Chapter 2: Running Around

When lunch time rolled around, Yukari called Miwako in desperation and told her everything that had happened that morning.

"WHAT?!" She had exclaimed. "Miwako doesn't believe it! Is he okay?"

"He's his jerky self as always," Yukari replied flatly. "I can't believe I used to date him. I can't believe I let him lay an hand on me!"

"Caroline, you know you don't mean that…"

Yukari sighed. Miwako knew her so well. "He's at the atelier, last I checked. He should be at the hospital, but he outright refuses to go. He's acting like a stupid child! So typical…" She pushed her hair behind her ear in irritation. How she wished she had a ponytail holder or something… It seemed her long locks she was popular for just wouldn't give her any peace today.

"Oh, should Miwako take off and go check on him? Miwako could just call Isabella though…"

"Don't worry about it… I'm gonna head over there now and make sure he's still alive…"

After a bit of small talk and a good-bye from each of them, Yukari set off, ready and willing to give George a good talking to. Maybe at last, she would finally win.

Right.

When she arrived at the atelier, her heart skipped a beat. To think… she'd never once stepped foot in the blue, butterfly alley. The alley where she had received her first kiss… from George.

Her face heated, and she shook herself out of her stupor. She looked down at her wedding ring as a reminder.

The door was unlocked. She yanked it open and stepped inside. "GEORGE?!" She yelled angrily, trying to mask any sort of concern she had. If George knew she gave a damn, he would end up using it to his advantage. Her heart had always been her downfall when it came to George. "Where are you?! I know you're still here!"

The bathroom door opened, and there he was, looking somewhat nervous and surprised. He was wearing a red and white turtleneck sweater, baggy jeans, and brown shoes. He also had rather large-rimmed sunglasses over his eyes.

"Yukari!" He stammered, quite startled. "W-what are you doing here?"

She crossed her arms. "You wanted so badly to see me earlier," She said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "I was curious to see if you'd realized that only a dumbass would collapse and assume he's okay."

"Were you so concerned?" He asked with a smirk, sitting down at the bar and laying his head down, though he seemed to be wide awake.

"I WASN'T CONCERNED!" She shouted, her voice faltering.

He didn't come back with a smartass response. "How long are you going to be here? I could probably cook something."

His hands were shaking…

"George?" She asked cautiously. Something was… off… She'd felt it the other day too… but it seemed more apparent now.

"I've got to finish those designs… No, no, you already finished the designs, so you have to choose the ones you want. The ones I want… Which ones do I want? How long will it take to make them? Are you going to make them by yourself? I mean, I guess I'll have Isabella's help. She can do patterns, and she's going to night classes to learn everything there is to know." He was… talking to himself? Even when yammering on to no one, he spoke very quickly. He fidgeted uncomfortably on the barstool.

He was sweaty, and Yukari couldn't help but notice that his skin had broken out around the edges of his forehead. She hadn't noticed the day before because of his headgear.

He turned suddenly and looked at her as if she'd just walked in. "Ah…" He paused, as if trying to remember what to say.

"Are you okay?" She asked, unable to mask her apprehension any longer.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine! What the fuck is everyone's problem with me? I don't have a problem. I'm completely fine. Completely and utterly fine. Everyone else has got the problems. I've got everything figured out. Absolutely everything. The fucking bastards just staring at me, thinking I'm 'too restless' or 'too pissed off'. THEY DON'T KNOW THE MEANING OF PISSED OFF!" He stood, shouting, stumbled a bit, and leaned against the pool table, using his arms in front of him as support. He was breathing rather heavily… just like yesterday.

She didn't want to set him off, so she approached and placed a calm hand on his shoulder. "George?

His eyes darted toward her quickly. "What? What, what, what?" He begged, grabbing her arm. "What do you want? Why are you here?"

He turned away, wiping his forehead with his sleeve.

She didn't want to admit it, but she was frightened. What was wrong with him?

"I…" He hesitated. "I'm sorry. I'm freaking out. I'm freaking you out. I'm sorry. Sorry." He started to pace.

"George, maybe you should lay down. You don't look like you've gotten much sleep, and maybe you'd feel better if you…"

"I'm not tired. You sound just like Isabella. Sleep, George. Eat, George. George, do this. George, do that. God dammit! She's not my mother!"

Yukari approached him and removed his sunglasses. The bags under his eyes were apparent… and his pupils were dilated.

George flung his arms around her all of a sudden, leaving her stunned. "She's not my mother, Yukari. She's not. My mother is my mother, and just because she's gone doesn't mean she can take over. It doesn't mean anyone can tell me what to do. I am a grown man, and I've got myself under control. I do!"

"George, what happened to your mother?"

He released her but said nothing. He was staring directly into her eyes. Those glassy, faux blue eyes of his… their gaze gave off the impression that he was devouring her soul. Why, even when he was falling apart, did he have that power over her?

"Yukari, I…" He started, when her cell phone began to ring.

"Moshi-moshi!" She practically shouted when she answered. That was getting way too uncomfortable…

She stepped outside to hear better.

"Yukari? Where are you?"

"Ah… Hiro! Oh, I'm just heading back to the shoot. Just finished with my lunch break! Ahahahahahaha!"

"Are you all right? You seem… jumpy."

"Oh, fine, fine! I just had a big cup of coffee! That's all, I swear!"

Lying to her husband. Now she was going to feel guilty for the rest of her life.

"Okay then… Well, I'm getting home by six tonight, and I was thinking we could go out to dinner. How about it? Maybe go dancing…" She could hear his smile.

"That sounds fantastic…" She cooed, so glad to have normalcy returning to her. When she was with Hiro, she could forget about George…

But… was it okay to forget about him? He obviously was… well, unstable. In fact, he seemed to have some mental problems (though he always had to some extent), and it might have been wise to actually talk to Hiro about it. After all, he was a psychiatrist..

"I'll be home soon," Yukari told him. "I'd better get back to work."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

On the way home, she checked back at the atelier to find George out cold on the pool table, cheeks stained with tears.

-

Hiro and Yukari probably had the most romantic night of their lives since their honeymoon. They ate at a five-star restaurant, sitting at an intimate little table and giggling. She'd worn her little black dress, and they had slow danced until there was no one left on the floor. Then, they had returned to their studio apartment and made love until Hiro fell asleep in her arms.

So… WHY CAN'T I STOP THINKING ABOUT GEORGE?! She thought violently, gripping her fists into the sheets. He must be some sort of wizard… like, Harry Potter or something… or Voldemort. I need to stop reading children's books.

She got up, wrapping her silky robe around her form and walked to the window that overlooked Tokyo in all of it's lit up glory. If she was a cigarette smoker, she would have smoked one now.

What was happening to George? He'd always been lazy and cool-headed, selfish and self-absorbed. He never really worried about what was going on around him because he figured it would all work out in the end.

And it seemed like it was… He was popular, and his debut collection was going to be shown. His world had expanded, and hands were reaching out for him from every direction… and yet, he was sitting in the corner, shying away from the hands, screaming at everyone to get away from him. Wasn't this what he always wanted?

She leaned her forehead against the glass. How the hell was she supposed to know what he wanted? George seemed like the type who changed his mind every two seconds, just to piss someone off… though, he'd always been positive about his love of fashion, about making women's clothing. It was all he really cared about. Wasn't it?

"Hey," Two arms wrapped gently around her. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," She replied softly, leaning into Hiro's shoulder. "I just can't sleep right now. I've got some things on my mind…"

"Oh? What?" He asked, taking a spot on the bed and summoning her to sit down next to him.

She couldn't really bring herself to mention George… Hiro was never the jealous type, but George was her ex, and she hadn't said anything to him about even seeing him. It was suspicious, at least, she thought it was.

"I have a friend on set," She lied. "I think… there's something wrong with him."

Hiro listened intently. Such a good husband.

"Incessant talker… well, he didn't use to be, but now he is. He never eats, never sleeps, and he's become very easily provoked… You know, kind of monster-like. Oh, and he's lost a lot of weight took, and he's collapsed once."

"That doesn't sound like a good thing… Is your friend prone to any mental problems? I mean, you know, any past medical issues, anything like that?"

"Well, I don't really know him that well…" Lie. "But I can't really think of anything."

"What about drug use? Does he seem like the type who would? Does his family have any previous history of substance abuse?"

"Well, I think his mother liked to drink, but that was about it."

Hiro sat back, thinking. "Could you bring him into my office? Maybe if I got him to talk to me, he would admit to what's wrong with him."

"Ah, I don't know if he would!" She replied, more loudly than she should have. "That is… err… I'll try, but I don't know if he'll cooperate…"

He laid down. "Try and get some sleep, Yukari. You can't carry the weight of the world on your shoulders."

She laid down next to him. Something tells me that George's world has a weight much heavier than the real one.

-

George trudged home around four in the morning after waking from a nightmare so real that for the first ten minutes he was awake, he thrashed around the atelier until he'd ripped items off walls and pushed the pool table onto its side.

He arrived by around four twenty to see a familiar car parked outside his apartment building. "Great…" He grumbled, lumbering inside and up the elevator. If only the elevator would fall… then he could die… He smacked himself to snap himself out of his suicidal thoughts. He seemed to have been having them all the way home… He'd sobbed uncontrollably the entire walk.

"God, I'm acting stupid…" He mumbled, unlocking the door and stepping in. "By the way, hello, Kaori."

And there she was, peeking up from behind the couch, obviously awakened by his quiet entrance. Her shoulder-length, chestnut hair was flying in all different directions, and her make-up had been smeared from rolling around on the couch. "GEORGE! What the hell?"

"It seems I've been hearing that a lot lately," He responded flatly, sauntering into his room and throwing himself onto his bed, face first.

"Don't go to sleep. I have to talk to you."

"It can't wait until I feel like it?" He asked, giving her a glare. "What?"

"George, you've been acting weird for a long time now, and everyone is really worried about you. Please tell me what's going on… Please…" She knelt down at the bedside, her hands clutched together in front of her, and her face down in the comforter. "Please, George."

George stared at her. "Showing a bit of emotion isn't like you," He said simply.

"You're an ass."

"I know. I don't really mind it that much…" He flipped over onto his back, looking into the ceiling like he would be lifted into it.

"Don't avoid the subject, George. It started when your mother got sick, and then when she…"

He covered his face with his hands. "Don't talk to me about her. You don't know anything, Kaori."

She sighed. "I'd know more if you'd tell me something. I don't even know what happened to your mom other than she was 'sick'. Well, now you're sick."

"You're right. I am, and I'm fine with that. What I do with my life is my business. So what if I'm different? Everyone changes."

"Except you, George. Face it, you're allergic to change. You can't stand it. You've had the same haircut all of your life, and you've been doing the same things. You're literally a child in an adult's body. The world is your playground, your girlfriends your dolls, your clothes your sidewalk chalk."

"I don't have any girlfriends…" He replied tiredly. "I don't even have friend-girls anymore. Except you and Isabella…"

Kaori paused. "You know… come to think of it, you haven't had a serious relationship since you were with Yukari." A look of confusion and then of recognition spread over her within the few moments of silence held between them. "Oh my God… you… you're still…"

"I know what you're thinking," He sighed.

"And 'I'm wrong', right?"

"I just know what you're thinking." He turned on his side, his back to her, and drifted off to sleep.

Kaori slept at his bedside the rest of the night. By morning, she was gone.

-

It was four days before Yukari had time to even focus on George. She made sure to fill up all of her time with work so she wouldn't have to. Those glassy eyes…

It was when she was on her way home that night when her cell rang. She answered, not really paying attention until the voice on the other line almost made her swerve out of control.

"Moshi-moshi."

"Yukari."

"Ah… George!"

"You're so happy to hear from me. I'm flattered."

"Screw you, George."

"Listen, I've picked out all of my designs and they're being made as we speak. I just wanted to let you know. I'd like you to find some model friends of yours to wear the clothes for me. I'm no good at deciding, and you know who you work best with. You're the star. Find your co-stars."

"George, ah, about the other day-"

"Other day? What? Oh, that's nothing. Nothing, nothing. I have to get back to work now."

"No, George, don't avoid it-"

The dead tone.

"He hung up on me!"

-

Arashi sighed dejectedly, staring at the wrecked atelier. He'd been doing all he could to put off cleaning up the destruction, but he no longer was able to. That damned George… he probably did it on purpose.

Arashi groaned, lifting the pool table off of its side and getting it back on its legs. All of his band members had shit to do, so he was stuck doing it alone. Miwako had taken Erica out to go ice skating.

"I wanted to go ice skating…" He mumbled. All he ever wanted to do now was be with Erica. She was everything in his very existence. All of the things he did when he was younger had been fun, but now they were threats. One day, she would be a teenager, and he'd be damned if she would love any man other than her papa.

He snatched some busted frames off of the ground and set them on the bar. "This is ridiculous."

The door opened, and suddenly in stepped Isabella. "Arashi!" She exclaimed excitedly and hugged him.

"I-Isabella… what the hell are you doing here?"

"Well… I just needed… a break from George…" She sighed. "I see he already reeked his havoc here. I'm so sorry."

"What, he does this all the time now?" Arashi asked in aggravation. "Somebody ought'a kick his ass."

Isabella found the broom and dustpan and began sweeping up the glass shards. She noticed a few drops of blood on a few pieces. George had at least attempted to clean it up… but it seemed like he'd panicked when he had begun to bleed.

"He doesn't seem to want anything to do with anyone anymore…" Isabella murmured. "Something has… changed him, has… warped him."

"Like George needed to be any more warped," Arashi complained.

Isabella sat down on her knees. "I just don't know what to do with him…"

Arashi turned to find her trembling. "I… Isabella…" He knelt down next to her, and she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed.

"I'm worried about him, Arashi. He won't talk to me!" She whimpered, her make-up running down her thin face, washing away Isabella and revealing Yamamoto Daisuke (though just barely).

He held her close to him, trying to be as comforting as possible, but he wasn't really sure how to do that. Even when Miwako was upset, he was very awkward with her. It had never been an emotion he'd been able to accurately emote, sympathy… It wasn't that he was insensitive… He just didn't really know how to make it work. Maybe it was because he was a guy.

Isabella calmed down after a few minutes and exhaled to release any other bits of frustration that were still lingering. "George is out of his mind. I'm terrified to even be around him. He's come at me like he was going to fight me. He stays up for days at a time and very seldom eats. Eventually he sleeps, but when he does, he does so for days. It's during these days that he seems so depressed I'm afraid to leave because he may try to kill himself."

"That doesn't sound like George at all…" Arashi whispered. He was genuinely stunned. George? Mr. Laid-Back? Mr. Do-What-I-Want? He'd become a crazed, terrified, depressed wreck of a human being? "When did that happen?" He asked skeptically.

"Since his mother died."

Arashi fell silent. When…?

"It was about seven months ago," Isabella told him, getting back to her feet. "I had been living on my own, and she had moved in with George. He called me when it happened, screaming. I'd never heard him like that before…" She took a seat at the bar, removing her hat. "When I got there, his mother was unconscious on the floor. She was dead before the ambulance got her to the hospital. She'd had a heart attack."

"She was a little young, wasn't she?"

Isabella hesitated. "Yeah, I know…"

"Is there something that you know?"

"Well…" She pushed a purple curl behind her ear. "George was so grief-stricken that he couldn't focus on anything. I did all I could to take care of everything. I found out from her autopsy report that her heart attack was caused by an overdose."

Arashi was all-ears now. "Overdose? Overdose of what?"

"Methamphetamines, I think."

"And George was completely shaken to the core, huh?" He laid his head down on the bar. "Doesn't seem like him… and his mother was kind of a bitch, wasn't she?"

"How would you feel if your mother died, regardless of how you felt?"

Arashi sighed, easily defeated. "I guess that's true."

"George had to have known she was using, since they lived together. They shared a bedroom because she couldn't stand to be alone. Why didn't he stop her? That's what bothers me… It makes me think that maybe he…"

"Oh, please, as if George would do that. He's not that stupid."

-

George sat in the bathroom, back against the door. The fluorescent light s made the room seem gray. The whole world seemed gray to him…

He tightened the belt on his arm with his teeth and placed the needle to his skin in the bend of his elbow. No hesitation.

The drug flooded into his system, and the entire world became beautiful again. His eyes rolled back in his head as a wave of pleasure washed over him. He forgot everything. Anything that was bothering him, any sadness, any stress vanished. He didn't know what he was doing, and he didn't care.

After a few minutes, the surge of bliss subsided, and he just felt ready to get to work. His body was tingling all over as he hid away his supplies in his bag and stepped back into his apartment to hear a knocking on the door.

He quickly rolled down his sleeves and slipped on his sunglasses, knowing who it was, and knowing that if he didn't answer, she'd come in anyways.

"George."

The door shut behind Kaori.

He looked up, half-interested, his mouth clutching a threaded needle as he worked to put together a gown he had been working on. It was the star dress of his runway show, he had already decided. It was white and glittered with jewels, laced with silver. Only the sketch and the skeleton had been completed, but he was determined to have it finished.

Kaori sighed, watching him. "Busy, hm?"

"Hm," He replied with a nod. "Yes. Yes, I've got to get them done very quickly, very quickly, so I figured I might as well get to work, since after all, I've got to get them done soon. Did I already say that? I think I already said that. Anyways-"

"George. Listen… about… Yukari."

"What about Yukari? Do you need her number? I have her number."

"George, will you just shut up for two seconds? Look, I know that you're still into her. I talked to Isabella, and she said you've been acting crazy. You're… completely shut off from your friends, you aren't keeping up healthy habits, and you're clutching to the past like you'll fall to your death if you aren't holding onto something. George, I want to know the truth about what you're doing. You're doing something, aren't you? Something to make you ignore everything."

"Kaori, you assume you can just walk into my apartment and start telling me I have a problem?" He said with a half-hearted laugh. "I don't need anyone to tell me that I have a problem. I'm fully aware of that. However, you surely can't expect me to start spilling my guts out to you when you're butting in on my privacy- DAMMIT!" He shouted as he accidentally poked his fingers with the needle.

"George!" Kaori knelt down next to him. She noticed up close that his forehead was dotted with sweat. She placed her palm against it gently. "You're burning up. You should lay down."

He swatted her back with his arm. "I'm not fucking tired. Get out. I've got shit to do. If you haven't got anything better to do than bother me, at least be useful and help me make this damned dress."

She sighed in defeat and studied the design. Elaborate as always.

"I'll see what I can do."