Love.
When you are sixteen the word has no meaning. You spend your time trying to give it one, between school and hours at the arcade. There are stories galore about it, but they hold no real answers. The tales all have joy and pain, happiness and sadness, humor, and occasionally even death. Some of them have more than just these things. Some of them have less.
Still, none of those things equate to love. There is no set formula to create it with, despite a rumor you've heard somewhere that bio-chemically love is no different than chocolate.
Was it perhaps that the feeling of love was no different than eating massive amounts of chocolate? With all the bits and pieces of information that can be filed under 'love', it's hard to remember.
The people around you don't really seem to know what love is either, and are just as busy assigning it a meaning. More often than not, they wield it like some sort of bargaining chip in a game you don't quite understand. There are those who would kill for love, and there are those who would die for it. You know people who belong to each category, you hear them talk about it all the time.
At least, it seems like all the time. Breaks from that never ending quest to find love seem few and far between. Just when you've noticed a pleasant lull in the madness, it rears its head again.
Really, at times, it's beyond frustrating if only because you aren't entirely certain that you want it to begin with. How can you truly desire something you have no idea about? Perhaps the fault of it lies in how many types of it there are. There is the love of friends, the love of family, the love of brothers, the love of sisters..
There is a love that burns, and a love that fades. Love that lasts until death, and love that continues into the great forever. There is love that is selfish, and love that blinds. You have heard that there is even a love that kills.
Love seems.. extreme. You have to wonder then, if its presence would make any difference in your life. They say, it turns everything around, but the mad whirl has never really stopped for you anyway, you just don't see how it could get any better or worse. In the end, you have to wonder if Love is really as big as it seems.
In high school, love is something promised in order to get sex. Which again makes you wonder about it. It's back to being that bargaining chip in a game played between boys and girls. And boys and boys, and even better sometimes, between girls and girls.
Ultimately though, sex is easier to understand. Sex is as simple as you make it. Not quite easy to get, at least not in high school.. not for you.. But easier than love.
Sex is seen in the pornographic tapes your best friend lends you, because you'd never be able to acquire them on your own. It's played over and over in your mind, one hand shoved down the front of your pants, eyes shut and teeth gritted. You think, sex has less to do with poems and gifts, and more to do with desire. It's a desperate longing deep in your belly, it's the want of warm skin against your own, endless curves under your hands. You think, but you don't know.
You don't know, because you've never had it. Never had the desires fulfilled outside of half remembered dreams that make you wake flushed and breathing heavily. Sex is still easier though, because you know what you want from it.
You want it all. You want them all. In your mind, you've taken them each to bed at least once, your friends. It's a cause for insecurity, being that desperate, but you're familiar enough with that anyway. It's not like they know it. Not like they'll ever find out that you're so full of want you'd take any sort of touch anywhere you could get it. Boy, girl, man, woman. It's not the package that matters. Not really, if it's real and solid, willingly there with you.
You suppose though that balance is key. All of the adventures you've been on so far have taught you this. Too much of anything is bad. You don't know how that applies to love, but too much sex would make a person an addict, a freak, and possibly a dead person, if they're not safe.
At sixteen, safety comes in the form of bad timing.
"Really? Uh, thanks.." Fielding compliments has never been your forte`. You know what it is like to be a fan and you're endlessly more comfortable in that role than in the role of the celebrity. In an old shoe box held together by tape you have ticket stubs to countless gaming events you've been to. Before you were the one that everyone came to see, back when you were just a face in the crowd. It's different now that that's changed. You're no longer the one happily reciting how many duels you've followed, and what your biggest inspiration is. You're the one listening to a bubbly blonde tell how many of your pictures are up on her wall.
Jounouchi is envious, but that doesn't stop him from grinning at you, winking and nudging you with his elbow before conveniently leaving you alone with your fan. As alone as you can be at the party/press conference for the latest gaming event to come to Domino. You figure, this is it. A chance to poke around and find out about love and sex. You've watched the typical courting ritual between Teenage Boy and Teenage Girl enough to be able to give it a try for yourself. At least, that's the plan until you see a certain blue-eyed school mate heading your way. It's just the way he's walking.. the look in his eyes.. that tells you this is going to end badly. So you look for a quick getaway, hoping you'll only be followed by your fan, and not by an angry CEO.
Apparently though, Kaiba has added 'Mindreader' to his resume, because he calls you out, stilling your feet with just his voice. A quick peek at the blonde next to you lets you know she is enjoying this a little too much. You figure, if you were in her spot, you'd be enjoying it too and wonder if she'd like to duel Kaiba while you shuffle off somewhere.
By then, time is up. Kaiba has issued his challenge, while you listened to his voice but not really his words. The cameras are all on you two now, and the crowd that had been milling about has fallen silent, save for a reporter or five, that whisper a play by play of your reaction. With so many eyes on you, there's no way you can say no. So, you say yes, smiling weakly, and hoping it'll be over quick.
To anyone else, this would be the perfect opportunity to posture a bit. It's a chance to show off, and impress the fans, especially the ones you might talk into a make out session in some dark corner. To you, it's the opposite. You're going to duel, and you're most likely going to win. Then, you'll be seeking the quickest ride home, so you can crawl into bed and wish away the stomachache that comes from dueling Kaiba. That boy holds such a grudge.. so much resentment.. it hurts you as bad as it hurts him, because you can't think of anyone else that truly hates you like he hates you. You miss the days of Duel Monsters being just a game played for fun, rather than a game played for pride, with fragile hearts on the line. Kaiba is not supposed to take losing so personally.
So you play, this time, without the help of a handy over-confident personality within you. You're all sweet smiles, and high hopes. Hopes that you'll lose. That you won't be Game King anymore. Hope that Kaiba will finally be a friend, so you can add his number to your cell phone, talk to him every once in a while, and no longer worry that he's plotting your demise.
*
Yet another party that you're required to go, just one more on a seemingly endless list of obligations. All of them, to other people. Nothing is ever for yourself anymore, not really. You're not allowed that luxury. Those are the thoughts of one Seto Kaiba, teenager, and CEO of his own company.
Another party, another girl shoving her chest into your face, asking for a signature on her shirt.
Your blue eyes are hardly blind. You can see what she wants, more than the autograph, more than being able to say your hand was on her chest for a brief moment. You might be interested, if you were the type of person interested in tabloid scandals. You're not. The well being of your company comes before any barely-felt physical urges.
The last thing you need is for her, for anyone, to start claiming love for you. She just looks like the type that'd stand outside your gates, screaming about having your child. The thought alone makes you want to shudder, instead you just approach Yugi faster. You are a duelist above all else. No, you're a big brother first, you've got to take care of Mokuba. You are a duelist above all else, you remind the voice in the back of your head. Mokuba is fine. Mokuba will be fine no matter what, you've made sure of this in every way you could. If you were to die right then, Mokuba would be taken care of. He would have money available to him, more than any kid his age dares to dream about. He's smart, more knowledgeable on a computer than any kid has the right to be. He would be fine, and he would be fine because you're a duelist, because you've built this empire around the deck of cards you've had since before you can remember.
Really, Mokuba is a reason to duel. Your little brother is a reason to keep getting up after every loss, to keep challenging Yugi Mutou. Every duel makes the news, every game makes you that much more famous, puts that much more money in your pockets. It's all for Mokuba, your only family. It's all about being a big brother. Except, that it's really not.
You duel Yugi, and only Yugi, for purely selfish reasons. You glare his way and spit out your challenge because it satisfies something inside you, something that isn't satisfied by anything or anyone else. The smirk on your lips, the gleam in your eyes, it's he who puts them there. It's the way his emotions show, it's the heart he wears on his sleeve, things you've never managed to do well.
So you take your place across from him on the dueling platform that you've designed yourself, and you wait for the crowd to settle a bit. The opening move is his.
*
The flashes from the cameras all around the dueling arena blind you, spotting your vision, and you can't tell if that's the Dark Magician in your hand, or the Dark Magician Girl. It seems like every time your sight clears just enough for you to see, another round of pictures blind you again.
You'd like to turn and ask them all to please stop, but instead you smile politely, making them take even more pictures. Eventually, you adjust, eyes becoming accustomed to the harsh bursts of light. You play your cards, the crowd shouting their encouragements, making you wish you could put on a better show. Dueling without your other personality means dueling without pointing fingers, and shouted descriptions of your every card. You've seen first hand what cards Kaiba carries in his briefcase, he hardly needs to be told how a trap works. Still, the duel is lacking in that familiar banter between you two. Maybe that's why it seems so short. You hate it when it takes too long anyway, considering that right afterwards, you've still got to hang around, shaking hands with your rival, posing with him and answering a question or two. This time though, the tables have turned. Or, at the very least, the field has evened out between you two. If he's resentful, you are too. For once, you let him know, your smile tight as you shake his hand yet again for more pictures.
" You cockblocker. " you whisper. If he keels over from the shock of having someone other than Jounouchi say such a thing to him, you think, it'll be worth it. Funny as hell too, considering how many cameras are on you. The best part is that no one will know it's your fault. Your lips barely moved, your voice only audible to him.
*
You've given one too many statements to the press to be bothered by flashing lights. Too many hours sitting in front of computer monitors and even more hours spent fine tuning the intricate details of the microchips you work with will some day leave you blind, but in the meantime, your eyes have been trained well. So you glower across the playing field, annoyed that your rival has to squint at his cards. He's every bit as famous as you are, he should be just as used to the harsh flash of cameras, the bright lights of the arena.
Yugi's never been one who's attracted to the media though, he simply accepts their presence at the grander tournaments and carries on in much the same way that he does when they are not present. He doesn't feel the need remind the public of his countless victories in boastful speeches, he has no statements to make to the press, no challenges to issue via radio or television. A waste really, seeing as how the right manipulation of the media is quite profitable, but it's hardly the first time you've thought of him as wasteful. In the end you accept your loss as gracefully as possible, making your usual demand of another match at a later time, all the while silently blaming him for the distracting thoughts that obviously affected your game and secured him another win.
You decide, you don't want to know why he whispers what he does.
At sixteen safety comes in the form of Seto Kaiba. Eager to duel you, to get his title back, he leaves you no time to flirt and experiment.
At seventeen you're under the impression that you'll never feel safe again. The warm presence that's been a part of you for endless months is gone now and you haven't the time to worry about what girls are single in your class, or which boys have made it known that they rather like other boys better. You have more important things to worry about, like the fact that you start to be able to feel alone in the middle of a crowded room. You just know that you must be losing your mind and you worry that your friends will notice but you can't bring yourself to tell them directly, because then you'll lose them too and you know you won't survive that. Alternatively, you worry that the insanity will creep up on you and you'll do bad things to them, hurt them or worse. It's a circle with no out, a choice you can't make, because damnit you want to be selfish, you want them to stay. You want to keep what you have even though it will never make up for what you've lost.
Your whole world has been made upside down and you're floundering.
Your lucky streak is over. Before it seemed that you couldn't lose, but now all you can think is that you can't win.
Nothing is the same.