Chapter One

Yugi blearily opened his eyes to the sound of the alarm clock buzzing; he honestly hated that noise more than any other. He stretched, trying to force his body to function at the ungodly hour of five in the morning.

While stretching, Yugi's fist lightly grazed Yami's arm. The rest of Yami was curled up near the edge of the bed, his eyes still closed in peace. Yugi stopped stretching so that he could turn off the alarm clock; he didn't want to have to wake Yami up at such an hour, especially when he wasn't being hindered by the nightmares of his past.

Lying back down on the bed for a minute, Yugi's thoughts traveled to the guitarist that was lying next to him. Yugi wasn't a big part of Yami's recovery anymore; that both made Yugi proud of his boyfriend and a little sad for himself. After all, the only reason that Yugi couldn't help Yami anymore was because he was almost always at either school or work.

Beginning to stretch again, Yugi breathed deeply. Yami was definitely recovering, though, that was evident in his speech and his smiles and his appetite. Between his own sessions of thought and his meetings with his therapist, Yami was beginning to right the thoughts in his head and remember that not everything was his fault.

Even though the scars on his stomach and face would never fade, hopefully the memories would. Yugi wondered if it was too much to ask.

The student didn't realize that he had closed his eyes until a soft hand began to stroke his hair. Surprised, Yugi jumped a little and opened his eyes again. Yami laughed a little bit beside him, "I didn't mean to scare you."

Yugi turned onto his side to face the other, "No it's okay. I was only thinking."

"About?" Yami probed sleepily, still smiling a little. Yugi noticed a shadow behind his eyes. It almost never went away.

Yugi smiled too, "You."

"I'm flattered," Yami said honestly. He began to stretch a little as well. After a short moment of silent he began to talk again, "What's on the schedule for today?"

Yugi creased his eyebrows slightly, trying to think, "What day is it?"

"Tuesday," Yami said, yawning a little. He covered his mouth with a clenched fist.

"Oh," Yugi said. He was hoping that it was at least Wednesday. His weeks seemed to be getting longer and longer since school started about a month ago. He blinked, getting his day into order, "I'm going to get to the library early to finish up some work, then classes until midday and work after that."

Yami's face never fell when Yugi spoke of a full day without him, but the smaller knew that he was missed while he was away. Yugi wished that there was something that he could do about it, but there really wasn't anything.

"Another full day," The guitarist commented a little dryly. He rubbed some sleep out of his beautiful red eyes, "I don't think that I would be able to keep up with all of that," He said, shifting a little closer to Yugi, "I don't know how you do it."

Yugi smiled a little at the praise and his lips briefly met Yami's, "Neither do I."

"What time are you getting out of work?" Yami asked after a minute. He nestled a little deeper under the blankets, probably feeling cold. It was late October and the mornings were starting to feel a little brisk.

"Nine, I think," Yugi said. He wasn't sure if Yami asked these questions for his benefit or for Yugi's own. "I'll probably be home around nine-thirty, depending on what time Kaiba finally decides to close down."

"Okay," Yami said, stretching a final time before attempting to sit up; he failed and flopped lazily back down onto the bed. "I'll be here," he yawned.

Yugi sighed and slipped out of bed. He ran his fingers through Yami's hair, "Go back to sleep, Yami. You look exhausted." He kissed his boyfriend again on the forehead.

"Just for a minute," Yami said with his eyes closed, "I want to see you off before you leave."

Yugi smiled as he left the room, not answering Yami. He knew that the other was probably already sleeping again.

Yami shivered and zippered up his coat as he walked down the street with his guitar slung on his back. It was sunny out, but the wind was blowing all of the warmth out of New York City. Yami blew shaky air out of his mouth and dug his hands into his pockets. His loose bangs were being thrown all around his face.

It was late Tuesday morning and the guitarist was heading to The Curse to rehearse with Zach and Jullian. Zach had promised a new song for that day's rehearsal, and Yami was quite excited. He liked to play new music, because he never knew what was going to be thrown at him. He liked the surprise.

Pulling his key out of his pocket, Yami unlocked the doors of the nightclub. He was usually the first person to rehearsal, so he was given the key. Yami liked to warm up alone because he was free to make mistakes and to think. He didn't like thinking in front of other people because he always brought himself into a daze and he always felt embarrassed when someone else had to bring him out of it. He didn't like to make mistakes in front of other people because with mistakes came the prospect of punishment.

Yami didn't like punishment.

Walking down into the basement Yami flicked on all of the lights. The club was the same as it ever was, with small tables all around the spacious dance floor and a stage on one end of the room. All of the chairs were sitting on the tables; a clean-up crew came to the club on Sundays to pick up after the mess that always loomed after Saturday night.

Yami hadn't been to one of the dances at The Curse in quite a long time; he didn't know how long it had been. He missed it; he missed the crowds and the people cheering. He missed the crowds of people that came to see him play and the sounds of people clapping for him and his band.

Yami wondered if his longing for the night life was enough to make him come back again. He wondered if he'd feel the same way once he stepped onto that stage over a hundred people. He wondered if it would hurt.

Taking one of the chairs off of a table Yami sat down and began to unpack his guitar; it was black, the same one that Yami had been using since his days at Julliard. Sure, he had picked up and dropped off a few other guitars since then, but this one was Yami's favorite. This one felt the best.

Wrapping the shoulder strap around himself, Yami placed his fingers in the appropriate places and played a simple G chord. He liked how the sounds vibrated off of each other, the sine waves peaking at just the right spots to create the pleasing sound.

His heart rate suddenly picked up. Yami hadn't felt that way in a long time. His guitar hadn't made him feel that good in a while. He began to pluck the strings in a different order, then moved his fingers to create a C chord. He plucked the strings in the same order.

Hearing an invisible beat inside of his head, Yami started to play exactly what he wanted to, even though he had never played it before. In his head he was numbly aware that he hadn't been able to play from his heart and head in a long time, but he was too into his own music to notice it much. He moved his fingers up and down his guitar fluidly, just enjoying the sounds that were coming out of his instrument.

He sighed and closed his eyes, honestly enjoying himself.

A door slammed somewhere; it sounded like a shot.

Unable to stop himself, Yami cried out and his entire body shuddered. He felt like he couldn't breathe; underneath his shirt his long-healed scar began to pulse. He began to get a headache.

"It's just a door slamming," Yami whispered to himself out loud. It's just a door. It's just Jullian and Zach coming to rehearsal, that's all.

"Hey Yami, are you alright?" The guitarist heard Jullian's voice from across the room. He didn't open his eyes, still trying to calm himself down. He felt a little sick. Yami hated these episodes; they came every time somebody made a loud, unexpected noise. Everything sounded like a door slamming or a gun shooting at something. Everything sounded like a harsh yell coming only for him.

Maybe Yami didn't like surprises so much after all.

"Yami?" The voice was closer now. Yami blearily opened his eyes to find Jullian's face about a foot away from his, "Hey, what's up? We heard you playing from upstairs, you sounded great. What happened?"

"Nothing," Yami said quickly. He knew that neither of the boys would believe that, but he had never talked explicitly about his personal life before; he wasn't sure that today would be the best day to start, either. "I'm fine. The door slamming just scared me a little."

"That was my fault," Zach piped in from behind Jullian. He was rubbing the back of his head and averting his eyes, "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine," Yami said, not looking at either one of them. He hated how he reacted to the simplest of noises. Even more than that, he hated the sympathy that he was getting from his band mates. It wasn't like he wasn't appreciative of their concern for him, no, that wasn't it. He supposed that he just wanted everyone to forget about what Ryan had done to him.

Maybe if everyone else forgot then Yami could, too.

"You sure?" Jullian began, "Because if not we can--"

"No," Yami said strongly, standing up from his chair. He was hoping that he was the only one that noticed how badly his hands were shaking. "I'm fine. Let's just start rehearsal." Ryan had stopped Yami from having a good time on stage for almost an entire year. He wasn't going to let him do it any longer.

The mood for the first fifteen minutes of practice was rather tense. Yami and Zach tuned while Jullian fooled around on the drum set for a while. After that they warmed-up with a couple of songs that they had practiced a few weeks ago, and then Zach brought out a few scraps of paper that held the band's new song on it.

Yami halfheartedly took the papers that were handed to him. He didn't feel much like playing anymore, but he knew that he would feel worse than he already did if he left rehearsal early. Glancing through the lyrics and chords that went along with it, Yami noticed that there was a portion of the song marked, "Guitar solo."

"There's a guitar solo in here," Yami remarked, looking up at Zach. His voice was rather flat.

"Yeah, I thought that the song called for one," Zach said. "I thought that you'd like one since we haven't done anything like that in a while."

Yami nodded, "Sure."

That was the one major downfall of not sharing his personal life with Zach and Jullian; neither of them knew how he really felt. They knew that he was spooked easily and that he was still recovering from the trauma that took place in this very nightclub, but that was about where it ended.

Because Yami didn't want to talk to Jullian and Zach about Ryan and his problems with him, the guitarist was extremely grateful that both of the boys inferred that Yami wouldn't be able to write songs anymore; he doubted that he would have been able to tell them himself. It would have felt like admitting his defeat.

Yami couldn't be upset at the fact that Zach gave him a guitar solo that he wouldn't be able to play. Even if Zach had known that Yami couldn't play on the fly since last summer, he would have guessed that Yami had healed by now. Who knew...maybe Yami should have been healed.

"--try it out?"

Yami shook his head and pulled himself out of his thoughts, "What?"

Zach was slipping his guitar strap over his shoulders and getting his bass into position. He shuffled the papers on the music stand in front of him, "Do you want to try the song out? Just play the chords first, like always. We'll work in the lyrics later."

"Okay," Yami said. "Any specific strumming pattern?"

Zach blinked for a minute, thinking about the song that he had laid out in his head, "Yes." He began to tap his foot, still thinking, "Hit the root first, then strum the rest of the chord. Like this." He began to sing how he wanted it done, and Yami nodded. He liked how it sounded.

"Sure," He said, "That sounds good."

"And just go nuts on the solo," Zach continued, "I'd like it to sound frantic, but just do what you feel is right."

Yami looked at the floor, then determinedly at his music on the stand in front of him, "Right."

"Ready Jullian?" Zach called to their drummer.

"Ready."

"Okay. One, two, three, four!"

The song started off with a couple of bars by Jullian to get the tempo steady. Zach came in with a walking bass line a little later, and then Yami jumped in on top of them before melding with their song. The guitarist followed the written music well, knowing exactly which versions of the chords to play before he even got to them. Yami knew his guitar like the back of his hand; he knew that that would never change.

Once they hit the chorus of the song Zach asked Yami to change his strumming pattern. Yami changed the way that his hand moved accordingly, and Zach began to concentrate on his own part again, happy with the way that it sounded.

The song sounded excellent for a first run through, and Yami was thoroughly impressed with the way that Zach had written it. This would be a great opening piece for a gig, if they ever had one.

Encompassed with his thoughts, Yami didn't notice how quickly the guitar solo hit him. He didn't realize that it had come until Zach and Jullian stopped playing and were looking at him. Yami quickly tried to throw something together in the right key, but ended up placing two of his fingers in the wrong frets and creating a terrible noise.

Yami felt his head spin as his fingers tried to frantically make up for his mistake.

He looked up, feeling like there were crowds of cheering people under him. He could see them, right down to what clothes they were wearing. He felt the humidity that always came with large amounts of people trapped in an enclosed space, too. He could smell the faint odor of sweet flavored alcohol and the sweating bodies of the people on the dance floor, and felt the heat of the stage lights on him and the flicker of the strobe that was cast out onto the audience.

Yami looked in the corner, where he always looked when his fingers ended up in the wrong place, and he could have sworn that he saw a pair of gray eyes. He knew for a fact that he saw the person that they belonged to as well.

Yami felt like time was flying backwards. That was the last thing that he felt.

To Be Continued

Author's Notes: And here we go, an on time update. Let's see how long these last. :p.

This chapter just came out of my fingers. I had an idea of where I wanted to go, but I didn't really plan ahead. I'm 'writing on the fly,' you could say. :D.

I think that this story is going the way that it should be, but it's still too early to tell. If there's anything that anyone wants to see in this story, please tell me. I'd like to see what everyone thinks.

Please Review.