*Note: This story takes place 50 years into DMMD future and I'd like to state that, yes, Aoba and Sei and Clear are 73 years old but they look as if they are 23. In the game, they state Aoba is born in a lab and dies like a human, but if Aoba and Sei are both man-made super beings, I'd like to believe that they are eternal, along with Clear. So uh, yeah :) ~ Meko-chan

Clear

..All in all
You're no good
You don't cry
Like you should
Let it go
If you could
When Love dies in the end...

So I'll find what lies beneath
Your sick twisted smile
as I lie underneath
Your cold jaded eyes
Now you turned the tide on me
Cuz you're so unkind
I will always be here for the rest of my life~

Clear sung to the crowd as the crowd sang along with him. Most even knew the song by heart, without even needing his lead. God, He can't blame them though, this was his favorite song too. Aoba's metal screams and bass throughout the song made his ears bleed and ring with sadistic pleasure, while Sei's drums made him feel as though his "heart" was replaced with a drum, as it beat to the andante rhythm.
Clear's voice pieced the bass and drum and the guitar-which he played- together as he lead the song and instruments melodically from start to finish without omission.
These, things...characteristics...traits, molded their band into a trio named Eikyō-Ka, which meant Under the Influence in Japanese.

The song fades out and the descending of the curtain closed out the show for the night. But the crowd now behind the curtain opposed, chanting and cheering for more. But Eikyō-Ka simply didn't pay any mind to it. They were done for the night, the fans came for what they paid for.

Clear let out a sigh of relief and started to unhook microphones and small gadgets that were attached to him for the performance. He couldn't wait to get out off of that stage.

"Clear..." Visibly relieved, the addressed robot turned to the sound of the voice behind him; Aoba.
"Yes, Aoba-san?" He acknowledged the address.

"Can we talk in private, please?" He asked.

The snowette lifted an eyebrow in the same motion when he nodded agreement to the request.
"Good." Spinning on booted his heel, Aoba turned and lead Clear to his dressing room while Clear followed behind. Stepping inside, the robot closed the door behind him. Curiosity was the feeling he felt. Ah man, Clear hated things like things. He hated when people said 'can we talk?' Or 'I need to talk to you' because even though he didn't do anything troublemaking, it still felt like he was in trouble or they found out some secret from the past (it's not like he has any though) and the anxiety is harsh on him when things like this does happen.

Aoba took a seat on the black leather lover's couch, crossing his black jeaned legs over one another, patting the empty spot beside him. Noticing the gesture, Clear sat in the assigned spot, the couch propping Aoba up as his weight hit the leather.

They sat in silence for a moment. Uncomfortable silence. The atmosphere grew a little stuffy-for Clear.
Aoba was the intimidating one out of him and Sei, and the matters were made worse because Aoba rarely talked to Clear. So for Aoba even wanting to talk to him, in private, was nerve wrecking enough.
Clear cleared his throat and spoke up:
"So? What did you need, Aoba-san?"
He said with pale thumbs twiddling.

He wanted the get out of the room. The air was becoming constricting and he could feel the anxiety rising slowly in the pits of his lower abdomen. He put a gloved finger under the hem of his collar and tugged at it, for the reason being of the black shirt feeling tight around the neck.

White eyebrows lowered over precious artificial pink orbs and gloved fingers fiddled with one another in hope that the bluenette would spit it out.

Aoba's wheat colored eyes narrowed slightly, watching Clear fidget and fiddle.
"Jeez. I wish you would calm down, you look as if I'm interrogating you for a murder. And I'm growing irritated with your hyperactive-ness so, chill."

Clear stopped at once. Remaining to sit still.

"Look, I'm going to get straight to the point because I gave places to be and people to see," He crossed his arms over his leather clothed chest, "Are you, depressed?"

Clearly caught off guard by the question, Clear's brows raised, turning to the dominating male that sat beside him. Looks of anxiousness plastered Aoba face.
The robot let out a soft chuckle, nerves calming down and shoulders lowering.

"What do you mean? As you can tell I'm happy, Aoba-san." A feigned smile spread over his cheeks. Aoba's eyes became nothing but slits.
"Are you sure, Clear?" He accused.

He nodded.
"I'm positive, Aoba-san. I've just been a little tired from the tour. But other than that I'm perfectly fine...See!" Another forced smile spread over his lips.

Aoba hummed, accusation still in his eyes.

Aoba knew that he was lying. 'Cause for one, Clear was horrid liar. And two, over the years, Aoba has witnessed Clear's white soul stain black. He had witnessed the smiles and laughs, turn into frowns and silence and he knew why this was.

Toue.

Clear held deep, intense repugnance at the fact of stripping innocent humans of their freedom and lives. The world was stupid. Gullible. And stubborn. They believed anything, and never listened to the truth of the lies that has been told. They loved to believe in fiction rather than reality which is why, a great deal of this predicament fell on them. However, this was wrong. Everything was wrong. Everyone still deserved to have a mind of their own. Everyone deserved to live how they wanted too. Everyone deserved a fucking right. Freedom is the key to all happiness and if you're not free...tell me...will you really be happy?

"Bullshit, but whatever, I'll take your word for it, Clear." Though his tone didn't really sound like he accepted Clear's answer.

Aoba can still remember how annoyingly happy Clear was, but now that he's not, it's more annoying to have him whine rather than smile, so that's exactly why he called Clear for this "talk", he just wanted to help the robot because he knows what the pain of depression feels like.

"But just in case, I want you to take this..." Aoba reached into his tight jean pockets and yanked out a small bag filled with white powdery contents. He leaned his elbow on the armrest, passing the bag to the boy.
"It's medicine from a good 'doctor' I know. Her medicine got me in tip top shape when I felt 'under the weather'. So whenever you feel bad or worried or nervous, just sniff the white stuff, but only a little...or a lot, I really don't care."

Clear looked at the tiny bag in his hand and pulled another Botox smile. He stood and bowed.
"Like I said, Aoba-san. I'm one-hundred percent fine but thanks for the concer-."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." he waved his hand in dismissal. "Just stop looking all, ew, every time I see you..."

Clear's brows lowered while his eyes looked down, a frown against his mouth showed only a second until his face quickly straightened out and faked a smile once more.
Clear spoke up:
"Well, I shall bid you adieu, Aoba-san." He bowed again. "Im going to go for a walk. I'll be back at the tour bus in a couple of hours. Pass the message to Sei-san, thank you for the concern and help."

Aoba raised his hand slightly to signal 'bye.' Clear walked towards the door, yanked it open and thankfully left the room he was so desperate to get out of.

Aoba felt a little low and dirty about giving the clueless robot boy cocaine. But really, it shouldn't have any really bad physical effects on him; probably mental though. Aoba just got tired of the depressed feeling around the Oval Tower. Sei was a too nice crybaby, Alphas were little shits and Clear was getting depressed, Aoba just needed some fun in this time of need. Couldn't mess with Sei because that is his brother. Couldn't mess with Alphas because Clear would shit himself, so, when it all comes down to it, Clear was the perfect candidate.

' Ew.' Aoba thought and cringed internally. 'Helping people is...disgusting.'