When you're staring right into the eyes of Death himself, beneath his hood of shadows and cobwebs, you're supposed to be scared. You're never supposed to forget how very close you were to ending your life and it's supposed to have some monumental effect on the way you live your life. You're supposed to treasure life so much more and come out a different person, as if you went through some sort of butterfly-like transformation. Suicide is almost treated like a rite of passage. Oh, you tried to blow your brains out? Well, congratulations. You're a man now. To me, staring at those pills and having them ripped away only told me one thing. It told me that I wasn't meant to die like that. Saïx would have never wanted it. But, in retrospect, Saïx didn't have much to do with the relief and guilt I felt when I was forced to flush those tablets down the toilet like I had with my own vomit. It was caused by the realization that someone actually cared about me and I had let them down. Demyx was my friend, one that I had avoided avidly for a month, and one that I had almost killed myself in front of. I had treated our relationship like it was nothing but a one-day thing, and I realized that he was going to be in my life a lot more. I wanted him to be. I didn't want to be lonely in the darkest time of my life.

I gathered up my single suitcase of luggage and started to look for my mother, knowing she would be my ride. I wasn't looking too forward to staying with my parents for the week I had for spring break, but I was a little excited at the chance to see Roxas again. He had been my best friend in high school, taking over the spot at my side that Saïx had stood in. I didn't hate him for that. Actually, I'm glad he did it. If he hadn't, I would have missed Saïx's absence in our high school years far more than I actually did. Granted, Roxas was a year younger and had just graduated from high school last year, but he was still a good friend. While he wasn't good with emotional bullshit because he was a befuddled adolescent himself, the kid knew how to make me forget what was bothering me and just have a good time. That was something that he and Demyx seemed to have in common. Or maybe I was just easily distracted, focusing on the shiny things rather than the mundane.

"What the hell happened to you?"

I turned in response to the familiar voice, finding Roxas' blue eyes narrowed and scrutinizing me as if I was a piece of shit in a fine art gallery. I only shrugged, shifting my suitcase to my left hand.

"I thought Ma was coming to pick me up," I teased, reaching forward to mess up his hair, to which he slapped my hand away, "Not some pubescent high school graduate that's making a living spitin' on burgers at McDonalds." I couldn't help but grin at the look of complete and utter confusion on his face.

"Who the fuck are you and what've you done with Axel?" he demanded, crossing his arms firmly over his chest as his head tilted to look at me properly. "You look like shit, but what's with the happy attitude?"

So I told him the truth. "I almost killed myself yesterday, I haven't eaten a real meal in a month, I fucked two people in a day a four weeks ago, and Hakuna Matada is stuck in my head."

He just stared at me. He stared in complete shock as I barked out laughter like someone who was released too early from a mental hospital. I began to walk, striding out my long legs to stretch them from how cramped the flight had been. Roxas dumbly followed me, his eyes never leaving my face, but I never looked at him. I just smiled like an idiot and hummed loudly to the tune stuck in my head.

Silence accompanied us as we left the terminal and I came face-to-face with New York City, piling in a cab with Roxas and my suitcase as we started heading for Harlem. The silence remained, making me aware of how out of touch I had been with Roxas. I had never called, never texted, never sent a postcard. It was like we were strangers.

"I haven't talked to you since last summer."

He looked out the window, but I noticed the way his cheek moved as he frowned. "You barely talked then. You were in fucking ruins."

I didn't say anything, beginning to drum my fingers on my black suitcase. I had stopped humming and my smile had finally left my face, leaving me with a blank expression.

"Y'know, you could apologize."

"Sorry for getting heartbroken over the death of the one person I fucking cared about," I snapped, angrier than I thought. I glared daggers into the back of his head, daring him to say something else on the matter. The urge to fight was suddenly roaring in my chest like a lion that had missed its dinner and, more than anything, I wanted to start a fucking fist fight in the backseat of that smelly cab.

He turned to return the glare, a hand still on his chin while his elbow rested on the edge of the window. "I know you were killed with that, Axel, but there's such a thing as having a damn soul. Just because he died doesn't give you the excuse to turn into a fucking zombie and scare the shit outta me and your parents."

My jaw tightened. "I didn't-"

"Mean to? Bullshit. If there's one thing I know about you, it's that you're stronger than that. When he ditched you in high school, you weren't upset!"

"It's different when he's never coming back!" I snapped, shouting by that point. "In high school, I knew I could just go see him at home whenever I fucking wanted! He's gone now! He's fucking dead and I can never see him again! He's gone, Roxas! All I wanna do is see him again!"

"Is that why you just told me with a smile on your face that you tried to commit suicide yesterday? Are you proud of that?" he muttered, his voice more in control of his anger than mine was. He almost sounded calm.

"I don't know."

"You dunno? You don't know shit, Axel." He let his words sink in before he turned to the window, directing his burning gaze at the other cars as we made our way through the clogged streets.

I opened my mouth to say something, but it only closed again. I knew that the argument was over before it had even started and pursuing it would get me nowhere. After all, Roxas had a valid point. After Saïx had died, I died as well. I curled inwards, finding myself in the fetal position as the entire world stood around me and watched. I had been a zombie, as Roxas had said. I had been a shell of a being and, if I was being honest, I still was. I couldn't be cured overnight, no matter how badly I wanted to. Spending time with Demyx had definitely helped me, but my heart still had a gaping hole in it, one that was still bleeding. While patching up that spot was what I wanted, the last thing I desired was to completely replace Saïx and forget about him. I wanted to be better, but I wanted to stay in mourning because I felt like that was the best thing to do. Hell, I was a walking contradiction. I didn't know what I wanted.

I turned to look out my own window, but I caught the glance that the cabbie gave the two of us in our post-bickering. He gave me a look of sympathy, to which I just stared out the window again at the cramped city. "Just drive," I snapped. For once in my life, I couldn't wait to get to Harlem.

The cab stopped at the end of my road, both Roxas and I getting out. I grabbed my suitcase as he began heading in the opposite direction, having paid the cabbie only with a few cents of pocket change. I paid the rest of the fare before I watched Roxas go, having the urge to actually apologize. But I didn't. Instead, I started the walk to my own house.

Walking alone through Harlem is something that a visitor wouldn't risk, but it didn't bother me at all. I still got the same old looks I used to, being a white man with flaming red hair in a predominantly black area. Roxas got the same kind of looks, but no one fucked with him. They knew he packed one hell of a punch. Me, on the other hand? I could fight enough to keep myself alive, but not enough to actually make a reputation for myself as "tough guy" like Roxas had. I was a more talented runner than a fighter. I outran half a dozen angry dogs once.

After messing with my key in the locks on the door of our little street-level apartment, I shoved the old door open and slammed it behind me. I didn't bother to announce my presence, as I could hear the loud volume of one of my mom's soap operas on. She already made Roxas go get me so she wouldn't be disturbed, so I really didn't think greeting her now was the best idea. I went straight down the hall, wrenching my bedroom door open. The smell of cigarette smoke attacked my nostrils and I couldn't help but cough, my eyes watering a bit. Apparently, my parents hadn't let my room vent out since my last visit over Christmas break. I threw my suitcase onto my bed, which was still unmade with old white sheets, and braced my hands against the window. After a fit of cussing and hissing in pain and frustration, I finally got the thing open, allowing the sound of angry drivers and police sirens to assault my ears. But at least I was getting relatively fresh air in my room. I couldn't live in nicotine forever.

Just the smell made me itch and I went straight back to my bag, snapping it open and grabbing the pack of cigarettes from the top. I grabbed my shitty Bic lighter and lit up, taking a long drag before I shuffled to the window. I took a seat on a cardboard box that was packed tight with the video games I still hadn't taken to my dorm, leaning out the window and breathing smoke into the outside world to contribute to the smog. I closed my eyes and rested my head against the window frame as I began to relax, the sound of dogs barking, sirens wailing, and horns sounding being somehow calming to me. I couldn't handle the peace that there was on campus. I needed something like this to feel in my element. I was a city boy, that was for sure.

I snapped out of my relaxed trance of blank thoughts as I felt something drop on my lap, causing me to jump a bit. A gray cat meowed happily at me through her purring, rubbing her face against my arm. I laughed softly and began to pet her as she circled up and laid down contently in my lap, meowing on and on and telling me about how much she missed me and that laser I always brought with me. Keeping my cigarette in my teeth as I pet her with one hand, I fished around in my pockets until I found the silver toy, flipping on the button and aiming it at the floor. A bad idea, considering I was wearing rather thin sweat pants. She rocketed off of my lap in an instant and I hissed in pain as I took twenty claws to the groin. I began to move the laser around the room, unable to hold back the laugh I had as she chased that damn little light with so much determination that it made me feel like I had the worst work ethic in the goddamn world.

"I thought I heard Cricket going crazy."

I turned off the laser, causing Cricket to stare around in wonder at where it had gone to. I gave a nod to my father, who was leaning in my doorway.

"Your mother's watching her show."

"I noticed." There wasn't much emotion coming from me, but I knew he was borderline furious. His eyes were locked on the smoking cancer stick in my hand and, before he could object to my smoking, I smashed it against the frame of the window and flicked it out into the alley that my window had such a wonderful outlook to. Nothing says great view like a bunch of cement.

"No smoking in the house."

"This is my room," I argued, "and I don't wanna get jumped while I'm taking a drag. It's not like it's fucking weed or somethin', Dad."

"Just as dangerous."

"Dad," I pleaded, my voice dropping an octave. "I'm a goddamn adult. Let me make my own mistakes."

"You never smoked when Saïx was around."

"Well he's not around anymore, is he?"

Cricket seemed to sense the tension that was steadily building between me and my father and took refuge under my bed, where her little blue eyes dared to watch me as I argued. It was eleven o'clock in the morning and I was already on my second argument. The happy buzz that Demyx had given me had faded.

"You need to find someone else, Axel. It's not healthy for you to be left to your own devices."

"I have Roxas," I argued, hoping he wouldn't bring up the fact that I obviously didn't have the blonde there for me since he had ditched me after the cab ride.

His gray eyebrows knitted together and I swore I saw a vein twitch on his bald head. Dad was ticking. Had I been younger, I would have been scared of getting a spanking. "Axel Samuel Knight."

"Carl Richard Knight," I countered, matching his tone perfectly.

His gray eyes narrowed. I was in dangerous territory. "Is it so much to ask for you to make the right choices?"

I knew this wasn't about my smoking anymore. "Define right choices."

He stayed out of my room, but gestured at me. "Do I really have to? You look like hell, Axel. You're thinner than a rail, the first thing you do when you come home is smoke one of your cigarettes, you look like you have a hangover, and you still look like that robot a car crash gave us."

I felt like I was arguing with Roxas again. I looked away, out the window at the cement wall of the alley as my fingers idly played over the small laser toy I held in my hand. "I don't wanna talk about this, Dad."

"If you don't talk now, you're talking at dinner tonight. Your mother wants to go out. You have more than a few hours to get ready." The door shut.

I sighed as soon as I knew I was alone, slipping off the box and leaving the laser toy on it. I army crawled over to where Cricket was hiding, nudging her out of the way as I joined her under my bed. I had to push a few porno magazines and DVDs out of the way as I did so, but I was eventually laying on my back, nearly touching my nose to the bottom of the bed as my hand began to stroke my purring cat. I eventually fell asleep there, only waking up when my phone was blasting the damn Nokia ringtone at me. I made to sit up, swearing as I hit the bed. I crawled out and looked at the caller ID, my eyes narrowing at Roxas' displayed name. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I finally decided to answer him.

"Sorry."

"There's the fucking apology I wanted."

I turned, finding that his voice was coming from two places. He hung up, placing a hand on the inside of my window before he vaulted himself inside. I just slipped my phone back into my pocket, watching him as Cricket came back in through my door, which she must have opened herself, and hopped onto the bed next to me. The rest of the house was quiet, but I didn't focus on that. Roxas was busy smirking at me.

"You were under your bed?"

I shrugged, running a hand from Cricket's nose to her tail. "It's comfy down there," I defended, my voice a bit snarky.

"Just as comfy as your closet?"

I rolled my eyes at him. He always loved to play that card, as he knew I was still hiding my bisexuality from my parents, along with the fact that the reason I was so upset over Saïx was because I fell in love with the guy. "What're doing here, Twink?"

He shrugged, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans with his phone. "Came to apologize for being such an ass, I guess. I shouldn't get mad at you. I mean, you've been through a lotta shit. All I've been doing is fucking around and trying to make money at McDonalds, of all damn places."

"You're not going to college?"

He sat down on the box, picking up the laser and beginning to play with Cricket as he spoke. "I ain't got the money for college. You got it easy, Ax. You got some fucking talent that earned you a full ride for four years at a state university. If I was lucky, I'd have the money for community college. I mean, c'mon. You know I'm broke as fuck. I'm practically homeless and I ain't got shit worth for talent that'll get me a free degree."

That was true. Roxas lived with eight other people in one of the shittiest homes in Harlem (which was definitely saying something) and they ate most of their food at a local shelter. If they were lucky, they could have ramen once every few weeks. Every last one of them were working, even the elderly couple, which were steadily making their way into their nineties. They made barely enough to keep rent, electricity, and keep up with medications. Roxas spent as much time as he could out of that house, crashing at mine whenever I was home. It wasn't a surprise for him to slip in through my window and to find him next to me on my bed in the morning. My mom always referred to him as my little stray puppy, but she didn't even know about half the times he had spent the night, slipping out the window again before we could even offer any breakfast. Whenever my mother did know about him staying, she would always cook up some lavish meal for him to take home and share. He rarely accepted and, when he did, he never ate any of it for himself. He was selfless to a fault, and I always joked about how that would be his downfall some day.

"Do you work today?" I asked, trying to derail the conversation from dangerous waters.

He gave a slight nod before he pulled out his phone to check the time, his other hand still moving the little red dot that Cricket was chasing so eagerly. "Yeah, I should get going…"

I didn't say anything, watching as Cricket began violently attacking the wall.

"I'll see you later," he murmured, putting down the laser. "We have a lot to catch up on, now that you're not a zombie anymore. I get off at closing, so I'll probably come by tomorrow and talk your ear off then."

I gave him a small wave goodbye and watched him leave out the window, placing the laser on the box as he jumped out. I had seen him leave like that several times, but for some reason, it seemed to bring back a wave of nostalgia to me. It reminded me of my high school years, where the only thing that mattered was keeping my head above an E and keeping my cigarettes hidden from my parents. Back then, there was no death, there was no depression. Just me and Roxas, not noticing how much the world was changing in front of us. Not noticing how old we were growing and how past relationships would come back to haunt us. It was thoughts like those that made me long for the scientific miracle of a time machine, just so I could go back and never let Saïx leave my side like he did. But this wasn't back to the future. This was the real world, and the real world is a dark place.