A/N: Soo... I'm alive. Hm... not much to say about me. So, I'll give you some random infos!
Okay, so first off, I do sorta kinda have a life. It's called HIGH SCHOOL. Yes. So, I'll write in my oh-so-fabulous Notebook of Certain Doom during the school day, but that doesn't necessarily mean that I'll type it up that night. Friday will be the most opportune moment to work on the latest chapter. Which all translates to: I'll probably update on weekends. Yes.
Secondly, if no one noticed, on my profile, I have a section called, "Works in Progress" or something like that. Under that section, I haveSpectacular's progress. So, if you think I've dropped off the face of the planet, just check there. I might have added or changed something. XD
And as a random note, I've breached the 10k archived words mark. Yay!
Well, that's about it for now. I guess I should actually let you read the chapter now. Onward!
Disclaimer: Okay, so I lied. You gotta get through this first. XD Well, this and the dedication. But I digress! I do not own Kingdom Hearts, nor Zexy's oddly fun hair. I love drawing his hair. But I do own a blue Nintendo DS named Zemyx.
Dedication: Here's to everyone that is enjoying this story, despite it only being in it's second chapter.
I positively despise mornings.
Sunlight spilled over the mountains, bleeding through the clouds, casting a cheery pink glow over the valley. The dawn brought forth the early birds to the fair, people that had to help clean up and organize and set up for that day's later activities. But it also roused a certain slate-haired teen. A certain slate-haired teen that was, in fact, laying on the ground, using his bag as a makeshift pillow and his black jacket as a blanket of sorts. His side was soaked from the dew that had settled into the grass before the sun had even come up. His neck ached from laying on the bag for so long, his sides were cramped, his hair was extremely tangled, and he was almost positive he had a bright red mark on the side of his face since he had been lying on it. He sat there and looked around, sleep not having quiteleft him yet. Slowly, he pulled out a shirt from his bag – one of the few things he'd managed to grab and stuff in there – and stared blankly at it for several moments, before actually deciding to change into it. As he was pulling off his white t-shirt, flashes of the previous night invaded his memory, causing him to move slower still. But it was something he couldn't quite shake: the feeling of not belonging in the least. The troupe of performers, they were so entirely close, that he felt as if he were an alien from Mars invading Earth sadly attempting to befriend the strange earthlings.
"You sure it's alright with your parents, kid?"
The sentence bounced around mercilessly in his head. He did not particularly enjoy being asked if his parents approved – he wascertainly old enough to make his own decisions. But apparently, he did not look his age.
The sharp-shooter from the show had been the one to ask it. Demyx and him had just entered the camp when they ran into him – and for the blonde-haired musician, that is meant in the most literal way possible.
"Hey! Watch i- Oh, hey Little Dude."
"Hey, Xig. I brought a friend over for dinner!"
The sharp-shooter had glanced between the two before asking.
"You sure it's alright with your parents, kid?"
Zexion had just nodded slowly, looking beyond the older man, into the camp.
The troupe had set up camp in a rather unique fashion; one that almost reminded you of how the pioneers used to arrange their wagons when they made camp. Cars, trailers, and a camper were parked in what looked like a protective circle around several multi-coloured tents. The tents then encased a small area for various activities, such as cooking.
"No worries. He called them with my cell phone."
In reality, he'd only pretended to call them. He hoped the blonde wouldn't think to check his Outgoing Calls.
"If you say so, Little Dude. We're going out to the truck pull. Wanna come?"
Demyx had shook his head, smiling over at Zexion.
"Sorry, I have other plans."
"S'all good. Catch ya later."
He had been confused; the man looked as if he was in his late thirties, early forties, but yet, he had been using the language a much younger person would.
"That was Xigbar. I don't know if you remember, but he was the sharp-shooter."
Zexion had nodded in affirmation, turning his full attention to the blonde.
"When he said 'We're', he meant him, Larxene, and Luxord. Larxene was the blonde animal tamer. She has the most random act out of all of us – an animal tamer in a troupe that travels to fairs. Oh, but she is one sadistic bitch. If she comes up to you with a smile that's just too sugary-sweet to be natural, it's not. She probably has sharp weapons behind her back. Just run when she does that. Seriously. Oh, and Luxord was the British dude. He's killer at poker. Never, ever play a game with him. Especiallyif it's strip poker. That never goes over well. Never."
A small chuckle had escaped the slate-haired teen's throat. Demyx's smile grew, and he continued, pointing out various tents as he stated their owner.
"See that pink tent over there? That's Kairi and Naminé's tent. They were the freaky, mind-reading twins. It's kinda creepy, 'cause they can always, and I mean always, tell what you're thinking. Okay, so they don't actually read minds. They read hearts and memories. And sort of predict the future – but that's not their strong point. They can only pull keywords out of a future. Sort of like... hints. But they're so quiet. It's unnerving when it's only you and them in a room.
"Oh, and that red tent? That's the other twin's, Roxas and Sora. They are the completeopposite of Kairi and Naminé. Roxas and Sora are loud and obnoxious, but the life of the figurative party. Like just the other day, they woke us all up and three o'clock in the freaking morning, screamingat each other over a remote. We couldn't seem to figure it out, seeing as the only TV in camp is in Riku's camper. And I can assure you it is quiteremoteless.
"Oh, Riku's the one with silver hair and aquamarine eyes. He can catch just about anyone's attention. It's kinda scary how many people stare at him before and after shows. But yeah, that camper's his. He's sort of our stage master. He runs everything that happens onstage, and most of what happens off. He also – somehow – manages to keep us all sane and cooperating. Don't ask me how that's possible, I'm still trying to figure it out for myself.
"Oh, and Axel usually sleeps on the camper's couch. Axel and Riku have been best friends since way before I joined. Every Saturday night, they have anime night. That's the night where they watch absolutely nothing by anime, and eat ramen and what-not. It's kinda funny if you hang around outside 'cause they get really into it and start yelling at the TV. Anyway, yeah. He's the pyro. I think he was the only one, besides me, to introduce themselves."
On and on he went, telling anything and everything he could think of to Zexion. And he had listened intently, absorbing all the information Demyx spouted.
But around 10:30 P.M., he decided his charade needed to end, and made a swift exit, leaving behind a saddened blonde.
He didn't notice that he was still shirtless until he felt warm sunlight on his skin. He'd gotten so wrapped up in his memories, he'd unconsciously halted his actions. A light blush spread across his face as he silently hoped no one had seen him sitting around like that.
I remember why I hate fairs now.
West Virginia summers were just too darn hot, he decided as he walked uphill towards the fair. He had been awake for barely an hour and he was already sweating. Looking around, he decided the first thing he should do is purchase a drink, so, he joined the long line of waiting people. He scanned the area, picking out random people in the crowd.
He saw the flower girl from yesterday, but noticed her pink-haired friend was missing as she continued what she had been doing yesterday. Except, today, she was handing out red chrysanthemums to anyone willing to take them. He turned his head and looked back down the line, trying to ignore her. He failed when he continued to glance back at her, and eventually, approached her, wordlessly accepting the flower. She smiled kindly at him, asking his name, which he readily provided her with.
"It's nice to meet you, Zexion. My name's Aerith."
She had a soft, pleasant voice; one that reminded you of your mother's when you were younger. It filled his heart with warmth. The smile that graced her features was nothing less than kind, and the look her eyes held a sort of comforting stare.
"... Uhm... Thank you... for the flower, I mean."
It was the first full sentence he'd spoken in three days.
"You're welcome."
"... May I ask... why..."
"Why I'm giving out flowers?"
He nodded.
"Because giving flowers to anyone can brighten one's day."
He looked back down at the red chrysanthemum he held, noticing how each individual petal was different than the one beside it, let it be a different size, shape, how slightly less vibrant it was than it's companions, or how it just seemed to put life into the flower.
"... How do you make a living?"
She laughed softly, making him relax further.
"I don't work exclusively at the fair, dear."
"... Oh... M'sorry... "
"Why are you apologizing? You did nothing wrong."
He pursed his lips and nodded, turning his attention back to the chrysanthemum.
"Here."
She plucked the flower from his hand and reached up, tucking his hair – and the flower – behind his ear. He stared up at her with wide, childish eyes, garnering another gentle smile from her.
"You're adorable. Why do you keep your hair like that?"
He was silent, considering this a moment before shrugging.
"Uhm... where's your... friend?"
Aerith shrugged, glancing around before settling her emerald eyes back on Zexion.
"Marluxia's around here somewhere."
He nodded and looked at the line for the concession stand. It had shortened considerably since he had began talking to the brunette girl.
"I.. uh... gotta go."
Aerith nodded in understanding, spotting the shortened line herself. She patted Zexion on the head before turning and walking away, waving briefly over her shoulder before crouching down in front of a little girl and offering her a flower.
The smell of the ocean was quickly becoming a familiar scent.
"Zexy!!"
Every muscle in his body tensed when he heard that name. He whipped around to face the blonde musician so fast, the flower fell from behind his ear and slate hair once again covered half his face, hiding half of the fierce glare he was giving the boy. That was one name he never wanted to be called again.
"Donot call me by that name."
His tone was commanding – a complete opposite of his usually soft, reserved voice. His expression softened, though, when he saw the hurt look on the blonde's face.
"I-I'm sorry. I'll come back at a later time."
His eyes widened in panic before he lunged forward and caught Demyx's wrist, shaking his head violently when the blonde looked back at him with surprise, the chrysanthemum completely forgotten.
"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to sound like that..."
Confusion filled those blue eyes before nodding.
"It's okay. You having a bad day or something?"
Zexion pursed his lips before shaking his head.
"No... Just... don't. Please."
Demyx blinked.
"Okay. How's Zex, then?"
He thought it over a moment. It was really close to that name... but it wasn't it.
"...Alright."
"Woohooo!! So, whaddya wanna do today, Zex?"
"... I wasn't aware I was spending the day with you."
"Let's go to the funhouse!"
"Uh... what?"
"The funhouse! You know, the place with all the strange thi--"
"... I know what a funhouse is... Why...?"
"For the hell of it!"
And so he was dragged off to the funhouse.
I learned I despised funhouses more than the carnival itself.
Challenge One: Hall of (Damned) Mirrors
"Ouch!"
"... It can't be possible for one person to run into twelve mirrors... in five minutes."
"You... shush!"
"..."
The pair had, indeed, been in the funhouse for five measly minutes, and Demyx had – somehow – managed to run them both into twelve mirrors. Zexion was currently sporting a busted lip, while Demyx managed to come through – so far – unscathed. Finally – finally – they burst into the next section. The blonde's laughter echoed in the small stairway while Zexion nursed his bleeding lip, holding a tissue he'd had in his bag over it.
"Dude. I can't believe we made it through that!"
"... Speak for yourself..."
Challenge Two: Stairs of (Certain) Death
"So... tell me about yourself, Zex!"
"... Like what...?"
"Well, what's your favorite colour?"
"... Emera – Cerulean."
"That's my favorite colour, too!"
"Then, how about your favorite book?
"... Dante's Inferno..."
"Dude, that's Axe-- WHOA!"
The steps collapsed, sending the pair straight back to the bottom. They lay sprawled across the floor for several moments, staring blankly at each other before helping one another up and attempting the climb once more. This time, when the stairs flattened, Demyx grabbed Zexion's wrist and jumped the final foot. They looked at each other and blinked, then turned and looked back at the steps as they fixed themselves.
"That has got to be a safety violation."
Challenge Three: Catwalk of (Absolute) Doom
He could only stare at the metal bridge blankly. It was encased by a swirling mass of diagonal stripes – enough to make him extremely dizzy. The blonde smiled and offered his hand to the wary teen.
"It's perfectly safe."
It wasn't safety he was concerned for, though – it was his breakfast. Cautiously, he took the blonde's hand and allowed him to lead him across. He watched the lazy spin of the lines before moving forward and burying his head in Demyx's shoulder. The blonde stopped cold for a moment, glancing back at the slate-haired teen in surprise before continuing on.
He was hesitant to leave the comforting warmth Demyx offered when they finally left that dizzying area, but he was grateful to be past it.
"... Thanks..."
Challenge Four: Steps of (Premature) Demise
They stood side by side, staring down at the staircase, waiting for them to do something. Nothing happened.
"You think it's safe...?"
"... No."
"Way to be frank."
He nodded, looking back at the steps for a long moment. Finally, he took a hesitant step forward, testing the top step. So far so good. Slowly, he took another step, then another. And another. He made it halfway before the stair slid out from under him, and, if Demyx hadn't been right behind him, he would have plunged headfirst to the bottom. But as it stood, the blonde had managed to grab his arm before he fell.
"That was close!"
"... Yeah."
Zexion looked up at his friend, gratitude and appreciation swirling in his violet eyes. The musician only smiled and nodded before urging him to continue. Down they went, narrowly avoiding two more vanishing steps before stumbling to the bottom and out the door.
"Freedom! Yeah!"
Demyx cheered, raising his hands above his head as he basked in the sunlight. A small smile crept onto the slate-haired teen's face as he watched the blonde twirl around in circles before turning to face him once more.
"So, what do you want to do now?"
"... I dunno..."
Zexion glanced around, unable to find anything of interest.
"Hmm, how about... the swinging chairs?"
"... No."
"Uhm... Ferris wheel?"
"... No."
"Anything?"
"... No."
Demyx just stared at him, before sighing.
"How about food?"
"... Ye--"
An all-to-familiar wave of nausea suddenly swept over him, forcing him to interrupt his sentence and begin running. He passed Aerith chatting lively with her friend – Marluxia? He passed a group of girls fawning over Axel, despite his clear disinterest. He passed the funhouse, the Merry-Go-Round, the Ferris wheel, the stage, finally stopping to quickly shove his way into the male restroom. He barely made it before everything he'd eaten that day came back up, and he'd slumped to the ground, his world going black.
Uhm, so, cliffhanger? I hope it wasn't TOO lame. XD; Anyway, please, review. I love to hear what you all think.
Oh, quick side-note: This will NOT be an M-Preg. Just... no. Sorry.