Sunsets and Sunrises

I hated sunsets. When I revealed this information to people they often found me quite odd for thinking so, for thinking that something so beautiful and calming could make me grimace and walk away from the usual scene of soft pinks oranges and reds. I really hated them. Not because I thought they looked awful or something like that, on the contrary I thought they were quite beautiful, however it was what they symbolised that made me turn away in disgust.

They symbolised the end of something.

I hated it when something wonderful like a day of drumming, guying about and generally having a laugh came to an end. Even worse it meant that I'd have to go away from him. Yet again, for another evening alone just dreaming about someone I personally felt I could not have. As the leader-sama I had to set an example didn't I? I couldn't just start my own inter band relationship. If we broke up, especially if it was an ugly break up, what would happen to the band? This band is my life and I refuse to put it on the line. So I admired the person of my deepest sensual desires from afar. Watching their cheery smile spread across their face, their deep laugh that made me want to laugh along too, those deep dark eyes that looked as if they held a million and one secrets waiting to be told to the love that entered their life for eternity.

So sunsets deeply upset me as it meant the end of another day, and made us part ways to our little homes off in different directions. I was at my little home right now. Looking out at the dreaded sunset that told me the day had once again come to a close and that he had once again returned home to the other side of town. Truth be told it wasn't a very far drive; I could even walk there if it was a nice day, although when I'm longing to see him, so much it pains me to the very core of my being, then it's a very long way indeed.

I was pretty sure he wasn't aware that I held attraction for guys. I knew he did, although I doubted very much he felt attracted to me. It wasn't that I was bad looking or anything, I was quite the opposite, I knew I was a handsome guy, it's just, I was his best friend, and I was pretty sure he didn't hold an attraction for anyone in our group, although sometimes I wondered about him and Uruha. They both spent a lot of time together after all, because they were the guitarists of our band that I held so dear to me, and sometimes I wondered if when they were practicing alone if they were really practicing. If perhaps there might be something sexual going on between the two guitarists.

Ruki knows how I feel about him. He's the only one I felt I could tell. He keeps telling me I'm being silly about the pair of them. The vocalist always insisted they weren't together, although I couldn't help feeling he felt the exact way I did and was just trying to calm me down and give me the gentle reassurance I needed to smile again like I always did.

That was me, smiley, smiley Kai. However I didn't always feel smiley. To be honest I very much felt like crap, especially when I look out my window and set my eyes on the colours which grace the skyline. Those violent reds that sank into the horizon and spread into the treacherous oranges that scattered the atmosphere and gave the whole area an ethereal glow, those ominous pinks that seemed to be laughing at every cowardice move I made, and those purples and blues that looked down at me as though I was a fool of the lowest proportion, while the stars that began to come out twinkled and winked at me, telling me to get on with it.

He liked the stars, so I tried not to hate them too much, because I knew he would be out watching them, with a cigarette probably in between his fingers, while every now and then he bring it to his lips for a drag. Those gorgeous lips that he pierced with that twisted lip ring. What I wouldn't give to kiss those lips, play with that lip ring, feel his strong arms around me. See him smile that brilliant smile for me and for only me. It was a dream and a dream alone. You always want what you can't have, and I definitely can't have him but I want him even more than my certainty that I can't have him. It may sound a bit strange, that my constant want for him is stronger than my ideals that I can't have him, and yet I haven't tried. Truth is, I'm scared to try. I've set my brain up for rejection, but not my heart. I'm not ready to get rejected not yet. Not until my heart has prepared, or I get that kick in the ass to tell me this feeling coursing through my veins is in fact a silly infatuation.

I push my self away from the window, away from the sight of the dreaded sunset and I feel myself sigh. Sunsets were horrible things that I'd rather not look at, but maybe because he loved them so much, I continued to view them, as if trying to find the beauty that he saw in them. I hated sunsets, but I really loved the sunrises that followed them. The start of something new to look forward to. The start of a long awaited day where I can see him, observe him, admire him without it being weird or uncomfortable for the guitarist.

I let myself land on my large soft bed around this time ready for sleep to overtake me and send me off into possibly another wet dream or a nightmare plagued with rejection and the end of something very important to me, so important I feel I'd die if I lost it in a way that wasn't natural to all of us. The GazettE.

I loved sunsets but not sunrises.

Sunsets calmed me, told me I had survived yet another day without doing anything stupid to embarrass myself, yet sunrises told me that I had to try and do that task all over again. I sometimes got up early to watch sunrises. Quite a weird thing to do when you hate them I'm told. The thing is I know it's a stupid thing to do, but he loves sunrises and I constantly attempt to discover what exactly he finds so awe inspiring, so fantastically beautiful about something that signified something so foreboding for me.

Every time my dark brown eyes lay their sights on the yellow and baby pinks that spread out into the sky, lining the clouds in the same colours, I felt sick in the pit of my stomach. His smiley happy face always entered my mind and I was always told by my mind that today was the day I accidentally let those words slip and feel my face go red and watch the band fall apart before my eyes. None of us wanted that, but I wanted him. Wanted him so much I felt my heart throb every time that mop of dark hair he had entered a room I was in. His laugh was infectious and his smile brightened my day even if I had previously felt shit. He was always so caring and friendly, when he first told me that he despised sunsets I wasn't sure how to react. Something that gave me so much relief gave him so much displeasure yet every sunrise he saw, his eyes lit up and a beautiful smile spread across his lips gracing all he saw with the most angelic look. He must be something from another world, an angel sent from heaven to tease me for wrong I've done. I often asked myself what I did in a past life to be subjected to this kind of torture. To have to look at what I can't have, but what I want most.

He hugged me once. On the company tour. A gentle hug, a loving hug, at least that's what I liked to believe. I'll never forget, ever forget the day I got to hug him on the stage. He spun me in his arms and I remember smiling so happily. Being so shocked that he could in fact lift me off my feet. I still relish in that feeling he gave me, that light hearted, light headed feeling that I had been touched by someone who brought happiness and a bright aura to all those around him.

I still find it strange, as I bring the cigarette in my hands to my lips once again, that someone like that could detest something as beautiful as a sunset. I often wondered why but knew better than to ask. I supposed, as I stared at the calming natural phenomenon, that he had his reasons. Perhaps they were as silly as mine for hating sunrises. He was so oblivious to the fact that he was my reason for hating them.

I loved to see him, every time I saw him smile at me and call my name it felt like I was on cloud nine, as cliché as that is. It was odd that I hated a sunrises because of him, you'd think I'd love them, but when I know how often we go out drinking, and when I know all too well that I have a horrible habit of spilling secrets that should not pass my lips, ever, when I had consumed the correct amount of alcohol. I wish I would tell him sometimes. Really I do. A weight off my shoulders and my heart. So perhaps we could forget about it and get on with our daily lives. So I wouldn't have to hate sunrises so much, perhaps, I could even grow to like them, see the beauty he sees in the colours that mock me when they shine upon my sleep induced features. Maybe, just maybe, he could even return my feelings.

Just thinking that makes me laugh at my stupidity. He has never once given any indication of being even the slightest bit bisexual let alone hold a deep attraction for anyone in the band, let alone me. In fact, the only male he lets kiss him, ever, is that soloist. He's a dear friend, really he is, but I envy him like I envy those drums he treats with so much care. Those drums who also take all his frustration. I want him to be able to talk out that frustration with me, and me alone. I want me to be the one he accepts the kiss off. Truth be told, he is the only one to ever try to kiss the young drummer I find myself infatuated with, yet I feel if I tried, I'd only be tossed aside like a used tissue.

So many nights I find my dreams, my senses filled with him. So much so I feel as though I'm suffocated in his presence. I wonder how I survive the day sometimes, when every time I get the chance to watch him, I end up undressing him with my eyes. It's not like I haven't seen his body before, after all we change in the same room, but, how I wish for that body to be writhing underneath me, calling my name, moaning my name. Just like my fantasies. I know, I'm a pervert, jerking off to the thought of one of my best friends and band mates. I told Uruha how I felt once. How much I envied the soloist, Miyavi, how strongly I felt for him, how I can barely stay in the same room as him without wanting to kiss him, hold him, and make him mine for good.

Uruha had smiled at me, ruffled my hair and told me, "You're in love with him".

It took me a few weeks to properly process this idea that maybe just maybe, I was in love with our leader-sama. After a while though, I admitted it to myself, but not to him. Sometimes Uruha will bring it up; ask me why I haven't told him yet. He says it like he knows something I don't, maybe he does, I've never asked.

I find myself lost in the colours of the sunset. If I did tell him I know, just know the band would fall apart. He would reject me, I wouldn't be able to face him for weeks and when I could, he would probably never speak to me again, for fear I might try and molest him or something of the sort. Of course I never would but the thought of running my hands of his body which was smaller than me never sounded more appealing.

With each growing day my emotions grow, and with each growth my worry increases and I become even more determined. I always tell myself that if we were to get together, I'd break him. He's so fragile and I'm not sure I know how to be careful; I've never been in a relationship where I actually felt I loved the person. Maybe that's the reason I've never told him, and never will. I'm not scared of rejection, my wounds always heal, but if I broke him, the thing most important to me, I would break the band too yes but him. Him with his gentle smile, caring attitude and positive out look towards life. My reason for living in this fucked up world. Kai.

Authors Note: This is a one shot I wrote a long time ago. It's not perfect, and there are mistakes here and there, but I thought it'd be fine to post for a first on here.