Summary: Gaara is a famed songwriter everyone loves. With one pen he writes out songs, songs that people don't realise are his world. Except for one girl.

A/N: Well this is my second story on Gaara, its an AU, is completely and totally different from Naruto storyline and timeline, but the characters are in it. Hope it goes well.

A few things to address as this story will be different from the first other than the fact that it is AU.

a) I have decided not to put in any japanese words unless they are things like "Itadakmasu" or the names of the villages. This is to prevent myself from making errors in the language and prevent you from misunderstanding things. Not to mention the songs are in english so might as well put everything english.

b) It is still in the Naruto world, even though it does not follow neither the plot nore timeline. Although most fo the characters' history are intact, they have been changed to fit this AU of a modern world. Long story short: This is a modern Naruto world.

c) The songs in here definitely do not originate from Gaara or me, and I would consider writing my own lyrics, but that's too much to do, ain't it? I don't own the songs, just pretending they are Gaara's works since they reflect his life. It would be good to play the song when I say so because I wanted a sort of read and listen and actually imagine you're there kind of effect. Turn on the said music when you see the symbols "". You would notice I skipped a few lyrics because I can't expect you to pause, read what I wrote and play again. Too troublesome. So just turn on the music, soft enough so that it doesn't disturb you from reading, but loud enough so you can hear.

If there are any suggestions to make this better, please tell me!

Now that's cleared up, on with the story!

Write This

A young red head entered the world with the best and the worst things in the world. A father who could give him everything with his status, and a mother who died before he could even smile at her. His older siblings were gifted with their parents' genes, awing the world with their amazing musical abilities. His perfect sister, with a beautiful voice and talented hands, learned how to play a guitar within a month. His cool brother, superior among his peers in drums and percussion, could sense the rhythm of a song after a few beats.

But he, out matched them both, a wonder at remembering a song after the first time, from the lyrics right down to the beats of the bass. He learned the guitar and the drum within a month, and wrote his first song at age four, which was then used as an advertisement to promote his father's music industry. A child prodigy, he knew he was. But he had never realized he was a danger as well.

He never knew what the outside world was like. From his bedroom window, all he could see was the desert spread out before him like a carpet, a perfect view to have if you wanted to see the sun set. And everytime he watched the orange ball slowly descend behind the sand dunes, crystal tears would fall on his flawless skin.

He hated it. It made him feel like he had wasted another day, that he had one day less to prove to everyone that he was worth living on this Earth. One day less to be who he wanted to be and one day more being who his father wanted him to be. One day more, with no one to accompany him. One day more, with his lonely soul biting him.

The 6 year old would go through the day as a routine. Home schooled in the morning, song writing lessons in the afternoon, future plans in the night. Everyday he went through the same procedure over and over again, and everyday he could hear the sounds of children laughing, men complaining and women gossiping, just outside his house. They were living their lives exactly how they wanted, and he concluded that as envy spread its vines until it ensnared every last nerve in his body.

He remembered when his uncle helped to sneak him out on his birthday, his desire to see what the world was like finally reaching Yashamaru. It took careful planning, but it worked out in the end. While his father assumed that he was studying in his room, and the tutor waited for him to come back from his 'bathroom break', he left the house as silent as a thief, and dashed into the world with his uncle holding his hand.

For three whole hours, he wandered around until the two of them got lost. With Yashamaru, he wasn't bawling and whining for his parents, so no one took note of the young child prodigy. He enjoyed watching people walk by hurriedly or slowly, tasting food that his father often said was not 'high class' to be set on their dinner table, playing games that normal children play everyday. The boy had the best time of his life, and his smile seemed to light up even the gloomiest of shops. When a sales girl offered him a sweet, the boy accepted it like a gift from heaven. Everything was wonderful, beautiful, amazing. Even when he was kept away in his house, he knew the things about the world. However, it is a completely different story to know about it, and experience it.

And the red head loved every moment of it.

It was only when Yashamaru went to buy some chocolates for him, did the innocent child see the other side of the world, the side that the boy had tried not to believe for the last three hours. A few gangsters, some drunk with the small of alcohol and smoke lingering on their jackets and clothing, grabbed the boy and the wallet he was holding, laughing and cursing in incoherent words. He struggled so hard, trying to stop the gangsters and their burly selves from pocketing the money he still wanted to spend. The so-called adults merely chortled at his futile attempts, dropping him after they were satisfied with the amount. The boy could only watch helplessly as they walked away, leaving him in the dirt.

The child prodigy met Ichibi Shukaku only once in his life, when he was two. The unnaturally big sized man had worn a suit, and shades. He was dark, with no hair on his scalp. He had massive arms and legs, and when he smiled, you felt like it was not sincere in the slightest bit.

Yet when the boy saw him once again, standing in the alley blocking the gangsters, he remembered feeling a mix of relief and happiness. And he continued to watch with delight as Shukaku pounded the men as easily as batting a few flies away. The prodigy picked himself up as his savior finished off the last of the gangsters. He was ready to thank him profusely, when something – or someone – intervened, and started a chain of events that led the poor boy down the road he had not expected.

"Sentou? Sentou!" The child paused as he watched the sales girl from earlier rush up to one of the gangsters and examined his wounds. Then, he could only watch in horror as the teenager, with tears in her eyes, started to slap Shukaku until he was so irritated, he picked her up and threw her against the wall. The red head was frozen on the spot.

"I'm back! I got th- Shukaku-san? What are yo-"

"For risking Master Gaara's life, ya'll pay with ya own," hairs on the back of the boy's neck raised as he heard the threat made by Shukaku. His voice, low, deep and dangerous, sounded so different from the friendly, comforting voice the red head had heard when he was two.

"Gaara," the boy's head snapped up at the sound of his name, turqouise eyes widened as Shukaku's grip on Yashamaru's neck tightened. "No one, will hurt ya eva' again."

CRACK!

Yashamaru fell limp on the ground as Shukaku released his grip, and as his head rolled towards his nephew, the last words he said made Gaara cry for the last time.

"Gaara."

"Did you know why my sister named you so?"

"She gave you that name so that you could continue to exist, so that her deep hatred for people like Shukaku would continue to exist and remain."

"To let others know of it."

"You were not loved."

"I hope you die."

Gaara felt the whole world freeze. Shukaku stepped on Yashamaru's body, crushing him and silencing him forever. He was too late, however. Gaara had already been hurt, his uncles strained voice haunting his mind. Tears started to form again, but the young red head then realized the prescence of the on lookers. Shukaku glanced at them, and then at Gaara. A smirk formed and he reached up to remove his shades.

Gaara would never forget the colour of his eyes.

Shukaku's pupilss were black, with a yellow lighting in the middle. It seemed to penetrate everybody present, as he looked at everyone, an evil smirk dancing on his lips.

"LISTEN UP! T'is kid here, is Sabaku no Gaara! Mess wit' him, and ya'll will end up like these troublemakers here! Ya got that?"

Gaara could only remember the look of hatred in the sales girl's eyes as she stared at Shukaku. A word formed on her mouth, but Gaara could only hear it when she aimed at him instead.

"Monster!"

Gaara watched her repeat it over and over, even as he was dragged away by Shukaku, her reaction was the same as everyone's as they directed their hate towards him, not Shukaku.

That evening with his father was like a silent film. No words reached Gaara. He could only see the silent fury within his father's eyes, the director of the Kazekage Music Industry. He noticed the familiar looks of discontenment and anger in his siblings' stares.

But most of all, Gaara saw Shukaku's stoic expression, his eyes hidden behind his shades once more. He saw nothing, but he knew, that behind that mask, was a glee that disgusted and angered Gaara more than anything. It was his fault, Shukaku was his goddamn bodyguard since he was born, he could not escape him.

It was his fault he was alone. He took away everyone that could have been friends with Gaara. He suggested to his father that Gaara should be home schooled. He took everything Gaara wanted!

"Gaara! Listen to me! You have brought disgrace to this family!" When the words finally registered in Gaara's brain, a new anger set in.

Family? What family? All Gaara's life, he was kept away from everyone, but most of all his siblings and father. They stayed away from him, they avoided him, they ignored him. He was a child prodigy, but no one at the same time. Now with Shukaku, they hated him even more.

No one loved him. Nobody ever did. The young, innocent red head was naïve into thinking, hoping that someone did. Even his dead mother. But in reality, he was alone.

Nobody cared about Sabaku no Gaara. He was a prodigy, but also a danger as long as Shukaku was there.

Shukaku would destroy any obstacles Gaara faced, at any cost.

And everytime Gaara let him satisfy his hunger for blood, he always knew why he let him do it.

Because nobody loved Gaara.

He was alone

-
A/N: Remember to review or give me suggestions to make this better! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and stay with me for the rest! Personally I think its a great AU and I can't wait to experiment it out. Haha. Of course I won't forget about Hurting. I just thought I would FINALLY post this story up. )

-JE