Everyone has to start somewhere. Apollo Justice was no different. As a brand new defense attorney, he was given a chance to prove himself in court.
It didn't last, of course. Nothing does.
It started out innocent enough. Protect the client, expose the witness for her various lies. Mysteries began to show up, but he shoved them off for simple explanations. Missing cards? Obviously the killer took them—for a reason, no doubt. His client, Mr. Wright, had a daughter? And according to Mr. Wright, he'd see her someday? He hoped not.
"This is certainly a… unique cross-examination." His boss had pointed this out rather matter-of-factly. He was too sure of himself and his poetic sense of humor. His words had crime written all over them.
He was soon accused of murder, the bastard. What motive did he have? How could he do this to Gavin Law Offices, and all the past clients he had ever stood for?
"You know even I'd never take a joke this far," Mr. Wright said. As a well known ex-lawyer, people expected him to speak the truth. Apollo believed in his client, for if he couldn't, he knew he had to quit there and then. It wasn't an option; his secret ability, though he was unaware of it, told him so.
So—what was he supposed to do? Lose his first trial shamefully for the sake of a potential murderer? He thought not.
"This isn't about loyalty… This is about the truth!"
There was sincerity in his voice, and two fateful meetings shortly thereafter: one in the judge's chamber, and one with a little magician girl who, again, he hadn't hoped to meet.
And there were accusations flying around. Evidence being shown. Sweat and tears and fury brought tension to the sacred room.
Eventually… Finally. There was forged evidence (which he only learned after the fact, but still), and a not guilty verdict. A win, and—
And a swift, goddamn punch in the face to the one who almost ended his career in an instant.
xxx
Klavier Gavin hadn't expected such a rough start. His parents had always said the real world was brutal, but—come on, what was this?
He had always been called a genius. At first, he thought it was a farce meant to boost his self-esteem, but then people outside of his family confirmed it. Students at the Themis Legal Academy told him he could amount to anything. His idol, Constance Courte, told him he had the most potential out of anyone—and he wasn't even her student!
When he pleaded to participate in a court against Phoenix Wright at the age of seventeen, he was denied. He was told he'd get harshly beaten. Told, blatantly, that he'd fail. He didn't ask again, not even after graduation.
He was twenty-four now, and he wasn't a genius. He was a man who could fake intelligence by devoting all of his time and attention to the things he loved most: law and music.
Yes, he went to school for law, but it wasn't getting him anywhere. Times were rough for those without experience—this was why he had tried to gain the experience while he could! That one fateful trial had seemed to determine the rest of his life. No chief prosecutor wanted him, not even Wright's rival. But they couldn't say why other than the idea that law wasn't where his talents lay.
If law wasn't his life, then music was. He had a myriad of toy instruments by the time he was two-years-old. Forget trucks and action figures and video games. The guitar was his focus. In time he learned the chords, melodies and notes, and soon, whole songs. He performed at birthday parties for a small bit of money, and he wrote songs for his crushes in hopes of capturing their hearts.
In fact… he was still doing it. He was still playing for money. While looking for a job. …He had wanted to be a prosecutor first, a musician second.
What had happened to his plans, his dreams? Oh, he was living his dream now, almost. It was so close, anyway, yet out of reach. He was dead set on getting to where he thought he should be.
xxx
Two years had passed. Klavier was twenty-six, Apollo, twenty-four.
Apollo had been through Hell and back, it seemed. After much deliberation, he decided to work for the same man who had forced him to present fabricated evidence to the court. He came to respect Mr. Wright, even saw him as a father figure of sorts, and he wouldn't trade Mr. Wright's daughter, Trucy, for anyone in the world, but he felt that he could do… better.
Phoenix Wright was known for forgery. For bluffing. For… turning things around. Yes, he sought the truth, but it wasn't enough for Apollo.
He started setting up online profiles. Created his own business cards, put his name out there for potential clients. He set aside money to move out of the Wright Anything Agency—so correctly named, it was—and he purchased his own apartment and a small office not too far from his friends.
It wasn't hard to get clients, seeing as the amount of reporters hounding him after the Kristoph Gavin trial was insurmountable. His boss had been the best of the best, after all. How did it feel to see your boss in chains? Why did you betray your boss the way you did? People wanted to know.
And, boy, did things get ever worse when he worked for Mr. Wright. With the ex-lawyer's reputation, his own morals were brought into question. Some clients came to him because they didn't know about Mr. Wright's past. Others came to him because they expected him to win the trial at all costs. When Apollo was able to prove he could win trials fairly and justly, his popularity skyrocketed in the newspapers, on television, and so on.
He had money, he had fame. Murder and crime still followed him. He brought down people with great jobs, such as Daryan Crescend (who was musician first, cop second, it appeared). In addition, he met Kristoph Gavin in a later trial, having to punish him once again. He faced off against the great Miles Edgeworth, and somehow won, which only boosted his name and face to not only the judge, but to the whole state of California. And he couldn't forget his best friend, Clay Terran, being murdered for the sake of his own dreams. He hadn't moved on yet; all he could do was continue to be the lawyer Clay knew he was destined to be.
Still, not all things had been bad. He took a trip to Germany with Mr. Wright and hired an employee in the process. He had gone to assist Mr. Wright in learning about foreign legal systems (and, really, Mr. Wright needed the money to travel), and he had found her instead. She was young and capable, and Apollo liked that. She also had knowledge of psychology, which Apollo lacked. He knew it, knew it in his heart of hearts—because he couldn't understand his former boss, or anyone, not even himself—and so he recruited her without a second thought.
He was asked to come back to the Wright Anything Agency once, after Mr. Wright retrieved his attorney's badge through the help of Mr. Edgeworth, who was now Chief Prosecutor. Apollo refused, but he offered his investigation services nonetheless. He helped the dark age of the law come to an end, and in the process, he helped his worker, Athena, and her long lost friend, Simon Blackquill. One was cleared of charges regarding murdering her mother, and the other was saved from execution. Apollo couldn't have been more proud of himself and his flourishing career.
Klavier, on the other hand… had been watching Apollo from the stand. He didn't mean to be a stalker, but the man had intricate ties to his family and friends. Kristoph was his brother, and Daryan was his childhood friend. Kristoph was supposed to be there until the day he died, and Daryan… Well, there was talk of starting a band, but they could never agree on how serious they wanted to be, and Klavier wasn't into being famous or well known. He supposed that now, it didn't matter.
And after all this time, he was continually having trouble landing prosecutor jobs. No one wanted to hire him when he had ties to a murderer. You want revenge against the people belonging to the legal system, Mr. Gavin? Go somewhere else.
He went somewhere else. To casinos, to bars, to downtown areas, anywhere at all. He wrote songs. Played songs to pay for rent and food. Wrote more songs. And okay, he lied. He did get some prosecuting jobs… by witnessing crimes at the sketchier, rundown places. How many murders had he seen now, and scams, and acts of hatred? He couldn't count, but he was secretly quite grateful. A witness makes for a damning prosecutor, if he did say so himself. Others thought differently, believing that if he was surrounded by crime on a daily basis, he was involved in underhanded tactics as well.
Did that defense attorney Apollo Justice know about what he had done? Did he know that those he accused—legitimately or not—had families and lives to attend to? There were repercussions even to seeking justice, but he bet the man never thought about that. Not even once.
Not that Klavier could complain, of course. If he thought otherwise, he wouldn't have sought a job in law to begin with. Maybe it only hurt because it was so personal. …Maybe Apollo reconsidered his profession once his best friend was murdered.
Then again, maybe he didn't.
How badly he wanted to know the thoughts inside that lawyer's mind.