AN: Sorry for the long wait! I'm not very good at writing romance and therefore was having many struggles with this chapter. Hope you like it anyway!


Age Twenty-Three

It all starts slowly, so very slowly.

In the weeks following the Misham trial, though Prosecutor Gavin appears to be just his usual self, Apollo senses that he is just acting, trying to conceal the damage the last few months have done to him. First, Apollo doesn't know what to do. It's clear that Prosecutor Gavin needs some kind of comfort, but he is not sure if he's the right person to help him – they barely even know each other and it is still him who's responsible for the incarcerations of Prosecutor Gavin's best friend and his brother. Then, one Sunday, when he's taking his usual evening walk through People Park, he spots him sitting on a bench, his head buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking slightly, as if he's… sobbing.

Not really knowing if he's doing the right thing, Apollo walks over. "Um… hello?"

Prosecutor Gavin doesn't seem to hear him.

"Prosecutor Gavin?" Apollo hesitantly lays a hand onto his shoulder.

"Ah!" His courtroom rival immediately jumps to his feet. "O-Oh, H-Herr Forehead! You startled me!"

He hastily wipes at his cheeks and puts on his usual glamorous smile, but Apollo still sees the wetness of tears on his cheeks and his red-rimmed eyes.

"Are you alright?" Apollo automatically asks, but scolds himself for it immediately after. What a stupid question!

"Ja. Why shouldn't I be?" Prosecutor Gavin is still smiling, but Apollo's bracelet tells him the truth.

"You mess with your hair when you're lying."

Prosecutor Gavin looks caught and lowers his hand that has been fiddling with a loose strand of his braid that is identical to the one his brother wears. He laughs nervously. "You got me there, Herr Forehead. How is it that you always catch people's nervous ticks so quickly?"

Apollo ignores his attempt to change the subject. "If there's anything I can help you with…"

"I'm afraid there's not," Prosecutor Gavin cuts him off harshly, but then immediately looks remorseful and apologetic. "I'm sorry. I should not have – "

"No, it's alright. I can understand." It is his fault, after all. He has done this to him. If it wasn't for him, Mr. Gavin and Mr. Crescend would not be…

"Don't do that." Prosecutor Gavin seems to have read his mind. "Please don't blame yourself."

"But I – "

"You did nothing wrong. Kristoph and Daryan chose their paths for themselves."

Apollo lowers his gaze. "Still, I'm sorry."

"Ja, me too."

For a moment, they're both silent.

"I want to help," Apollo says.

Prosecutor Gavin laughs humourlessly. "I don't think you can, Herr Forehead. My brother is gone, and nothing's going to change that."

"Well… yes, but… I could help in other ways, you know. Like… comforting you, we could meet for lunches or watch movies together…" Apollo notices that he's starting to ramble. "…I mean, like… I would like it if we could become friends…"

Prosecutor Gavin's eyes widen. "What?"

"Not if you don't want to, of course!" Apollo adds quickly, dropping his gaze. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to presume – "

"Nein, nein, I… I would like that very much. Being friends with you, I mean."

Apollo looks up. "Really? B-But… Prosecutor Gavin, if you're not sure, then…"

Prosecutor Gavin smiles shyly, shakily. "Call me Klavier. And I'm sure."

Apollo feels his face heat up. "O-Okay. So, um… friends?"

This time, Klavier's laugh is genuine and full of joy. "Ja, Herr Forehead. Friends."


It marks the start of a wonderful friendship. They often meet for lunch or coffee, text each other basically the whole day through, and more and more, Apollo gets to know not rock star Klavier Gavin and not Prosecutor Gavin, but the man hidden beneath those masks and the glamour of his fame; sees his intelligence, his humour, his genuine warmth, but also how easily he gets frustrated, his almost workaholic tendencies, and his exaggerated need for perfection when it comes to his music. It's this version, he decides, that he likes the most – the real Klavier Gavin, with all his flaws.

And then, slowly, the nature of their relationship changes; Apollo starts stuttering when Klavier smiles at him and Klavier starts blushing whenever Apollo laughs about his jokes. The moments where they are both smiling and just silently gazing at each other become more and more frequent. And eventually, one day, when they are taking a walk in People Park together, Klavier suddenly stops and looks at him. He's more nervous than Apollo has ever seen him, biting his lip several times before blushing and hesitantly taking Apollo's hand in his, a timid and questioning expression in his eyes, the meaning of what he is trying to say clear as day. Apollo stares at him, shocked, so shocked that Klavier apparently feels the same way – why does he, Apollo is nothing special, Apollo is plain, ordinary, who in their right mind would even consider – that he only realizes he hasn't given a reaction at all when Klavier's gaze turns slightly sad and he tries to retreat his hand.

"No, don't!" Apollo exclaims and grips tightly onto his fingers.

Klavier's eyes widen and his cheeks flush even more. "You… too?" he whispers, a trace of uncertainty in his voice.

A sudden rush of courage rises within Apollo and he stands on his tiptoes and brushes his lips against Klavier's in a brief, shy kiss. "Yes."

Klavier stares at him, his eyes filled with wonder. Then, his face breaks into a brilliant smile, full of pure happiness and love, and Apollo's eyes flutter closed when Klavier gently cups his face in his hands and rests their foreheads together. He sighs, wraps his arms around the taller man, feels his warmth, breathes in his scent, and, for the first time in many years, feels like he has come home.


Over the next few weeks, Apollo constantly feels as if he's living the life of another. The intensity of the feelings he holds for Klavier is something he has never experienced before; it's overwhelming. He cannot recall ever loving someone so much, trusting someone so much.

It scares him.

After all, he has a knack for trusting the wrong people. Everyone he has ever trusted has ended up betraying him in the end. He really should have learned his lesson by now – trust only means giving another person the power to hurt you.

Klavier is different, a voice in his head keeps telling him and his heart fully agrees. Klavier would never betray or hurt him. Would never discard him, like Dhurke did, or lie and manipulate him, like Mr. Gavin and Mr. Wright did. He should be ashamed of himself, for even just thinking about Klavier like that when the other would obviously trust him with his very life.

And yet, the doubt remains; hidden, but present in the way Apollo holds himself back from telling Klavier things that he fears would give the other too much power over him or make himself appear strange. He hates himself for it. Klavier doesn't seem to have any problem with such things. When he puts on his reading glasses for the first time in Apollo's presence, he shows only a little bit of insecurity and a hesitant glance towards Apollo which turns into relief when Apollo smiles at him and says that glasses suit him. He appears to be completely at ease with being seen as he truly is, with all his faults and vulnerabilities. And it tears Apollo apart to see it, to see Klavier so comfortable, so open, when he himself is the complete opposite – closed up, distrusting, always holding something back. Klavier gives and gives, and Apollo takes and takes, but never gives anything in return – he wants to, but he cannot; he fears rejection, fears it so much.

"You know, I've realized that I actually don't know very much about you, Schatz," Klavier says one evening, after they have been discussing Klavier's brother and childhood for a while. "What about your family? Do you have any siblings?"

Apollo tenses. Memories of Nahyuta flash across his mind – his laugh while pulling him outside with him, "C'mon, ono'ro mit-sa, let's go play!" and then his angry, cold gaze and sharp words, "You're only with us because you've been so bad your real Ata'oji and Nahna'oji didn't want you anymore!" – and he shakes his head.

"No."

He ignores his bracelet which is insistently clenching around his wrist and adds: "I never had a family."

Klavier furrows his brow and looks at him with sympathy and concern in his eyes. Maybe he suspects that Apollo is not telling the whole story, but if he does, he doesn't let it show. And Apollo rests his head against Klavier's shoulder, guilt and self-hatred boiling inside him, thinking about how he really doesn't deserve this kind, brilliant, amazing man.

Another afternoon, they visit the street food market together, and suddenly, Apollo spots a stall that must be new, because he has never noticed it before – a stall with a wooden green sign proclaiming proudly: "Khura'inese Sweets and Snacks".

Apollo gasps and dashes off to it without another word, leaving Klavier so bewildered it takes him several seconds to follow him. When he has finally caught up to his boyfriend, Apollo is already in a deep conversation with the seller – and speaking in a foreign language he has never heard before.

Later, when they get back to Klavier's apartment, Apollo's wallet is considerably emptier than before and his arms are laden with paper bags full of all kinds of sweets. He lays them on the kitchen table, then turns around to the other man who is leaning against the doorframe and smiling at him, warmth and genuine interest twinkling in his blue eyes.

No. He cannot bear it anymore. No matter what, he needs to tell him, needs to be honest and open, just as Klavier is with him. If Klavier is to reject or hurt him, so be it – he just cannot continue like this anymore.

"I grew up in Khura'in."

The words have burst out of him before he could have stopped them. Klavier looks at him, eyes wide and surprised.

"I'm sorry," Apollo mumbles, averting his gaze. "I'm sorry I've been so… secretive."

He hears Klavier approach him, then he is pulled into a gentle embrace. "You don't need to apologize, Schatz. You've done nothing wrong."

Apollo buries his head in Klavier's chest and remains silent.

"So, you're Khura'inese by birth then?" Klavier asks, curiosity evident in his voice.

Apollo pulls back and shakes his head. "No. My parents were American… at least, I have been told they were." He sighs and sits down on one of the kitchen chairs. "It's a long story. And you might think me weird afterwards. Are you prepared to hear it?"

Klavier settles himself in the chair across from him, takes both of his hands in his and squeezes them encouragingly.

Apollo takes a shaky breath and begins to speak.

He tells Klavier everything. He tells him about his biological parents; his father, the musician, who died while trying to save him from a fire, and his unknown mother who has never even tried contacting or finding him. He tells him about growing up in the Khura'inese mountains with Dhurke and Nahyuta and about how he was sent away to America at age nine with the promise that Dhurke would come pick him up. He tells him about how he waited for Dhurke in the group home for months and years, but he never showed up or contacted him again. And he tells him about the strange eyesight condition he began to develop at about twelve years old, the fears about going crazy and how it only stopped after Mr. Wright and Trucy taught him what this focus was and how to use it.

Klavier just listens, not interrupting him even once. When Apollo has finally finished, he feels lighter, as if a heavy weight has been lifted off his shoulders, and he only feels the wetness on his cheeks when Klavier reaches out and gently brushes the tears away.

"But do you really think Dhurke just wanted to get rid of you, Schatz?" he asks. "You said you were being persecuted by the regime and he is a wanted man over there… maybe he just couldn't make it without risking getting caught. I don't think he would leave you like that on purpose, you're his son after all…"

"I don't think he ever really thought of me as his son," Apollo says scornfully. "No father would ever treat his son like that. He sent me to America under the pretence that it wasn't safe in Khura'in for me anymore. Let's assume he was being truthful and really did only send me away because he wanted me to be safe. Then why didn't he send Nahyuta as well? Nahyuta was in even more danger than me, being his biological son and all. But no, he only sent me. Why? Because he never ever planned to come back for me at all. The whole thing about Khura'in not being safe enough for me anymore was just an excuse, a lie. In reality, he just wanted to get rid of me."

"I don't know, Schatz. You can't say for certain. He could have been caught by the Khura'inese regime years ago, for all we know. And then, he truly would have been unable to come back for you."

Apollo shakes his head. "I've kept up with the Khura'inese news through all those years. He's fine, Nahyuta as well. Nahyuta's even become a prosecutor a few years ago and now works inside the regime's very own court system." He laughs humourlessly. "Really, it doesn't sound as if it is as dangerous over there as Dhurke tried to make me believe…"

Klavier frowns, but says nothing. Apollo sighs.

"I've never told anyone about all this before, you know," he says hoarsely. "Not even Clay."

"Because you feared you would be seen as weird?" Klavier asks softly.

Apollo nods, biting his lip. He opens his mouth, but Klavier seems to already know what he is about to ask.

"I don't think you're weird, Schatz," he says, pulling him into a firm hug. "I think you're perfect."


A few weeks later, Klavier, after announcing over dinner that he has found something that might interest Apollo, presents him with a Discman and a CD.

Apollo frowns and eyes them suspiciously. "Is this another one of your older songs that you think is 'acoustic enough' that I might like it?"

Klavier laughs. "Nein, nein. It's a song from one of Troup Gramarye's albums."

"Troup Gramarye? They had albums? I thought they were magicians, not musicians."

"Ja, they were. But they had songs in their shows as well – those were usually performed by guest performers. And when they started getting really popular in the early 2000's, they started publishing soundtrack albums, containing all of the songs and pieces performed in their shows." Klavier pauses and opens the Discman, putting the CD inside. "You said your biological father was a musician, ja?"

Apollo nods slowly.

"Well… I asked a few of my old friends in the music business if they have ever heard about or known any works from a musician with the last name 'Justice'. They all said no… but then, yesterday, one of them said that he had done a bit of digging – and that one of the Troup Gramarye's first soundtrack albums include a song from a performer named Jangly Justice."

"Jangly Justice?" Apollo echoes, eyes full of doubt.

"I think it's his stage name, Schatz," Klavier says gently. "I asked my friend if he could give me a copy of his song," he gestures at the Discman, "I thought you might want to hear it?"

Apollo looks stunned. He doesn't move at all, just stares at the Discman.

"You've said you have never even seen a photo of him," Klavier continues nervously, "so I… I thought it would be nice if you would at least be able to listen to his voice…"

"Are you sure it's him?" Apollo whispers, so softly that Klavier can barely hear him.

"I'm sure, Schatz."

Slowly, ever so slowly, Apollo reaches for the earphones, staring at them like he has never seen such things before, and then putting them on. When he presses 'Play', his finger shakes slightly.

The soft sounds of a guitar fill his ears, then, someone starts to sing – and all at once, Apollo's throat feels constricted, because it's really him, that soft, warm voice that sounds so achingly familiar and that, he realizes, has always been somewhere in his deepest, earliest memories – now it's clear, so clear, it's his father, and when the song finishes, he feels like he could continue listening to his voice for years and still not have enough.

"Did you like it?"

Apollo cannot answer, cannot speak, but Klavier seems to understand him anyway.