Galaxies
Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters = © Capcom. I don't make any profit from this story.
Unless otherwise stated, the lyrics that appear in this story are written by me, specifically for this fic and are story-relevant.
Main pairings: Vergil x Lady, implied Nero x Kyrie, implied Dante x Trish, implied Dante x Nevan, eventual Dante x Nero
Warnings in general: Contains uncomfortable topics like anorexia and bulimia, abuse, domestic violence, depression, self harm, drug abuse and sex.
Warnings for this chapter: mentioned anorexia and bulimia, depressing stuff … bad language... I guess?
A/N: Yeaaaaah... is anyone still reading this? If you are, just let me explain really quick what happened: … . . . um basically, life happened? Not sure if you want any details but let's just say that everything's a mess at the moment so I unfortunately can't guarantee any regular updates, sorry.
To that one guest review: Thanks a lot, I'm glad you're liking the story so far! Also, one little thing – I'm a girl. Just wanted to point that out ^.^''
Track #6: Eridanus
Warnings: mentioned anorexia and bulimia, depressing stuff.
"Mom?" Nero stepped into Diana's lab, regarding her curiously as she stood in front of her examination table. He almost forgot what he wanted to ask when he saw what she was doing. "What's … that?"
It looked like dark silver mass in a small can, the substance foreign and alien. And the scary thing about it was that it seemed to move.
"Magnetic thinking putty", Diana replied, "I bought it because I thought it would help me with my paper about black holes but playing with it is just too much fun."
Nero stepped closer, watching as she put a small silver magnet into the metallic substance, the little square slowly but surely being devoured by it.
"C'mon, grab a magnet and have some fun", Diana said, giving Nero one of them. "Just let it drop into the putty."
Nero smiled at the silliness of his mother but did as she said and they both watched as the substance devoured the magnets.
"Mom, can I ask you something?", he said then, already bracing himself for a negative answer.
"Sure, what is it?" Diana closed the can and put it away, leaning onto her desk. She looked up at Nero, putting a stray lock of dark brown hair behind her ear. It bounced back immediately.
"A friend invited me to join his band on tour this fall", Nero said, "Can I go?"
Diana chewed her lip, once more fumbling with the stray curl that just wouldn't stay in place. "Which friend?"
"He's called Dante and we met at a concert some time ago", Nero replied, purposely avoiding to tell her just how they met. "And well, I guess we sorta became friends. Last time I saw him in person though was at the festival I went to with Kyrie."
"Why didn't you tell me about him before?" Diana raised a brow, her mouth a thin line. She didn't like it when Nero kept things to himself, especially about his friends. It only led to trouble.
"I was kinda busy, Mom", Nero pointed out, "Studying for finals and stuff."
She nodded in response. "Right …" Now she was twining the loose lock around her finger, seeming to ponder what to say next. "But Nero, what about your plans for after school? Or college?"
Nero felt as if he was freezing on the inside. But there was no way he could keep it to himself any longer. His shoulders slumped, his voice dropping to a murmur. "To be honest, I don't know what to do yet."
Diana's eyes widened. "Well, why didn't you tell us then?"
"I thought you'd be disappointed …" Nero bit his lip, too nervous and ashamed to look at his mother.
She pulled him into a hug – which looked slightly bizarre since Diana barely reached Nero's shoulder. "Oh darling, we'd never be disappointed by you", she assured him, "Though I'm seriously asking myself why you didn't ask us for advice. Don't you have no idea at all what you want to do after school?"
Nero shook his head.
Diana sighed. "Then I guess touring around and seeing more of the world could help you."
That statement made Nero grin widely in happiness.
"Oh, but not so fast, Mister", Diana warned him, firmly grasping his bicep and shaking Nero out of his sudden daydream. "There are some rules. No drugs, no getting girls pregnant, no 'living like a rock star', got it?"
Nero nodded eagerly. "I promise."
"And after that tour, you will have a plan of what you're gonna do with your life, okay?" Diana raised her hand when Nero tried to protest. "You don't need to have your entire life planned out but try finding out what you want, Nero. Find the direction in which you want to go."
"Will do, Mom", Nero said, once more hugging her tightly. "Thank you so much."
"Oh, and I'll leave it to you to tell that to your father."
Nero grunted in response. "Fine."
But much to Nero's luck James didn't react as bad as he had predicted. His father actually encouraged him to accompany the band on their tour, though he made the same rules as Diana for him. Nero smiled. No drugs, no sex, no pretending to he was a rock star. To him, this was no problem. He almost bounced on his way back to his room, grabbing his phone to call Dante, feeling incredibly relieved. Loud music could be heard as Dante picked up before it was paused suddenly.
"Hey", Dante said, his voice sounding strangely tired.
"Am I interrupting something?", Nero asked cautiously. "I just called to tell you that my parents said yes."
Dante's mood was slightly lifted by that. "That's a good thing to hear."
Nero frowned. "Hey, are you alright over there? You sound … strange."
"Got into a fight with my father", Dante replied dryly. "He's kinda angry at Vergil and me for having success, I guess."
"Why's that?", Nero asked completely astonished. "Doesn't he support you?"
Dante sighed. "Well, our parents do support us – the only thing they don't like is us trying to be professional musicians." Dante rolled his eyes, wandering back from his stereo to slump onto the bed. "Dad always wanted Vergil to become a lawyer – just like him. But he never talked about career choices with me and I kinda lost my shit about it today."
Nero's frown deepened, finding it strange that Dante seemed to shrug it off just like that. "But you are professional musicians already", he retorted stubbornly, "You've recorded an album, you're going on tour this fall – I mean, seriously Dante, you really accomplished a lot." He scratched his head. "Besides, it sounds as if he wanted you to prove something to him and that is just –" Nero searched for a fitting expression – "wrong."
Dante hummed in agreement. "Can we change the topic? I really don't want to talk about my family."
Nero complied, instead asking Dante hundreds of questions about band life. Time flew by as they talked and when they had been talking for almost two hours when they said goodbye to each other.
Both of them laid awake for a long time that night, eager for the tour to finally start.
Vergil was sure his head would explode. Usually, he was able to handle everything concerning the organization of the band – appointments for gigs and interviews, setting up their recording schedule, making sure their bills were paid … He even managed their taxes. But now, it got a little over his head.
He stared at the screen of his laptop, the numbers and letters slowly diffusing into a black and white mess. Can't wait til we get a tour manager.
Vergil rubbed his eyes, feeling relieved that at least most of their songs were done. The only one still missing was the one giving their album a title but that shouldn't be hard to manage. Lady and him had been working on the lyrics for that for almost a year now so it only was a matter of stringing things together and setting it up. And that quickly – they had a deadline in two weeks in which the album had to be recorded. Then, the design for the CD and merchandise had to be made and they needed to be printed and –
Vergil sank back into his chair. Hopefully this deadline was realistic, otherwise they'd be screwed.
And then, there also was the thing about his new song. Of course, he had to show it to Dante. The sooner, the better.
But Vergil was nervous about that. The song actually was about them and he had no clue how Dante would react to it. There still was a small chance that he'd like it after all. But there also was a small chance of Dante ripping the lyrics to shreds as soon as he was done reading.
Vergil got up a little shakily, walking to Dante's room and knocking despite knowing that Dante couldn't hear it over the loud music that was once again playing in his room. He was surprised to find his brother laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, a weird, silly grin on his face.
"You alright?", Vergil asked, raising his voice over the loud music.
"Yeah", Dante replied, sitting up. He pointed at the sheet in Vergil's hand. "What's that?"
"Lyrics." Vergil sat down next to Dante and handing him the sheet. "Tell me what you think about it."
Dante raised a brow, quickly reading through them before staring at Vergil who couldn't read the look at his brother's face at all. Well, a lot of confusion was in it and also something else.
"You … you wrote a song about us, didn't you?", Dante asked, sounding completely amazed. "This is definitely about us."
Vergil scratched the back of his head. "Listen, I wanted to –"
"I've been working on a song that perfectly fits to this", Dante continued, interrupting Vergil. "Trish and me have been writing on it for about a year now but it never seemed right with all the other lyrics but this –" He pointed at the paper. "– this finally fits."
This magically went much better than Vergil had feared. "You … like it?" He still was almost afraid to ask.
"Well, I kinda do", Dante said, smiling at him before huffing out a laugh.
Vergil quirked a brow in question.
"I would've never expected this from you", Dante explained, "Isn't it strange how we drifted apart in the last few years?"
Vergil hummed in response, looking around in Dante's room. "Care to show me the song on your mind?"
Dante grinned, somehow feeling that going through all the shit in the last few weeks was worth it after all. They spent the afternoon together in the practice room, the song coming together fairly quickly. It had some strange sense of nostalgia to it, the twins getting along much better than usual, feeling reminded of better days when life was much easier.
When Dante went to bed that night, he was smirking from ear to ear, convinced that he had finally reached a turning point in his life where things could only get better.
One week later
"Goddamn Nero, you look like a wreck."
"Thank you", Nero replied dryly, accepting an energy drink from Kyrie who sat down next to him. "I'm nervous, okay?"
She chuckled. "You've been acting like this ever since we got back from the festival. Calm down now, you did just fine on the exams."
Nero opened the can carefully, taking a few sips. "That's not really helping."
Kyrie rolled her eyes. "They'll announce the results soon and it's not gonna be as bad as you imagine."
"It better be, I worked my ass off for this." Nero set his drink aside and got up from Kyrie's bed, wandering up and down in her room. "My parents expect me to study, even though I have no clue what I could possibly study."
"You still have all time in the world to figure that out", Kyrie ensured him, watching him as he moved around.
"What are you going to do?"
"A gap year", Kyrie replied, noticing that Nero froze at her answer. "Working at the church, leading the choir, organizing events –"
"Wait, since when did you plan on doing that?"
Kyrie stared at Nero. "Not sure? Maybe since we started senior year?"
Nero knew it was dumb and selfish but he was angry. Angry that Kyrie never bothered to talk with him about the future, never offered to listen to him like she used to, never even showed interest in anything that wasn't personally concerning her. She changed so much during the last year, turning into an unkind and indifferent person – the opposite of the girl she had been before.
The atmosphere was ice-cold suddenly. Kyrie looked at Nero anxiously. "H-hey, are you alright?"
Nero shook his head, leaving the room without another word, the door snapping shut behind him as he almost ran out of the building.
He knew he had no valid reason to act like this, no reason to get upset about Kyrie figuring out what to do with her life while he did everything he could to keep her from falling into the abyss.
Wait – then again, he did have a reason. Didn't she unconsciously kept him from figuring out his own problems? Months ago, Nero found it sad they didn't talk about the future, about what would happen after school, but now, he felt stupid, betrayed and angry.
Yes, he should have spoken up himself, ignore that Kyrie was uncomfortable with that topic, just should have taken more time for more important things instead of letting himself be dragged into clubs and venues by her.
Nero stopped at the bus stop, noticing he ran all the way back. His head was swimming, Kyrie's voice still ringing inside his head. Some time ago, he planned out his life with her, convinced she'd always be there, convinced that things would never change.
Learn your lessons, pay attention in your full-time informal school called 'life'.
Nero rubbed his face, knowing exactly where that line came from. In the last few weeks Dante and him had texted each other almost every day. Occasionally, they'd also call each other, both of them equally excited for the tour to start.
Dante also provided Nero exclusive previews of their upcoming album, and Nero found himself really liking the music, listening to it and slowly but surely even memorizing the lyrics and the sound patterns.
It seemed silly but Nero looked forward to being on the road so much, yearning to just leave behind the city in which he was born. He wanted to see more of the world. It didn't even matter that he didn't know if it could actually help him figuring out what to do in the future, his main goal was to clear his head, to be spontaneous and adventurous.
Nero smiled a little to himself despite the slight sinking feeling in his stomach. What would happen to his and Kyrie's friendship now? Would it survive after school or was that it? He bit his lip. The thought alone hurt – they had known each other their whole lives after all.
Loneliness set in so suddenly that Nero felt nauseous for a moment. Out of all his friends, Kyrie had been the only one who had always been there – well, at least until last year. Leaving her behind was hard and almost impossible but what would happen from here was a big question mark to Nero.
Dante blinked in confusion as the music in his headphones was silenced, his mouth hanging open comically as he just opened it to sing. "What did I do wrong this time?", he asked into the microphone, noticing that both Trish and their producer Lindsay were narrowing their eyes at him.
"You sound off", Trish said, waving about with her hand as she tried to explain it.
"Something's missing", Lindsay added, "It's as if you're …"
They looked at each other, Dante still not getting what was going on.
"You sound too happy", Trish finally said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You're singing the song that gives our album its name, so try to sound a bit more aggressive."
Dante rolled his eyes and raised his hands in a calming gesture. "Alright, got it. So, right from the beginning …?"
"Nah, take a break. I'm gonna listen to that again."
He exited the booth he'd been recording in, grabbing his water bottle and taking a few sips. It was their last day of recording, the album was almost finished. The only song left to master was the one where his vocals were still missing.
Dante hummed a tune to himself, grinning even wider. He couldn't help but be happy since everything was going so smoothly out of a sudden. Only a few more weeks and then, they'll be on the road for almost four months. Dante couldn't wait for it to finally start.
He stepped closer to the girls, waiting for Trish to press the play button. Loud music resounded from the speakers, the violin in the intro sharply cutting through it before Dante's clean vocals could be heard.
"The heart is a universe,
Your bones are constellations …"
They listened to it before Trish got up and walked up and down in the room, lost in thoughts. "We should finally decide on a title for the album."
Lindsay's jaw dropped. "You have no title yet?"
"Galaxies." The girls stared at Dante as if he lost his mind but he just shrugged in response. "Why the hell not?"
Trish smiled a little, pulling out her phone. "I'm gonna ask Lady and Verge about this. We continue where we left off in a few minutes."
She left the recording room, leaving Dante and Lindsay alone. Lindsay turned to him, raising a brow. "How did you come up with this out of a sudden?"
"A friend inspired me", Dante explained, feeling a smile tug at the corners of his lips. "We talked a lot about the Universe and shooting stars and it kinda got stuck in my head."
She nodded slowly, thoughtfully chewing her lip. "A close friend?"
Dante grinned. "Yeah."
Lindsay couldn't help but notice the light blush on his cheeks but decided to keep her mouth shut. Whatever it was that was going on in Dante's head, it clearly was a nice change.
Loud shots could be heard from the television as another monster was shot in the head. Guts and blood splattered on the screen as Jake destroyed some more enemies, Nero watching him play but not really paying attention to what was happening. Too much was going on in his head, the tension from earlier today still not gone.
He snorted when the protagonist of the video game suddenly grew spikes and giant, crab-like hands as Jake sliced his way through a wave of monsters. Then, Jake unleashed some moves that looked way over the top and made Nero laugh.
Jake chuckled, pushing up his glasses. "What? Never unleashed your own dark side and smashed some skulls?"
Nero shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Wait, are those fire-spitting clowns?"
As if on cue, the whole screen was filled with fire. Jake sighed, pausing the game and putting his controller aside. "Maybe it's time for a break." He grabbed his can of beer from the table next to him, taking a sip. "So, you seem a bit distressed. What's going on?"
Nero shrugged, his hands twitching. "I guess finals stressed me out a bit."
"What about Kyrie?"
"What about her?", Nero asked back, a little sharper than intended.
Jake raised his hands in defeat. "Just asking, man. You never told me what exactly happened at that festival, you know?"
Nero bit his lip. "Well, nothing between me and Kyrie for sure."
Jake's eyes narrowed. "What?" He set his beer aside, leaning closer to Nero with an expectant look on his face. "Did you meet someone else and finally moved on?"
"It's not like that …" Nero struggled to explain, not sure if he should Jake just what exactly happened. "Well, I did meet someone new but she has nothing to do with this."
"What's her name?"
Nero rolled his eyes. This conversation was going into the wrong direction. "Her name's Storm but that's not –"
"What kind of a name is that?", Jake interrupted him.
Nero coughed. "Really? What about you and Jenna? 'Jake and Jenna' sounds like some kind of sitcom."
Jake shrugged nonchalantly. "I'd watch it."
Nero shook his head, taking a can of beer from the sixpack next to the couch.
"So, what about that girl?", Jake continued asking.
"Not much. We exchanged numbers, we talk sometimes. But that's still not what I'm trying to – okay, wait." Nero scratched the side of his nose, feeling a blush spread on his cheeks at the memories that suddenly resurfaced. He stubbornly looked into the other direction when he saw Jake's grin.
"Now I'm really curious. Come on, man, you can tell me!"
Nero was still reluctant about this whole thing, regretting he started talking in the first place. "Well, remember when you called me to ask where I was –"
Jake nudged his side. "You banged the bassist of DMC, didn't you?"
Nero blinked before bursting out laughing. A few seconds later, he wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye, still giggling. "Not quite."
Jake's eyes widened. "The violinist?"
"No!"
"Well, what else happened then?" Jake readjusted his glasses again, a hand running through his curly hair, making it even more shaggy than usual. "It's not like you banged the front singer, right?"
Nero froze, Jake's jaw dropping. "Or did you? Or … I don't know, did he bang you?"
"Could you stop using that word?"
"Well, could you just tell me what happened?"
"Okay, okay! I uh... made out with Dante."
It was deadly silent for half a minute. Jake nodded slowly, studying Nero attentively. "You know, that's the last thing I expected."
"Yeah, me too."
They both laughed in response, easing the sudden tension.
"Anyway, I'm gonna accompany DMC on their tour this fall", Nero said, Jake wriggling his brows.
"That's gonna be interesting." He crossed his arms over his chest, pouting a little. "Man, I'm jealous. I'd love to tour around with them too." He sighed a little over-dramatically. "Instead, I'm going to work my ass off for the next two years."
"Any other plans?"
"Moving in together with Jen." He smiled a little to himself, Nero patting his back.
"That's great!"
Jake nodded, his smile wavering slightly. "The thing is that I'm worrying that I won't be making enough money to provide her anything …"
"Money is not everything", Nero pointed out.
"But financial security –" Jake interrupted himself, sighing. "I'm not sure myself why I'm worrying about this. I'm barely out of high school and yet, listen to me. I sound like an old man."
"Now that you mention it … didn't your parents want you to go to college?", Nero asked curiously.
"Yeah but to be honest I have no desire to go there just now", Jake replied. "I think I need a break from all this studying. And money."
"And your parents are okay with that?"
Jake shrugged. "It's my life, not theirs."
They fell silent for a while, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Then, Jake huffed quietly, laughing to himself.
"I still remember the first day of high school. It feels so weird that everything is over now."
Nero nodded in agreement, staring at the TV where the video game they've been playing still was paused. "Any regrets?", he asked.
"Many", Jake replied, "But whatever. It's over." He drowned his can of beer, setting it aside. "Time for life to actually start."
Glasses filled with champagne clanked together as the band celebrated. Some days ago had been heir final day in the studio, commissioned an artist for their CD artwork, started to print their posters and t-shirts and their stage decorations. Everything was on its way, the preparations for the tour almost done and all of them felt relieved by that.
They were sitting in the band's practice room – the garage of the Sparda mansion, the stereo playing some old school hard rock while the band members just took some time to relax, talking about this and that.
"Hey Lady, tomorrow's your photoshoot for Force Edge, isn't it?", Dante asked.
Lady nodded. "Though I still have no clue what they possibly want from me."
"You write our lyrics, maybe they're interested in what's going on in your head", he said, sipping on his beer and pulling out his phone, grinning as he saw the new message from Nero.
"The Unseen turned out great, can't wait to hear the final version!"
Lady shrugged, frowning lightly at Dante's goofy expression. "Maybe you're right."
On the next day, it turned out that he had been right. But before anyone could ask any questions, Lady had to slip into the outfit she was photographed in – it was a simple white dress with no decorations whatsoever. At least it was long enough to cover up the trail of scars that started around her knee and went up to her inner thigh …
Also, she got a ton of jewelry – spiked armbands and a collar with lots of silver chains. Though Lady freaked out a little when she was given a harness made out of small leather straps that she was supposed to wear over the dress. Fortunately, it didn't look too much like S&M as she had feared when looking at it but she still felt a little strange in it.
After that, she went to the makeup room, leaving it after two hours with a thick layer of makeup on her face and her hair straightened and styled. Somehow, that made her feel even more dolled up and alienated from herself but much to her relief, the shoot didn't take too long, maybe one hour in the least.
Lady was photographed in an old, abandoned Victorian style house, a large and heavily ornamented mirror next to her on one side and some old wooden coach wheels that were mounted onto the wall on the other side. The photographer was much nicer than the one who made the photos for their album artwork, even asking Lady whether she wanted her scars to be edited or not.
Now, Lady was sitting opposite to her interviewer, a girl that seemed one or two years younger than herself. She was just getting started in journalism but Lady was impressed by her level of professionalism. Their interview was about to come to an end though.
"In your lyrics, you're talking about war very often", she stated, "Does it have a deeper meaning or do you simply like using this metaphor?"
"It's no metaphor", Lady retorted, "Life is war, to live means to fight. For some, it might be easier to make your way through life and for others it's harder but in the end, it really doesn't even matter who you are or where you come from. I'm a fighter myself and if there's one thing I can tell any of my fans it's that they always have to keep on fighting, no matter what happens." She absentmindedly traced the deep scar on her wrist, her personal reminder to never give up on life.
"Our generation likes to romanticize suffering", she continued then, "Either that or you're indifferent to it, even to your own problems. It just washes over you and you let it happen. But why? I just can't take everything life decides to throw at me – it's my life so if I want to change it, I do."
The interviewer smiled at her. "That's an interesting line of thought. Okay, final question: how did you get your nick name?"
"Dante, our vocalist, gave it to me the first time we met", Lady replied, laughing at the memory, "He asked me for my name and when I told him I haven't got one he just called me Lady. It's a lot less spectacular than people would expect."
They said goodbye to each other then, Lady waiting outside the Victorian style house for Vergil who would pick her up.
"How did it go?", he asked once Lady closed the door of his car and buckled up her seat belt.
"It was quite nice, actually", she told him, looking at the road as he pulled out of the driveway, giving him a short summary of the photo shoot and the interview.
The corners of Vergil's mouth curled up into a tiny small. It was barely there but Lady still saw it. "That's good to hear."
The rest of the ride was spent in comfortable silence.
"You've been quiet the whole evening." Kyrie looked up at Nero who had his arms around her waist as they danced together at their prom, the song slow and mellow. They stuck to simply slowly turning around with the beat, both too occupied with their own thoughts to do more.
They both already had planned out their summer – Kyrie would start her gap year while Nero got himself a job to make some money for the tour and for college. It was a pretty boring one in a warehouse but it didn't really matter to him since the payment was okay.
"What have I done wrong this time?", Kyrie continued tiredly then, her fingers on Nero's shoulder twitching. Hell, she wanted a cigarette so bad right now, forcing herself to abstain. Her mind still counted the days since her last nicotine dose.
"Nothing", Nero mumbled, "I was angry at myself, not at you."
"Why?"
Nero tightened his hold on her. "I'm not sure where our friendship is going now", he confessed, "I'm not sure where I'm going in my life and that thought scares me."
Somehow, it felt good to finally have said that, to finally talk to her after he has kept his mouth shut for so long.
Kyrie pulled Nero closer, hugging him and laying her head on his shoulder. "If there's someone who will always find his way it's you, Nero", she said confidently, "I know things have been hard in the last year and that you've been the only one who could deal with me and all the shit I did and –" She breathed in deeply – "I can't thank you enough. And believe me, whatever happens – we'll always stay friends."
"Is that a promise?", Nero asked and she nodded eagerly before whispering "Yes, that's a promise."
And Nero wanted to believe it so bad, despite knowing how many promises Kyrie had already broken in the past, forcing himself not to think about it.
They finished their dance before walking outside to get some fresh air, both feeling relieved and anxious at the same time. Kyrie shivered a little, Nero pulling her in for a hug. He had imagined prom so differently, thought that if he was lucky they'd be a couple by now but somehow found himself being glad that things turned out different in the end.
"Did I already tell you how handsome you look tonight?", Kyrie said with a smile, carefully running her hand through Nero's hair.
He smiled in response. "Did I already tell you how pretty you look tonight?", he said cockily, making her blush.
Kyrie wore a long, ivory dress with golden trimmings, the fabric thin and silk-like. She had her hair loose and it was slightly waved with just a few hair clips to keep the strands from getting into her face.
Nero frowned lightly. The dress seemed a little too big for her, hung loosely around her petite frame. She was way too skinny and he really hoped she would be alright in their time apart.
"Will you still text me when you're on tour?", Kyrie asked into the silence, looking up at Nero, her eyes big and hopeful.
"Of course I will", he replied, "I'm there whenever you need me."
She shook her head. "It's time I learn to be less dependent."
Nero chuckled. "Hey, call me whenever you need me", he said, "Doesn't matter when, even if it's in the middle of the night."
"How can you not be tired of me?", Kyrie asked with a bitter laugh, "Nero, I –" She bit her tongue. I want you to stay in my life, no matter what it takes. "I want you to be happy and enjoy the tour."
She smiled at him, a sincere smile that reached her eyes. "Don't worry about me. Focus on yourself and …" The smile turned slightly mischievous. "… maybe also on somebody else." She wriggled her brows and Nero blushed a little, knowing exactly who she meant.
"You gave Dante my number", Nero stated.
She nodded in response.
It then hit Nero that Kyrie was the one who made this possible. Without her, Dante wouldn't have called him and invited him to join Devil May Cry on tour.
Nero didn't question why she did that, pulling her closer and almost crushing her in a tight hug. "Thank you", he whispered, knowing that somehow Kyrie had found a way to make up for everything she has pulled him through in the last few years.
Kyrie hugged him back, feeling her heart throb painfully in her chest. She was happy for Nero but also she knew that her life was going to be much harder without him. But then, she started trembling, trying to hold back the sob that made its way through her throat. The tears followed a second later.
Nero startled, letting go of her. "Are you crying?"
"No", she retorted stubbornly, trying to turn away when Nero tried to lift her chin.
"Yes, you are", he said, pulling her into another hug. "Don't be sad. We'll always stay friends, no matter what." He gently stroked her back, trying to ignore how sad this made him himself. Why was this feeling like a goodbye? They'd see each other again.
"You promised", Nero added, his voice a choked whisper.
"I know", Kyrie said, holding tighter onto him before abruptly letting go. She got a tissue out of her purse then, rubbing her eyes. "Heh, I'm so emotional tonight. Sorry."
"It's alright", Nero assured her with a weak smile. Prom indeed had been much different from what he had imagined.
Summer passed quickly. Nero was so busy he didn't actually realize how time flew by until it was two days until the tour would officially start.
To say he was excited was the understatement of the century. Tomorrow, Devil May Cry would pick him up before driving to the first gig on the list. Somewhere on the road, they'd meet Storm.
Nero was quite happy to see her again but even more happy about spending more time with Dante. His brow twitched at that thought. Just why was he so eager to see him again?
Yes, okay, they became good friends in the last few months they've spent texting and calling each other. Dante also promised Nero to show him the studio in which they usually recorded their songs and to teach him how to play the guitar.
Nero noticed his heartbeat had picked up when he thought about Dante, his cheeks heating up as well. He still wasn't sure what exactly that meant. Maybe he'd find out once they actually were on the road.
Texting Dante was fun though, especially since Dante's phone usually would switch to autocorrect, making their exchanges much more interesting.
There was one time where Dante complained about Vergil's plans for the band. "We're working day and night, I'm barely leaving Verge's dick anymore", followed by "DESK. I MEANT DESK OH DUCK", which again was followed by "FUCK". Nero almost laughed his ass off. Until he slipped up as well.
"So what are you doing?"
"Furiously masturbating for the tour."
"Excited much?"
Nero froze when he realized what his phone had done. He normally checked his messages before he sent them, hastily clearing up the situation. "PACKING." How did his phone even get "masturbating" out of that?
"Need help?", was Dante's answer.
" … getting off?" Confusion.
"I actually meant packing but okay."
Nero's face had burned in embarrassment at that but Dante had shrugged it off nonchalantly.
But spending time with Dante wasn't the only thing Nero was looking forward to. He also liked the other band members, liked having discussions with Lady and Vergil or to listen to Trish and Dante jam together. And the best was that he got to see them play every night. Of course, he still had to work at the merchandise stand but still.
Nero let himself fall onto his bed, staring at the ceiling of his room, a wide grin on his face. It's been years since he felt so happy and free. He was done with school and was finally free to do what he wanted. Life couldn't possibly get any better now.
But besides keeping in touch with Dante, Nero had also developed some sort of friendship with Storm. She had the habit of calling at strange hours though, mostly in the middle of the night. Nero didn't mind being woken up that much, listening to Storm as she told him about the things she was seeing while she traveled.
"Is there a reason you're constantly on the road?"
"I can't stick around anywhere for too long", she replied, "Otherwise I get paranoid."
"Paranoid? Why that?"
"Do you always ask so many questions?", she laughed. "My turn now. What did you do today?"
"Worked half-time, helped my dad out in his carpentry –"
"Your dad is a carpenter?", she cut in, sounding surprised.
"Not quite", Nero said, "He's a tax adviser. The carpentry is an old family business but Fortuna finally arrived in the 21st century and the furniture doesn't sell too well. My dad and my uncle are now closing it, making renovations to sell the building. Maybe it will be a store but dad says architects are interested in turning it into an expensive loft or something."
"Fortuna, Fortuna …", she whispered, "Nope, I have no clue where it is."
"It's close to the coast", Nero explained, "I guess it used to be a fishing village. And there are a lot of deeply religious people here."
"Religious, close-minded people?", she inquired.
Nero hesitated. "Well, we have some radical idiots here and we have the old typical Fortunians who usually keep their opinion to themselves and tolerate Atheism to a certain degree. There's a lot of change going on here."
"Change is nice, right?"
"I don't know, Storm", he had retorted, "Change can be good or bad but in the end it only means things are different."
She had laughed at that. "You do philosophize a lot, don't you?"
"You called me in the middle of the night, I'm basically still asleep", Nero had growled in reply.
"Means you're in bed right now?", she asked, Nero thinking she was sounding a bit … weird.
"Yeah."
"What are you wearing?", she rasped before breaking into laughter. "Haha, sorry, I had to."
Nero chuckled, shaking his head. "So, where are you right now?"
"Right now? Far away from you", she said, sounding as if she was sulking. "Oh yeah, there's a small organizational thing I wanted to ask about the tour. Woodcrest is somewhere close to Fortuna, right? I'll be around there soon and I guess I could stay there until the tour starts. Can you pick me up there?"
"I guess", Nero replied, "I'm gonna ask Dante about that."
"Dante …", Storm repeated, "So, what has he been up to today? You tell me about him literally each day."
"They organized their merch today and loaded it into the bus", Nero replied, "Though he still didn't tell me anything about the album besides sending me a few preview tracks. He didn't even tell me the title, it's supposed to be a surprise."
He heard her giggle on the other line. "I don't really understand what's going on between you two."
"What do you mean?", Nero asked, flinching away from his phone.
"I remember the way you stomped over to him at Hellpit. You looked ready to kill him", she explained, "But now you're friends?"
"It's complicated", Nero said with a short laugh. Complicated didn't even come close. "We've had our differences but once we got to know each other, it changed, I guess."
Nero felt warmth creeping up his cheeks as he thought about how exactly their relationship to each other had changed. Damn it all to hell, why am I blushing now?!
She hummed in response. "Alright, so you're gonna call me back tomorrow?"
He smiled a little, his thoughts in an entirely different place. "Yeah, I will."
Kyrie couldn't believe how much stuff actually fit into her small room. Now, she was throwing everything out that was school-related, emptying all her folders and arranging all her old books in stacks. By now, she had been cleaning for at least four hours and still was nowhere done.
She tiredly sank to the part of the floor that wasn't covered in papers and books, her hands twitching.
I'm not going to smoke. I'm not going to smoke. I'm not going to fucking smoke.
At least it's been about a week when she purged the last time. She obviously still had trouble eating regularly but lately, Credo had discovered what was wrong – or at least he had a strong suspicion about it –, not letting her go after dinner for at least two hours.
Kyrie was thankful for that even though it was quite annoying. But at least Credo still cared enough to do this for her.
She sighed, leaning against the side of her bed. Her room in this apartment was tiny compared to her old room in the house she had grown up in. The walls hadn't been a neutral white but a soft pink, and it had been much more spacious. She had been able to kept only a small part of her old furniture – the canopy bed she used to have was too big for this apartment so Credo had to sell it, just as her old closet. The new furniture was quite simple, no carvings whatsoever and meant to be more practical rather than decorative.
Kyrie thought it wasn't her style at all but she had no choice but to adapt.
She looked around once more. The shelf where she had kept her books was mostly empty now, only some history and romance novels remaining at the top. There also was a framed picture of her and Nero where both of them were smiling into the camera, Nero's arm around her waist as he pulled her in.
She sighed quietly as she stared at the picture, her stomach tightening unpleasantly. Her eyes closed as a sudden wave of nausea swept over her. Kyrie blamed her bad eating habits for this, and maybe the stress she went through in the last few weeks. Or maybe she just had a bad day.
She huffed, angrily staring at the floor. I've been having those bad days for years.
Then, she got up a little shakily, taking the one to her closet. Kyrie had also used this opportunity to clean it out, finding many things she hadn't worn in years, mostly because she had grown out of them. She held an old pair of jeans to her legs, realizing they've become almost two sizes too big for her.
She swallowed hard as she was once again reminded of what her bulimia and anorexia had done to her, her thumb brushing over the button of the pants. In the next second she slid out the sweatpants she was wearing to try on her old jeans, startling as she looked at herself in the mirror. The jeans were slipping down her narrow hips, her hipbones sticking out unnaturally. Kyrie breathed in and out unevenly, her fingers twitching again.
No, I'm still not going to smoke. Stay strong, you can do this.
She narrowed her eyes. There was something between the side of her closet and the wall … She tied a belt around her hips before pulling the object out.
It was an old record, the cover almost unreadable. Kyrie carefully pulled it out of its cover, mindful not to scratch it. The faded label on the record itself wasn't helping either.
Dad used to have a gramophone … Kyrie wondered if it was in their basement, they kept a lot of stuff from their old house in there. She didn't ponder it for too long, getting her keys and making her way down.
Actually, Kyrie hated being in basements. She hated the dark, the cold and especially the spiders and cobwebs that were everywhere. But her curiosity had won this time.
She navigated her way through the small room, the faint light from the single light bulb on the ceiling barely enough to see anything. Nevertheless, Kyrie found the gramophone: it was hidden under a white sheet. She carefully blew away the dust before putting the record in, turning the crank and waiting for the music to start.
It took some time until the static noises vanished and when the song itself started, Kyrie stiffened.
"Oh, Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side …"
She knew that song, knew the lyrics and melody by heart. Her father had listened to it many times, singing along in his full bass. Listening to him sing had been one of the reasons she started singing herself.
"The summer's gone, and all the roses are falling
It's you, it's you, must go and I must bide."
Kyrie raised her voice with the next verse:
"But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh, Danny boy, oh, Danny boy, I love you so."
She sobbed, blinking away the tears that were in her eyes.
"Kyrie, come and sing with me."
She sprinted into the living room, her father catching her before she could fall.
"Careful there, darling." He set her down again, brushing over her hair. "Or else you end up hurting yourself."
Kyrie breathed hard, her voice trembling as she sang along.
"And if you come, and all the flowers are dying
If I am dead, as dead I well may be –"
Her voice cracked but she kept going nonetheless.
"I pray you'll find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an 'Ave' there for me."
By now, tears were rolling down her cheeks, her heart hammering in her chest. There were just too many things that had crashed down onto her at once in the last few weeks.
"And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me
And all my grave will warmer, sweeter be."
Her voice broke, and suddenly, she was on her knees next to the old stereo, barely registering the song coming to its finale as she cried.
"For you will bend and tell me that you love me
And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me."
Silence filled the basement after that, the old record only emitting low sounds of distortion.
"You're getting better", her father had told her after they practiced together and Kyrie had beamed in joy.
"It's because you're my teacher."
It was not only the stress that was getting to her but also her body craving to feed her addiction. Her stomach growling because she was denying it food, her mind uneasy because she suddenly had so much responsibility.
Kyrie wasn't used to watch after herself, had grown used to Credo and Nero watching over her but she knew that needed to stop. Maybe spending some time apart from them would help her.
Either that or I'll end up dead.
Kyrie trembled, the thought of leaving Credo behind making her feel sick. He'd be the only survivor of their family then. She couldn't do that to him, never.
It took her about an hour to calm down and she left the basement with the record clutched to her chest, a memory she never wanted to give away.
Credo was already home, busy with making food in the kitchen. Kyrie hugged him from behind, feeling him stiffen under her.
"Are you alright?", he asked, raising a brow and turning around.
She didn't stop hugging him, her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt. "I'm just so glad you're here."
Credo brushed over her hair in response and Kyrie bit her lip, the gesture reminding her of her father so much.
"Are you cleaning your room?", Credo continued his query and she nodded.
"Getting rid of all the school stuff." She rubbed her cheek against Credo's chest. "It's officially time to grow up." Then, she chuckled lightly. "Better late than never."
I'm not sure how to credit the lyrics of "Danny Boy" but they do not belong to me. No copyright infringement intended. Just imagine Kyrie's listening to the version by Mario Lanza...