"In the backseat of a yellow taxi
Feel your heart beat
Deception is intense...
and you think I didn't know
It's like Bombay traffic in my mind,
How can you keep up with all your lies,
And you think I didn't notice...
I said keep your enemies close and your lovers closer
I'm letting you know the show is over now
So lean in closer now...
Keep your hands upso that I can see
I think it's too late, you got the best of me
So lean in closer...
Keep your enemies close and your lovers closer
And it's toxic but you can't refuse
The first to volunteer to be abused liked this
don't act like you don't know
Were in the bedroom of your very best friend
I'm fucking guilty
I said keep your enemies close and your lovers closer
I'm letting you know the show is over now
So lean in closer now ...
Keep your hands up,so that I can see
I think it's too late, you got the best of me
So lean in closer... lean in closer...
Don't say that were something were not
If we think too much then were gonna get caught
Don't say that were something were not
The truth is maybe I wanna get caught
Keep your enemies close and your lovers closer."
Gang was too infantile a term. Maybe in the old days it would have been acceptable, but not now. They'd become widely known as the Organisation, a borderline mafia that prowled and owned the streets of Oblivion. Axel often thought it was a fitting name for their formation; they acted like they were in control of the city, and Xemnas was in control of them. He was a worthy leader, even if Axel would slit his throat with no remorse if he thought he could. He knew he'd never get even close; he'd be dead before he even realised that there was a knife in his back, courtesy of any one of his comrades. This existence was perfect for every one of these hopeless bastards, banded together through a simple need to survive in the back alleys that would sooner see them rotting than able to make something of themselves. Most were about the same age now, early to mid twenties, and had grown with Xemnas' words of hate as their only lullabies. Tossed out or orphaned from young ages, they'd become siblings in this messed up world of theirs, and they'd all become cruel and cold.
Axel was good at acting by now. He still had plenty of betrayal left in him after their twisted upbringing, and was just waiting for the right time to fuck them over. He hid airy thoughts of getting out of this place; going away to the bigger cities, or the country, and starting a life that didn't have such a sour, metallic back taste. He'd always thought he was better than this, worth something more, but the time he'd spent in the layers of smog had clouded any aspiration. He told himself he enjoyed the chase, enjoyed making sure no one took him for granted, even if it did usually end in bloodshed. He had a fair amount of his own scars from just such fights, when they'd battled to prove their right to exist to any foolish enough to cross them. He'd lost count of the amount of bones he'd broken, stitches he'd received, and time's he'd been moving on nothing more than stubborn determination.
Now he sat in his small, grimy apartment, graciously bestowed upon him by their lord and master, in a block that he owned and used to house all his puppets. Just let him think he fucking owns me, he thought again bitterly, he'll be the first I rip apart. His lips curled back from his teeth in a vicious snarl as he twisted his junk mail in his hands, slouched on a torn leather chair, knowing that for the moment the words were empty. The disfigured pizza menu fell to the floor, as he sighed and rose in a single fluid motion. He was glad for the space his own apartment provided, but it always felt tainted, like it too was sucking the life from him. He splashed his face with water, trying to wash away all thought and emotion, as he prepared for the night ahead. It was another scouting mission; hunt out and learn about any new threats in town, and assess their risk factor to Xemnas and the Organisation.
He slipped on his black trousers, freshly washed, and started to button his loose black and red shirt, covering his pale muscled torso. He checked his face in the mirror, more out of habit than actual concern for his appearance, and ruffled his red spikes into place one last time. His black tearstain tattoos stood out tonight more than even, a reminder of his initiation. He looked at his vivid green eyes with distaste, knowing they emphasised the dark circles around them, and the greying tone to his skin. It had been some time since he'd felt a good deal of sunlight on his face, what with the night shifts and the dense smog during the day, and he'd often wondered whether he'd fry if he ever got to see it again. He almost longed for it, the flames his skin might become, and deemed it a worthy end to such a cold life. Finally people would see the fire outside that still fought strong inside his mind.
He crossed his living room in three long strides, grabbing his keys and change from the side in the same breath, before leaving his front door and locking it behind him. He turned around to see Dem slouching on the banister, rolling a penny over his knuckles. His once bright blonde Mull-hawk had grown dull, just like everything else that had possessed an ounce of colour, in the years that they'd known each other. They'd come to Xemnas at the same time, picked up by Xaldin and Xigbar during the same night. They been dragged kicking and screaming to The Haunt, the night club that Xemnas owned, which also served as a base of operations. Axel remembered being quite proud of himself, and of this punky stranger, for landing a few good punches and kicks during their journey, and watching with a smug grin as blood trickled down Xigbar's face. He'd earned a solid punch to the jaw for that one, just as Dem had earned a kick in the ribs as soon as he'd been tossed to the ground in front of Xemnas's desk. That was the first night he learned that you have to give the opposition one harder than they can ever deal you, else you'll end up writhing like worms.
"Nice night for scouting; I hear every gang in town is out looking for us tonight," Dem flipped the coin into the air, caught it, and slipped inside his shirt pocket, grinning all the while, "Seems they've figured out the rota, and we're just too damn good at pissing people off."
Axel paused for a moment, considering. He about turned and unlocked his door again, striding to his bedroom in a few short seconds. Dem leaped to the door before it slammed shut.
"Aw, don't be like that! It's no fun if you're not up for it too!" His deflated frown was soon, once again, replaced by a sadistic grin when he saw Axel walking back towards him, strapping two extra knives to his wrist holsters under his shirt, as two others had no doubt been slipped into his boots.
"You've got no faith in me, you know." He tested his holsters, making sure that the knives would jump into his hands when he wanted, and reset them before locking his door for the second time. This time, when he turned round, his face had taken on a familiar expression. His mouth curled up at the sides while his hard red eyebrows slanted down, shadowing his eyes until there was almost nothing but the white and green shining eerily out. Had it been anyone but Dem in front of him, they might have run, or stepped back, or screamed as their primal instincts told them they were looking at a monster. As it was, Dem adopted a similar expression and turned to hop onto the banister, sliding down it. Axel took the stairs two at a time, adrenalin pumping at the new thrilling prospect the night ahead held. Tonight, he was going to feel alive again