Author: Imhotep Ardeth Bey

Rating: PG-13

Note: Due to an extremely large unhappy fan response to the prologue with descriptions of the Final Fantasy characters, I have hereby deleted and reposted my story to not only get rid of those reviews but to ensure that I don't have to deal with idiots anymore. From now on, I'd prefer if the reviews were on my story, or not at all, because there is no longer a character list for you to critisize. Apologies to those who needed it.

Comments: The songs are not mine. At the end of every chapter is the true artist behind the lyrics in which I have used. Some lyrics I have used may be from alternative or punk-rock songs, but try to imagine they are being sang, because Riku and the Destiny Boys are POP singers. Furthermore, this story is an Alternate Universe using characters from various Final Fantasy games and Kindom Hearts.

Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy VII, VIII, X, and X-2 do not belong to me in the slightest. On the contrary it is split into many different sections and belongs to quite a few people unequally. Talk to them if you want to sue me, but most likely you're one of them if you're planning on it.

Keep in mind that as the story commences I will be trying my hardest to minimize the appearance of self-made characters in the story. This means two things.

1. Any self-made characters I just happen to involve will never have anything to do with the story in a larger sense. They will most likely be in roles that are too quick to be wasted on a canon character that I may be able to think of ( It's difficult to think of them all, I don't like wasting the ones I think of! )

2. Because of maximum complaining, I have removed the section of this story that described the various final fantasy characters involved. If you do not know the Final Fantasy characters, can be extremely helpful, and besides all that, my characters in this story are Alternate Universe, which means that their personalities may be slightly different, as are the situations that they are in. Pleas refrain from commenting about the characteristics of the canon final fnatasy characters beause this story is Alternate Universe, and I claim the right to use the characters however I wish after admitting to this.

Any other characters you may happen to detect will be, on the extremely small roles, made up by me, and, on the mediocre roles, pulled from random Animes. You don't need to understand where they come from, because this story is Alternate Universe (one more time). Just know thatI didn't make them up. I didn't make up any of these people. I'm unoriginal. Or perhaps I just think original characters should not be used in fanfiction. Either way, you all shouldn't mind, and if you do, don't comment, because this story is an Alternate Universe.

Prologue ( Finally! )

Show business was his business; it was his life, his true meaning. Nothing seemed to matter once the microphone was in his hand and the music began to play. Everything was a simple blur of sounds and rhythm, and none of the matters and problems that had been so important before sauntering on stage seemed that way. Singing was like flying, flying away, flying so high that his problems looked like tiny ants on a large anthill.

When singing he would squash those ants as he danced, letting all of his problems die before his eyes and rebirth themselves in the picture of a cheering crowd. No matter how insincere and personality-less they were, he loved them. He loved every single one of them.

Should one fan decide that the show is not worth their time, or their money, everything would be ruined. One fan always adds up. That one fan could be any screaming individual in the crowd. One could easily turn to thousands in the blink of an eye. It had happened in his favor, and he knew that life wouldn't hesitate to turn the tides against him in mere seconds.

His eyes traveled over the blurs of color that he knew were thousands of people, not feeling his usual euphoria at seeing such a crowd, devoted to him, only him. Their large, neon signs he was sure scrawled love confessions did not cause his heart to soar in wonderment, and the screams of the girls that would normally give him a large boost of energy did nothing.

When had he begun to feel as though he was being forced to do what he loved? When had being himself become a full time job?

The day he had become a celebrity.

Truly, he felt as though his fame had been achieved overnight. He was still the boy he remembered himself to be, with just a self-titled CD under his belt to brag about. However, for how long? How long until this fame, this power over anyone and everything in the entertainment world changed who he was, who he wanted to be?

Would he notice himself changing, or would he be oblivious to it all, a snobby celebrity uncaring of the world around him? Would he be able to stop himself, or would this pressure take its toll upon him? Would his second CD be as popular as his first? Was he doomed to be a one hit wonder?

All of this raged through his head as he got into his assigned position on the stage, his hired dancers positioning themselves perfectly behind him and flashing him thumbs ups and encouraging grins every which way. He shook his head, unsure of what he was doing. If he was this unhappy after only his first CD, what was the reason to keep going?

All was answered as the call of the crowd outside reached him.

"Riku, Riku, Riku!" They all seemed to be one voice, screaming a name that had seemed so normal to him, yet so exotic to them. Hearing thousands of people, young and old screaming the name that his friends had called him back home was almost unreal. He was still waiting for himself to wake up.

"Riku, Riku, Riku!" The crowd is getting louder, and the technical crew is scampering about, finding the band and fixing the tracks. Many people are so frustrated that they are crying, and he could see many a vein in multiple foreheads.

All because of him.

They're signaling to him. It's almost time to begin. Counting down from ten.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

He began to get nervous. He knew he had done live shows before, but in front of so many people, who were all so expectant? Never. He knew he would be fine, but would he make it to produce a second album?

Four.

Three.

Two.

Slowly, with a shaking hand, he raised the microphone to his lips.