Summary: What if Yuki were the rockstar? What if Shuichi were the novelist? Would the two have opposite personalities: Yuki being hyper and Shuichi being agressive? Would they meet in the same fateful way as they did that day in the park? Or, will the two forever live in ignorance of each other?

Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation or any of the songs (italicized). Gravitation belongs to Maki Murakami, the songs belong to their singers/groups/bands.

Chapter One

Another year, another best seller. Writing wasn't as easy as it seemed to be. It took time, a lot of time. Deadlines had to be met in order to speed up the publishing in order to roll in more dough for the publisher and the publishee (in this case, Shindou Shuichi, world renowned romance novelist).

For someone with such a tight schedule to get things done, Shuichi was a procrastinator. He did everything at the last minute: bathed, dressed, ate, and wrote his novels. He always wondered to himself why he was so stressed, but, nevertheless, he was blind to the fact that he had a job to do. He just shrugged his shoulders and repeated to himself, "Eh, I'll get to it later."

He spent much of his time out on the town with the ladies; going out for dinner parties, seeing shows, and back to his place for a glass of wine and an intelligent conversation about politics and the weather. He thought this impressed the ladies. He wasn't promiscuous, he preferred to really know his lady before asking for more of a commitment under the sheets. Luck wasn't on his side, though, because most of the women saw that he was neither willing nor easy, so they usually didn't ask for a third date.

Time took it's toll, though, and his mood changed drastically. He gave up on love. His novels turned from happy endings to heartwrenching unhappy endings about tears, bloodshed, and heartbreak. At least it didn't effect his income, he found himself thinking many a time. The novels seemed to be selling better than ever.

He wrote as an escape from the world, to let out all of his sorrow, frustration, sadness, and fear. Sometimes, though, he found that no matter what amount of writing he did it still didn't fill that hole in his heart. Was there no one that would accept him for him, not want him for his body or his money? He would gladly give all of that away if someone would just love him for who he was. It wasn't his fault he had the toned body of a swimmer, with a slight female-like curves for hips. It wasn't his fault he had a talent for writing books that sold.

Shuichi turned the television he was sitting in front of off and slowly walked to his room. There he collapsed on his bed, suddenly weary. He needed sleep, a good long sleep. Maybe he wouldn't wake up in the morning, maybe he wouldn't wake up ever... He found it best to not get his hopes up because nothing ever happened as he wanted it to.

He layed there and stared at the ceiling, his mind wandering of all the couples he had seen throughout his life and how happy they appeared to be. They all seemed so carefree and in love. He wondered what being in love felt like. Was it like that burning sensation in the pit of your stomach, like he described in his books? Did falling in love make your heart pump faster and faster..so fast you lose your breath?

He thought about the concert he was going to see the next day. Bad Luck was the name of the band. They were new, but the news of them was spreading like the plague. Shuichi figured he should check them out, for he had nothing better to do. He purchased the tickets, but didn't bother to buy the album. There was no point to it, he was sure he wouldn't listen to them after the concert. He loved music, but there wasn't much that pleased his ears. He wanted music that really came from the heart, that really came from the depths of the soul...that was the singer's own personal feelings, not from what they have heard or heard said. He wanted art...he wanted to feel his pain through the music.

He had to face the facts...he was lonely. He still spent much of his time out on the town, but this time...he was alone going to dinner, seeing shows, and back to his place for a glass of wine and an intelligent conversation about being loveless and a fool for ever trying.

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This world will never be what I expected

And, if I don't belong who would have guessed it?

I will not leave alone everything that I own

To make you feel like it's not too late, it's never too late

Yuki Eiri growled to himself. Another demo, another top selling album. Being a music artist definately had it's downside. There was the lyrics that had to be written, music that had to be arranged, lyrics that had to be sung with the music, recorded, handed to the producer, and aired on the radio. From then on, it was up to the fans to decide whether it's good or not, which would mean a lot of money for the record company, or not a lot of money for the record company and then get dropped. The fear of losing the job was what kept Yuki on the edge.

Even if I say it'll be alright

Still I hear you say you want to end your life

Now and again we try to just stay alive

Maybe we'll turn it around, 'cuz it's not too late, it's never too late

Yuki put down his pen in frustration. He didn't know how much more he could take. He loved his job, he had been aspiring to be a singer since he was young, but when one ran out of ideas it was frustrating. He looked down at what he had written so far. He thought it was okay, he would have to run it through his bandmates. He put the paper down and walked out of his study where he did most of his lyrics, through the hallway, to the living room, and into the kitchen to grab a beer out of the refrigerator.

He wasn't happy. It wasn't his job or his money that made him unhappy, it was his life in general. He gave up his godforsaken family to work with NG Studios and become the lead singer of Bad Luck with his best friend Nakano Hiroshi. He was more than happy than to leave them behind. With his family he couldn't even breathe without doing something wrong. His love life sucked, too. Sure, he could pick up pretty much any woman he wanted to off the street, give her a good fuck and let her go, but it didn't give him as much pleasure as he thought it would. He kept doing it, though, in hopes that maybe it would fill the gap in his heart.

He didn't believe in long term relationships anymore. He didn't really believe in much, to be frank. He hated the prospect of having a significant other. He had a few and they turned out like shit, usually ending up with the girl cheating on him for some unknown reason. It made him feel worthless. He thought his looks could kill, strike the heart of any woman he met, but apparently not all women are as naive as he thought. Maybe he was the naive one. He just shrugged it off, lit up a smoke, and went back to his lyrics. That's all he ever did away from the studio. He didn't have anyone, no one but Hiroshi.

This world will never see the side reflected

And, if there's something wrong who would have guessed it?

I have left alone everything that I own

To make you feel like it's not too late, it's never to late

It would take some kind of a miracle to take away the pain he felt. He watched people go by, especially couples that were holding hands and whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears. It sent him on a wave of jealousy, anger for being jealous, and then an overall feeling sorry for himself for not allowing himself to want what they had. He poured himself into his lyrics, but even they didn't heal him. He longed for the thing he hated the most: a relationship.

Even if I say it will be alright

Still I hear you say you want to end your life

Now and again we try to just stay alive

Maybe we'll turn it around, 'cuz it's not too late, it's never too late

The world we knew won't come back

Time we've lost can't get back

The life we had won't be ours again

This world will never be what I expected

And if there's something wrong...

Even if I say it'll be alright

Still I hear you say you want to end your life

Now and again we try to just stay alive

Maybe we'll turn it around, 'cuz it's not too late, it's never too late

It's not too late, it's never too late

Yuki returned to his study, scribbled down the rest of the words he thought would go well with the song, and stuffed the paper into the bag lying beside him. There was time for revisions the next day. At that moment, he wanted to lie down, because he wasn't so sure if he could get back up in the morning..