…"

She was shocked, "That's all?"

"You'd be a full-time writer…", he said softly, "No traveling, no managing. I want you working with WSR's talent, helping them craft music that feels authentic to their artistry."

"You're joking…", she choked out, shaking her head with disbelief.

"I don't think you realize what a gift you've got, Rose.", Ira said quietly, but earnestly, "You're an excellent manger, there's no doubt about that, but my guess is you don't love it as much as you think you do…"

Rose opened her mouth again, at a loss for words.

"-I hope that doesn't come across as rude, I just feel like you're wasting potential-"

"-What, being a babysitter?", she challenged, feeling slightly uneasy at his calculations of her.

"-Yeah, exactly being a babysitter.", he said, nodding. "I've been there. I've been exactly where you are."

"And, that is?"

"Stuck.", he said, matter-of-factly. "Stuck. By obligation or fear or… I don't know, Stockholm Syndrome."

Rose gasped, but laughed in spite of herself, "You make my life sound horrible."

"I know it's not horrible, Rose.", he sighed, "But you have no idea the kind of life you could have out here…"

She was silent, looking again out on the deep orange and magenta painted hills.

"I just want you to imagine, for a moment…", Ira began, "We're up here. You're looking out on this insane view, and the only thing you have waiting for you when you get back is a deadline for a single song. No shows…No crews… No interviews… No shellfish… No press… No one to push to get up early… No one to force to shower because they've been on a three-day bender… No groupies… Just you…"

Rose did imagine. She thought about how tired she was, how stressed she was, how she could barely sleep, barely eat. She thought about not waking up every morning to shout itineraries and pack suitcases. She thought about Mina's words. She thought about Scorpius's eyes…

The thought; leaving it -all of it- tore in a way she couldn't describe.

"I can see you're taking this very seriously.", Ira cut in through her thinking, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I do want tonight to be a break for you, and I can't have you having an existential crisis in my company, so we don't have to talk about it."

She nodded.

"Just know, the offer is there for you. In one year, in twenty years. Whenever you're ready, I'll take that mind of yours and exploit it for all it's worth."

He laughed heartily at Rose's slightly horrified expression.

"A joke!"

Rose shook her head again, inhaling deeply the woodsy, floral air.

"It's by no means a perfect city…", Ira chimed, "Traffic is terrible, all anyone does is exercise, there's absolutely no viable means of public transportation…it's 6 dollars for a latte!"

Rose couldn't help but laugh, again.

"But, I was at my whits-end 10 years ago…", his eyes were earnest, "And I wish someone had come to me saying 'Here, leave it behind. What's ahead of you is so much better'…Like I'm doing for you now."

"Ira, I-", Rose began, shaking her head.

"-But that's not what tonight is about! I won't mention a single thing more. We're done talking about it. In front of us is a metaphorical table", he widened and expanded his palms in front of the two of them, and mimed placing something delicately down, "And right here is my offer… I'm giving it to you, and walking away. It's yours to do as you please…"

She sighed, smiling at the gesture.

"And, here is me…", she artfully grabbed his metaphorical present and placed it in her open bag, "Taking note."

"And that's all I can really ask for…", Ira acquiesced, placing his hands in his pockets and nodding back towards the car. "Shall we?"

True to his word, Ira did not mention the offer that stood between the two of them as their evening progressed. Rose found herself enjoying his company truly as a friend. He had so much knowledge about the industry, and he was turning to be someone with an ease and charm that exuded towards everyone they interacted with.

From the street vendor; grilling chunks of pineapple to place on al pastor tacos, to the valet; excited to drive a car as enticing as Ira's, they were all met with a friendly handshake and genuine interest.

Rose had a brief notion of how nice it might be to have a friend like him, in a city like this.

"So Ronnie's up on stage, so cranked on pepper-up, that he legitimately can't stop twitching…"

Ira had made good on his promise of sushi. They were sat at a booth, drinking sake and swapping nightmare stories. Rose found all of it very cathartic.

"He's twitching so much, he can't actually play. His hands won't work.", Ira cried, seizing up his fingers to demonstrate, "So, I end-up having to pull a full-on Singing In The Rain, and play all of his solo's for him backstage, behind the curtain…"

"Merlin's beard!", Rose exclaimed, "I hope it never comes to that with us. I'm a terrible musician."

Ira shook his head, the tips of his cheeks were tinged pink with all the sake they had been drinking. "Ronnie always managed put me through the ringer… Especially when we were young…"

"Sure sounds like it…", Rose sighed, pouring the two of them another round of the rice beverage.

"But I think he's sober now…", Ira said, absently rubbing the back of his neck. "I imagine that's what's keeping him out of trouble these days…"

"Do you two not talk anymore?", Rose was suddenly curious.

"Well-no…", Ira said, slowly, "No. No is the real answer. We haven't spoken in almost a decade…"

Rose was surprised by the glimpse of something she saw come over Ira's face.

"Oh?", she said, raising a brow. She had an inkling there was more to the story.

Ira shook his head, "No, no. That's not worth getting into…"

But he had already given too much away.

"No, no!", Rose said, giving him a pointed look, "There's more to this. I can tell. If you and I are going to…"

She paused for added effect.

"-Work together…I need to know more about you. Your little falling out with Mr. Jett is something of importance. Spill it."

"There's nothing to tell.", Ira said, grabbing the large bottle of sake from her.

Rose gasped, "You liar."

"Are you really bartering your potential employment status on me revealing to you why I stopped managing Felicis Four?", he dragged, the hint of a smile on his face.

"Oh, so there's a reveal?", laughed Rose.

Ira sighed, "God damnit."

"I'm not going to work for you just because you spill a secret…", Rose admitted, with a roll of her eyes. "But you should spill the secret anyways."

"Finish your sake and then we'll see."

"Ira Klein, are you trying to get me drunk?", she cried, already picking up the tiny ceramic glass.

"Just drunk enough to agree to abandon your family and friends and get paid a shit-ton of money to write music for me.", he winked, clinking his glass against hers.

The two of them downed their shots. Rose have him an expectant look.

"Alright.", he sighed, pushing a mop of hair back into place, "Ronnie and I were friends -mates, as you call them- back in school. He was, perhaps, my best-mate at one point. We spent summers together, went on trips together… His family felt like my own…"

"Hmm…", mused Rose, placing her head in a rested palm.

"We…got famous. Well, he got famous.", Ira sighed, absently picking up the set of chopsticks to his right. "He just got really full of… Well, you get it. We were working on a third record, working really hard on it, actually. And he came to me…"

Ira paused.

"He came to me, saying he wanted to go solo. He was done with the band, done with getting one-fourth of the attention…"

Rose widened her eyes. She couldn't imagine what that must feel like.

"I realized…", Ira continued, playing with an abandoned bit of wasabi left on his plate, "Well, I realized that in all this time, I thought I wanted success for the band, wanted them to grow and develop… Sell more albums, make more money…"

Rose nodded; urging him along.

"…But, all I really wanted- was Ronnie."

Rose sighed, "Oh…"

Ira's disposition changed suddenly. He leaned slight closer to her, his voice lowering to just above a whisper.

"And Rose…", he said, looking at her in earnest, "The craziest thing… is that he wanted me too. We- we were…for a moment."

Her eyes became the size of saucers, "No…"

He nodded emphatically, almost as if he too was astonished by the fact.

"I hadn't come out yet… He hadn't- Still hasn't.", His voice became soft; far away, "We had a month. One beautiful… perfect month where nothing mattered. We went to Bali…hid from paparazzi, ignored phone calls…"

Rose grimaced, anticipated the falter in the narrative.

"Then, it hit him.", Ira sighed, his voice still low. "What the reality of us would mean. Not just for himself, but for his career…"

"He was convinced he would lose all his fans if they knew…"

Rose cried, "But that's insane. Even back then, being gay wasn't something someone would end a career over…"

Ira just looked at her, "I think it was more than that. But that's what he told himself."

Rose felt her heart ache for her new friend. It ached because a part of her connected with his story…In more ways than even she was willing to admit to.

"Within a month he had signed with new management.", Ira continued, "He began running through so many girlfriends, his reputation was sealed as a real lady-killer. I haven't seen him since Bali…"

"I'm so sorry, Ira", Rose said softly, "I wish I hadn't bullied you into sharing with me…"

He chuckled, grabbing the sake bottle and pouring the two of them another round. They silently clinked their glasses and began drinking.

"It's fine", said Ira, suddenly, "To make up for it, you're going to tell me which one of your Golden Trio that you're harboring amorous feelings for."

Rose almost choked on her drink.

"Excuse me?", she cried, making sure to keep her voice at a reasonable volume, due to their current setting. "That's a very bold assumption."

"My guess is it's not the cousin…Although, I'm not one to judge if it is. I can understand why you've kept it under wraps.", he mused, idly.

Rose felt her insides churn at the thought, "Of course it's not Albus. That's beyond disgusting."

"So, it is one of them then?"

She clamped her mouth shut.

"The little drummer boy seems too…absent for someone of your taste", he went on, smiling lightly, "My guess is…the moody blonde? The one who wouldn't make eye-contact with me earlier today, but gripped my hand so hard during our handshake that I thought I was going to lose circulation…"

"He did not.", she sighed, placing a finger and thumb at her temples.

"I thought the man was going murder me", he laughed, "I couldn't figure out what I had done to offend him so…"

Rose groaned.

"…Then I realized I was asking his…sweetheart out for drinks, and it made a bit more sense."

She narrowed her eyes, "Well, that's where your wrong, Ira. There is nothing of the sort between the two of us. He's actually dating A-"

"Angele? Our french friend from overseas? Who's conveniently signed to our label and touring with your band?"

Rose was silent.

"Now, was that Tom's idea or yours?", he inquired, a knowing grin playing on his lips.

Her eyes narrowed further.

"I'm not managing the band because I'm in love with Scorpius Malfoy"

Ira chuckled, "I don't blame you. He's very talented and very, very handsome."

"Ira-", she cried, smacking a hand on the table.

"-Then why are you doing it?", his voice raised; verging on intensity. "Because I know it's damn well not because of the money. Or the prestige."

"I'm doing it because I enjoy being a part of their success!", she countered, "Because it's rewarding watching their triumphs, and being able to make that happen."

"-And what if we took Scorpius out of the question?", Ira countered back, his brow raised, "What if tomorrow, he was gone; replaced by an equally talented and equally handsome musician? How would you feel about your work?"

Rose opened her mouth to speak, but she could barely put together a rebuttal as the reality of that thought entered her mind. She hated the immediate drop in her stomach. Hated how it twisted with the notion of never seeing his face, or hearing his voice again.

When he spoke, Ira's voice was back to his original softness. "Do you enjoy watching the success, or do you really just love the moments in between?"

He asked it as more of an answer to an unspoken question.

"The late nights?", He leaned in, "The shared jokes… Eating with each other, sleeping next to one another. It's a miracle you two haven't slept together by this point… Unless-"

Rose waved her hands in front of her, "-We've barely ever hugged. It's nothing like that."

"I can't imagine the tension that must be there…"

His words conjured the quickly disintegrating memories from their Moonstone fueled escapade the evening prior. All she had wanted was to touch him, run her fingers through his hair… The notion of her blind lust made her sick to her stomach.

"-There's nothing.", she snapped, suddenly; her voice getting hard, "There has to be nothing, okay?"

Ira held his hands up in surrender, understanding he had crossed a line.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry… I got a little too intense there…"

Rose sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. It was so unnerving the way the mere thought of him put her on edge in such a way.

"If I want to come out alive, in one piece…", she looked at Ira, hoping to convey the vast conflict that had begun to rise within her within the last two months, "He has to be nothing to me…"

Ira was silent for a moment, cocking his head from side to side, like he had done earlier in the day; testing what he wanted to say.

"It doesn't seem like…", he started, "It doesn't seem like it's nothing to him."

Rose dispised the heat that ran through her at the thought. She quickly shoved it away

"It's like you said.", she sighed, perhaps speaking more to herself than the man sitting across from her. "It's the thrill of the unknown. We've spent our entire adult lives in each others company- Of course the tension is there. It'd be impossible not to encounter this at some point."

Ira raised a brow, "So you feel the same way about your drummer as well? Martin- is it?"

"Well-", Rose faltered, almost laughing at the thought of any less than platonic feelings arising for Marty.

"So…", Ira gleaned, "I'll take that as a no?"

"Marty's like a brother", she cried, "Malfoy's…"

Ira cut in, "I'm fascinated by the fact that you call him by his surname… There's got to be something there. Does he call you Weasley?"

Not always… Her mind whispered; thinking again of their shared moments.

Her silence gave Ira the answer her wanted.

"What are you trying to prove, anyways?", she asked, throwing a hand in the air. "That I'm wasting my life away, chasing after a tension that may or may not be there?"

"Of course not. You're much too smart for that", said Ira, seriously. "I just want you to really think about what's keeping you around…"

Rose scoffed, "I think you're just projecting…"

"Oh, I'm definitely projecting,", Ira said, cracking a grin. "But it's only because I see tiny pieces of myself in you…"

"Don't worry.", she sighed. "I won't be running away to Bali with anyone, anytime soon."

"Hmm…", mused Ira, "One thing I've learned in this business, is to try and not make promises you can't keep."

Rose rolled her eyes, but she felt the bubbling of a question; much more serious in nature.

"Do you think what you and Ronnie had was just tension?", she asked, after a moment.

Ira did not seem caught off guard by the question. He was silent; figuring out how to answer.

"I think…", he sighed, "I think what we had was love. From the moment we met one another, it was the pure, unadulterated love of friendship. We watched one another grow into men… We cried with one another… I knew things about him that no one else did."

He tapped his fingers lightly against the edge of his beer glass.

"I don't think the…physicality of our relationship was always there. That didn't come until much later… You know, it's hard to even tell looking back on it. Lines between friendship and romance can get blurred so easily. Especially when you share your life with someone like that…"

"Would you..?", Rose questioned, tentatively, "Would you- If Ronnie came back today… And said he was ready to be with you. Would you go to him?"

Ira took in her question thoughtfully.

"I think the thing I miss, really…", he said softly, "Is the simplicity of all the memories. So many of my thoughts -so many moments I experienced with the band, and even before that… They've all somehow got his face etched into them. Like, carved so deeply. And even though it's been almost a decade, and I've fallen in and out of love over again and built a really beautiful life for myself…"

His voice turned; almost closer to a whisper.

"I'd do anything to be able to think back on those times and not feel pain. It's small and growing smaller still -but it's still painful… Bali is painful, Paris is painful, hearing songs on the radio…some of them, are still painful…"

Rose felt her back hit the soft leather of the booth. Even though he was speaking about himself, she felt again as if she was being looked at from under s microscope.

"And I know…In my wise-old age", he continued, his voice regaining some of it's brightness, "That him coming back wouldn't take away the pain…It would only make the memories more complicated. And, potentially more painful…"

He looked at her, his mouth twisted to the side as if to say 'What can you do?'

"So, no?", she ventured, grabbing her own beer.

"No…", he said, shaking his head. "I can't erase my past, but I can manage my future…And my future does not include pop-stars."

Rose let out a heavy breath, "Oh, cheers to that!"

Ira laughed, clinking his bottle lightly against hers.

They were both silent for a spell. Rose, couldn't help a twisting feeling deep in the base of her stomach. Something about their conversation had gotten to her.

"Do you still love him?", she asked, suddenly; her curiosity getting the better of her. She felt his answer may be an omission of an even scarier truth than she was willing to grab onto.

"I do." he sighed, simply "I love him in a way I'll never be able to comprehend…I'll always love him. I know that."

Rose let out a bit of a whimper, putting her head down in front of her. The sake and the conversation were getting to her.

"Not the answer you were hoping for?", Ira chuckled.

She shook her head against the wood of the table.

"I'm not going to tell you how to live your life, seeing as though we've only officially known one another for less than a day.", Ira soothed, "But love is always a gamble."

"…You can't play it safe. With Ronnie- I sometimes wish I had played it safe. But who knows what would have happened. Sometimes we're just meant to crash into one another -us humans…"

She lifted her head up; scrunching her eyes at him, "What are you even saying?"

"Who knows! This is sake brain talking…", Ira laughed, "Just make sure, whatever you do…"

"Follow my heart?"

"No!", he cried, smacking the table once more, "Make sure you find your way back to me, so we can work together!"

Rose snorted, shaking her head.

"No, being serious now.", Ira said, lowering his voice again, "Don't follow your heart. The heart is for psychos… Your gut is much more important."

"So…probiotics?"

"Shush.", he laughed. "Follow your gut. Your gut has gotten you this far, I'd say you should trust it."

She paused, balling her hands into fist and raising them slightly in the air.

"Trusting my gut!", she mock-yelled, banging her fist lightly on the table.

"Trusting her gut!", Ira said, raising his glass yet again.

They drank the last of their sake, both of them indulging in momentary meditation. Rose wanted to feel triumphant, taking Ira's encouragement to heart.

However, silvery eyes and long, alabaster fingers were where her booze clouded mind refused to stop drifting to…

—

Rose had thoroughly enjoyed her evening.

What had begun as an anxiety filled work-obligation, had turned into hours spent crafting a genuine friendship. Her mind was so jam-packed with sentiment and curiosity and the sense of something new and treacherous on the horizon, she barely knew how to feel.

It was late by the time Ira pulled up in front of the house.

Rose was a bit wobbly getting out; still feeling the effects from the evening of drinks.

"Woah-", cried Ira, laughing. "Okay, you need to act straight, missy. I can't have you walking back into that house falling all over yourself. The boys will have me for dinner."

Rose shifted, stifling her laughter, "I'm good, I'm good. I promise."

"You swear?"

"I swear on a Puke-wudgey.", she implored.

Ira smiled, "Pukwudgie."

"Exactly…", she grinned, having fully righted herself.

Ira sighed, his eyes taking on a somewhat somber expression.

"I'm not going to say goodbye, because I know you'll come crawling my way soon."

Rose gasped in mock affect, "Bold to assume-"

"-I also really, really hate goodbyes.", Ira's eyes crinkled. Warm as ever, "Even if you never decide to make your back to Los Angeles for good. Make sure you give me a ring whenever you're in town."

"Of course.", she sighed, looking over at the massive house. The imposing structure felt like a giant metaphor for her life. Luxurious, vast, confusing and filled with people she had become very unsure about recently.

Suddenly, she heard a slight crash come from inside the house.

She closed her eyes, bracing herself.

Ira raised his eyebrows, "Wow- Never before has a sound brought back so many…harrowing memories. I don't envy you at all."

Another crash. Rose winced.

"Fucking Albus…", she sighed, through gritted teeth.

"Like I said-", Ira said pointedly, grabbing her hand and squeezing it lightly, "Crawling my way soon…Good luck."

She could hear the rev of his engine as she made her way towards the grand entrance. The sounds of growing voices grew louder and louder. Merlin's beard, she had left them for one evening.

"Hello?", she called upon unlocking the door, "Why do I hear sounds of chaos?"

She was entirely unprepared for the scene that was playing out in front of her.

Albus had Scorpius pinned to the ground, a litter of broken bottles was sprayed around them. Scorpius was screaming; his body taut with anger. Albus, surprisingly, seemed to have the upper-hand. Although her cousin was clearly frustrated, it was less as if he was fighting Scorpius and more as if he was restraining him. The whole of it reeked of alcohol, the amber liquid puddling on the floor beneath the two of them.

Marty was doing his best to help, but there was blood pouring out of his nose; his shirt bunched up around his nostrils, staining the fabric bright-red.

"Get the fuck off me, you bloody rat prick!", Scorpius was shouting at Albus.

Rose had never heard him talk like that.

She whipped her head around. Where was Mina? Where was Angele?

"No!", grunted Albus, "You're fucking mental, Scor- You need to calm down!"

Rose was sure she had walked into some time loop. Scorpius losing his mind? Albus telling him to calm down.

"What in the actual hell is going on here?", she cried, rushing towards the scene.

Upon hearing a foreign voice, both boys turned to face her. Albus's eyes held genuine fear, something she had rarely seen cross his features. Scorpius just looked at her with rage.

"Rose, he's fucking piss drunk.", cried Albus, pushing himself off of Scorpius and backing away towards Marty. "I don't know what's wrong with him…"

Scorpius groaned, laboredly getting up off the floor. He looked awful, worse than Rose had ever seen him. His clothes were stained with booze and a few slight cuts from the glass on the floor.

"He was a mess at rehearsal", Albus continued, "He's been pounding fire-whiskey since we got home… I don't know what's wrong with him!"

Scorpius had brought himself upright, the unease of his gait aiding in the effect of Albus's sentiments. His eyes fell on Rose again.

"H'was your date?", he spat; casting his eyes up and down at her, "You look nice 'nough…"

"What-", she smarted, her entire being beginning to fill with anger.

"-He punched Mart, Rose!", Albus shouted, pointing at Marty's bloody exterior. "He's fucking mental!"

Scorpius staggered, his eyes shifting to Mart.

"Geezus…Mart- M'sorry", he mumbled, looking down at himself.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Malfoy?", cried Rose, unable to fully comprehend the madness of what she had walked into.

His face scrunched in anger again, "What s'wrong with you…Weasel?"

Rose opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She was completely astounded. She had never, in all her life, seen him act so out-of-control.

"Okay", she said, after a moment of reorienting herself. "This is all bullshit. You lot are a bunch of children-"

"-He started it-"

"-Who can't seem to care for themselves for longer than two seconds!", she cried, grabbing her wand out of her bag.

She turned on Scorpius. The only benefit of his intoxicated state being her ability to stare him down directly. Something that normally took a small army of feeling inside of her to keep at bay, now felt palatable. She was too busy feeling furious.

"I expect this kind of behavior from Albus.", she jabbed, pointing her wand behind her; the shards of glass began to shift, filtering their way into a trashcan on the other side of the room. "But not you…"

She saw him visibly wince.

It almost made her feel bad. Almost.

"What is wrong with you?", she cried, throwing a hand weakly in the air. She walked over to Marty, his nose still bleeding.

"I've been drinking, or I'd stitch you up with a spell…" she sighed, examining the damage. "Come with me to the kitchen and we'll clean it…"

"Phanks.", Marty said, his voice muffled.

She saw Scorpius's eyes scan over her once more; the mood beneath his exterior shifting.

"Oh, S'I can't have fun, now?", He threw his weight into an out-stretched gesture, "You're allowed to have fun… You had fun tonight."

"I was doing my job!", she snapped, sitting Marty down at the kitchen table.

Scorpius moved towards the pair, barely steadying himself on the rise of a countertop.

"So your job is to go around...having drinks with producers?!", he practically slurred.

"Yeah that's part of my job.", she stamped, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and slamming it shut. She turned back to him "I'm keeping your bloody job-"

"-Don't talk to me about my job.", He roared. She had obviously triggered something within him. His eyes were daggers. She felt she should sense some sort of fear, seeing him so worked up. But, it was, strangely, a relief to see his person filled with anything other than the hollow vacancy that had been there as of late. "You have no bloody clue what I go thou-"

"-Go through!?", she practically screeched, filling the glass in her hand with water. "I'm the one who's making your career happen, Malfoy."

She continued to slam her way through the kitchen; bringing the the glass of water in front of Marty and grabbing the nearest dish towel.

Scorpius was not done. It seemed her arguing was only riling him up. "Right, it's always about what Weasley wants. Everyone listen to Weasley..."

He waved a hand in the air, wildly. Oh, he was so plastered.

"You need to calm down…", she said, her voice like fire.

"Yeah, Scor." Albus piped in; rounding the corner of the kitchen "This is-"

Rose turned to him; the damp dish towel in-hand, pointing towards him in an accusatory manner.

"-Don't you intervene.", she snapped. She had zero patience for Albus. Especially after her earlier conversation with Ira. "This is the pot calling the cauldron black."

She turned to Marty; attempting to carefully clean the caked blood away from his nose whilst her hands were beginning to shake with pent-up anger.

Albus's eyes got wide, looking as if she had just slapped him in the face. "-I'm just-"

"-This is between Malfoy and I-", she growled; casting her eyes briefly in the direction of the raging blonde.

She watched in live-time as Albus turned on her. His eyes narrowed; his head cocking slightly to the side. He was out for blood.

"So how was your little date?", His voice curled. "How was it fucking someone of such an executive status? Do you feel like you've really earned your paycheck?"

She truly could have ripped his head off. Luckily for her, Scorpius was one step ahead of her.

"Don't-", he roared, lunging for Albus, again.

Thankfully, she was able to step between the two quick enough. She shouted cease fire; bracing both palms against Scorpius's chest.

"Stop-", she breathed heavily, pushing him back. They locked eyes for a moment; the fury she had seen earlier was beginning to abate. It seemed there was something about her touch, that had snapped him out of it.

"You.", she said, turning to Albus; her mouth curving with malice. "Shut your god-damn mouth."

"You", she moved, turning to Scorpius. His posture was one of defeat "Go outside. We're going on a bloody walk."

He shook his head, his eyes wearing signs of betrayal. "-Don't tell me-"

"Outside. Now.", she barked, her voice cold. "If you're going to act like a child, you're going to get treated like a child."

He was still not ready to back down.

"I don't have to do anything you tell me to do.", he spat, moving slowly towards her "I'm a fucking rock-star."

His words were like ice straight to her heart; hard, miserable, dirty ice. He was not himself, she knew that, but the sentiment was one of the ugliest thing that had come from his mouth. Was this really what he thought? Deep down inside?

His omission shocked her into silence. It shocked everyone into silence.

As the words rang through the vast, empty house, she watched the reality of it settled into him. He crumpled, his eyes closing, and his hand coming up to grip onto his hair.

"Fuck- I'm not…" he stammered, looking up at her suddenly. His eyes were no longer angry. "I didn't-" His face simply looked broken. Something she found she hated much, much more. "I didn't mean that. Merlin, fuck. I'm- I'm not…"

She put a hand up, silencing him and pointing towards the open patio door.

"Just go outside."

The descent down to the sandy beach below was tense. He was sobering up, but not sober enough to effortlessly walk down a large flight of wooden stairs. She was in no mood to assist, she was still angry.

She had cast off the heels from the evening, finding a small comfort in the give of soft, damp sand beneath her bare feet. She closed her eyes for a moment. It had been a very long day.

They walked in silence. Before their move to the beach below, Rose had forcefully pressed a bottle of pepper-up into his hands, with a direct command of not speaking to her until he had finished the entire thing.

She felt him stop beside her; holding up the empty bottle.

"So, you're ready to have a civil conversation with me?", she said archly. She knew she was being somewhat cruel, but she didn't care. Not in the moment.

"Weasley, I-", he started, his eyes beginning to fill with that same brokenness from before.

She couldn't stand it.

"Don't 'Weasley, I-', me", she cried, "What the hell happened back there?"

He opened his mouth, shaking his head and looking around wildly.

"I'm- I'm…", he started, his eyes going wide, "I'm not bloody okay, obviously!"

"What could you possibly not be okay about?", she cried.

"What are you-", He looked at her as if she was insane; his brow furrowing deeply. "Are you mad?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut in before she could begin.

"This tour schedule is a nightmare, I'm exhausted, I can't leave my own home ever without people taking photos of me or shouting at me…", his voice held a ragged quality.

"I can't eat. I can't sleep.", he continued, his voice rising over the sound of the crashing waves. "I haven't seen my family in ages… I have no clue what my life's going to hold in the future, and the one thing I actually-"

He stopped, suddenly; his hand balling into a fist and falling limply beside him

"What?", she asked, in spite of herself.

He looked at her with those same broken eyes. "Nothing."

"Tell me."

He looked out towards the water. She could see the his jaw clenched in the pale luminescence of the was weighing his thoughts; carefully recalibrating and piecing together the words he was willing to say.

"How was your date?", he sighed, looking back at her. The sentiment did not hold the same spite from earlier. It was defeated, signed off as a term of surrender.

"Are you kidding me?", she cried, her voice rising again. "You are so mental."

Scorpius looked out at the water again "He seemed like a genuinely good guy- Fucking bastard…"

"What are you-" she shook her head wildly with confusion.

"I could see it on his face the moment he met you-", the clench of his jaw became more prominent. "-So bloody into you. It made me sick."

She was so tired of this.

"Malfoy… Ira's gay!", she shouted, her words crashing around them."We spent the entire dinner talking about his youthful affair with Ronnie Jett"

"What."

Scorpius looked almost offended; like he couldn't believe the absurdity of her lie.

"He's gay. As in- He's exclusively into men.", She moved towards him, her words bursting with with self-righteousness anger.

Scorpius shook his head, his brow remaining deeply furrowed "That's impossible-"

She snapped.

"Will you quit it?", Her voice broke, "Even if he was into me, that's not a guarantee for me wanting to jump into bed with him. Or anyone, you assholes."

Scorpius turned, gripping his hair and snapping his eyes shut.

"Fuck…", he sighed, almost to himself "Fuck, fuck, fuck-"

She was momentarily alarmed "What?"

"I am not okay.", he said, through clenched teeth "I am really not okay…"

She felt her insides twist. Her anger was not gone, but seeing him bent over in obvious distress made the burning coil of feeling for him she often kept buried begin to slightly unfold.

"Well… I'm not doing so great, myself.", she sighed, her body falling slightly limp. "We're all a little in over our heads…"

He turned at her omission, his expression unreadable. She let the silence grow between the two of them. Allowing them both to breath.

"Where's Angele?", she asked, absently turning back to the bright lights of the house above them.

He gave her a look. It was momentary, but it read of total exasperation

"Some dinner. They left right after rehearsal", He too turned towards the house above.

Rose sighed, "Did Mina see you in your...state?"

"No.", he said, wincing slightly. "But she saw me lose it at practice"

Rose looked at him dubiously, "You don't lose it."

He shook his head again, running his fingers through his hair.

"I just couldn't get my fingers to...work. Everything I played felt wrong.", he sighed. "Couldn't keep time. Even Mart was frustrated."

The thought of Scorpius doing anything without precision and perfection was practically incomprehensible to Rose.

"That's not you…", she said; partially as an affirmation, but more as a concerned inquiry.

"I'm not me these days.", he said throwing his hands in the air with defeat. "I feel crazy!"

They looked at one another. The silence growing between them again. There was so much unspoken; it made the air around them feel heavy. She felt herself grow slightly weak the longer she stared into his silvery iris's. She needed to look anywhere but…

"You're bleeding-", she said suddenly, catching a glimpse of red stain growing through his white shirt; his right shoulder.

"Ah.", he said, quickly examining the source of the wound. "That might have been the bottle... or five I broke…"

She shook her head, moving toward him slightly. "Let me look at it-"

"-Just leave it. Please.", he said, suddenly, taking a step away from her.

"I'm not going to let you bleed out because you're feeling self-righteous.", she cried, reaching a hand out.

He shook his head, placing a hand over the bloody fabric.

"Let me bleed out- I deserve it.", He said, his voice coating itself in shame. "I can't believe I punched Mart…"

"Why in the world would you punch him of all people?", she asked, realizing she was still unsure of why exactly the violence between the trio had incited.

"I was aiming for Albus…", Scorpius omitted, his voice tracking over the events from only minutes prior. He sounded so melancholy.

"Ah-", said Rose, glibly; trying to lighten the mood. "Well that's understandable…"

He was busy looking back out over the water, his eyes slightly glassy.

"Why was Albus the target of your aggression?", she asked, "You're normally quite docile-"

"-it's not worth getting into.", he cut in. He was still looking away from her.

"Then let me see at the cut.", she sighed, exasperatedly.

"-It's not going to make any sense to you."

She rolled her eyes, the frustration in her voice returning "Neither is anything else you've done this evening!"

He turned back to her, his eyes flashing suddenly. "You're one to talk!"

"Excuse me?", she cried; her eyes going wide.

"Are we ever going to talk about what happened last night?", he burst out. His body was tense; hands flown out beside him, asking the eternal question. "You've got me losing my fucking mind-"

Rose felt her heart begin to hammer in her chest. This is what he was so worked up about?

"-You want me to talk about why we acted the way we did?", She matched his volume. "You want me to talk about the two of us being blitzed on Moonstone!?"

"-You think we felt all that because of drugs?", he fought back, his face contorting towards confusion.

Her mouth flew open "What else could it have been?!"

"How... about real?", he shouted; his voice firm.

Rose froze, her mind going blank. The hammering in her chest aligning to the rapid rising and falling of the waters next to them

"What's even real?", she said, quietly; unsure of what her response even meant.

His eyes flashed again. "You know what- I was right. I can't talk to you about this"

"Talk to me about what?", She stamped, her foot making soft patterns in the sand.

"About us, Weasley.", He bellowed, his voice faltering.

Her eyes smarted. "There is no us, Malfoy!"

His fists clenched next to side; his body going rigid.

"You think I don't know that?!", he exclaimed; his voice rising, "I'm just trying to make it through the day."

She shook her head; her heart hammering still. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Listen, I'm-", He stopped, stuttering over his words. "You're- I'm just trying to play your game!"

She narrowed her eyes. "I don't have a game-"

"-All of this is a game!", His hands outstretched again, gesturing to the house above. "The tour, the fake relationship, the press. This is all you."

He stopped. His voice growing hollow "And then last night-"

"-Forget last night!", she raged, unsure of how their conversation had divulged into this.

"Oh, I'm bloody trying!", he moved forward towards her, his voice on the verge of breaking. "I'm losing my mind trying to forget… But I can't-"

He stopped again. The propelling motion of their anger had left them mere feet from one another. Their breathing was labored, cheeks wind-slapped and red. She knew they were getting into dangerous territory. She knew the smart thing to do would be to walk back up the wooden stairs, back into the large home and forget this whole interaction.

But his eyes were so earnest, and the slight scent of cedar was wrapping around her so delicately.

"Can't what?", she said; her voice coming out tougher than she intended to.

"I can't just forget you!", he breathed, his body going slack "I want to, believe me, I'd like nothing more than to feel like my world isn't ending every time you're not around. And I'm so stupid…"

Another pause. Another crash of a wave.

"And maybe it's my fault-", He continued in earnest, his eyes burning into hers. "Maybe I should have listened to my own heart, and realized all the ways in which I-"

"-Are you still on moonstone?", she jumped, suddenly. Her body filled with a tremor of fear.

"No, I'm not on a fucking love potion!" He actually yelled. He looked like he wanted to shake her. "What we took wasn't a love potion. Why can't you believe that?!"

"Then why now?", she shouted, her insides giving in to the burning curiosity she was having trouble fighting in the moment. "You've had years to say som-"

"Because I'm an idiot!", his voice broke on a strained laugh. He shook his head in incredulity. "Because I'm a stupid boy who's only just realized how much he-"

"How much he what-?" she braced, her arms crossing over her chest.

"How much you mean to me!", He sounded on the verge of breakdown.

The wind whipped the air around the two. Rose was silent; her mind unable to process the reality he was admitting to. Scorpius was silent too; rubbing the base of his neck with anxiety.

Rose felt her legs give. Her body sank to the sand below. She was suddenly aware of the fact that she was still wearing the dress she had donned for her dinner with Ira. The whole interaction seemed ages away.

"Do you remember the show we played in Brussels? The night we fell asleep in front of the hotel in Paris?", he voice came in, softly.

She nodded, weakly.

He turned towards the sea, yet again "I looked at you during that show, while you were watching us off stage… and I- I don't know…"

"It was like something clicked,", he continued, talking towards the ocean waves with words meant for her. "and I was seeing you -really seeing you- for the first time. You looked…so radiant, so beautiful. But it was more than that. It was deeper. I saw you watching us, and looking so proud… I realized that's all I've wanted; all I've ever wanted. It's your admiration... and your-"

His voice caught.

"-The glimpse of it made me practically fall off the fucking stage. It's haunted me. It's changed every memory- I can't think of any time we've shared together that hasn't led to me obviously ignoring the way I felt about you…"

Her heart began to pound again. This time with a different sort of energy. This heartbeat felt lighter; dizzying almost.

He sat on the sand as well; making sure to keep a distance from her. She could have sworn, however, she felt his heat from where she sat.

"Like how I hated Allen.", He confessed towards the moon, his cadence holding hints of embarrassment.

Rose heard herself bark out a weak laugh. "You hated him?"

Her ex-boyfriend was possibly the least affecting person she had encountered in her life. The fact that they had dated for almost two years was due to the fact that most of the time she forgot she was actually romantically involved with him.

Her mind filtered towards the dating history of the boy sitting in the sand next to her. She couldn't recall ever harboring fond feelings towards any of his girlfriends…

"Yes!", he laughed as well "I couldn't stand him. And, really, his only sin was being an exquisite bore…"

His look changed; something about the air of conversation between the two spurring him on, something about her light laughter.

"Well that…", he sighed, "And him holding the key to your affections. That I never understood-"

She didn't know what to say. Her heart was still hammering in that dizzy, frenetic way.

"Oh, and remember my 22nd birthday?", he said, turning towards her; his eyes sparkling slightly. "Remember we were so broke and stranded and it was freezing? We bought train tickets and took the Bergen Railway for hours, just so we could stay warm…"

She did remember. It felt like lifetimes ago.

"And you and Al busked up and down the aisles just so you could buy me a tiny cake from the trolley…", he sighed, the recollection sending a small smile on his face. "It's one of my favorite memories… And every time I think of it now, all I can see you sitting next to me in the tiny train booth, your smile... laughing so hard, we were crying... And you getting up and performing, even though I know you absolutely hate that."

She smiled too. She had hated it. Or, at least, she thought she did. In the moment, it wasn't even a question. She would have done anything for him. She would always do anything for him. The realization of that struck her deeply.

She felt like she had been punched in the stomach. But- not in a way that she hated.

He breathed, again. Looking outwards "You fell asleep on my shoulder that night -or morning- back in Paris, and it… I don't know"

Her chest was beating so wildly, she felt she might pass out "It what..?"

"It was the happiest and most terrifying moment of my life.", he said simply, looking back at her; his voice treacherous "There was no where else I'd rather be. No where."

Her face must have betrayed it's emotionless resolve, because he moved; continuing with intensity.

"And you- You keep everyone at a distance. I'd never want to put you in a situation where you feel uncomfortable.", Scorpius looked down, his hands idly tapping the sand beneath him. "But I thought… I thought maybe, just maybe I wasn't crazy. That whenever I was looking at you, you were looking back at me. And maybe you were just as scared and just and confused as I was-"

She couldn't speak. She couldn't wrap her head around what he was giving to her.

"-And then you-", He tensed, the break came back. "And then everything with Angele…"

She felt herself shaking her head. The gut-punch came back, this time with vigor. This time with understanding and regret.

"You say forget you…", he continued, moving closer to her. "But I can't. I hate this life without you. Turns out, this job means nothing if you're not there. If I can't laugh with you, or wrangle Albus with you, or look back into the wings and know you're there cheering me on, I don't want it.-"

She felt her eyes smart again. The treacherous tears that fell the evening prior, were creeping their way back. This time, however- they were pin-pricks of heavy emotion; neither happy, nor sad. She just could believe what he was telling her. She blinked furiously.

"-And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for not telling you sooner.", his emotion matched the intensity of what she was trying to keep at bay. It felt like he was releasing years and years of feeling; all wrapped up in one stumbling, heart-breaking sentence. "I'm sorry for being such a coward. I should have told you that night in Paris. I should have told you on my 22nd birthday. I should I have told you when we were fifteen and I couldn't get your crazy blue eyes and buzzed head out of my mind. I'm-"

The final pause. He let out a deep, shaky breath; his eyes closing and his head leaning back to the sky.

"-I'm just sorry…", was his solitary apology; almost like a half-whispered prayer.

The wind lessened, almost as if to aide in the finality of his omission. They air around them was still.

Rose acted on impulse, her hand reaching out to him. Her fingers traced barely over the stain of his shirt, where the cut from before was still open. She gently moved closer to him, taking the hem of his sleeve and rolling it, to get a better look at the wound.

He turned from where he was sat, almost facing her. The only sound that could be heard was the slow, rippling of waves and the two heartbeats of a boy and a girl sharing in the exquisite agony of so many unanswered questions.

They did not speak. They didn't dare. She bit her lip; one hand delicately assessing the cut in question, the other hesitantly resting on his outstretched forearm. He did not move; their shallow breaths the only indicator of any emotional current happening beneath the surface.

The cut was barely anything, nothing a bandage couldn't solve. But she kept looking. She couldn't help herself. Not so much examining anything, but relishing in the feeling of his skin on hers. She could feel her cheeks begin to flush; her erratic heart beat growing deeper, more urgent.

"I left my wand upstairs…", she whispered. An answer to a question that hadn't been asked. She felt her hand -the one that had been carefully playing doctor- cease it's movement up by his shoulder. The hand slid down slightly, her fingers wrapping around his arm.

The movement was so intimate, she felt her face flush deeper; her heartbeat moving through her like an electric shock. He could only nod.

She watched him visibly swallow, the shadow of his adam's-apple bobbing slightly. They were on a precipice, they could both feel it. If Rose thought they were treacherous before, there was absolutely not going back now.

She found she didn't want to.

She opened her mouth to speak; finding the courage to say the words she had only just realized, but had truly felt deep within her for so long. He couldn't look at her, his eyes fixated on the apex of where their hands met.

"I've absolutely hated all your girlfriends…", she sighed. Her voice was so only a hair above whisper, it almost got lost in the gentle wind. "Just so you know…"

He looked at her then; his eyes deciphering the delicate truth behind her words. She saw his face shift, his eyes flitting ever so briefly to her lips. They were so close, they were practically cradling one another. He moved forward, emboldened by her sincerity.

She felt his hand come up, gently pushing aside a lock of her long, auburn hair and curving his fingers around the base of her head. She felt the same jolt of electricity run through her; her body filling with dizzying nerves. She moved forward too, enough to where her hand could rest against his chest.

She felt the same wild, errant beating beneath his rib cage. The reality and vulnerability of the moment made an emotion foreign begin to well-up inside of her. His eyes closed; the two of them suspended in time -just feeling the reality of one another's touch.

When he opened his eyes, she saw a different Scorpius. The hollow, brokenness she had grown accustomed to was replaced. In it's wake was something passionate, something primal. Their shallow breathing and heated glances only adding in the urgency of the moment.

She saw his eyes ask the question. She felt her lips part in the answer.

And then, in a way she knew was coming, but couldn't quite believe was real, she felt his own lips against hers.

The first kiss was so gentle, so tentative, she might have missed it -hand not every nerve ending in her body been on high alert. She felt her body explode with feeling, the simple brush of his lips against hers creating such a whirlwind of sensation, she felt she might pass out. They pulled back, merely for a moment.

"Oh my god…", whispered Scorpius, shaking his head softly.

The two of them then reacted quickly in earnest; the kisses becoming more fervent and deeper still. Rose felt herself carried away in the emotion only something so physical could inspire. She leaned into him, her hands knotting their way into his hair. HIs arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close, so close.

They were melting into one another, trying to put years of feeling into crashing lips and ardent sighs. Rose was losing herself, allowing her person to dip into the world of his hands against her body, and his eyes pooling deeply with feeling for her. The heat coming from both of them was exquisite. It was like everything she had experienced at the party, at Franco's, but realer and sweeter and better.

She felt a sort of mania building within her. This was the most beautiful moment she had experienced in her life. Only Rose knew how quickly moments of beauty turned into ones of sorrow.

There was a sudden crash of a waves, and Rose was snapped slightly back to reality. Oh, how quickly they had fallen into one another; it was almost inevitable. What was she doing?

She felt a cruel panic begin to rise in her. She couldn't do this. She couldn't have this, have him.

It was too beautiful, it was too intoxicating. When it all came crashing down, it would hurt with such devastating oblivion, she wouldn't be whole again. She could never be whole again, if she let it get farther than this.

They were not meant to be together. No. She couldn't let herself fall into the notion that she'd come out unscathed. With careers, with friends, with families. With the savage hand of fate that no mere human had control over.

She was too much of a coward.

She was too much of a silly girl.

She loved him too fucking much to let their lives come crashing down for one another.

As the reality of pulling away from the brilliant luminance she was currently experiencing in the arms of this ineffable boy, she felt the deep welling of emotion rise in her. She kissed him once more, knowing she was saying goodbye to the immeasurable fantasy she had allowed herself to indulge in, with the help of his tender words.

As their lips parted; her believing truly it was forever, heavy droplets fell from her eyes. They ran, catching on the strong hand that was still cradling her own head.

Their eyes met once more; his filling with a slow confusion, hers filling with miserable lamentations of an apology she would never feel worthy of giving.

He read her face, and the physical motion of her retreat.

"Please-", he whispered, "Rose, please don't do this…"

She shook her head, her face a crackling mask.

"I can't let us-", she sobbed, pressing her palms to her cheeks. "I can't let us ruin each other."

She got up, furthering her brutal retreat. His face was panic and agony, it hurt like nothing had ever hurt before.

"What are you talking about?", he cried, his voice verging on mania. ""Rose-"

She stumbled over herself in the sand, "You'll leave- I'll leave. We have too much on the line to risk this…"

He looked as if she had just slapped him. He reached out. grabbing her hand in the most hopeless attempt. "I'm not going to leave you… I could never-"

"Everyone leaves!", she cried, her own voice finally breaking. The deepest, darkest reality finally surfacing. Suddenly, she was not on the beach. She was in a dark, lifeless version of her childhood home. The eaves creaked, everything was grey. And she was alone, so alone.

The tears staining her face were not her own, they were her mothers. Softly coming through the cracks in the wall. Curling themselves into Rose's ears; chilling her down to there very core. Her tears were her mothers bent over in anguish, clutching to a burgundy sweater. 'R' knitted onto the front. Her tears were her mother's, forever marred with life's unending tragedy's.

Everyone leaves.

She shook her head again; back on the beach. She pulled her hand away from Scorpius's, it burnt to the touch.

Her eyes were wide, imploring. Her voice was low, hoping to be heard over the sound of waves.

"Everyone leaves, even if they don't want to…"

His eyes turned; his confusion turned to understanding.

"Rose-", he whispered. His own eyes smarted with tears that threatened to spill. He understood. He understood too well.

"Scorpius", she breathed, her final act of anguish, "I love you."

And with that, she turned; running up the wooden steps, wiping the heart-broken tears away from her eyes.

When she came to the top, the house was still. The lights in the lower level were off, the only thing she could see was an eerie red glow, coming from where she had left her wand prior to their decent downstairs.

Red, an emergency.

As she rounded the corner, intent on grabbing the wand, she shrieked.

Albus was sat on the ground, the darkness falling around him like a cloak. He looked up at her. His eyes were black.

"What's going on?", she asked, tentatively. "Is everything okay?"

"No, everything is not okay.", he scowled, a clear and unmistakable indignation in his tone.

She looked to the red buzzing of the wand, Albus on the floor. "Al, tell me what's going on right now."

"It's Gran…", his voice was cold. The red light only aiding in his apparent rage.

Rose sighed, slightly with relief. "Yes, Lily told me this morning. She had a bad fall. She's in Mungo-"

"-No Rose.", Albus cut in, "My mum just called me."

Rose's heart gave; an icy chill running through her.

"No…", she cried, her back hitting the counter.

"She passed away a couple hours ago.", He looked back down to the floor, his eyes filling with angry tears. Rose sank to the floor, her head shaking in awful, agonizing disbelief.

"Gran's dead."

—-

So.

That was a lot.

Please please please don't hate me. I promise it's not the end for our two heart-broken little protagonists. A funeral is always a good place for feelings to arise.

Would love your thoughts one anything!

Did you like Ira? (He's introduced briefly in the second chapter, if anyone recalls.)

Is Lily really just pr…oud?

Drunk Scorpius?

ScorRose confession?

That kiss on the beach?

Rose and her true, true fears about love?

**Random, but if anyone knows anything about the enneagram. I've typed our crew as the following.**

Rose: 3, heavy 2 wing

Scorpius: 5 w 4

Albus: 4 (such a four!)

Marty: 9

Mina: 1 (or maybe an 8, I haven't decided)

Angele: 7 w 6

Playlist for this chapter:

There's Little Left - Bruno Major

Ensoniq - Jarami

Yellow Is The Color Of Her Eyes - Soccer Mommy (Scorpius's confession on the beach)

Convention - Julia Jacklin

99 - Barnes Courtney

As always, please please review! They make me so happy and really do inspire me to keep writing.

xoxoxoxoxo