"…It seems everybody's new favourite bad boy, Shuichi Shindou, was at it again! Last night he was spotted cursing loudly at another bar patron…. Witnesses say the patron approached Shindou for an autograph, when a very drunken Shindou threw a drink at him and began screaming that 'Bad Luck was dead'. One person described Shindou's actions as 'wild and desperate'….
The TV was turned off suddenly, casting the room in near darkness. The lights from the city and the moon made the smoke look blue as it hazed around the room. The man sitting on the couch sighed, and pressed the remote control to his forehead, deep in thought.
Ayaka hummed happily as she brought her items to the counter. Hiro was in the car, having finished pumping the gas into their brand new vehicle. She volunteered to go inside and pay. Customers of the gas station recognized Hiro; a low buzz of voices began around them, which they knew meant fans were getting stirred up.
Ayaka smiled at the ring on her finger, happy to know that her fiancé, who was loved by so many, loved her so much. In fact, they were on their way to Kyoto to visit her parents. Originally disappointed their daughter wasn't going to marry Yuki Eiri; her parents soon were enamoured by Hiro's charm and were now quite supportive of their union.
"And a pack of Walboro, red, please," Ayaka said to the cashier as she put down the bottles of water on the counter. While the young cashier reached for the cigarettes, Ayaka looked threw the tabloids. It was the usual celebrity crap, with headlines screaming ridiculous, mostly false declarations. She was just sad to see that so many of them hosted pictures of Shuichi at his worst.
'Shindou's new squeeze!' read one title. On the cover was a picture of Shuichi being supported by a much taller man who could have easily been ten years older than him. Shuichi had a hood covering most of his face; the only thing visible was his mouth, set in a grimace.
"Miss?" The cashier said, bringing Ayaka out of her thoughts. She smiled apologetically at him, grabbed the magazine and placed it on the counter. The cashier gave her on odd look, but didn't say anything.
Ayaka didn't pull the magazine out of the white plastic bag until they were half way to Kyoto. Hiro glanced at it out of the corner of his eye, his face becoming almost stern. Hiro avoided the topic of Shuichi as much as he could. Whether it was out of guilt or genuine annoyance that Shuichi was acting out, nobody really knew. Maybe it was a bit of both, but Ayaka had a sneaking suspicion that it was due to guilt and more guilt.
"Have you talked to him recently?" Ayaka asked softly.
Hiro sighed, but didn't offer a reply beyond that. Figuring that Hiro was avoiding the question, like so many times before, Ayaka looked back to the magazine on her lap.
"It's just that…" Hiro began, his shoulders squaring. "It's been so long, you know? Five months since the party at NG! He just walked out, you remember? And he was so out of it… And look at those pictures! That's not Shuichi… No, I haven't spoken to him. I think the last time I talked to him was just before Yuki left him! That's when…"
He shook his head, like he didn't know how to continue, his breath coming out shaky. It was then that Ayaka realized that, with every other factor, Hiro didn't talk about Shuichi because he couldn't. It was too painful. He didn't know what to say.
She looked at him sadly, gently resting her hand on his knee. He didn't look at her, but one hand came down from the steering wheel and gripped hers firmly.
"I know…" was all she said. They remained silent the rest of the car ride, holding hands.
Shuichi looked down at the bottle of pills in his hand. He was standing in the bathroom, above the sink. Briefly he considered pouring the contents down the drain, but decided against it. He popped the top and threw two pills in his mouth, his recommended dose. After dry swallowing the pills, he looked up at himself in the mirror. He was pale, with dark circles around his eyes, his once pink hair was now a very dark purple, and longer than he liked it. And these pills made him gain weight, which made him insecure.
The blankness in his eyes was another side effect. He thought anti-depressants were meant to make one happier, but he just felt emotionless most of the time. He supposed that was better than feeling too sad to get out of bed, or so angry that he wanted to lash out at everybody. Other side effects were nausea, fatigue, dry mouth, and restlessness.
When his sister, a nurse in training, approached him last month about the possibility of antidepressants, she warned him it could take a few tries to find the right medication and the right dosage for him. But Shuichi didn't want to deal with that, so he stuck with the first one, and tried to reassure Maiko that he felt better. He knew it wouldn't be too hard for her to figure out the truth, but she hadn't contacted him since.
He got loads of calls from producers of talk shows, journalists, and other business like types, all wanting him to make an appearance or give an interview of some sort. Usually K dealt with those calls, and he wasn't even sure how they got his private cell number. But he had to admit it was preferable to the silence. Even though he didn't answer most of them.
Putting down the pills, he shuffled his way to the couch, where he left his cell phone. He picked it up, noticed there were no messages from when he left it five minutes before. He wanted to call somebody but didn't know who. So he sat down on the floor beside the couch staring blankly at his phone. He didn't notice when an hour had past, but his knees felt cramped and suddenly he couldn't stand to sit anymore.
He walked mindlessly around the house, before finding himself at the kitchen counter. He grabbed a bottle of vintage scotch and took a shot. It burned his throat and made him gag, but he didn't care. In fact, he took another shot. And then another. The third went down smoothly.
But the silence was really getting on his nerves, so he grabbed his keys and wallet, and all but ran to his car. Nobody would be surprised to know he was heading to a night club, with lots of people and lots of sound.
When Christmas Eve rolled around, Shuichi was on his medicine for two months and still felt like shit. He had gained enough weight to make him hide in oversized sweaters and baggy pants, and he tried to avoid going into public. The clever journalists had quickly picked up on his weight gain, and never missed a chance to share a photo of him looking 'ungainly'. He couldn't even look at himself in the mirror without hearing all those harsh words about himself, all screaming behind his blank violet eyes.
But his parents were determined to get him over this Christmas, and they tried to keep him busy with Christmas activities, like decorating the tree, and baking cookies. Maiko cornered him and asked about his medication, and he tried to tell her he felt great, but she looked sceptical when he walked away. They both agreed not to tell anybody about him taking antidepressants, so when their parents asked why she looked sad suddenly, she shrugged it off.
After a very nice dinner, which Shuichi tried not to eat too much of, they sat around the living area with a glass of wine. Everyone was obviously aware that Shuichi indulged in alcohol, so they kept a wary eye on him. Maiko watched for another reason, knowing that one wasn't supposed to drink alcohol while on antidepressants. All of the eyes on him pissed Shuichi off. He gave them all a measured look, then brought the glass to his lips and drank deeply. After that, Mrs. Shindou didn't look him in the eyes.
A few family friends were mingling, drunk off the holiday spirit. No one missed the opportunity to touch his arm and tell him stories from when he was younger. Shuichi knew most of them were proud to be in the same room as somebody famous. They probably told everybody they knew the stories of him when he was younger, as well as how they spent a very exciting Christmas Eve with him. And how awful he looked.
He tried to be happy for all these people, but he felt restless and annoyed. When he got up to sneak out for a joint, he overheard Maiko talking.
"I'm this close to being a registered nurse, and Kyo couldn't be happier for me! He wishes he could be here, but he is with his own family. You know, I think he's going to ask me to marry him any day! Mom and dad love him so much; he's a great guy! Oh, listen to me, gushing like this! I'm just so happy."
He walked out of the house through the kitchen door thinking who the fuck is Kyo? On his way out, he grabbed the bottle of wine. He smoked and drank outside for about half an hour, thinking about how everybody's life was coming together so nicely, and he was so fucking lonely.
By the time he entered again, he frozen and pretty intoxicated. He hoped nobody would notice, but it seemed like all eyes were on him. And then he saw him, Hiro, standing in the middle of the room.
He hadn't seen or heard from Hiro since Bad Luck disbanded, and he had no clue why Hiro would just show up like this. It seemed like a conspiracy. His mom looked tense, standing very close to Mr. Shindou. Did they plan this?
Anger began to bubble in his chest, despite the dulling effects of the pills.
"Hello, Shuichi," Ayaka said from beside Hiro, when nobody said anything. She stepped forward and brought him into a hug. He instantly felt how small she was, and became insecure how he must feel in her arms. Fat, he bet. When she stepped away and looked at his face with a gentle smile, he couldn't help the tears from building up. She noticed them and looked concerned.
"Why are you here?" He asked softly, stepping back from her. But he was staring at Hiro.
"We just stopped by to say Merry Christmas and to pass out wedding invitations…" Hiro mumbled, staring at the floor.
"Well merry fucking Christmas, now get out!" He yelled, feeling out of control. Everybody was staring at him with shock now, but he couldn't help it. Seeing Hiro, who looked so fit and happy, triggered everything he tried to suppress for months. God, why was everybody so happy and why couldn't he feel the same way?
"Shuichi," Maiko began. He shook his head violently, as if to ward off what she was about to say.
"No! This is so fucked up! You think you can just walk around and be so perfect and happy and we should all just be so fucking happy for you! But we're not! I'm not!" He screamed, and now he wasn't even sure who he was talking to. Everybody. "You ruined my life!"
"Shuichi, stop acting like a child!" Hiro screamed back, words that he wanted to say for so long.
"Fuck you!" Shuichi hissed, turning on his heel, and stomping back towards the door. "Fuck everybody!"
Shuichi didn't sleep that night. He stayed up all night drinking, looking through the numbers on his cell phone. He read and reread all the names of the all the people he thought he knew. The anger wasn't gone, but the alcohol helped him feel the sadness and guilt, too. His stereo was on as loud as it could go, which was impressively loud, blaring Nittle Grasper with urgency. Shining collection, on repeat.
He wobbled back to the bathroom with his cell in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other. He looked at himself in the mirror, hating the person he saw there.
"Who do you think you are?" he asked himself harshly. "You're disgusting! Who are you!" With the fist clutching his cell phone, he wound back and punched the mirror. It didn't completely shatter like he had hoped; his face stared back at him through hundreds of cracks. And his knuckles were bleeding.
"Fuck!" He sobbed. He dropped the bottle of vodka, which didn't shatter either. In a fit of rage, he swept the contents on the counter to the ground, grabbing random items and throwing them around the room. When he was done, left breathing loudly, he sank to his knees and sobbed.
And then he spotted the antidepressants, rolled towards the door. And then he knew what to do. He grabbed the bottle, uncapped it, and emptied it all into his mouth. He grabbed the vodka bottle, uncapped that as well, and drank deeply from it.
He felt sick and scared with the realization of what he was doing, but at that moment, it was all he ever wanted. He found his cell phone again, looking through his contact list. Then he sent a mass text message simply saying, "I'm sorry. Please be happy always."
He laid down in the mess he made of his bathroom, among all the thrown toiletries, the shattered glass, drops of blood, empty pill bottle… he closed his eyes, and waited. A small part of him hoped that somebody would reply to his cryptic goodbye, so he could tell them what he just did and maybe get them to bring them to a hospital. He hoped it would be Yuki. But no reply came, and Shuichi drifted off.
Sorry for making you all wait so long. Thank you for all the reviews, they make me happy and inspired! Let's see if Shuichi will pull through...