Monday was a write-off. Klavier only crawled out of bed in the evening to eat and piss, his haze of thoughts clearing just enough to let him realise that he was going to pass out if he didn't put something into his body. He'd been lucky enough to have a bottle of water by his bed so that he at least wasn't entirely dehydrated, but if he hadn't purposefully avoided looking into any mirrors then he was sure he would have seen death staring back at him.

He wasn't as big of a star as he'd once been, but the internet would still have an absolute field day with current pictures of him.

Tuesday disappeared into a drunken haze, the bottles of good wine that he kept for special occasions disappearing much faster than they should have. At least his fridge was mostly full, not that he could remember what he'd slapped together and shoved into his mouth between massive gulps straight from the bottle.

On Wednesday he at least managed to graduate to the couch, aimlessly flipping through channels on his oversized TV while the misery of his hangover provided a welcome change from the misery of his break-up. He'd gotten a little too engrossed in a few of the daytime soap operas, empathising with the jilted lovers and feeling their sadness, but he'd had to change the channel when a woman was arrested on her twin sister's murder charges.

He was almost used to the emotional weight in his gut, although more than once he had to remind himself that trying to call Apollo was definitely a bad idea.

Thursday was a little better in the grand scheme of things. Klavier didn't want to leave his apartment, but he showered and changed into real clothes for the first time since Saturday. Everything still hurt, but wallowing in his own misery was feeling like a less appealing option than it had the day before.

He briefly turned his personal phone on, saw that the only messages he had were automated reminders about bill payments, and immediately turned it off again. At some point he'd have to change his background from that picture of him and Apollo, but it could wait. The pictures were off his walls, but he could at least keep one for a while, right?

On Friday he started getting restless, his fingers tapping on his table to a beat he didn't recognise as he ate lunch. He usually threw himself into his work enough that he never had a second to be bored, but even in the aftermath of his heart ripping to shreds he could still feel the approach of cabin fever.

So tapping fingers became quiet humming, and quiet humming became disjointed lyrics, and disjointed lyrics became everything that Klavier wanted to say but had no one to say it to. After previous break-ups, he'd talked it through with Daryan over drinks until he'd felt better, but now?

Now he would talk to the world.

Klavier had never really understood people who channelled their unhappiness into art, considering that his style of art had always been raunchy lyrics and seductively catchy rhythms. But now that he wasn't constrained by the expectations surrounding the Gavinners, and considering the reactions he'd gotten to The Guitar's Serenade

The world might just be ready for an older, more introspective Klavier Gavin. And maybe if something smiled upon him, Apollo might find it more to his liking, and he would hear Klavier's apology.

By Saturday, Klavier was remembering how therapeutic music had been for him as a teenager, going through puberty and thinking that every day was the worst day ever. A traditional therapist would probably be a better choice, but at least he could start considering his issues through his music.

On Sunday, though, the crushing realisation that he was returning to work where his path would inevitably cross with Apollo's hit him like a truck, leaving him shaking in its aftermath. Even if they no longer worked on the same cases, considering that their relationship had been a serious conflict of interests, they still saw each other at the courthouse and the detention centre.

Klavier was feeling better, but he knew without a doubt that it would all come crashing down if he saw Apollo. He wasn't even sure if years of publicity training could stop him from begging the man right then and there to tell him how he could make Apollo feel better.

But his music was coming out just as naturally as it once had at the height of the Gavinners' popularity, and by Sunday evening Klavier was entertaining an idea that could either make or break him.

On Monday, Klavier woke up far earlier than usual, scrubbing himself clean in the shower and washing his hair to its previous standard of perfection. He tied the now-soft mass back into a simple high ponytail, not even willing to try and twist it into the style that both he and Kristoph had favoured. Still, he looked good, and after a generous amount of concealer and foundation covered up the dark circles under his eyes and the pimples that had appeared in the aftermath of an unhealthy week, he looked even better.

Dry-cleaned pants, shirt and trademark purple jacket were teamed with shining shoes and his usual necklace, and Klavier looked himself up and down in his full-length mirror for the first time in over a week.

He wanted nothing more than to go back to bed, but he was fairly certain that the world hadn't stopped turning while he'd been cooped up inside, and Edgeworth would definitely want to hear what he had to say in person.

Taking a deep breath, making sure that he had all his belongings and standing up as straight as he could, Klavier plastered a perfect smile on his face and blew a kiss to his reflection, knowing that Kristoph would never do such a thing and so it was definitely himself looking back.

Then, for the first time in nine days, Klavier Gavin stepped out into the world, the facade of perfection thrown firmly over the hurting man inside.


It was early, too early even for Edgeworth's secretary to be at her desk, but Klavier still knew that he could find his boss in his office. He was fairly certain that the man never slept, starting earlier and staying later than anyone else in the building.

Considering the quiet state of the building, Edgeworth's office door was wide open, but Klavier knocked regardless. Edgeworth was far too composed to show any shock at being interrupted so early on a Monday morning, but Klavier was sure that he saw at least a little pleasant surprise in Edgeworth's expression at the sight of his visitor.

"Mr Gavin," Edgeworth greeted as he adjusted his glasses, standing up and gesturing for Klavier to enter and take one of the seats across the desk. "You're looking well."

"Don't tell my fans but it's mostly make-up," Klavier replied as he sat down, trying to maintain his usual casually sloppy posture. Edgeworth's eyebrows quirked at the little joke, and Klavier took that as a win. "Thanks for giving me the time off, by the way."

"I can't stop employees from using their paid leave," Edgeworth said, but his eyes told Klavier a completely different story. He had a creeping suspicion that Edgeworth knew, and considering how often Klavier had come across Phoenix Wright skulking around the building, his suspicions definitely weren't unfounded.

And wasn't that just another person on the list of lives that Klavier had damaged, a man who had lost everything for seven years because Klavier couldn't take the idea of losing his first case.

But that was why Klavier was in his superior's office first thing on a Monday morning, and now he had to see things through.

"What brings you to my office so early, Mr Gavin?"

Fighting the nervous urge to run his hand through his ponytail, Klavier shifted until he was sitting up straight and looked Edgeworth right in the eye.

"I quit."

Edgeworth didn't visibly react, and seconds ticked past in silence as the pair maintained steady eye contact. It was Edgeworth who looked away first, but Klavier still didn't feel like he'd won.

"May I ask why?"

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Klavier let one hand stray to his necklace, running his fingers over the points. "I'm going back to music. All I've done as a prosecutor is hurt people, and I can't take it any more."

Edgeworth took another few moments to run that through his mind, cool gaze still focused on Klavier. "You've successfully prosecuted more cases so far this year than any other prosecutor in this building, you have had a hand in solving multiple high-profile murder cases, and your name has been mentioned in relation to the High Prosecutor position that my own promotion left vacant over a year ago. Those are hardly insignificant achievements."

"You flatter me, Herr Edgeworth, but none of those overshadow the fact that I put both my one remaining family member and the only real friend I ever had into jail."

"Do not confuse flattery for fact," Edgeworth said, voice still infuriatingly calm and distant. "The fact that you helped to solve a number of murders without being blinded by your attachment to the perpetrators is a testament to your skill as a prosecutor."

"So what?" Klavier finally snapped, ignoring the way that Edgeworth looked like this was the outcome he'd been aiming for. "I've got nothing left, Edgeworth. I didn't leave my apartment for over a week and you were literally the only person who called me to find out where I was. There's nothing here for me."

Breathing hard, Klavier pulled himself back together, Edgeworth watching intently in silence until he could see that Klavier was calm again.

"I will approve you for an unpaid leave of absence." Klavier opened his mouth to argue that he was quitting, but Edgeworth held up a hand and continued on, cutting Klavier off before he could start. "Do not throw away a flourishing career over a man- or a woman, for that matter."

"It's not just-"

"Even if this was just the final straw," Edgeworth cut in over Klavier again, "I won't have one of my prosecutors making rash decisions because of a complicated love life."

The tone of Edgeworth's voice made Klavier think that there was more to Edgeworth's attitude than he was letting on, and although Klavier didn't typically put too much stock in gossip he'd certainly heard some compelling rumours about the Chief Prosecutor and a certain defence attorney. The fact that Edgeworth did indeed seem to know exactly what had happened to Klavier led even more credibility to those rumours, considering how closely said defence attorney worked with Apollo.

Klavier frowned, but he knew that there was no way he could win this battle. His job necessitated that he could put forth a good argument, but even he could admit that he wasn't yet on the same level as the Miles Edgeworth. "Fine, whatever. Just don't be surprised if I never come back."

"You can reassess your position in six months," Edgeworth said in that calm voice, jotting down a quick note to himself before looking back at Klavier. "My secretary will email you the necessary documents later today."

Klavier was clever enough to know when he was being dismissed and so he stood up, wondering just how Edgeworth had shifted his resolve in a matter of minutes. If it hadn't been directed at him then it certainly would have been impressive to witness.

"Goodbye, Herr Edgeworth. I'll send you a copy of my solo debut album."

"I'll look forward to it," Edgeworth replied easily, sliding a pile of documents towards himself and not bothering to look up as Klavier walked out of his office. Shaking his head in vague amusement, Klavier paused by the door to put himself together again, dropping back into Klavier Gavin so that he could face the public once again.

It wasn't easy, but it only had to stick until he got home. He had music to write, and his emotions felt raw enough that he was thoroughly anticipating the results.