being in the public eye is a normal thing for every member of the rock band ‘the marauders.’ especially for remus. performing - both on stage and for the media - is like second nature to him. he looks like he was made of the stage, made to perform.

to you, though, it is completely unnatural. you weren't made of the public eye. as regulus, james's boyfriend and another songwriter, said, no person is made for being famous.

except maybe remus.

being remus's partner has its ups and downs. and, like with every famous person's partner, you're in constant scrutiny in the papers and magazines.

it hadn't been long since the two of you started dating. going on half a year, now. half a year of bad press and being picked apart by the media. hell, even the radio spoke about you. in his opinion, though, he doesn't think he could love anyone more than he loves you. call him dramatic, but he swears he could love you till the day that he dies.

after talking to the band after their biggest performance yet, at live aid, he walks towards his dressing room, swinging his guitar round his back.

as soon as the door clicks open, he sees you. only, his smile fades when he sees you're in tears.

as soon as you notice him, you swipe your tears away and force a weak smile. always a people pleader. and why would you want to burden remus with your issues? especially when he just had the biggest show of his career. “hi, remus. you were amazing out there. i saw the whole thing from the-”

“hey.” he cuts you off, shaking his head. “what's wrong?” he asks, dropping to his knees beside the chair you're sat on and clasping your hands in his.

it sounds stupid now that you think about it. you don't have to face the same shit that james and regulus do, having to keep themselves a secret because of what the world will say about the band's lead singer being queer.

you're much better off. and yet, you're still here crying over what people said about you. “just the papers.” you shrug, wiping at your face.

guilt crosses remus's face. afterall, the papers are only focused on you because you're involved with him. he feels utterly awful. “m'so sorry, {{user}}. that shouldn't be happening to you. i'm sorry.”