Me: Okay, so I'm doing a one-shot that may turn into a collection of one shots for kingdom hearts. This first one is Zemyx
Disclaimer: I only wish that I owned the rights to kingdom hearts.
Demyx liked to think that it was a sort of romantic notion, or classic since there wasn't anything date-like or sexual about it, that he was a wandering musician without any food in his belly and a head full of songs. Poetic, that was the word. He would fall in love with a sweet person and write love songs, and eventually end up in a small apartment with his sweetheart and make eggs, pancakes, and toast in the mornings for breakfast in a kitchen with a window and maybe a view of a park… and maybe his imagination was a bit too vivid.
"The World That Never Was, huh?" Demyx mused as he saw the name of his destination. If you could make it here, then you could have a pretty decent life, or a fantastic one depending on just how awesome you were. "Hmmm… maybe I could make a big break here." His stomach rumbled, which reminded him that he needed to find a good street corner and start earning his dinner. He walked down the streets until he found a nice café, with a pretty good flow of traffic around it, and opened his sitar case. Leaving the sitar case open for donations, he made sure his guitar was in tune and began to play. His music was pretty bright, for two reasons: People tend to like music that makes you happy and take you away from the world for a bit. You wouldn't want to be walking the streets listening to depressing songs about hunger and sorrow. Secondly, he played the happy songs for himself. He needed the moment of utter bliss that came with chords and melodies that brought forth warm rainy nights in the summer, or the sport of catching fireflies just after sunset, or even just sitting in a field under the bright sunshine. It helped him forget the bad and made life worth living. The music…
By the end of the song, he'd earned five dollars, and smiled. That was already half of dinner, and he might even earn enough for breakfast the next day, or even a night at a motel. He then began playing popular songs to draw in more crowds, starting with a popular love song, singing along since he knew all the words by heart. Another three dollars, and then…a coffee? Demyx blinked and stopped playing when a kindly old woman held a Styrofoam cup of coffee in her gloved hand out to him. He smiled brightly and took it, nodding. "Thank you very much." He told her gratefully, taking a sip. Mmmm… vanilla. She nodded and drew her shawl about her more tightly than before sitting down and closing her eyes. Demyx took another sip and continued playing, occasionally stopping for another drink.
Finally, there were no people left except for the woman, and he put the sitar away, pocketing his thirteen dollars. He'd long since finished the coffee and held his hand out to the woman.
"Would you like for me to walk you home? It's the least I can do for a kind woman like you." He said politely. She nodded and took his hand, helping herself up while using him as a support.
"Thank you dear. Your music is beautiful. Are you from around here?" She asked him, leading him in the direction of her home. Demyx shook his head.
"I just got here today. Before I got here I was at Port Royale and Tortuga, but I guess pirate hangouts aren't the best place to go to earn money, since they tend to steal whatever you earn from them." He said, chuckling nervously. Of course, he hardly thought two dollars was worth the threat of his throat being slit by one drunk in Tortuga. She gasped.
"Oh my, that sounds terrible! I can't imagine anyone stealing from a nice boy like yourself. By the way, are you staying near this part of town?" She asked, her eyebrows knit together in worry. They had reached a quaint neighborhood, the kind where houses were in soft creams and pinks and yellows, cheery despite the cold weather of winter. The woman stopped at one house and Demyx got the hint, walking her up the driveway.
"Actually, I don't have a place to stay right now. Mostly I just find a bench or someplace and sleep there till morning, then try to earn money for a motel the next day." She shook her head.
"Well there'll be none of that here. You'll catch your death of cold, now come on in; you can stay with me until you can get on your feet. I'm sure you're absolutely famished too, you're so thin. I'll have to fix that up right away." She told him, immediately asserting her authority now that she was in her own home and had obviously decided to take him in. Demyx was surprised into obedience and went inside with her, setting his sitar case down.
"Are you sure, ma'am? I don't want to cause you any problems-"
"Nonsense dear, you're too sweet for that, now just make yourself at home and I'll have dinner ready in a jiffy." She said, patting his arm before going into the kitchen and preparing a meal. Demyx smiled a little and looked around the living room. There were figurines of children and angels, ass well as a hanging clock that looked like it was a bird nest with the face of a clock fixed in the center, and a cozy little couch with an afghan draped over it, and a bookshelf that held around one-hundred or two-hundred books. In the center of the room, in front of the couch, was a coffee table with three chairs, all with cushions and lace, around it, one on each side that was unoccupied by the ouch. Everything was a light brown, or pink, or cream color, and it was so nature based and warm that Demyx immediately felt like he was visiting a relative, probably a grandma in the country that always had cookies whenever you visited and let you play in her backyard and help water her garden. Demyx sat down and just leaned back against the couch, smiling at how soft it was. He had a place to stay, and it was warm. With this in mind, he just let himself melt into the couch.
When the kind woman announced that dinner was ready, he separated himself reluctantly from the couch and went into the kitchen, sitting down with her. Shed made backed chicken and rice with a layer of cheese on top. Just looking at it made his mouth water.
"Thank you miss…" She laughed.
"Call me Winnie. Winifred is such a mouthful." She told him, beginning to eat hers. Demyx took a bite and closed his eyes, the flavor exploding on his tongue. It was the best food he'd had since he left home, after his dad had found out that he was gay.
'This is amazing, miss Winnie." He told her earnestly after swallowing, quickly taking another bite. She smiled.
"I'm glad somebody appreciates my cooking. Eat as much as you like." She told him, watching with a smile as he finished his plate and hesitantly got seconds, finishing that before sighing contentedly. She got up and set the dishes in the sink.
"Now, would you be a dear and wash the dishes?" She asked, and Demyx immediately sprang up, eager to help.
"Sure, it's the least I can do…" He said, putting away the leftovers and washing all of the dishes that were used to make and eat dinner. When he finished that, he wiped the counters, then the stove, then swept the floor. Winnie looked around in surprise.
"I've never seen this place so clean…" she said, smiling at him warmly. Demyx beamed at the compliment before a yawn escaped him. Winnie chuckled and led him up a flight of stairs to a room. "You can sleep here. It's the guest room I keep available for my grandson. He's about your age now." And just as she said it, the doorbell rang. Her eyebrows furrowed.
"I wonder who that could be…" She muttered, and Demyx put a hand on her shoulder. "I'll answer it for you, after all, you must be tired too." He offered, and went downstairs. He opened the door with a smile.
"Hello, who are you…" He asked, the smile turning to a small look of confusion when he saw a guy about his age glaring at him for no apparent reason. He had silver-blue hair and was dressed in black, carrying large books in his arms.
"What are you doing in my grandmother's house?" The male demanded bluntly.
"Zexion, I wasn't expecting you. Then again, you never do give any notice when you drop in." Winnie said, coming down the steps. "This boy is a musician, He walked me home tonight and didn't have a place to stay." Demyx smiled again, extending his hand. "My name is Demyx." He greeted, though his smile slid off again with just a few sentences from Zexion. "Grandma, why did you let someone as strange as this guy into your house? He might steal something … or infest the place with fleas."
"I don't have fleas!" Demyx replied indignantly. "And I don't steal either!" How could a nice woman like Winnie have such a mean grandson? Attractive as he was, he was a total jerk! Winnie looked between them worriedly as they ended up glaring at each other, Demyx pouting childishly.
"Really now, let's all just get some sleep…" Demyx broke the glaring contest and smiled at her. "I'll go walk you up." He offered, leading her up the stairs politely. He went back downstairs afterwards and sat down on the couch, sighing.
"So are you in it for the money or the idea of actually getting some?" A voice sneered behind him, and Demyx's eyes snapped open angrily. He turned to look at Zexion and had to fight back a snarl.
"Frankly, I don't care that you're her grandson, you're a huge prick. I wouldn't want to do something like that to her, and I'm not trying to get any money from her or anything! She offered me a place to stay and I'm thankful for that. I'll be out of her hair when I can afford a new place to stay for a bit." He told him, turning away from him and taking off his shoes. Since the jerk was here, he assumed that said jerk would take the room his grandma always kept available for him and that he'd take the couch. He used the afghan on the couch as a blanket, melting into the couch again and unaware of the other male's silent inspection of him. Then, without a word, Zexion went up to his room for the night.
The next morning, it was Demyx who woke up first. He straightened up the couch so that it looked undisturbed, then tuned his sitar and, when he heard the first signs of people waking up, he rushed into the kitchen to surprise the woman with a nice omelette. He finished the omelette and had it on a plate just as the woman walked in, looking at him in surprise.
"Oh my, I wasn't expecting for you to be up so early, it's only seven on a weekend…" She said, graciously accepting the breakfast and the glass of orange juice he poured for her.
"I'm used to getting up early so that I have time to tune my sitar and walk to stores so that I can play in front of them." He said, just as Zexion walked into the kitchen. Demyx scowled at him, but made an omelette for the jerk anyway because his grandmother was so nice. He made himself one and sat down to eat, finishing it quickly. "I'll be back later, but I need to go to the café, they might have some early birds that need a good morning song." He said cheerfully, washing his plate before grabbing his shoes, shoving them on his feet, then rushing out the door with his sitar. He had to hurry. Every dollar helped him get closer to not being a burden to the kind old woman.
When he got there, he tuned his sitar and strummed experimentally before beginning to play, closing his eyes. It started out slow, with the sunrise, but sped up as it went on so that the people who felt sluggish wouldn't be attacked by a draining melody of fast tempo, but a gradual accelerando that woke them up as the song went on. When he finished the song, he opened his eyes to see Zexion from before, watching him intently before wordlessly dropping a twenty in. Demyx was sure that it was just to get him out of the woman's house faster, but he smiled anyway.
"Thanks." He told him before continuing to play, this time a cheerful song that wasn't too fast and the notes resembled birds chirping and forest creatures waking up. After that he had three more dollars that had been dropped in, and he decided to play an old favorite by the Beatles: Here comes the sun. During that song, he earned ten more dollars. This was amazing! He could afford to treat Winnie and her son to a nice lunch as well as himself if this kept up! About an hour later, he had close to fifty dollars in all, and he was playing old favorites of his that he knew by heart… then his day turned sour.
"Demyx!" His eyes widened when he recognized the voice calling his name.
'Oh no… no not here! He couldn't have found me!' He thought frantically, seeing none other than his father. His father who knew about his homosexuality and would like nothing more than to hide him somewhere so that nobody will ever see him or know he exists because his very being is a dishonor to their family. His father who was the reason he ran away from home. HE hurriedly tried to pack up and go, but his father roughly grabbed him by the hair, pulling his head up to face him.
"You little runt! C'mon, we're going home!" He growled, roughly pulling Demyx behind him by his hair. "How dare you shame us like this. First as a fag, and now as a street musician? Have you no decency?" He asked, still purple with rage at his son. Demyx tried to wriggle out of his grip.
"Let me go! I don't want to go back!" He said, knowing that wouldn't change his father's mind, but he did manage to get free.
'Thank you silky hair.' He thought as he made a run for it, going as fast as he could to get back to his sitar case. He quickly put his sitar in and picked up the case before running as fast as he could. He had to escape his father. He kept running until he was hopelessly lost, and ended up sitting down in a dark alley. While he panted for air, he tried to figure out where he was. Of course, he'd have to leave The World That Never Was. The idea sent a pang through his chest. No more Winnie and her grandson. No more warm couches, or homey little living rooms that made him feel safe. He'd be all alone again. He was close to tears when he heard footsteps behind him.
"Who was that guy?" It was Zexion.
"… My father." Demyx replied quietly, not looking at him. "I'll have to leave now. He'll find me if I stay, and I can't go back." He said, standing, though his legs felt like jelly.
"No." He froze, turning to look out him.
"Why not? Because you don't like me? Because you think that my father knows best? Because you think gays are an abomination too? I don't want to go back to my room! I don't want to be cooped up in my room forever because my father thinks my existence is a dishonor! I left for a reason and I will never go back to that place!" He shouted, tears beginning to fall. "I need to be free of him. I need to find a safe place. A place that I can call home." He whispered.
"Then stay. I won't turn you in." Zexion said, surprising Demyx. He looked at him, frozen, before hugging him tightly.
"Thank you." He replied, closing his eyes. He followed him home, surprised that he wasn't as far from the house as he thought. His last thought as he walked into the house with zexion was 'Maybe Zexion is right: I have a home here.' It wasn't the happy ending he expected, but it was still a happy ending.
END
Okay, that's it for this one! R&R please ^^