Current mood:	lethargic
Current music:	"Anti-Nostalgic" - Bad Luck
Entry tags:	gravitation

The New Gravi Fic...
Okay, so this is what I've been working on for the last few weeks. It's a hair darker than my usual fare, though I wouldn't exactly call it angst. I had planned to post the first chunk to ffnet today, but I'm drawing a blank on a title. So far, any pairing are undecided, and I'm making it up as I go.

Title: ?
rating: M
main characters: Shuichi Shindou, Suguru Fujisaki
summary: With his career and relationship with Yuki both in shambles, Shuichi turns to a life of heavy drinking and partying to dull the pain. Will he fade into a tabloid mainstay, or will he find inspiration where he least expected?


Shuichi sat up, a wave of nausea and dizziness causing him to lie back immediately. Squinting painfully against even the dim sunlight that threatened beyond the dark curtains of the room, he began the all too familiar ritual of trying to figure out just where the hell he was.

It was ironic really, he thought, more than a little disgusted with himself as he saw the complete stranger passed out beside him, that he lived more like a stereotypical rock star now that he really couldn’t claim to be one. Oh, he was still a celebrity, to go by the tabloids, an infamous train wreck followed by the morbidly curious in grocery store lines, but his failures were his claim to fame these days.

The stranger stirred, as Shuichi managed to find most of his clothes scattered throughout the dingy one room apartment, looking up at blankly for a moment, his long, sloppy hair hanging in his eyes.

“Holy shit,” he mused, scratching at his goatee and staring at him. “I was so drunk I thought I’d just brought home some kid who was a dead ringer. But you’re the real thing, aren’t you?”

Shuichi said nothing, pulling his tee shirt over his head and then sitting on the floor to wrestle with the knee high black leather boot he hadn’t yet found the mate for.

“Holy shit,” he repeated, his head falling back on the pillow, then turning to look at him with a slightly leering grin. “I gotta say though, I totally remember the sex. Good God.”

Shuichi spotted his other boot just under the bed, and pushed a few stray bottles out of the way as he crawled over to retrieve it. He reluctantly looked up at the man as he reached under the bed frame as far as he could reach.

“I hope you don’t mind, consider it flattery or whatever, but to have an ass like yours on tap and give it up, that Yuki guy --” the man began with a laugh.

“Shut up,” Shuichi ground out between clenched teeth, as he finally got a grip on the boot. “You’ve got a good story for your friends, maybe even one to sell to the papers, but I don’t want to hear it, so just shut up.”

“Touchy little slut, aren’t ya?” the man said, shaking his head. “Jeez, I was just trying to let you know you’re still good at something. It’s not my fault you’re all washed up.”

Shuichi flinched, hunching his shoulders and stumbling out of the apartment, waiting until he got into the hallway to finish buckling his boots.

Forgoing a rather dubious looking elevator, he took the stairs down to the lobby, where the clock told him it was just past noon. The sunny street outside held just a bit more clarity than he would have liked, and thinking clearly always brought back things that he tried to avoid dwelling on.

“Hey Aki-san,” Shuichi muttered irritably at the man who was currently snapping his picture. He used to absently count the flashbulbs as he left the nightclubs, trying to keep his temper. The news that Shindou Shuichi’s life of drinking and partying had spiraled out of control must be getting stale. There only seemed to be one now. Aki was still flogging this dead horse for his income, and Shuichi had just given up caring, even going so far as to be civil to his professional stalker.

“Hey there, Shindou,” Aki said. “Late night?” Shuichi nodded, looking at the street signs and trying to figure out where the nearest train station was.

“Want to tell me where you’ll be tonight and save me some driving around?” Aki asked amiably.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Shuichi said with a shrug.

Shuichi realized to his amazement that he was only a few blocks from his own apartment, as he turned a corner where things were more familiar. A few people glanced at him curiously, seeing him being pursued by the cameraman, and Shuichi held his breath, hoping no one would recognize him or care if they did.

OoOoO


Shuichi stocked up on various junk foods, cheap wine and aspirin at the corner shop on the way home, the man behind the counter always friendly despite always seeing Shuichi looking worse for wear and in last night’s clubbing attire.

“You do not eat good. You should get you a nice girl that cooks for you,” the man said with a broad smile as he rung up his purchases. Shuichi gave him a bland smile in return, his eyes drawn to the tabloid on the newsstand beside the counter.

Is Yuki Eiri’s latest novel of love and loss inspired by former lover? asked a small byline at the bottom corner of the page, beside a publicity still of Yuki taken for the inside of the book’s dust jacket. Shuichi rolled his eyes. All of Yuki’s books were about love and loss. They had run the same story for the last book Yuki had written since their break-up as well. He noticed that they didn’t even bother to use his name or Bad Luck’s to get attention anymore.

There was a respectable music magazine beside it on the rack, picturing the familiar face of Fujisaki Suguru. He looked into the camera with an ironic smirk, pushing up the brim of the unmistakably symbolic purple fedora hat he wore. Brilliant producer Fujisaki Suguru speaks with us of the stumbling blocks to fame and on stepping out of his famous cousin’s shadow, read the headline. Well, at least one of us made it, Shuichi thought to himself. There was a blurb on Ryuichi’s latest film overseas as well, he noted, adding the magazine to his purchases.

“Oh, so you are a music fan, I see,” the man said, ringing up the magazine.

“Yeah, something like that,” Shuichi said, thanking the man and paying him.

He walked across the street and climbed the steps to his apartment, balancing the heavy, clinking shopping bag on his hip as he fished out his key.
Inside, he sat the bag on a low table in front the futon that served as both sofa and bed, stripping down to his boxers and tee shirt before sitting on the floor between them. His cell phone laid nearby, charging at the wall outlet, and he reluctantly unplugged it to check his messages. He almost never took it with him when he went out anymore.

There was one call from Maiko, and one from Hiro that he’d never gotten around to erasing that was nearly a month old. He played it again, listening to Hiro ask if he wanted to come out to Kyoto and see the house he and his wife Ayaka had moved into. He’d never returned the call.

He pulled out the contents of the bag and spread them on the table, unscrewing one of the wine bottles and pouring himself a drink in his favorite mug, which was still left out from yesterday, before opening the magazine he‘d bought.

Ryuichi’s new movie had wrapped, the article said, and there was already buzz about how well he’d done as a cynical anti-hero in the gritty, dystopian sci-fi thriller. Shuichi tried to wrap his head around the thought of Ryuichi playing such a role convincingly, when he saw that the article also mentioned that the former Nittle Grasper vocalist was returning to Tokyo to do promotional work. Well, that ruled out one of his comfort zones. Ryuichi tended to favor the clubs in Roppongi these days when he was back in town, and Shuichi didn’t want to run into him. The last time had been humiliating enough.

Shuichi had tried to avoid the corner of Gaspanic where Ryuichi was playing court to his mostly American entourage, when he’d been spotted and asked to join them. The party moved on to several other hotspots before winding down in Ryuichi’s suite in one of the nicest hotels in the city. Reiji and Ryuichi had fawned upon him, and it had been great. He’d truly felt like he were somebody again for a few hours.

High on his newfound confidence and more than a few drinks, he’d been more than receptive to Ryuichi’s advances once the others had left. The evening had left him starry-eyed and hopeful in a way he had never felt with anyone else but Yuki, and he found himself awake long before Ryuichi in the morning, watching his lover sleep and wondering if XMR had any interest in drawing up another contract. He’d been scribbling the lyrics for the first song he’d written in over a year, when Ryuichi woke and looked at him a little sadly before telling him it was time for him to go back to America.

It could have been worse, Shuichi thought to himself, as he poured another drink, and flipped the page so quickly that he almost ripped it. He’d come very close to revealing his pathetically naive little daydream of following him back to Los Angeles, when he realized the sad look in Ryuichi’s eyes had been disappointment. He hadn’t lived up to the expectations of being the heir to Sakuma’s legacy. He’d blown it.

He looked at the large glossy photos of Suguru which framed his cover story, which were more shots from the front’s photo session. He looked a little older, of course, but his face had lost some the solemn edge that he remembered from the studious young keyboardist. He scanned the article, which talked about Suguru’s recent success in producing several of the hottest albums on the charts. He read more closely when he saw Bad Luck mentioned.

“CT: Do you miss the camaraderie of working with a band, like you did with the wildly successful Bad Luck?

FS: [laughs] Not really. I’ve always been a bit of a loner, I suppose. I certainly don’t miss touring. I enjoy working with new artists on their albums, don’t get me wrong, but being in a band is like a marriage, you know? There’s just too much drama, too much personal involvement.

CT: There has been a lot of speculation on what caused the group’s downfall after such a promising start. Was it Nakano Hiroshi’s early retirement and marriage? The breakup of Shindou Shuichi and Yuki Eiri? What is your take?

FS: See, that’s just the sort of thing I was talking about. All these personal things interfere with the music. I’ve avoided talking about Bad Luck’s break-up with the press, but since it’s been a few years, and the wounds aren’t as fresh, I’ll indulge you.

I never enjoyed working with Shindou. He was unreliable, and his mood in the studio was always dictated by whatever was going on with Yuki. It was very unprofessional, and the way everyone around us would coddle and indulge him used to infuriate me. But he is incredibly talented. That’s why I stuck around even when I wanted to get out of it. Well, that, and my cousin [Seguchi Tohma] had given me the job as a favor. [laughs]

But, I was really surprised with his behavior when they split up. In fact, I was even impressed. For the first time, Shindou really put on a brave face and came into the studio to work. I think that last album would have been our best, if things had happened differently after that.

CT: You mean Nakano leaving the band.

FS: Exactly. [nods] Honestly? I don’t like to speculate about the feelings of others as a rule, but -- Well, let’s just say that I think Hiroshi leaving hurt him [Shindou] more than whatever happened with him and Yuki-san. Because by that point the was just barely hanging on, you know? It was really like someone pulling the rug from under him. He just sort of wandered away, lost interest after that. He got back together with Yuki-san for a little while, and even that didn’t seem to help, and of course, they officially broke up shortly after that. The album got completed, so our contract was fulfilled, but it got shelved. His heart just wasn’t in it anymore.

CT: Have you kept in touch with either of them?

FS: No.

CT: The tabloids have been reporting for some time that Shindou has given himself over to a life of drinking and partying. Do you think he’s on a path to self-destruction?

FS: That’s really none of my business. [pauses] I hope not.”


Shuichi reread the interview, then closed the magazine. The phone rang, startling him. He plucked it up from the table and answered.

“Hey,” Yuki said.

“Yuki?” Shuichi whispered. His heart thudded heavily in his chest.

“Yeah, it’s me. Look, I -- I just wanted to know how you are,” Yuki said, his voice slightly slurred.

“You’re drunk,” Shuichi said. Yuki gave a joyless laugh and sighed.

“Yeah, I hear the same thing about you these days,” Yuki said.

“What do you care?” Shuichi asked.

“I don’t. Fuck you, then. Go drink yourself to death for all I care,” Yuki muttered, then added more softly, “Thought you were the strong one.”

“Well, I guess you were wrong,” Shuichi said, his head beginning to swim. Shuichi heard voices in the background on Yuki’s end.

“I’ve got to go. I just wanted to know how you’re doing, moron,” Yuki said, and hung up the phone.

Shuichi took a deep breath, and waited for the tears to come, but they didn’t. He just felt numb.

OoOoO


Roppongi was out for the evening because of Ryuichi. The area, where most of the bar and nightclub patrons were foreign, had been one Shuichi had liked for his relative anonymity. Bad Luck’s music had never caught on anywhere else like it had in Japan, and he rarely had to concern himself with recognition there. His other preferred option awaited then, Shinjuku Ni-Chome, the five block sprawl that harbored most of the Tokyo gay scene.

When he’d rather self-consciously visited the area for the first time, he’d been surprised at how easily he’d been able to lose himself on the crowded dance floors and just enjoy himself. He was recognized, but rarely harassed, and those who did approach him usually did so rather casually. It felt liberating just to be there, and it didn’t hurt that he almost never had to pay for his own drinks as the evenings wore on.

He entered one of his favorite clubs, choosing to start at the bar before going out on the dance floor. The loud music pulsed around him as he made his way to an area separated by a Plexiglas barrier that muffled the noise to allow for conversation without blocking the view. Greeted by a few other regulars, he ordered his drink and scanned the crowd. He stopped dead at finding a familiar set of warm brown eyes locked on his.

Fujisaki Suguru sat at a table nearby and gestured for him to join him.

“You’re not nearly as hard to track down as I’d been led to believe. A few questions in the right places, and here you are,” Suguru said, smiling pleasantly as Shuichi came over with his drink.

“You were looking for me?” Shuichi asked in wonder as he sat at the table. Suguru nodded.

“K volunteered to find your apartment and bring you to me, but I thought I’d make a more civilized approach,” Suguru said, his unwavering smile eerily resembling that of his mentor and cousin for a moment, making Shuichi uneasy until he heard a tone of sincerity in the young man’s voice. “After all, it’s been a while hasn’t it?”

“Why do you need to see me?” Shuichi asked. Suguru played with the umbrella in his drink before meeting his eyes intently.

“I have a proposal for you, and I really hope that you won’t turn it down,” Suguru said. Shuichi squirmed uncertainly on the barstool.

“What kind of proposal?” Shuichi asked, with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“I’d like for you to return to the studio. The band I’m currently working with has a new track that I think could be made really great if you’d agree to sing,” Suguru said.

“I -- I don’t know, Fujisaki-san,” Shuichi said uneasily. It had been years since Shuichi had set foot inside a studio. The very thought of it made him feel queasy.

“Suguru.”

“What?” Shuichi asked, distracted.

“We’re friends, right? You can use my name,” Suguru said, waving his hand dismissively. “To be honest, I have a pretty wide range of vocalists I could choose from on this project, but I want you. And you know what? They’re fans. They’re really excited about the idea of working with you.”

“What if I don’t have what it takes anymore, Suguru?” Shuichi asked.

“Then I’ll kick you out of my studio and get someone else,” Suguru said with a laugh. “Don’t be silly, Shuichi. I don’t have the time to waste on has-beens. I just don’t think you are one. Now where‘s that spastic enthusiasm and confidence I know you have?” Shuichi couldn’t help but smile.

“Why weren’t you this nice when we worked together?” Shuichi asked, shaking his head. Suguru shrugged, leaning closer.

“Because I’ve learned a secret in the past couple of years. Being nice and handing out compliments gets me my way a lot more easily than sulking,” Suguru said in a conspiratorial stage whisper.

“You might be right,” Shuichi said thoughtfully. “I’ll give it a try, okay? I can’t promise I’m going to be worth your time, though.”

“That’s all I needed to hear,” Suguru said. “Why don’t we get this started tomorrow before you can psych yourself out and change your mind, okay? I can send a car around for you.”

“Alright already,” Shuichi said, laughing. “Now I know what they meant when they said you were surpassing Seguchi-san. You not only manipulate people into doing what you want, you make them like you for it.”

“Thanks,” Suguru said with a broad grin, seemingly caught off guard for a moment, and coloring slightly, reminding Shuichi more of the quiet and slightly socially awkward boy who’d played in his band.

“So,” Shuichi said, feeling in strange way as if he were truly seeing his former band mate for the first time, instead of taking his presence in the background for granted, “Isn’t it a little risky for your reputation to been seen around here? I mean, I’m sure people recognize you.”

“Well, I get a lot less attention as a producer than I did as a musician,” Suguru said with a shrug, “But, honestly, you really don’t notice a lot outside of your little bubble do you?”

“What do you mean?” Shuichi asked, bristling slightly, if only because he suspected it were true.

“I mean that if you ever read anyone’s press clippings besides your own, you’d know that I’ve been out for over a year now,” Suguru said, rolling his eyes.

“Hey, that’s not fair! I read an interview you gave just this afternoon!” Shuichi said, then paused, his eyes growing wide. “Wait -- you are?”

“Just ask my boyfriend,” Suguru said with a grin, looking embarrassed and pleased at the same time. “He’s the lead singer for Ganymede. Typical. You only read the parts of that interview that mentioned you, didn‘t you?”
Shuichi grinned sheepishly.

OoOoO


It was a familiar shock, to possibly coin such a paradox, thought Shuichi when he woke the next morning to find his blearily blinking eyes focusing upon the barrel of a gun.

“Long time, no see, punk,” Claude K said in a manner that was, for him, almost sentimental. Or at least as sentimental as a man pointing a gun could sound. “I’m here to haul your lazy ass to the studio. The boss suggested that we might want to make a stop at rehab, but I’ve promised to scare you straight. You’re not going to make a liar out of me, are you?”

“No, sir,” Shuichi said, his eyes slightly crossed as he looked at the gun.

“Good to have you back, kid,” K said, allowing Shuichi to sit up and get ready to leave.

“So who are you managing these days?” Shuichi asked as K drove them.

“No one in particular at the moment,” K said, checking his rearview before changing lanes. “You could say that I’m helping to babysit the whole NG roster right now. Seguchi-san’s had me focusing on Ganymede and Sister Moon lately, since they both seem to be on their way up. Sister Moon are the ones I’m delivering you to right now for Suguru.”

“Oh, really?” Shuichi asked. “I’ve heard some of their stuff at the clubs. They’re pretty good.” Shuichi remembered seeing a video of the pretty girl duo, pleased that he would be collaborating with a group he was at least somewhat acquainted with.

“Hara-san’s practically coming unhinged waiting for you to get there,” K said. “She’s not the only one, either. Expect a packed studio.”

“They’re excited to see me?” Shuichi asked with surprise. K smiled.

“Of course they are. Do you think you’d have managed to be living off your royalties for two years now if people weren’t still buying Bad Luck cds? You were still on top when you bowed out, kid. Good move. Leaves them wanting more,” K said.

Shuichi peered up nervously at the looming NG building as they grew near. He thought he’d truly left the place for good that last time, when he’d taken a cab to his childhood home to crash until he got things sorted. Memories that were both exhilarating and heartbreaking flooded his mind at the sight of the shining glass façade of Seguchi Tohma’s fortress.

He looked around quietly as K led him from the parking garage through a hallway that gave confirmation that life had indeed gone on without him, various gold records from fresher stars lining the walls alongside those of Bad Luck and Nittle Grasper. As they reached the second floor, Shuichi’s thoughts were scattered by an unearthly shriek as he exited the elevator.

“He’s here! He’s really here! Kimi, get your butt out here! It’s Shuichi!” Hara Aika, lead vocalist for Sister Moon called, her dogears bouncing as she clapped for joy.

“Well, she certainly has vocal range,” Shuichi said, with an embarrassed grin to K, sticking a pinky in his ringing ear.

A second girl stepped into the hallway, raising an eyebrow at her friend before giving them a timid wave, and trying to smooth her shaggy black bob with her other hand.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Shindou-san,” the girls said in near perfect unison, bowing.

“Hey, guys, no need for that now,” Shuichi said, waving his hand awkwardly as they raised up. “I’m pretty excited to meet you guys, too. Just call me Shuichi, okay?”

“He said we can call him Shuichi!” Aika said, skipping ahead of them into the studio. “Call me Aika!”

“Kimi,” the other girl said quietly, following Aika.

Shuichi was already feeling a bit overwhelmed as he walked into the room, finding Suguru, two members of Ganymede, and one more face he recognized inside.

“Sakano-san!” Shuichi said cheerfully. Bad Luck’s former producer bowed low before him.

“Shindou-san! I am most pleased that our president’s great protégé Fujisaki-san has chosen in his infinite wisdom to bring you back on board!” Sakano said. “I only regret that as the producer of Ganymede that I will not be able to work with you directly.”

“It’s nice to see you, too,” Shuichi said with amusement upon seeing that the man had not changed a bit.

“Sorry to bombard you with so much on your first day back, Shuichi, but everyone wanted to see you,” Suguru said, and gestured to the other two men, blushing slightly as his eyes met those of the taller of the two. “This is Ashia Raiden, vocalist, and Joshuya Eiji, guitarist, from the group Ganymede.”

Ashia’s height was slightly intimidating, even reaching above that of K’s, his hair long and black with bright red streaks, and his light gray eyes revealing what must have been a mixed heritage.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” Ashia said, his deep voice somewhat accented, shaking his hand. “I love your music.” Shuichi stared up at the towering man with awe.

“Thank you,” Shuichi said. “I went out and got your first album after I’d met with Suguru yesterday. It’s really good.”

“That means a lot to us, coming from you,” the other man, whose black hair was wildly spiked in all directions and streaked with blue said, stepping forward and looking Shuichi up and down like he wanted to devour him. “I sincerely hope that you’ll agree to collaborate with us as well sometime.”

“You never know, right?” Shuichi asked uneasily, backing away slightly.

“Well, it’s back to your own studio, then. We have work to do,” Suguru said, playfully shooing them towards the door. Ashia stooped down to steal a quick kiss before leaving, and Suguru turned back to them looking flushed.

“Sorry about Eiji,” Suguru said. “You know how Yuki-san’s kid brother has that little crush on Sakuma-san?”

“Little crush? Don’t you mean full-blown scary obsession that makes me look like a casual fan?” Shuichi asked, his eyes wide.

“Um, yeah,” Suguru said. “That’s kind of like how Eiji is for you. But don’t worry, I made him promise to leave you alone if I introduced him, and gave him the glass you drink out of. It’s no big deal.”

“Right,” Shuichi said, laughing nervously.

Shuichi listened to Suguru’s arrangement of the Sister Moon track they were to work on, as always impressed by the younger man’s skill at making the most complicated of arrangements sound simple and irresistibly catchy. The girls hovered around them in nervous excitement, and Shuichi watched them with a feeling of wistfulness, their dynamic of contrasting hyper enthusiasm countered with calm rationalization reminding him painfully of his with Hiro. The void his guitarist and best friend had left in his life was still tender, and he was already forming plans in his mind to go get good and drunk in Ni-Chome that night, when Suguru presented him with the lyric sheet and he and Aika worked out his harmonization. None of this felt right without Hiro here, he thought.

“Why so glum? You made a really great song in there,” Suguru said as he drove him home. Shuichi shrugged, looking out of the window. He’d been excited at the beginning of the day, glad to find that his music was still being enjoyed and that he wasn’t as forgotten as he’d thought, but in the end it all felt hollow.

“I know it’s just one track,” Suguru said, seeming to read his thoughts. “But it’s a good one. And since it’s a single, you can do some performances with the girls when they promote it, if you wish to.”

“Thank you, Suguru. Thanks for everything, I mean it,” Shuichi said, glancing at him. “If it will help you out, I’ll be happy to perform. Just let me know.”

“Thank you, Shuichi. I know this hasn’t been easy for you,” Suguru said. Shuichi sighed.

“I miss him, that’s all,” Shuichi said, watching the traffic go by.

“Yeah, me too,” Suguru said, so quietly it was almost a whisper. Shuichi looked at him curiously. Suguru gave him a sidelong glance, and broke into bitter laughter.

“You had no idea, did you?” Suguru asked, shaking his head. “God, I know you were self-absorbed, but -- I thought he might have at least told you. Maybe he didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

“What are you talking about?” Shuichi asked.

“Hiroshi and I. We were lovers,” Suguru said, pulling up to the sidewalk beside Shuichi’s apartment and killing the engine. Shuichi stared at him in stunned silence.

“It was -- let me see -- around the time we were recording our second album?” Suguru asked himself, closing his eyes for a moment. “That was probably when things were most secure between you and Yuki-san. Maybe that and working on the album was what had you so oblivious, I don’t know. We didn‘t exactly make a public announcement about it.”

“I had no idea. I’m sorry,” Shuichi said. “I never thought his leaving the group affected anyone but me. And then he married Ayaka -- I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Suguru said, forcing a smile. “I have Raiden now. What did you think of him?”

“He’s -- well, he’s a big guy,” Shuichi said. Suguru laughed.

“He’d love to hear you say that. He’s so bony from being that tall,” Suguru said with a fond smile. “I should probably be getting home to him now, actually.”

“Of course,” Shuichi said, opening the car door.

“Hey Shuichi,” Suguru called to him when he got out.

“Yes?” Shuichi asked.

“Do you still write songs?” Suguru asked.

Shuichi shook his head, giving him a sad smile as he turned to go back into the building.

As Suguru pulled away, Aki stepped forward, snapping pictures. Shuichi was in no mood for the photographer’s antics, his mind still buzzing with the information Suguru had shared. He tried to step by him, when Aki called out to him.

“Hey Shindou! Tell me why you were at NG with Fujisaki Suguru all day, and I’ll let you in on something you’ll really want to know about tomorrow’s paper,” Aki said. Shuichi froze, turning slowly to face the other man with a feeling of dread.

“I did a duet with Hara Aika for the new Sister Moon album,” Shuichi said with resignation, as Aki hurriedly scribbled it down on his notepad.

“That makes this crappy timing then, kid,” Aki said, shaking his head. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but that guy you stayed with the other night has decided to sell his story.” Shuichi winced, remembering the words he had said to the guy, never imagining he would take it literally.

OoOoO


Shuichi went to the clubs like he’d planned. There was really nothing else for him to do. He had even more to avoid thinking about than usual, and there was no way he was going to sit around that nearly empty apartment and wait for the press to arrive at his doorstep. So he did the things he always did, danced and drank until it went away, trying not to wonder where he was going to sleep tonight. The answer to that would be obvious, he thought, as the man he danced with pulled him close, grinding against him, but that was exactly how he’d gotten into this mess, wasn’t it?

Around three, when all the clubs were closing down, he was gently escorted out of the door by a man in a red dress and a wig who asked if he had anyone to take him home. He shook his head and stumbled away, heading in the direction of the park.

He remembered somehow crossing the road without being hit, a driver honking and yelling angrily. He remembered sitting on a park bench, looking desolately at the cell phone he’d actually decided to take this time and willing it to ring with anyone who might come and rescue him. He remembered vaguely wondering if Yuki’s call the other day meant he were welcome to call back, then recalled the voice he’d heard in the background and thought better of it. That was the last thing he remembered, before being softly shaken awake, the sounds of crows cawing all around him.

“Yuki?” he asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

“Sorry, Shuichi, it’s just me,” Suguru said.

“How --?” Shuichi asked, his head spinning as he sat up.

“I’m good at finding people,” Suguru said, sitting beside him.

“But why --?” Shuichi asked, cradling his head in his hands.

“I came after I read the paper this morning. The reporters outside your building said they hadn’t seen you come home,” Suguru said.

“Guess they’ll be there for a while, won’t they?” Shuichi asked dully.

“Probably so. That’s why you’re coming home with me,” Suguru said, standing and offering his hand. “Come on, Shuichi, let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” Shuichi took his hand, allowing himself to be led to the street, feeling too numb and disoriented to do anything else.

OoOoO


Shuichi emerged from a warm bath to find a pair of silk pajamas laid out for him that were obviously Suguru’s. The pants were a little short, but they otherwise fit fine, and he made his way out into the unfamiliar apartment, following the sound of the television until he found Suguru sitting in the front room. It was simple and elegant, in muted shades of gray and lavender, a baby grand piano taking much of the floor space before a wall to ceiling window with a great view of the city, reminding him somewhat of Seguchi’s office in the NG building.

“I made tea,” Suguru said, nodding at the set on the coffee table, where an extra cup sat waiting. Shuichi smiled gratefully, pouring himself some before sitting beside him.

“Where’s Ashia-san?” Shuichi asked.

“He’s at the studio. Sister Moon are doing some promotional gigs for a couple of days, so I decided to stay in,” Suguru said. Shuichi fidgeted guiltily in the silence that came between them before speaking.

“Suguru? Why are you doing all this for me?” Shuichi asked. Suguru sighed, placing his cup on an end table.

“It’s funny. I used to hate you, you know?” Suguru asked. Shuichi nodded, frowning.

“I was self-absorbed. I know, you told me,” Shuichi said. “I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel shut out or anything. I wish we’d talked about it back then. Maybe if I’d realized how you felt, it would have been different. I mean, I know I should have already been considering how you felt, but I’m slow like that. Bad Luck wouldn‘t have been anywhere near as good without you. I should have told you that I knew that.”

“It wasn’t that exactly. I mean, that part did annoy me,” Suguru said with a laugh, “but it was more a problem I had myself than one you did. I realize that now, and I guess that’s why I’m at peace with it.”

“A problem you had?” Shuichi asked.

“I resented you,” Suguru said with a shrug. “I felt like you had everything I longed for and you didn’t even want it.”

“What did I have that you wanted and I didn‘t?” Shuichi asked with a puzzled look. “I don’t get it.”

“No, you never did. To me it was always obvious, but even now, you have no idea, do you? It was silly for me to even blame you when you didn‘t know,” Suguru asked sadly.

“What are we talking about Suguru?” Shuichi asked in exasperation.

“Hiroshi,” Suguru said softly. “He was so in love with you, Shuichi. I thought I could make him get over you, but I really should have known better.”

Shuichi’s entire world seemed to drop out from under him at that moment. He sat the tea aside, as his hands began to tremble, and longed for something stronger. He stood, pacing the room.

“That’s -- well, that’s just ridiculous. Hiro and I have been best friends since we were kids. Sure, we’re -- well, we were really close, but Hiro wasn’t ever in love with me. That’s crazy! He never said anything! He married Ayaka!” Shuichi rambled, gesturing with his hands as he spoke.

“Calm down, Shuichi, please,” Suguru pleaded. Shuichi sat beside him, chewing his lip and staring off blankly for a moment.

“I need to call him. We need to talk about this,” Shuichi said, making to get up, before Suguru grabbed his arm.

“Shuichi, don’t be selfish. What good could possibly come of such a conversation, especially when you’re upset? Think about it,” Suguru said.

Shuichi deflated instantly, sinking back against the sofa cushions with a shaky breath.

“Did Hiro tell you he felt that way, or did you just think he did? Maybe there’s some kind of misunderstanding,” Shuichi said. “None of this makes sense.”

“I only brought it up twice, when we were together,” Suguru said, staring at his lap, where his hands were folded. “Once, after the first time he kissed me. I wanted to make sure that he wasn’t trying to use me in your place. He acted like he’d never heard anything so absurd in all his life, and he almost had me convinced that I’d been wrong. I wanted to be wrong, so I let it go.

Then -- then he just tells me one day that he’s leaving the group and marrying Ayaka. You remember how abrupt it was. We took that week break where he went to visit his parents because his mom was sick, and that was it. We got into a big fight, and I asked him why he was able to defy his parents for your sake, but not mine. I shouldn’t have asked that. I knew it was because his mother was ill and he wanted to make her happy,” Suguru sighed heavily. “Anyway, That was when he finally admitted the truth. He said it was different then because he was so in love with you that it didn’t seem like anything else mattered, and that since it hadn’t worked out and he’d lost you anyway, that he might as well make his mother happy while he still had a chance. He didn’t act as if I had even been a consideration in the decision.”

“He never said anything. Not even once, in all those years,” Shuichi said, chewing his thumbnail and wondering if Suguru kept anything to drink in the place. “He knew me well enough to know I wasn’t going to figure it out on my own, so why?”

“Maybe he was waiting for a sign you liked men, too,” Suguru said and shrugged. “And that sign was Yuki-san. Tell me, would you have given up Yuki-san for him if you had known?”

“Probably not,” Shuichi admitted. The unspoken question of what he would have done had he known before he met Yuki crept into Shuichi’s mind, only to be quickly pushed aside. Things were complicated enough already.

“So, see, then he would have just made things awkward for no reason, so what difference does it make?” Suguru asked, his usually calm voice at last betraying some of the hurt he felt. Shuichi looked at him, feeling a pang of guilt.

“It wasn’t fair the way he treated you. I’m sorry, Suguru,” Shuichi said.

“It’s in the past. I just hope he’s happy now,“ Suguru said, and stood. “Hey, it‘s almost lunchtime. Raiden will probably stop in to eat, so you want to help me in the kitchen?”

“I don’t know if you’ll call it help, but I’ll try,” Shuichi said. They each forced a smile.

OoOoO


Shuichi tried not to stare at the lanky giant who sat across from him at the narrow table, taking long pulls off his bottle of dark beer and recounting his day to Suguru, occasionally breaking into bellowing laughter at the end of his anecdotes. They made an odd pair, Shuichi thought, Ashia’s enormous presence, both physically and personality-wise, making the already small and mild mannered Suguru seem positively tiny by comparison. There was something about it that Shuichi didn’t quite like.

“Eiji was practically climbing the walls today when he found out who our houseguest is,” Ashia said, winking at Shuichi. “There was no way I was inviting him over. He’d start by humping your leg and end by stealing the covers from the guest bedroom.”

“Raiden, you’re going to freak him out,” Suguru scolded, smiling nonetheless behind his hand.

“Eiji sure freaks me out most of the time,” Ashia said, shrugging. “He has a shrine to you in his bathroom.”

“In the bathroom?” Shuichi asked, nearly choking on a bite of food.

“Yeah, told you he was weird. I actually toyed with the idea of telling him I was running home to have a threesome with the two of you just to mess with him, but I’m not entirely sure he wouldn’t have killed me,” Ashia said chuckling loudly. When he saw the other two weren’t laughing, he gave a defensive snort, crossing his arms.

“What? It’s not that far fetched. After reading about that guy in the papers today, he’s discovered his beloved has a kinky side. And he already knows I’ve got one,” Ashia said, waggling his eyebrows at Suguru, who was giving him a tight lipped frown.

“Raiden, that’s not funny,” Suguru said.

“You never think anything’s funny,” Ashia grumbled. “Go get me another beer, okay, cutie? I should have time for another before I head back.”

Suguru glared at him, but got up to go to the kitchen, Ashia swatting him on the behind as he went.

“Come on, you know I was just messing with you, right?” Ashia said, leaning across the table after Suguru left. “No hard feelings?”

“It’s fine,” Shuichi said. He felt dirty and tired, and the last thing he wanted to do right now was start an argument with Suguru’s boyfriend.

“That loser was lucky a sexy little thing like you ever gave him the time of day, right? It’ll blow over,” Ashia said, his breath reeking of stale beer. “Besides, another taint to that air of unavailability might even be good for your image, like when everyone found out you were doing that writer. Sex sells, after all.”

“I’m not even that worried about my image any more. I just want the press to leave me alone,” Shuichi said softly, picking at the food he’d lost all appetite for.

“Wouldn’t you like to make a come-back, Shuichi?” Suguru asked with a look of concern as he returned and handed Ashia his beer. “You love making music. I know you do. Didn’t being in the studio make you miss it?”

“It’s not a matter of wanting to so much as being able to,” Shuichi said, and stood, gathering their plates. “I’m going to clean up.”

Shuichi heard Ashia coaxing Suguru back from where he’d started to join him, as he scraped what was left of his lunch into the waste bin. He’d gathered the cookware they’d used and placed them in the sink with the plates, when he felt his phone vibrating against his hip.

“Hey,” Yuki said, after Shuichi answered. “I’m almost surprised you answered.”

“There aren’t a lot of people who have this number, thankfully,” Shuichi said. “I take it you saw it then.”

“Yeah. I was just wondering if you were stuck hiding from the reporters. I can ask Seguchi to get them off your back if you want,” Yuki said.

“I don’t understand you, Yuki,” Shuichi said with a sigh. “But that’s sweet of you, really.”

“So do you want me to or not?” Yuki asked irritably.

“No, it’s okay. I’m at Suguru’s. He came and got me this morning. I’m sure it’ll blow over pretty quick. I’m not big news like I used to be,” Shuichi said.

“Tohma brought me a tape of you singing with those girls,” Yuki said. “It didn’t entirely suck.” Shuichi laughed.

“That’s the first nice thing you’ve ever said about my music. It figures it would be about a song I didn’t write,” Shuichi said, running the tap.

“What the hell are you doing?” Yuki asked.

“Washing dishes. We just had lunch,” Shuichi said.

“How cozy,” Yuki muttered. “You never washed dishes when I cooked for you.”

“You never let me! You always told me to get out of your way before I broke something,” Shuichi said, smiling to himself.

“You could have insisted,” Yuki said. “So, are you working on anything else? It sounds like Seguchi’s little protégé’s pretty interested in you these days. Isn’t he some sort of big shot now?”

“He mentioned doing some gigs with Sister Moon to promote the single, but I’m not so sure, especially now,” Shuichi said.

“What, so you’re going to give up now because of some lying asshole?” Yuki asked. “Doesn’t sound like you.”

“He wasn’t lying. I slept with him,” Shuichi said with a sigh, letting the plate he was washing slip beneath the soapy water. “He’s not the first guy I’ve gone home with after getting too drunk, Yuki. He’s just the first one to decide to make some money off of it. Most of that stuff the tabloids have said about me? It’s true. I’m a total fuck up, Yuki.”

Yuki was quiet for a moment. Shuichi heard him breathe in deeply, then out, picturing him taking a drag from his cigarette. He pulled the stopper out of the drain, and went to the refrigerator, glancing through the doorway at Suguru and Ashia before getting himself a beer.

“Doesn’t matter,” Yuki said at last. “None of that shit matters, really. Even Seguchi never managed to gag all the women I used to see. You just have to act like it doesn’t bother you when they bring it up.”

“Okay, Yuki,” Shuichi said, only barely listening, and wishing things were so simple.

“Damn it, Shuichi,” Yuki said, exhaling noisily. “Why are you doing this to yourself? You were supposed to be happier.”

“Oh, so that was your plan?” Shuichi asked bitterly. “Tell me you’re sick of my moping, and kick my ass out on the street for my own good, huh?”

“You weren’t happy, even when we got back together,” Yuki said.

“Well, excuse me for not turning cartwheels! My best friend had just walked out on the band, ever think that might have had something to do with it? Of course I was depressed,” Shuichi said, slamming the bottle down on the counter and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Face it, Yuki. You just didn’t want to deal with it, because you didn‘t know how to. I get that, okay? Look, I love you, and I forgive you, and thank you for calling, but I just -- I need to go, okay?”

Shuichi hung up the phone and pressed his back to the counter, sliding down until he reached the floor. He looked up to see Suguru standing in the doorway.

“Yuki called,” Shuichi said.

“I heard,” Suguru said with a sigh. He walked over to the counter, picking up the empty beer bottle.

“Sorry. I’ll go out and buy Ashia more tomorrow,” Shuichi said. Suguru put it back and went to the refrigerator, handing Shuichi a full bottle.

“He drinks too much, anyway,” Suguru said. “Come to think of it, so do you. But I’ll let it slide tonight.”

“Thanks,” Shuichi said.

“I don’t know how you drink the stuff, to tell the truth,” Suguru said, wrinkling his nose. “But I do know two things. If I’m going to drink with you, I’m making margaritas. And we’re not going to drink sitting on the kitchen floor.”

“Fair enough,” Shuichi said, taking Suguru’s offered hand with a smile, and allowing him to pull him up from the floor. “Can I have one, too? I don’t like beer much either. It was just there.”

“Sure. I’m a lightweight anyway, so it’ll be good to share,” Suguru said, opening the freezer. “The tequila is in the cabinet behind you.”

Shuichi opened the cabinet, finding a pair of handcuffs sitting on the lowest shelf, and holding them up, one eyebrow raised. Suguru turned red.

“Those are Raiden’s. He has such a weird sense of humor,” Suguru muttered, rolling his eyes. “If you find anything else weird, don’t ask.”

“So, how did the two of you get together?” Shuichi asked, grabbing the tequila, and putting the handcuffs back.

“Well, I produced their first album, and we were in the studio a lot,” Suguru said, taking the bottle from Shuichi. “We absolutely couldn’t stand each other. He would second guess every little change I made, question or flat out ignore every suggestion -- I wanted to quit and push them off on Sakano, but Tohma wouldn’t let me. I couldn’t deny that I found him attractive though. He had this way of pushing my buttons, I guess.”

“So what happened?” Shuichi asked. Suguru gave an embarrassed smile, before turning away to retrieve a large glass pitcher.

“Well, things kind of came to a head, I suppose. We were yelling at each other, and Eiji stormed off, and the next thing I knew we were kind of making out. I don’t even remember who started it,” Suguru said. “It was really funny though. We somehow ended up on the mixing table, and the arrangement I’d made of the song we were arguing about starting playing. He stopped and starting laughing about half-way through it, and I asked him what his problem was. He admitted that after giving it a try, he liked my version better anyway.” Shuichi laughed.

“That sounds like something that would happen to us,” Shuichi said, then awkwardly added, “Without the, um, making out part, of course.”

“Yeah, you used to give me hell over my arrangements, too,” Suguru said with a frown.

“And then end up eating crow every single time,” Shuichi added with a shrug. “It used to drive me nuts how I’d think I’d come up with something I thought sounded perfect, and then you’d just waltz in and make it sound better in like, five minutes.”

“Oh, so that’s why you were always so pissy,” Suguru said teasingly, giving the mixture in the pitcher one last stir. “I think we’re done. Want to be the guinea pig?” Shuichi accepted the glass Suguru poured for him.

“Good enough for me,” Shuichi said.

They carried everything into the living room, settling in on the sofa.

“I was hoping I could be a good influence on you, and here you are getting me drunk in the middle of the freaking day,” Suguru said, shaking his head. “We should be able to go get your stuff without being mobbed tomorrow. I set up a good publicist for you while you were asleep, someone who’s worked for NG for a while. He’ll give them some sort of statement, and get them off your trail.”

“Wait, what?” Shuichi asked. “Go get my stuff? I should be able to just back to my place then, right?” Suguru shook his head.

“I think you should move in here until you get cleaned up, don’t you?” Suguru asked with a polite smile. Shuichi gaped at him.

“You’re crazy. You can’t just keep me, like I’m a stray cat or something!” Shuichi said in disbelief. “Besides, what’s Ashia-san going to say?”

“Stray cats have better survival skills,” Suguru said with a smirk. “And Raiden has no say in the matter. This is my apartment, he just squats here when he feels like it.”

“But there’s nothing to clean up, really,” Shuichi said, fidgeting. “I mean, I go clubbing because things are just kind of empty for me right now, I guess. It’s not like I’m on drugs or anything.”

“Let’s see, you aren’t working, there’s no new music, and you’re getting drunk enough to pass out on park benches or sleep with total strangers on a daily basis. You’re so thin I can see your ribs, and I wouldn’t put a dog I liked in that place you’re staying. Sounds like a mess to me,” Suguru said. “You can’t live off our royalties forever, Shuichi.”

“You never mince words, do you?” Shuichi asked with a frown. “You don’t have time to babysit me, anyway. It’s going to get old really fast. I’ll just disappoint you, like everyone else.”

“But you’ll stay, right?” Suguru asked. Shuichi looked at him for a long moment, wondering if the younger man was lonely to be taking on such a hopeless cause as himself.

“I guess I could stay for a little while, since my lease is nearly up,” Shuichi said. “If that’s what you really want.”

“Good,” Suguru said with a smile. “You can start the day after tomorrow.”

“Start what now?” Shuichi asked blankly, wondering if he’d missed something.

“You’re my new assistant. That is, until you feel like you want to start singing again. You didn’t think I was going to let you sit around here feeling sorry for yourself, did you?” Suguru asked, clinking his glass against Shuichi‘s.