This is a funny story, the way this whole thing started. At least, it's funny to me. My ex said he missed it when I wrote happy things. So, here's my best shot. It's not happy now, but it'll get there, trust me!

Plot-line: Vincent's finally got everything he's ever wanted, but now he realizes that being a rocker isn't worth anything without his star. And when she shoots across his skyline again, will he chase after her one last time? - AU -

Yeahh, kinda corny, I know. *shrug*

Sorry if these guys go through some major OOC-ness, it's just the way I felt like writing...

**Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII, Advent Children, or Dirge of Cerberus. I'm just a fangirl, really. So pleasepleaseplease, don't sue me for things I've never claimed to own.**

Rated M for suggestive-ness and Vincent's good looks..drool-worthy good looks...

Review = love and supercookies for all!

He paced across a small expanse of dimmed stage, feeling like a caged animal as he stared down at his shitty sneakers in mid-thought. It was a crazy thought, thinking that she was out there, thinking that she'd be seeing those shitty sneakers in a couple minutes. The same she who'd stolen his heart when he didn't think he'd had a heart left to steal, the same she who'd taught him how to strum a chord, the same she who'd given him a breath of life when he hadn't wanted to take another breath on this earth.

This was stupid. He was a goddamn rockstar, for crying out loud! He'd had thousands screaming his name every night he'd been on tour. But this girl, the thought of this one girl, made him lose his cool, his marbles, his sense of self. To put it lightly, she made him look like some indie kid at a screamo concert. Lost, dumb.

And all the memories came flooding back when he turned away from the house lights, when he stared out into the impressionable dark. The monsters of their past reared ugly heads, stomped on their dreams, shattered their future.

No, wait.

She'd done that.

The anger made him pace a little faster, made his mind race with childish thoughts of payback, of revenge. Wasn't he over her and her shit? Wasn't he past his own immaturity, hadn't he forgiven himself for his own selfishness?

No, he thought as he ran a hand through hair that'd gotten too long for his liking. But it'd been what she'd liked, and if he was being honest he'd stuck with the style in the hopes that she'd be one of those thousands screaming his name, that she'd see him singing his heart out, up there. And for what, for who? For a ghost who wasn't coming back, for a girl who was too good to be his own. And now, and now she had the nerve to come crawling back? Even if it was for the music, even if it was for the cheap drinks. Why the hell did she have to come back now, when everything was just starting to blur again?

Why couldn't she just stay in his past, in the deepest, darkest corners of it? Why'd this girl have to come slithering back out now, tempting him with shadowed eyes and sun-kissed skin?

"Vince?"

A hand clamped down on his shoulder, made him jump in the dark. He'd been pacing across the floor for longer than he'd thought. Even the clock's incessant ticking had sounded far away when he'd been brooding about her. He could feel the sweat beading in his hair, feel it dripping down his forehead like blood-

When the hell did I become so damn morbid?

He didn't like it, took the bottle of water Cloud offered in hopes it'd wake him up.

"Thanks, man," Unscrewed the top off, tilted his head back, and let the water drench his face like summer rain.

His bassist/best friend took a step back, looked at him with a worried edge in his electric-blue eyes. "You drunk yet?"

Vince shook his head, laughed a humorless laugh. "Nah, I wanna remember this show."

Cloud shrugged, clamped him on the shoulder again. "Your call, dude. We still doin' Blink-182?"

He laughed again, wiped off the water droplets. "Yeah, I'm in one of those moods again…" He trailed off, went back to staring into the darkness.

"So you know she's here?"

Cloud didn't say her name. He didn't need to.

"Yeah, I do."

"I woulda told you, but I thought-"

Vince put up a hand for him to stop talking, and then the bartender was waving them on, into the limelight.

...

"We're gonna do something a little different tonight," Vince breathed into the mic, smiling at a crowd rapt with attention, intoxication. "And play a pretty-damn sweet track by Blink."

Cloud started strumming the intro, let Vince take the lead with a melody he knew all too well. It was all he'd played for two months straight because it was the only damn thing he could still do with an ever-present hangover. The familiar ache in Vince's fingers felt good, felt like something real.

"I'm sick…of always hearing…all the sad songs on the radio!" He looked out into the crowd, found her face on every pretty girl in the place. "All day, it is there to remind…an oversensitive guy, that's he's lost and alone! Yeah."

He and Cloud went back to strumming for a couple beats, and then Vince took the mic again, murmuring, "I hate…our favorite restaurant, our favorite movie, our favorite show!" He hoped she could hear the anger in his voice, hoped she liked the bitter tone of it. "We would...stay up all through the night; we would laugh and get high, and never answer the phone!" He laughed a little at the sheer irony of it. The getting high part was all based off each other's presence, which had been an intoxication just waiting to happen. And it did, it did…

So maybe that's why I'm so damned empty now…He thought as he kept singing, as the memories kept flooding back. "I, can't forgive, can't forget, can't give in! What went wrong, 'cause you said this was right!" And his eyes connected with her own, haunting shades of deep grays and violets that never failed to captivate him until this very moment.

He sang the next line to her retreating silhouette, watching her hips sway as she ripped open the door.

"You fucked up my life."

She seemed to linger at the door, the way she'd done two years ago at their apartment. But by the time the next verse rolled around and a waterfall of angst-driven lyrics spilled out from between his teeth, she'd walked out again. But he kept on singing to her, the only girl he had eyes for, the girl who'd never really left his head.

The room spun in a haze of caged emotions he was just starting to release. He looked up at the crowd, really looked at them, unveiled the walls behind his eyes and let them see the pain, there. The hurt, the rage. She was the one who'd left him again, even if it wasn't directly. And the crowd was the only one listening to his sorrows, but still he sang to the pixie-chick who never gave back his fucked-up, monster's heart.

...

"Vince," A voice breathed, shook his daydreams into submission. And he inhaled, coughed on the hazy air that smelled like smoke and coffee..

"Vince," A shock of blond hair and electric eyes swam in front of him, like he was looking up at Cloud from underwater, or something. The latter brought up a wave of emotion he didn't really want to deal with right now, or ever, in particular.

"Time…" He put his head in his hands, feeling a subtle sob rock him along on a current of bitter realization. "All that time…it was a dream, wasn't it?"

Cloud seemed to understand the need to grieve, to release. That, and he didn't know quite exactly what Vincent was referring to, so he chose not to answer him. He was guessing it had something to do with her; most things did these days. But he didn't want to push the subject anymore than he already had tonight, so he simply sat with the guitarist; who was what some would call suffering or troubled, lost in their own creative hell. Cloud just called it depressed, plain and simple. And he didn't like it, either way.

"It was all just a damned dream!" Cloud watched in muted horror as Vincent took out his fury on the wall nearest them, clocking it with knuckles as white as the moon outside. A grim smile twisted Vincent's pale, usually-emotionless face in the presence of his own blood, like he was some kind of a-

"Masochist. You're a masochist, aren't you?"

"I know not what I am, Cloud," Vincent replied curtly, taking a long sip of red wine as though he wasn't bleeding, as though he felt no pain.

"You didn't have to punch the wall like that, you could've just wrote a song, y'know," He muttered, staring out at the window.

"Yes, Cloud, I think I know that by now," He murmured softly into his drink, and it reminded the other man of the calm before the storm.

"I've written all the words I can think to write down and still, it doesn't express the way I feel, it doesn't capture the complete and total fucking emptiness, the total pointlessness of my existence," Vincent had leaned forward in his chair and swept the hair out of his eyes, silently darling Cloud to deny the truth that smoldered, there.

"You're not a waste of a life, you know that," Cloud said to Vincent's silhouette as he stalked off to the couch. Maybe dreams would lie to him, too. He didn't really mind, much, anymore. But then again, he didn't have too much of a mind left for that.

She twirled the acoustic in uncaring fingers, throwing him a wicked grin as she took off through the park.

"Yuffie!" He ran after her, laughing just to laugh, laughing just because it felt so good. "Where'd you go?"

"Come find me, Valentine!"

They darted through the trees like it was some sort of dance, and he didn't quite know the steps but he didn't mind learning. Didn't mind that she'd taken the lead.. And even though he didn't really know where she was headed, the thought of where she was taking them was exhilarating in and of itself. The light was softer here, under the cherry blossom trees, the air around them was easier to breathe. And breath came easy, when he was with her.

It all came so easy, when he was with her…

"Found you," He whispered, snaking strong arms around her hips and daring to pull her closer than they'd ever been. And to his delight, she shivered at his breath in her ear, leaned against him like she'd forgotten how to stand. Their hearts could've been butterflies, beating in time to the same rhythm, the same soft song. And as their lips met, the song became something of a symphony, harmonized and perfectly in synch. He dared take the lead this time, gently backing her up against a tree…their tree…

"You taste like cherries or something…" He murmured in wonder, running a calloused finger across her lips. She shivered again, drew him closer.

"Hey, wait a sec. What about my guitar?"

She grinned wickedly again, looked up at him with sleepy, mischievous eyes. "What about my lips? They're lonely over here…"

"Well let me fix that, Miss Kisaragi. It'd be my pleasure."

"Pleasure's all mine, Mr. Valentine…" She whispered, leaning her head back so he'd have to lean closer. And as their song started up again, so did the wind. It scattered the lyrics he'd written down, the pieces of his heart he'd finally found with-

"Yuffie!" He breathed her name to an empty room, felt the weight of her absence sink into him, voice low and breathless from kisses he'd never been able to forget.

Simply because he just couldn't regret her, simply because he refused to forget her.

So? Whatcha think?

I tried my very bestest and I hope it's good enough for you guys. Lemme just tell you, all your little favs/reviews make my life. And if you wondering about the "supercookie" thing, it's an inside joke with my best friend. It's just a colassal cookie about as big your head, in theory. :)

Anyway! I should probably mention this before I get in trouble: **I do NOT own "What Went Wrong?", it's a song I totally didn't write cause I'm not a part of Blink-182! Just one of their fangirls, so it'd be nice if you didn't sue me. Thanks.**

Next chapter will be up as soon as life stops getting in the way. (Man, I cannot w a i t for school to get out!)

Review = supercookiesss! (And love.)