Klavier was still burning with afterglow on Monday morning, tapping his pencil on the desk with a small smile traced across his lips. His eyes were closed, and he could feel Apollo tugging on his necklace, reaching up for Klavier with something passionate and sudden. His lips were a little chapped, and Klavier's hand was sticking to his hair, sweaty after clutching his hand for so long.

It wasn't the first time Klavier had relived the kiss since the event. He couldn't help but feel as though it was more than an act, or a publicity stunt to move the conference along. Apollo wasn't experienced or devious enough to construct something like that, and the theory didn't account for the fire Klavier had felt from him.

Klavier wanted to believe it was real, but he was weary of letting himself think that. It was probably just fabrication on his end. Wishful thinking.

He'd begun to give up hope when Ema sauntered into his office, munching on a package of limited-edition snackoos. "So."

Klavier turned to face her; not bothering to hide the confused look on his face. He could have sworn she had this time off. "Fräulein Skye? What calamity has lead you to willingly enter my office?"

"Funny, fop." She welcomed herself in, flopping onto the chair in the back and flinging a snackoo at his face. Klavier dodged, nearly slamming his head into the paperwork on his desk. "I'm here to talk to you about your love life."

"Sorry fräulein, I'm taken." This time Klavier was ready for the assault, and he dodged the snackoo easily.

"That's what I mean, fop." She leaned forwards, chewing thoughtfully. "How'd you do it? I thought Apollo had better taste than you."

Klavier sighed, slumping down in the chair. He didn't feel like pretending right now. "Ach, I don't think it's any use keeping this from you. Apollo and I are not actually going out."

Ema's eyes widened. "What?"

"This is a publicity stunt of sorts." Klavier confessed, playing with his fringe of blonde hair. "Apollo and I accidentally slept together after the party last week, and agreed that this was the best way to make sure his court record remained unquestioned."

Ema leaned back in the chair, stunned. "Wow," She mumbled, momentarily forgetting about the snackoos. Klavier was impressed. Making Ema forget about her snackoos was nearly medal-worthy, in terms of news.

Ema sat up and turned to him, a devilish smile on her face. "So, hypothetically, how much cash could I get for thi-"

"Nein!" Klavier shrieked, leaning over and picking a snackoo off of the ground to launch at her. "You can't tell anyone!"

"Hey!" She whipped to the side. "Only I can attack people with snackoos!"

Try as he might, Klavier couldn't dodge five snackoos at once. "Ach! Ok! I'm sorry! Just don't tell anyone!"

Ema seemed satisfied with his surrender, leaning back into the cushioned chair and continuing her snackoos. "Why'd you two sleep together, anyways?"

"Alcohol." Klavier sighed, then continued softly. "Maybe something else on my part."

Ema spat out her snackoos, and Klavier wondered if he could get a combo for surprising Ema with snackoo-related effects. "The glimmerous fop has a crush?!"

"Ach, not so loud." Klavier dropped his head to his knees, clutching at his hair. "But ja, I do. And I'm fake dating him."

Ema burst out laughing. "You can't make this stuff up, can you?"

Klavier laughed too, but far more weakly. "Nein. You can't."

"Why aren't you real dating him?" Ema wondered, munching on a snackoo.

Klavier spun in his chair, toeing the ground. Now there was a can of worms.

"I'm scared," Klavier admitted. "He always seems so flustered, like I'm startling him. I don't want to mess things up between us."

But then there was the kiss-

She laughed. "The glimmerous fop can't find the nerve to ask someone out? Give me a break."

"I'm serious, Ema!" Klavier protested, leaning back with his arms folded across his chest. "This time, I'm serious. I thought I'd messed everything up by sleeping with him, like he was just another one-night stand. Apollo means a lot to me, and I don't want to move too quickly."

Ema swallowed her latest bite. "You should probably say something."

Klavier leaned forwards. "Was?"

"Personally, I'd prefer rejection to this limbo-type thing." Ema popped another snackoo in her mouth. "But I'm no glimmerous fop."

Klavier looked down. "He's basically all I have left."

Ema didn't say anything to that, and for a while the only sound in the room was her chewing. Klavier was beginning to consider leaving the conversation at that and turning back to his work despite her, when she stood up from his chair and walked past him to the door.

"My break's nearly over," She explained, "and I have better things to do than talk to you all day."

Klavier sighed. Back to normal. "Ja."

Ema stopped in the door. "Klavier?"

Klavier was sure this was the first time she had used his name, and most likely the last. "Ja?"

"Why did you tell me all that?" She wondered aloud, arms crossed over the bag of snackoos. "We hate each other."

"Ja." Klavier agreed, leaning back in his chair and brushing his hair back. "That's why I think I can trust you."

Ema seemed confused, so Klavier went further.

"As a prodigy and a celebrity, praise becomes terrifying, in a way."

It was true, everything he was saying. It was a lot to be recognized by nearly everyone you met, people with opinions on you as though they knew you intimately when you'd never seen them before in your life. He was a brilliant composer, he was a trashy head of a boy band, he was a good songwriter but an awful lawyer, and there was always the one who would tell him he was a pawn of his brother. Klavier was something to everyone he met, before he met them.

Then there was the praise. No matter what they actually thought of him, people complimented him. He was a visionary, a prodigy, the hottest man alive, you name it. He was one of the most popular men in the world, and he had no idea if it was different behind his back.

He'd laughed, the first time he'd ridden a motorcycle. He was seventeen and some months, riding a motorcycle on a spur of adrenaline and teenage rebellion against Kristoph. Kristoph had always told Klavier to never ride one, he'd seen enough cases to know they were dangerous.

Klavier was at a red light, the first in the queue when it changed, to the usual chorus of honks as he didn't take off the instant it changed. He'd began laughing hysterically. With his motorcycle helmet on, no one could recognize him. He'd won his first case, toured after his first song went platinum, and he hadn't heard a word of criticism in months (there was apathy from Kristoph, but that was so mundane he'd stopped hoping), but anonymous, people could still criticize him. It felt refreshing.

One man had even passed him, flipping him off all the while. Klavier's motorcycle had taken a swerve at the onslaught of laughter this caused. He was never driving a car again.

It always felt so real when people insulted him.

Klavier's voice began to crack, though he couldn't explain why. "The only people you can trust are the honest ones."

Ema nibbled on another snackoo, and Klavier fleetingly wondered if the bag was endless. "Not to mention the elephant in the room, but you haven't been that good with trusting the right people."

Klavier smiled weakly. "But I can trust the person who tells me that."

Ema shrugged. "Suit yourself. I decided long ago that I'd never understand your foppish ways."

Klavier winked, and she left the room with a grumble. Klavier thought he caught the words impossible, foppish, and useless, but that could have just been him filling in the blanks. Ema's distaste for him did become predictable, after a fashion.