Tachi was resting, mostly because well, he wasn't sure what else to do. So he was sitting on the floor, because it was cool there, because it felt appropriate. He was braced against the bed and he was staring at his backpack slouching against the wall across the small room. He could see the top of the grocery store bag, containing the liquor and condoms, sticking out the top.
He should have just fucked her. At least then he'd have been distracted for a little while.
His cell phone, which was still inside his bag, had gone off a good fifteen times by now. He'd ignored it each time. He hadn't been in the mood for talk. Besides, who could it have been? Ma-kun, with his placating attitude and logic. Logic, who gave a shit about logic? Ma-kun's was always twisted.
And here, it went off again. Tachi's eyes flicked down to the place he knew the phone was in his bag, considered moving towards it and picking up. Why should he?
But he crawled the few feet towards the opposite wall, swung around so that his back was braced against it, and sat down. He pulled it out of the outer pocket of his backpack, and looked at it as it flashed with each ring.
Ma-kun, of course.
He looked at it until it finished ringing, and then when it stopped, he dropped his hand to the ground and leaned back up against the wall and looked across the small room to the unused bed.
He felt as if, the air had weight and texture. He examined the slightly mussed blankets on the bed, traced the patterns created by the individual fibers of the fabric with his eyes. He was drifting, not entirely convinced of the situation, willing to allow himself a little emptiness.
To recap: he was fucked. No way out now, nothing could be made better. Life is all gone. Wonderful, just wonderful, exactly what he hoped to be thinking.
Tachi closed his eyes and tilted his head back, until his head bonked lightly against the wall. He heaved out a long sigh, and that's it. The light was ugly and artificial in the room, and the twin lamps cast a double shadow of his profile against the wall. One was lighter, and one was darker. Minutes went by, and after a while, Tachi couldn't quite take the silence any more.
As much as he felt unable to do anything but sit, he really didn't have a choice but to take some type of action. He couldn't sit on his ass forever.
And anyways, it was against his nature to do so.
He thought at first, that he'd call Ma-kun and get it over with.
But it'd be so much better if Ma-kun called him first.
So then it turned into a waiting game.
Tachi reached into his backpack and pulled out his MP3 player, hit 'play' and waited for it to start up and play the music. He heard a soft scuffle sound as it started to play, and he stared at the Sony label, watched the tiny equalizer rise and drop rhythmically to the beat of the first track. Then the tiny, far away sound of music came out of his headphones, a bass that was too much for the small speakers and a synth melody. Tachi grabbed the cord at the end of the headphones and yanked them out of his backpack, nearly breaking the fragile plastic in the process.
He stuck them in his ears and let the music take over. It was a dance beat, strong and motivating, full of movement, drive, and energy. More than a little unsuitable for the situation, but he liked it. He let the music tell him how to feel.
He liked music better inside headphones.
On the dance floor, he hardly had any time to notice the words of the songs, only the beat. On the dance floor, that's all that matters anyways. That's why you master out the vocals in dance mixes - no one gives a shit about them on the dance floor. If you're listening to the words on the dance floor, you're probably bored.
But he was listening to the words now.
It was a good song.
And he liked music.
And everything good that comes with it.
He wanted a cigarette, but felt too lazy to get up and smoke one.
This song wasn't bad. It had a decent beat, slightly boring words, and a sort of catchy melody. ASK could write a song this good in a heartbeat, Ken was that good. But he'd ripped this song from an album, and they've yet to actually put one to press. So apparently, this band had done something right that they hadn't.
Or -
But he couldn't think about any of that shit. Because the past is dead. Because he felt no regret.
And he was waiting for his cell phone to ring for the sixteenth time. He knew Ma-kun would eventually call. It was tradition. And if everything else was fucked up in the universe, their little trio would still adhere to their traditional "Tachi's fucked up" dynamics.
Because, obviously, they had to be used to having a fuckup in the band by now. They'd certainly had enough time to get used to it.
So it was a matter of patience now.
Patience, and battery life.
He listened to his music, and waited.
-- the conversation
Ma-kun was looking at the phone and trying to decide if his own pride had deflated enough for him to call Tachi one more time. He wasn't entirely sure. He liked having pride, and having to actually call Tachi when Tachi was the one who should be doing all the calling was a little beyond his grasp at that moment in time.
But even as he was thinking, "I won't do it," he was picking up the phone and dialing the number -- just one more time.
Before the first ring even totally completed, and before Ma-kun even expected the phone to be answered, he heard Tachi's voice.
"Yo."
Pause, blink, "Oh." He was caught flat-footed.
"'Oh'? Is that it?"
"Well, I wasn't expecting you to answer. I thought you were pouting."
"Heh," Tachi's voice had a digital static to it, blockish bits were missing here and there.
"Move to a window or something, you're breaking up."
"I'm breaking up." It sounded like a statement, and Ma-kun chose to ignore it.
He wasn't sure what to say.
"I don't know what to say." Tachi said aloud.
"Me neither." Ma-kun answered.
And they both fell into silence. Tachi's phone was digital, so when he wasn't talking, Ma-kun heard nothing at all. He thought for a moment that Tachi had hung up, "Hello?"
"What?" Tachi's voice was a little more irritable.
"Oh," Ma-kun felt better, "I thought you hung up."
"Well, I didn't."
"Yeah, I can see that."
"Hear it."
"Shut up."
And Tachi did.
And Ma-kun did as well.
They both leaned back where they were sitting and sighed at the same time; neither of them had started the phone call with a clear plan or goal.
"Tachi --"
"Yes?"
"I want to see you."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I fucking said so."
"Oh."
And they became quiet again.
"Tachi." And he was stumped.
"What?"
"We need to talk."
"We are talking."
"In person."
"No."
"Fuck."
"Heh."
"God damn it, why are you so fucking"
"Fucking what?"
"Fucking disagreeable."
"I am who I am."
"Tachi, there is no way we can keep you. There just isn't. How stupid do you think we are? We know what happens when bands switch lead singers. It's never the same after that. But let's face facts --"
"Oh, let's."
"We can't keep you."
"I'm your lead." He said stubbornly, gritting his teeth, feeling aggression make its way into his bones.
"Oh, come on Tachi," And Ma-kun attempted to be funny, "You were always worth shit for the band anyways, now that this whole mess is in the air, what else is left for you?" It sounded more brutal than he intended it to be.
"I suppose I could be your bitch, wouldn't that be nice?" The digital static took out tiny, symmetrical pieces of the sentence. I [empty]up-ose[.] I coul[d-] be y[.]r bitch.
Ma-kun closed his eyes and tried to think of a way out of this.
"Isn't that what you want anyways? Huh? Oh, come on, just fucking admit it already. That's what you want. Well fine, why don't you just take it? If it keeps me in the band, I don't care anyways." Ju[-]st admit it [...] that's what you wa[]nt anyway[s]?
He sighed heavily into the phone, and didn't speak.
"Huh. Right. Here I am, offering myself to you. Don't want me anymore, huh? Yeah. I understand. I understand just fine." Tiny symmetrical bites of sound. Tachi's voice lacked substance, it was drained away by the cell phone. "I can't imagine why." And his voice was dry. "Fft."
The silence became an emotion.
"Ma-kun," there was almost a singsong to Tachi's voice. "Why do you want me?" He wasn't hanging up the phone without slicing out his chunk of flesh.
"I don't know."
"Oh, come on. Is it my ass?" There was sharpness to his tone. "My hair? Do you like arrogant bastards or something? Or maybe it's my voice, maybe you heard me sing for all these years and turned into a star fucker like everyone else. Is that it? Are you a fan girl?" And his voice was mean and cutting, "If that's the case, you know how I am with fan girls, right? Use them up like tissue paper. Why not. One, is just like the other."
Ma-kun shook his head and pinched the narrow bit between his eyes, breathed and listened, couldn't entirely figure out something to say. "You're being illogical."
"Illogical." Tachi parroted back sarcastically. "What sort of logic should I apply to this situation, huh? Tell me, since I am so stupid."
"We've known each other for years," Ma-kun started.
"Yeah, so?"
"So, why do you think we've kept you for so long? You're a pain in the ass, Tachi. There aren't very many good reasons to keep you around."
"Oh, I give up, why?"
"We like you. I like you. You're not so bad when you aren't trying so hard to be."
Digital silence, once again.
Tachi let out a soft laugh, which manifested as a blot of static on Ma-kun's side. Tachi shook his head, and said, lowly, "You shouldn't." As an afterthought, Tachi almost spoke of the band, but felt to weary to say anything else.
"Why?"
And a little fissure rent itself open, "What do you mean 'why?'?" Tachi's voice was nearly vicious. "It's fucking obvious why every time I speak, every time I move, every god damn minute I'm alive. There is no reason for me to be here." There [.]s no reason[..] here.
"Don't pull the angst ridden artist thing on me, Tachi. It doesn't work anymore, I'm tired of it, stop."
"Fuck you, OK?"
"No, fuck you. I like you. Deal with it."
"You shouldn't." And this time it was nearly breathless, hard to understand when it was hissed through grit teeth. "It's not healthy. You shouldn't. I'm dangerous. You shouldn't, Ma-kun."
"Why?"
"Because."
"Oh, fuck, Tachi, say something a little more convincing than that."
"Because of what I did." And Tachi let it hit the air, stay there, and hover before he moved on. "Because of what I did to him, to us. Because I deserve this. Because I don't deserve to be in ASK anymore, because ... just, because. Okay? Because this is the end, and I'm tired." He couldn't believe his own words. Didn't deserve ASK? Wasn't he begging for it just seconds ago?
"Tachi --"
"Shut up. It's true." And Tachi was determined now to drive Ma-kun away, "Do you want to know what I did?" What was wrong with his brain?
"I know what you did."
Why did he keep changing his mind?
"No, you don't. Do you want to know what I did? Do you? The details, all the lovely details? The gory, gorgeous details of that fucking transaction? Do you? Huh? Well I'll fucking tell you whether you want to hear it or not." And he was breathing hard, and he felt a little dizzy, and he pushed forwards because this was necessary, because it was too late, because he wanted to horrify Ma-kun. "We." And he grit his teeth and felt something unexplainable inside him. "We, raped him." And he was breathing hard, and he felt dizzy, and he felt beyond control. "We did it." He forced himself to exhale deeply, forced himself to focus. What details should he say out loud first? What could he say that would make Ma-kun leave him alone forever?
But what about saving his career?
But what about being the best?
But what about hating Shindou?
But what about ---
But what about winning?
"The air was so cold." He couldn't unclench his jaw.
But what about...
"The air, was so cold. And I hated him, with all my fucking soul."
But what about, music?
What about...
What about fear?
What about losing it all?
What about being alone forever?
What about losing... what about...
"I hated him, so fucking much. Do you understand that? Do you? Do you know how it feels to actually, honestly, hate something?" He was almost hyperventilating. "It's... amazing."
Why is it, every time he opened his mouth, he was filled with the urge to confess?
"It's amazing, Ma-kun. It's heat, and fire. It's... forgetting everything that makes you reasonable and human. It's lust. And that's what I felt. I'm afraid to use that word anymore, because it means so much to me now. 'Lust.'" He was panting. "And I looked at him, and I heard those fists hit his body. It was... the sound of.... meat. The sound of violence. And I watched those guys hit him, over and over again, and I thought to myself, that hitting wasn't enough. That it wasn't as close to destroying him as I wanted. That I wanted to destroy him. That I wanted to tear apart his insides. That I wanted to be something that went inside him and cursed him forever. That I wanted him to fail. That I wanted him to ache. That I wanted to claw him apart." And he was talking fast, and he had forgotten he was even talking to Ma-kun. And every time he paused, he felt feverish and he'd remember he was on the phone. And he was pressing the phone so hard against his ear, his ear started to ache.
"That I was better than he was. That I was better, and I wanted him to hurt. And I wanted it to last forever. I wanted him to ache when he was alone. I wanted him to pay. So it was my idea. So... we all took turns." And he went vague. "Do you want to know what it sounds like?"
"...no.."
"Just like sex." And he shook his head and looked up. "Just like regular sex. Just louder."
Ma-kun shook his head and looked down, he didn't want to hear about Tachi's dark side. He wanted to forget it was there.
"That's all. Just louder. And, he didn't lay there like a fish when we did it. He thrashed and moaned, like a whore putting on a god damn show." Tachi felt hot all over, felt like vomiting. "And... that's what it was like."
Digital silence, all over again.
"It doesn't seem fair." Tachi said quietly. "It should have sounded like violence. But it sounded just like regular sex."
Symmetrical pieces of sound, missing.
"Just louder."
His voice sounded tinny, echoey from the cell phone.
"That's all, it was just, louder."
Ma-kun felt like vomiting.
"There." Tachi said at him. "You don't want me anymore." -- do[]nn want me anymore.
And Tachi hung up.
And Tachi was right. And Ma-kun felt tired. He got up from his couch, stood up and then immediately sat back down and looked at the floor.
What kind of sick person was attracted to a man like that?
Ma-kun shook his head, and couldn't stop feeling sick. He'd thought he'd accepted it already. He'd thought that he'd forgiven Tachi for it. He'd thought that he could move on without thinking of it.
But apparently, Tachi couldn't get over it himself.
And maybe Tachi was right.
Maybe Tachi did deserve to rot in hell, alone.
Ma-kun wanted to get drunk, quickly, but he knew that it would be counterproductive.
He decided to let Tachi have his theatrics for a few more minutes, and then he'd call back and find out where he was.
But less than a second later, he picked up the phone and called back.
And there was no answer.
And he hung up the phone, and told himself to give up, that Tachi was gone.
And he redialed, and Tachi didn't answer. He told himself that Tachi was an awful human being who probably deserved to be treated like trash.
And he hung up the phone, and then he redialed again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
"God, stop calling." Tachi whispered at the phone. And he closed his eyes. "Stop calling before I fucking answer."
When the phone stopped ringing, he felt relief. He'd won. He was alone.
(What about music? What about desire? What about life? What about friendship? What about winning?)
He was glad. He was glad he won. He was glad Ma-kun had stopped calling. He was glad he was alone. He was glad he finally chased them away.
(What about... what... what next?)
The phone rang. And Tachi squeezed his eyes tight to prevent himself from crying.
(What about winning?)
(What about... Ma-kun?)
And he snatched the phone up on the sixth ring. "What!?" He shouted into the phone. "Stop calling me, god damn it! What do you want?"
"Where are you?"
"No."
Big boys don't cry.
Tachi wanted to lose.
"Come on." Ma-kun said, gently. "Come on, let me be there. Please."
Tachi felt sick.
"Don't do this to me. God damn it. Stop it. Kick me out of the god damn band and get it over with. You pussy, I'd do it. I'd kick you out of NG offered me that kind of money. I wouldn't even think about it. I'd just do it. Fuck you, I wouldn't even consider keeping you an option. You'd be out of my life so fucking fast I'd fucking have whiplash. Stop. Calling."
"Good thing I'm not you."
"Just leave me alone you fucking faggot!" And he thought that right now would be a good time to hang up the phone. But he didn't.
"Tachi..." More patience. "Tell me where you are. I'm going to come over."
"No." And now he just sounded like a boy.
"Yes."
"No!"
"Tachi." Ma-kun's voice was so patient. "Tachi, it's going to be alright. Quit freaking out, and just tell me where you're at. I can't fix anything over the phone."
Tachi hung his head, felt himself wilt.
He was losing.
Maybe sometimes it's not so bad to lose. And maybe sometimes comfort wasn't weakness.
Why didn't he have the strength to resist this? Why did it make him so god damn weak? He'd lost the band, why didn't that matter to him? Why was the idea of Ma-kun coming over at once frightening and desperately needed? Why -- "Okay." And he sounded like a little boy. "Okay." And he felt like a little boy.
Because he was in pain, and he was a human being. And when human beings hurt, they crave comfort.
And Ma-kun was saving him again.
Pathetic.