A/N: Hey everyone! so this is my first Kingdom Hearts fanfiction. It's AU, so don't go wondering where this is taking place. This was thought up on the spot, after hearing the song She Will Be Loved by Maroon 5 on the radio. It's not done of course, but here's chapter one. My friend read this over and some things weren't clear to her, but I should get around to clearing them up in the next chapters. Also, I don't know how long this is going to be or when I'll be able to update next, but don't worry, I will update. Also also, I love constructive criticism. Feel free to give me some, because this is my first time typing in first person.

Zexion's POV

"Mom! I'm sick of this!" I called out to my mother, pulling my sweatshirt from the rack. I pulled it on and made my way to the door. A short, stout lady watched me from the top of the stairs.

"You'll be back." she replied, a smirk on her lips.

I glared at her, past my slate-grey hair that mimicked hers. "I'm eighteen. I'll do what I want." I hissed back, throwing open the door. Rain pounded the streets, but that didn't stop me. I threw myself out into the freezing water, slamming the door behind me. After a few minutes, I realized how stupid I was of leaving the house in just a sweatshirt, but I wasn't going back inside any time soon. I pulled up my hood and shoved my hands into the pockets of my jacket. Deciding it best to get out of the rain, I made my way to the nearest cafe, which wasn't that hard considering I lived in the city. I had a favorite shop a block away, and a good amount of money from my job.

Demyx's POV

I stared up at the rain, sighing as it hit my face. I loved days like these, the cleanliness it gave the city. Except on these days it was hard for me make money. People wouldn't stand out in the rain to watch a poor high-school dropout try and make a living. I could play music, which was my main source of income, but on rainy days, I had to find somewhere indoors to play my music. I shuffled into a coffee shop, enjoying the smell for however long I could.

"May I help you?" asked the lady behind the counter.

"Can I play in here?" I asked her, holding up my instrument case. It was larger than a guitar case, considering it wasn't a guitar anyway.

"What's the instrument?"

"Sitar."

"Never heard one of those. We get many keyboard players and guitarists, but never heard a sitar. How about I give you five an hour?"

I was shocked. Five an hour? That was as much as I made for five hours at most places I went to. "Sure." I replied and smiled.

"Name?" she asked me.

"Demyx."

"Last name?"

"Don't got one."

She shrugged, and pointed to a small stage off to the side. I made my way to it, trying my best not to hit anyone with my case. Stepping onto the stage I turned around to move my sitar up with me, and heard a yelp. "Shit." I swore, quickly moving my sitar out of the way. There was a younger guy standing stunned, a cup of coffee shoved into his chest. He glared at me and I dropped my instrument to help him. "You okay?" I asked, mentally slapping myself for being so careless.

"No. You just knocked a burning cup of coffee into my chest. May I tell you that cup was seven bucks too."

I stared him blankly. Seven bucks? It would take me a hour and half to pay him back. I hoped I would be getting tips.

"Are you alright?" he asked me.

"I'll pay you back." I promised, bowing my head in shame. "What's your name?" The younger boy grunted, tossing his cup into a nearby trash container.

"Zexion. And you don't have to pay me back. It obvious you don't have much money." he said, and walked back to the counter to get another cup of coffee.

I stared, dumbfounded. Usually people made me pay them back if I screwed up, but he didn't want me to. I shook my head and jumped back onto the stage. I would pay him back anyway.

Zexion's POV

I sipped my coffee carefully, watching the stage. The wet spot hadn't dried yet, but I didn't expect it to anytime soon. Luckily I also didn't expect to be leaving anytime soon. Staring at the table, music flowed into my ears. It was beautiful music, nothing I had ever heard before. I remembered the guy who had knocked my cup into my chest, and looked towards the stage. The blonde boy was sitting cross legged on the floor, a large guitar-like instrument nestled in the crook of his legs. It was an interesting sound that came from the instrument, but wonderful too. What was this sandy-blonde man's name? I needed to know, and got up to make my way to him. He had a tip jar set up and I rummaged around my pocket for a couple of singles.

"I can't accept." I heard him say, just finishing up the song. He stood, looking at me.

"And why not?" I retorted, finding a dollar in my pocket. I glared and went to shove the money into the jar. He grabbed my wrist.

"I still owe you seven bucks for that coffee." he told me, and I pulled my arm back.

"Didn't I tell you not to worry about it?" I asked him, glaring up. I hadn't realized how blue his eyes were before, and they stared intensely at me.

"I'm going to pay you back." he said firmly.

"Then tell me your name, so I can yell at you for being an idiot." I said, crossing my arms. He laughed, an interesting noise.

"My name? It's Demyx." he said.

"Demyx, you're an idiot." I told him and he laughed again.

"Tell me something I don't know." I thought quickly for a retort.

"Did you know mullets are way out of style now?"

Demyx glared at me. "Now don't you go dissing my hair." I shrugged.

"I never said I was dissing your hair, I was just stating a fact."

Demyx crossed his arms. "Oh really? You don't think it looks stupid?"

"No. I don't. Actually, I think it looks pretty cool."

He smiled, and turned to get his instrument again. "Want to talk? I'll play for another hour and then I'll take a break."

I nodded. "Alright." As his back was turned I shoved the dollar I still had clutched in my fist into the tip jar.

"What's wrong with you?" Demyx turned and asked me, sitting on the floor.

"What do you mean?"

"I hit you with my sitar case and you tell me not to pay you back for the coffee, then you come and give me a dollar?"

"I guess so."

"I don't need your charity. I'll pay you back." Demyx mumbled, pulling his sitar into his lap.

I shook my head. What was wrong with him? One minute he was all nice and happy, then he was pissed at me for telling him not to pay me back. "No you won't" I replied. "Why can't you just leave it?"

Demyx stared at me. "Because I hate having debts to pay."

"But it's not a debt."

"I don't care. I'm going to pay you back one way or another."

"Fine." I said, finally caving in. I stomped off to my table, sat down, and drank the rest of my coffee.

Demyx's POV

I packed up my sitar case and the cashier lady walked up to me. "Wonderful." she said, a smile on her lips. "How about you come back tomorrow?"

"Sure." I said, returning the smile.

She clapped her hands together and pulled out a ten. "I thought it was five an hour?" I asked, looking at the money.

"For today I'll give you ten for what you did."

I smiled, and bowed my head. "Thank you so much."

The lady shook her head. "It's my pleasure. It was wonderful listening to you play."

"Thanks."

She walked off and I looked at my sitar case. I'd leave it there till I was ready to leave, and I wasn't quite ready to. I looked at a head of slate-grey hair and grinned, making my way over to the table. "Hey Zexion." The boy looked up at me and smiled.

"Hey Demyx."

I state down across from him, pulling the ten from my pocket. "Here."

Zexion glanced at it. "It's too much."

"Just take it." I insisted, but he shook his head.

"How about you pay me back when you have the exact amount?"

I could tell he was stalling, not wanting to just accept the money. "Come on, just take it."

"It your money." he pointed out.

I nodded. "Yes, and I'm giving it to you."

Zexion looked at me, grey eyes full of emotion. "Just, stop it. You don't owe me any freakin money."

I was shocked at his little outburst, but that didn't stop me. "Please, take it." My eyes were on the brink of watering. I didn't understand why he had to be so stubborn in accepting money for his coffee.

"If you want to pay me back, figure out how to do it not involving money, please?" Zexion asked, and I nodded my head, wiping my eyes. Zexion looked alarmed. "Are you alright? I didn't upset you badly did I?" he seemed genuinely worried. I shook my head.

"I'm fine. I just don't understand why you won't accept the money."

Zexion sighed. "Because it's partly my fault. I was spacing out and I should have been paying attention to where I was walking."

I nodded. "Alright, but I'm still going to figure out some way to pay you back."

"That doesn't involve money?"

"Yeah." I looked out the front window, watching the people walking the streets huddling under umbrellas or rushing into stores to escape the cold.

"Hey Demyx."

"Yeah?" I asked, turning back to Zexion. He crackled his knuckles and looked at the table.

"How old are you?"

I laughed, wondering how awkward that question was for Zexion to ask. "Twenty-three." I replied. He gasped and looked me over, probably trying to figure out how I could look so young.

"You look like you're still in high school." he said, "Like, a junior or something."

"Or something?" I laughed and his face turned red. "Alright. How old are you?" I asked him.

"Eighteen." I heard him mumbled.

I chuckled. "Not bad. Just graduate?"

"No. I graduated a year early."

"Smarty-pants, huh?"

Zexion chuckled, looking back up. "You could say that."

"So there's another side to the story than what it seems?"

Zexion sighed. "I really don't want to tell it."

"Then don't. I don't care really."

Zexion blinked. "Really? Usually people make me tell them."

I shrugged. "Well I'm not 'people'. I'm Demyx."

Zexion chuckled again. "I guess I could tell you. It's a long story though."

"I've got time."

Zexion's POV

I pinched the bridge of my nose, gathering enough of my energy to tell Demyx my story. "When I was younger my parents were the best parents around. I lived in a large house, and you could say I was spoiled beyond belief. All of my friends wanted to come over to hang out. Well, around the time I was ten, things changed. We lost our home and everything in it. I never got the full story from my mom how it happened, but it did, and we were thrown to the streets. My parents tried their best to get jobs again, but they couldn't. Suddenly there were drugs and alcohol involved by the time I was twelve. My parents tried to get me to join them, but I constantly refused. I started working at fourteen, deciding I didn't want to live this kind of life, and saved up enough money to take extra classes to graduate early. I graduated as soon as I turned seventeen, and planned to run away. But now that I can't, I don't have the guts to do so."

I looked up at Demyx and he was staring intently at me.

"That seemed way too short." He commented.

I stared at him. "Huh?"

He grabbed my wrist again and watched my expression. I winced and that was all he needed. Demyx pulled up my sleeve and gaped at the bandages wrapped around my wrist. He pulled up the other sleeve and sat back when he noticed that wrist was wrapped in bandages too. "It's that bad?" he whispered, and it was hard to for me to hear, but I got it. I pulled my sleeves back down, averting my eyes.

"Yeah." I turned around and pulled up the back of my shirt quickly, wondering why I was doing this. Demyx gasped and I pulled my shirt back down. Black and blue bruises covered the whole of my back, and there were fingernail scratches down my side. I crossed my arms and leaned back, wincing a bit. "My dad's ruthless when he's drunk and its worse when he's drunk and high. Mom's okay sometimes, but…" I trailed off and I could tell Demyx was concerned.

"But what?" he asked, and I wished he hadn't.

"Demyx, I'm not a virgin anymore, and my parents had to do with that." I mumbled, trying not to say it too loud.

Demyx's eyes shot open and he stared at me across the table. "When…?"

I sighed. "I was sixteen. They threatened to kill me. I'm just glad I didn't get anything from them."

I could tell Demyx was stunned, and it showed as he turned to look outside.

"Well, if it matters, I'm not a virgin anymore either. And it wasn't taken consensually." I heard him mutter. I raised an eyebrow.

"Living on the streets is a hard thing. Be glad you've got somewhat of a roof over your head." I shook my head.

"What happened?"

"I'm a high school dropout, soon as I turned sixteen I was out of there. My parents were terrible. They ignored me, worked all day, slept all night. I ran off soon as I could. I could play my sitar, and figured I could make it on that. It was my third day on the streets when I was grabbed and raped by some drunk guys. Gangbanged, you could say. I'm lucky not to have gotten anything either."

I chuckled, thinking of something really cheesy.

"What's so funny?" Demyx asked me, narrowing his eyes.

"I know how extremely out-of-context that laugh was, but I thought of something really cheesy."

"What?"

"Birds of a feather flock together."

Demyx stared at me before bursting out into laughter, and I couldn't help but laugh along with him.