SENTI-MENTAL | jack

[addilyn elara slater]

If I was sentimental

I'D BE LOSING MY MIND

September 1, 2028
JOHN ELLIOT CLARK

”No—I’m serious—I have practice early tomorrow.” Addy exclaimed as Jack placed a shot of tequila in front of her. That mischievous look crossed his face as his eyes bore into her like some invisible peer pressure. Like with anything, Addy took her placement on the team very seriously. She’d already played in a couple matches, still filling in while Luna recovered. But it wasn’t permanent. Addy knew that she was very aware that the second Luna was able—Addy would be back on the bench. And who knew when she would have a chance to shine again. The last thing she needed was a hangover slowing her down during practice.

”Fine.” Addy acquiesced. Something about that stare always nudged her over that line. She drank the entire shot with a light shake of her head and a sigh. Grimacing, Addy let out a heavy exhale. Since joining the Harpies, her drinking had decreased somewhat. Even without the little bit of alcohol in her system, Addy felt lighter overall. She hated admitting that Jack, Brigh, and others had been right. The Ministry and a desk job were not Addy’s calling, but now she was on the right path. Still, other aspects of her life had changed quite a bit. Often, she wondered if her relationship with Cheese would have survived had the Quidditch epiphany happened sooner.

But it didn’t help her to think about that now. Despite the occasional stomach flip and pang in her chest, they were friends and on good terms. Addy looked at the boy in front of her, that mischievous and amused glint in his eye. An unlikely friend but a friend nonetheless. Not to mention, she didn’t mind the benefits. ”You ever finish that song you told me about?” Jack had mentioned one the last time she saw him, but there hadn’t been much conversation that time. Somehow this was one of the least dramatic parts of her life and one that made her happier than she realized. Or maybe the tequila was acting faster than she expected.

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[JOHN ELLIOT CLARK]

Early September 2028

Not for the first time, Addy and Jack found themselves at a bar. Jack had been incredibly busy recording his first EP, which was due to drop midway through the month. He still couldn't believe it. He oftentimes had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. After everything, he'd managed to score a record deal. And not with an indie label, though he did sometimes wonder if that would have been more aligned to his desires, but with a label that could really put him on the map. One day, maybe sooner rather than later, he'd be playing at festivals across the world.

Shivering, Jack delivered Addy's shot duly in front of her. She'd become monumentally important to him - a soundboard for his ideas (Mal didn't count, as he was usually encouraging) as well as a way to blow off some steam after a long session. Jack knew where he stood with Addy as well - she'd finally accepted the place on the Harpies, even though it wasn't her ideal position. It was better than working at the ministry though. He'd seen the light in her eyes begin to brighten again. Jack secretly felt proud that they were chasing their dreams.

"So much to celebrate," said Jack with a grin. He'd had several more tequila shots than Addy, mostly because he didn't have practice in the morning. He looped a lazy arm around her shoulders. "You're a fantastic Quidditch player, on one of the top teams in Britain. I'm a musician with a record deal and an EP on the way. These things are nothing to look down at," said Jack. He kissed Addy on the cheek before downing his tequila shot and taking a deep swig of his pint. Addy glanced at him, and Jack fixed her with that mischievous look of his that told her that he wouldn't play nice tonight.

Taking a measured sip of his pint, Jack surveyed Addy. He cast his mind around for which song she was talking about - admittedly, she had inspired quite a few, some of which had made it onto the EP, and others which he wasn't quite ready to share yet. And others still that were just scraps of verse littered on notepads in the lounge he shared with Mal. "Which one?" asked Jack at last.

addilyn elara slater

[addilyn elara slater]

If I was sentimental

I'D BE LOSING MY MIND

September 1, 2028
JOHN ELLIOT CLARK

Addy had been surprised when Jack had excitedly told her about his record deal. Not that she was surprised because he wasn’t talented. She was just…surprised. But it felt like the theme of the year. Addy played in her first match less than six months after suddenly quitting her internship and joining the Harpies as a reservist. The thrill was indescribable, and the crowd's roar on the Quidditch Pitch left Addy completely forgetting what the matches at Hogwarts had sounded like. She had left the beaten path into the thick fog of the unknown and come out almost on top.

Now, she hadn’t dealt with this crumbling of the reality she had trained by just yet. And she didn’t want to anytime soon. Because here, in this busy spot, Addy felt good. A confidence gleaned from her, and the comfort of the arm casually draped her shoulders. He beamed as well. Addy noted the weight he carried was substantially lighter than when they’d met. Their schedules had grown busier, but it was easy to make an effort to find time for him. ”I’ll deny I ever said it, but you were right.” Merlin, that tequila had hit her quickly, hadn’t it? Addy glanced up at him. He’d never get that in writing from her. But she had to tell him—that push all that time ago, along with her friends and finally from a Slater himself.

Addy sipped on her drink, something fruity in a pretty glass. Alcoholic enough to be fun but not enough to hate herself in the morning. She needed to continue to perform well if she wanted a permanent spot in the starting lineup. She had caught light whispers of a Chaser position opening up, but Addy hadn’t breathed a word in case she had misheard. But Luna was an excellent player. Addy had played alongside her for years. Sipping again, Addy pushed the sports thoughts out of her mind, for now, absent-mindedly leaning into Jack a bit. ”You hadn’t finished the lyrics.” Addy remembered the ones he had thought up then. She remembered him playing with an upbeat tune. ”These moments of oblivion are all I need.” She repeated. It stuck in her mind because it was so poetic to her. But, then again, she’d always admired Jack’s way with words. "That's all I remember." 

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[JOHN ELLIOT CLARK]

A self satisfied smirk stretched across Jack's face as Addy admitted that he was right. After all those weeks of gently, then not so gently, prodding her in what he felt was the right direction, she'd finally quit her desk job and focused on her Quidditch career. Even if Quidditch wasn't Jack's preferred sport - there was just something gritty about football, even though it was a muggle sport - he was still pleased that she'd finally listened to him. And probably a dozen others who could see how drained she was at the ministry.

Addy had become a sort of sounding board for Jack, especially when he felt he needed a second or third opinion on his music. Admittedly, he'd approached her with scraps of unfinished songs waiting to be completed, trying to find the missing piece before he could create something beautiful. Jack downed his tequila, then took a deep drink of his pint to wash away the unsavoury taste. His arm was wound lazily around Addy's shoulders, and warmth spread from the point of contact when she leaned into him.

When Addy reminded him of the lyrics he'd once had piecemeal in front of him, Jack bobbed his head. "Spice up your life, who would want anything else? These moments of oblivion are all I need," sang Jack quietly. "I did. It will be on the EP too," said Jack after a moment. His face felt hot, and to distract himself, he took another swig of his pint. "It's sort of strange, looking back on the things that I've written. And remembering the headspace I was in," he added after a moment. "But I feel like things have changed now. From then, at least," he added hastily.

addilyn elara slater

[addilyn elara slater]

If I was sentimental

I'D BE LOSING MY MIND

September 1, 2028
JOHN ELLIOT CLARK

Not that Addy could see it at the moment, but letting Jack know he’d been right was a big step. For Addy to allow herself that moment of easy vulnerability—such things never came easy. The fervent competitiveness in her soul and her need to be the best didn’t allow her to open themselves to many people. This is why people like Brigh were so important to her and why her journey with Cheese had taken its toll. Seven years forming that indomitable connection and further years spent growing even closer, only for that bridge to fall. Addy thought about it less and less these days. Quidditch kept her pretty busy and was her highest priority, and in moments like this, leaning into Jack’s familiar frame, how could she think of anything but the man next to her.

She nodded. ”Yes—that one!” The tune had lodged in her brain since then. It was catchy but not overly upbeat. ”Oh, really?” It was due to release soon, from what she recalled. An excited flutter entered her stomach, and she realized she couldn’t wait. She thought about his words, wondering what he was referring to. ”How so?” He was a far cry from that gloomy but bold boy on that island that weekend. As she glanced up at him, eyes beaming from the alcohol and hair disheveled as always, he also seemed happier.

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[JOHN ELLIOT CLARK]

Jack’s face was uncharacteristically warm as he recalled the words he’d written. It had ended up being a faster tune than he had expected - at first, the thought of oblivion was nurtured by a slower ballad. But when the words flowed, so did the drum beat, and it took on an angrier tone. Sarcastic, almost. Who could want anything else? ”Yeah, really,” said Jack with a hint of a smile. ”I can’t believe it’s actually coming out in a few weeks. My first record…” he trailed off thoughtfully, before taking another sip of his pint.

Without thinking much of it, Jack tried to explain his headspace to Addy. How he felt like he’d been on some sort of journey from the moment he had first picked up a guitar. ”At first, I was so angry. At the way life treated us all. About how easy it was to forget about something with the passage of time,” he started slowly, not meeting her gaze. ”I was angry that I couldn’t seem to make it, no matter what I wrote or how hard I tried. It was almost like I was set to lose.” He paused here, glancing up at Addy. Her eyes were like oceans, wild and fathomless, but beautiful all the same. ”But things changed.” He shrugged.

Jack fingered the rim of his glass for something to do. ”I used to think that I would never worry about my music. It was always for me. Even now, I write for myself. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want people to like it,” he admitted at last. Jack poured his heart into his work, and it was strange to see appreciation in it, especially from HR Records. ”But if HR records wanted to produce it, they must see value in me.” He stopped, then hooked an easy smile on his lips. ”Enough of that though. I believe we are celebrating, no? Not philosophising,” he added, before draining his pint. ”Another?”

addilyn elara slater

[addilyn elara slater]

If I was sentimental

I'D BE LOSING MY MIND

September 1, 2028
JOHN ELLIOT CLARK

”A few weeks…” Addy echoed softly again, the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. ”I did mention how excited I am for you, right?” She was sure she had. Addy thought back to when he’d initially told her. Maybe if she had not vocalized, she perhaps showed him instead. Either way, he had to know. The tequila warmed her system, and the chill she felt earlier disappeared, especially as she felt Jack’s body heat so close to her. But even without alcohol, she would have relaxed all the same. Jack was no longer a stranger in her life.

Patiently, she listened to his explanation. Despite different places in life, Addy felt she could relate. Her internal anger at her perceived failures and external influences had done well to keep her feet on a strict path. At least until the desperation grew so much, she wavered and stepped out. She hummed a response, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought. In a way, Addy always felt hypnotized by his philosophizing ways. The contrast to her logical tendencies provided a unique perception.

”People will like it—love it.” Addy declared. How could they not with the authenticity Jack brought to the songs? Perhaps tequila and personal connections biased Addy quite a bit, but according to some, she was the most judgmental person on the planet. So her opinion had to matter for something, right? ”Yes—we’re celebrating you.” Addy responded it wasn’t that her achievements weren’t worthy, but it wasn’t yet at the bar Addy looked toward. She technically was still a reserve player, after all. ”No—I can’t—“ Jack moved to drain his pint. Addy let her hand fall to his thigh to balance herself. She didn’t need another shot, nor to finish this sole drink she’d been babysitting the entire evening. Practice would be hell tomorrow.

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[JOHN ELLIOT CLARK]

Jack dipped his head, uncharacteristically abashed. "Aye, you did," he murmured. "But I don't mind hearing it again," he added with a smirk. They stood in a comfortable silence for a bit as the chatter of the place washed over them. Jack then tried to put into words what he was thinking - and perhaps he ought to stick to songs rather than prose. But either way, he wanted Addy to know. That it hadn't been easy, and the things that were really worthwhile rarely ever were. He fingered the rim of his glass, then took another sip. He was feeling warm now.

"Aye, they better," he replied with a nod, snaking an arm around Addy's middle and drawing her closer. He could count the freckles spattered across her nose. "You've been called up to play for the top league of Quidditch in Britain and Ireland, and I've got a record coming out. I think we're celebrating the both of us," he challenged, lifting his glass to his lips and draining his pint. Addy declined another pint, and that was all the same to Jack. He was buzzed as it was.

Setting his empty glass on the bar, Jack turned his attention fully to Addy. His arm still hung loosely around her middle, and he paused, surveying her features before speaking. "Mad how we went to school together, were in the same house, and now you're having songs written about you," said Jack, his free hand coming to rest against the column of her neck. He bent forward slightly so he could lower his voice and still be heard. "Maybe I should write a song about that mouth..." murmured Jack, brushing his thumb against her bottom lip. "Seeing as I seem to keep coming back for more."

addilyn elara slater

[addilyn elara slater]

If I was sentimental

I'D BE LOSING MY MIND

September 1, 2028
JOHN ELLIOT CLARK

Despite not drinking as much as she normally would, Addy still felt that warm feeling on her face. She knew it wasn’t impossible to be logical, but Addy didn’t want to. Every time she was in this position with Jack, she just felt malleable in his hands. In all sense of the statement. Pausing, Addy’s head tilted while she looked at Jack. ”I could tell you…unless you’d want me to show you, instead?” Merlin, Addy would’ve never thought such words would leave her mouth just a few years ago. The thought at sixteen or seventeen would’ve been enough to turn her face the same shade as Brígh’s hair.

Her breath caught at the sudden movement, and as if Addy wasn’t already feeling warm enough, she had Jack’s body heat to contend with. And there was that scent he wore, some aftershave or something—whatever it was, it made Addy’s stomach flip every time. She’d never admit how it always reminded her of him. ”Fine.” She finally acquiesced. In the back of her mind, Addy knew she could be stronger than this. In the past, that had caused a year-long journey with Cheese because she refused what her heart wanted. It felt like ages ago, but Addy selfishly didn’t fight it.

And Addy would never let Brígh know she was right. Merlin, she had a type, didn’t she? Replacing photographs for songs. The difference was that Jack Clark was not her boyfriend. Both agreed they were just friends. At this rate, she either gave in to Jack or ordered another drink. Either way, Addy was sure she would suffer for it during practice tomorrow. ”You’d do that for me?” Underlying her coy statement, Addy still felt amazed that she could inspire someone in such a way. But that theme was not new, a thread woven intimately in her life, questioning how she could be worthy.

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