A/N: I've been finding so many songs lately that just remind me of xxxHolic that I couldn't resist writing this...though I do hope that you will like it.

Disclaimer: I do not own xxxHolic, nor do I own Trapt's song made of glass

Chapter 1: Mic Check

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Three sustained notes, then simple pluckings, streaming, as if driving down a curving road. A deep breath.

"I don't know anything at all, and I'm somebody else. It could take years to find you, it could take years to find myself."

Turn the mic up for the bass, down on the second. Another breath.

"And I don't need to hear your answer, I just need you to see, that I think its time to breakdown these walls that we throw."

I see them whisper behind the sound proof glass, making comments about tone and pitch, when to bring in the editing, when to stop. My eyes stop on a man sitting condescendingly in the back, one leg folded over the other, carefree windblown chestnut hair, piercing green eyes, as if he knew something the others in that room didn't. Mr. Smith the executive director.

I placed one hand on the large earphones, pushing the cushioned fibers of the left ear piece closer, to try and block out the frustrations.

"Am I still breathing, have I lost that feeling, am I made of glass 'cause, you see right through me. I don't know who I am, and you're the only one who sees that, I can't find the questions, they cannot be answered today."

They shake their heads excitedly, adjusting small knobs, checking the varying monitors. The man in the back stands, and the music coming from the headset stops, as do I, looking at the men in the other room. A tall man in glasses speaks into the small mic coming from the countertop.

"That's enough for now Doumeki, we're going to make some adjustments, then we want to go over track two." Stated the relaxed voice, and I nodded removing the headset, resting it on the stand in-front of me. I casually stepped out of the soundproofed room, and entered the one where my band-mates sat, retuning their instruments and I picked up my resting guitar, preparing to give it the same care.

"I can't believe this is actually happening." Commented our bassist, Sakura - a slim, short haired ball of exuberance with green eyes. I smiled at her, as did the other two members.

"It doesn't even seem real." Retorted Kunogi, our drummer, whose cascading black hair draped over her shoulder and into her face as she went to adjust and tighten a screw on her standing cymbal.

Syaoran laughed next to me, as the brunette tuned his sun-burst stratocaster, leather strap over his shoulder. "Lets just...not screw up." He added. Sakura punched him softly on the shoulder. "Don't be a buzz kill." She said happily, showing that she was only joking. He blushed, strumming the strings of his guitar.

This was our first actual recording under the mainstream label Lattice Records. We had just signed with them after being scouted a good two months ago, so we were all nerves and giggles, well as giggly as I could ever possibly get, which was very minimal.

The men on the other side of the glass waved, indicating that they were ready. The same man spoke to us through the mic. "We'll do the instrumentals first, then vocals. Just wait for the count-off." He stated, smiling eagerly.

He fingered off the counting, and we prepared, until finally we started.

--

I knocked, but there was no answer. I could hear several muffled movements from behind the door, but then again, I could have just imagined it. "Mr. Smith?" I questioned as I reached for the door knob, "I'm comi...ng in..." I dragged off at the scene behind the door.

Mr. Smith was pressing a rather slim, charcoal haired boy against the side of his desk, shirt slightly askew, brilliant blue eyes piercing through me. Mr. Smith simply turned his head away from his previous engagement- somewhere with the obviously much younger boy's exposed neck- and looked at me, as if this wasn't at all out of the ordinary.

"Ah, Doumeki, thanks for coming." He said, then turned back to the smaller boy and whispered something in his ear. The boy smirked, then pulled his shirt back onto his shoulder, slowly sauntering out of the room, threading one dainty hand through his disheveled hair, giving me a deathly paralyzing glare all the while.

I coughed to clear my throat of my discomfort. Mr. Smith just sat down on the large, rolling chair behind his desk, crossed his legs, laced his fingers together and rested his chin upon the small bridge his hands had created.

"Now back to business." He smiled to himself, causing something within my stomach boiled at his comment. "The recording went nicely." He stated and I bowed stiffly. "Thank you." I returned.

"But if I could- in the upmost interest of the company of course- make a few suggestions." He asked confidently and I nodded for him to continue.

"Ah, this is why I like you so much Doumeki, you never get defensive, willing to accept any form of beneficial improvement." He said lightly, standing from his chair, leaning onto his desk.

"Anything for the music." I responded. Mr. Smith's lips curved. "Well firstly." He started.

"I want to add another vocal. And if you wouldn't mind, I would like him to be the lead." He stated, firm conviction is his voice. I thought it through my head, and saw no real objection to it, as long as it made the sound more worth-while it would be find.

I nodded in agreement, causing Mr. Smith to smile again for what I could only wish to be the last sickening time that day.

"All that is fine, but I thought that this was to discus a manager." I started, remembering the reason I had been called in the first place.

"Ah, true." Mr. Smith stated, pushing a small button on the telephone on his desk. "Send her in." He said into the speaker, then he turned to me, smiling from ear to ear.

The loud clicking of stiletto heals could be heard from the other side of the wooden doors when finally said doors burst open, and an eerie, apprehensive feeling crept up my spine.

Not a good sign.

"Have another one for me Terry?" Came a teasing and very very female voice. Mr. Smith just laughed a little unevenly as the woman slid her way over to him, draping an arm over his shoulder, pulling him into a choke-hold. She then ran her crimson eyes over me, and I froze, though I'm sure that my hesitance didn't show. "Ah, is he the one?"

"uh, yes Ichihara, and his band as well." He tried to pull out of the grip, but failed. "Doumeki, this will be your representative of sorts, Ms. Yuko Ichihara, I'm sure you'll get along fine." He stated, somewhat uncharacteristically unsure.

Yuko was garbed in some rather...uh how do I say...provocative, yes definitely provocative, clothing and the way that she carried herself just made me worry for my well-being. That was saying something, coming from myself of all people.

"Its a pleasure to meet you Doumeki, I look forward to working with you in the future. Here's my card." She sensually slurred, handing me a small square of paper. I looked at the item uncertainly before taking it and tucking it away in my back pocket.

"Likewise." I coughed out and she smiled. She then turned back to Mr. Terry Smith. "Well, if that's it. I'll be seeing you around." She declared before walking away, but before she disappeared through the door she placed a hand on my shoulder.

"I can't wait to see what we'll get out of you two." And then she was gone, leaving the same eerie feeling in my stomach.

--

We had all decided to meet at a local cafe after the meeting with the corporate exec.

"So what did he want?" Sakura eagerly interrogated the minute I sat down. I breathed out, quickly relaying all of the events through my head.

"Well we got our manager..." I trailed off, not really wanting to deliberate but knowing I would have to. Sakura breathed out in a lack of patience. "What're they like?" She quickly asked.

I sighed again. "She's...capable...to say the least." And though Sakura wasn't content with this answer, Syaoran just patted her shoulder and she gave in.

"That's not all is it?" Kunogi asked me, and I looked at her. She was always able to read me like that. I took a deep breath.

"He wants to add one more member." I said. "And I'm not really against it."

Everyone seemed to think this over, all coming to the same conclusion as I had. "The more the merrier." Sakura stated and we all shook our heads.

"What do they want them to do? Keyboards?" Syaoran asked and I turned my gaze to him. "Vocals." I informed.

"But that's your spot Shizuka." Kunogi started and I just nodded to her statement. "I'll just do back-ups for both vocal and guitar. As long as it sounds good." And everyone shook their heads in agreement.

That was why we all worked so well together, why we even lasted this long. We lived for the music, for the sound, for the purity of it.

And if there was anyway to add to it, we were all for it.

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A/N: So what do you think? I hope its not too cliche, and I haven't seen anyone do this theme yet for the fandom, so I got dibbs. Please Review and let me know what you think!