Rock and Romance
Warnings: Not much…
Archived: http:adultfan,nexcess,net/aff/story,php?no544173771 ; http:fiction,gurabiteshiyon,net/story,php?no722 ; http:www,fanfiction,net/s/2199767/1/
Chapter 4
Eiri stood awkwardly in the center of the club, glancing around for sign of his band mates—they had removed the equipment from the stage, which informed Eiri that Fujisaki was serious when he had said, "You're too sick to continue."
Fujisaki was a know-it-all. Eiri wasn't sick, and he was certain that Fujisaki knew that. For all he knew, Fujisaki had some ulterior motive to quit playing after the first song, but he didn't know, nor did he care, what that could be. Best to let little nuisances to their own devices, because he didn't want to have to play mommy and watch the stupid rat.
God dammit…Sadly enough, though, only recently had Eiri started understanding that Fujisaki was, in fact, his only friend. The realization hit him hard when he had been forced to ask to crash at Fujisaki's place. The complaining and chastisement that went along with that was inevitable and endless, but he appreciated it nonetheless. Fujisaki agreed to let him stay, even though their personalities clashed like sandpaper.
"Sorry guys," a voice came over the speakers. Eiri looked up at the stage to see a very nerdy looking guy, decked out in yellow and orange, standing at the microphone. "Bad Luck has copped out on us," this was followed by a great deal of groans from the audience—more than Eiri was expecting—but the announcer only continued. "'S okay, though, you see. We've got our DJ on hand, so you'll still get some music. Besides, we have some more Bad Luck lined up in the future…once the members recover…"
Eiri had stopped listening by this time, having already retreated back into his own world. He was still smarting from the confrontation with Shuichi, as much as he hated to admit it, and the guilt loaded him with visions of the stupid pink-haired brat leaning over the sink with a small bruise already surfacing on his forehead.
It must have hurt. Hitting his head on the faucet like that…
Eiri didn't know why he had been so hostile. He had been glad to see Shuichi again; he didn't know why he had said what he did. He had lost control. Shuichi had been calling out his name… It made him so angry, but he couldn't explain why. He had felt as if Shuichi didn't have the right to do such a thing.
"Stop pouting! You're always pouting like a toddler!"
Eiri turned around and glared before he even registered who had spoken. His dark look came to rest upon his two guitarists, Midori Ryotarou and Tachibana Akira. They both had their cases strapped to their torsos over their jackets, looking about ready to leave.
"What do you want?" Eiri asked venomously, placing his hands on his hips. He held his glare in place, knowing that it was infuriating Midori.
"Where's Suguru?" Midori asked, frowning back at Eiri.
"Hell if I know."
"Why do you have to be so anal? You're so annoying."
"So I've been told."
"Come on, Uesugi. Stop acting like a brat. You're making things worse for yourself, you know," Midori warned, leaning forward and putting up his own glare against Eiri's.
"Whatever. You've known me long enough. Do you think I actually care?" Eiri retorted, his face remaining hard.
"I swear, Uesugi…" Midori spat through clenched teeth as he reached forward and grabbed Eiri's collar menacingly, but Eiri merely continued to glare at him, knowing it would set him off sooner or later…had they not been so rudely interrupted.
"Would you two stop it already?" a new voice called, drawing all three gazes. Fujisaki stood, his hands perched on his waist, as he glared around at them. "Honestly! How do you expect us to get anything worthwhile done if you keep acting like spoiled brats? You're going to tear apart Bad Luck!"
Midori released Eiri's collar and stepped back, but he hardly looked sorry. "We already have! I'm outta here, and so is Akira! I'm not playing with an asshole like this!" He swung his hand out and whapped Eiri's shoulder before quickly dodging the singer's pounce. He smiled angrily at Eiri, and then snatched Akira's arm and hauled the other guitarist away with him.
Eiri stared after them, following with his eyes as they weaved in and out of the dancers towards the exit, until he noticed a dark glare angled in his direction. He turned towards Fujisaki, tilting his head to the side as he looked down at the younger keyboardist.
"You're such an idiot, Eiri!" Fujisaki yelled, looking like he was trying his best not to hit Eiri. "Bad Luck's over now, and it's your fault!"
"What are you talking about? We don't need them. My synth will be good enough to cover a few guitarists."
"No, it won't, Eiri! I can't do that!"
"Of course you can."
"No, I can't."
Eiri rolled his eyes and shifted his weight, letting one hand drop to his side. "Fine then. I'll do it, since you're so inept."
"That's not the problem Eiri," Fujisaki said in a chastising tone. "The synth can only play back one recording at a time. If I play along, that's only two parts. We need three to cover for them. It won't work. We won't be able to play live."
Eiri paused in a moment of thought, frowning even more when he realized Fujisaki was right.
"This band is losing members too quickly," Fujisaki continued. "There's no point in looking for more—you're such a dick, they won't stick around. We might as well dissolve Bad Luck."
"We can't," Eiri said firmly, using his best possible glare in order to make Fujisaki stop.
"Come on! What are we going to do? Maybe it's time to settle down, get real jobs. Give up, Eiri," Fujisaki added, doing the impossible and ignoring Eiri's glare.
"You can't expect me to give up, just like that!"
"I thought you hated singing anyway."
"No, I don't. I love it. I love music. We can't quit."
Fujisaki scrutinized Eiri thoughtfully for a few minutes in contemplation before releasing a smile and letting his eyes wander to the ceiling in a half-assed eye roll. "It's funny. This is the first time I've seen you so passionate about anything. Too bad it's too late."
"Fuji—"
"Ahem. Sorry to interrupt."
Eiri stopped, his mouth still hanging open in the processes of pronouncing Fujisaki's name, readying a glare for the interruption. He turned, closing his mouth, but his angry expression vanished when he laid eyes upon the suit that was standing in front of them. He quickly glanced back at Fujisaki, whom was also staring at the newcomer in a strange sort of confusion.
The man was tall, but normal to the extreme. His black, neatly cropped hair was nicely combed behind his ears, and he stood in a tense position, halfway in a bow, with his eyes lowered to the ground. His most noticeable feature in fact did not necessarily belong to him—he was wearing a light gray suit, not unlike one an office worker would wear, which stood out in the dark, wild club.
"You two are members of Bad Luck?" the man asked, lifting his eyes slightly.
Fujisaki let out a sigh. "I'm sorry. Are you a fan? I hesitate to say this, but I don't think Bad Luck exists anymore."
Eiri let out a small grunt at the words, as if he had been slapped, and earned himself a look from the newcomer, though he refused to meet it.
"Why?" the newcomer asked, sounding almost afraid.
"Our guitarists quit. We don't have a band without them," Fujisaki explained casually, acting as though it made no difference to him, which only ticked Eiri off. Fujisaki lifted guilty eyes to him, and Eiri stared back in warning.
"Well, that's okay, because it was you two I wanted to talk to anyway. You see, I work for NG Records, and I came here looking for you."
Eiri and Fujisaki both snapped their heads to the newcomer, staring at him as if he were an alien.
"My name's Sakano. I'm wondering if you'll reconsider your decision to destroy Bad Luck."
Eiri felt his mouth drop open, though it was halfway trying to form a smile through his look of utter shock.
I can't believe this… Just in the nick of time."How would you like to be stars?"
"I'll show you…"For the first time in his life, Shuichi was enjoying being alone. Sakano was off at work, leaving the apartment solely to Shuichi, who used this opportunity to its fullest. The argument with Eiri the night before had left him sore, and even though Sakano blamed himself for Shuichi's depressed mood (claiming that it was his own fault for not following and comforting him in the bathroom) and had pledged to take better care of him, Shuichi was glad he was gone. Sakano was coming close to smothering him.
"One guy's too close, the other's too far away," Shuichi moaned, lifting his hand up from the covers to trace the edge of his wooden nightstand. The intricately carved designs, newly polished, entertained the tips of his fingers, though he didn't look at them. Now was not the time to be bothering with reality. Right now, he could imagine Eiri exactly the way he wanted him to be, and not the way he really was.
Shuichi looked at the open door, studying it before lightly closing his eyes and imagining the blond singer stalking through it, ducking under the frame, and dragging his feet until he knelt down beside Shuichi's bed.
"I'm sorry, Shuichi," Eiri would say, with an embarrassed smile on his face. "I don't know what came over me. I guess I was just confused. You see, I love you so very much!"
Shuichi smiled, letting his eyelids gently drift open to stare at the ceiling. He sat up and looked around at his messy room, breathing a sigh as his smile softly faded away. It would never happen. Eiri wasn't like that, and Shuichi couldn't decide if he would still love Eiri so much if he were.
Trust me to fall in love with an asshole. I guess it's kind of fun.
Shuichi stood, his oversized nightshirt falling lower around his thighs, and walked sleepily towards the kitchen. He paused as he passed the couch, staring at it and all the memories tied to it. It was still cleared, except that Sakano had draped one of his shirts over the armrest, and it still looked foreign to be clean. Shuichi stared, the memory of Eiri burying him in the cushions surfacing, bringing a tingling sensation to his eyes.
"I don't suppose we'll ever see each other again. I don't want to see you again."
"I saw you again," Shuichi whispered, bringing his shaking hand to his lips. "It was…almost like fate…"
The phone rang suddenly, causing Shuichi to jump out of his thoughts. He glanced over at it wildly, watching it ring away at its place on the coffee table, before leaping over the armrest onto the couch to snatch it up.
"Hello?"
"Shindou-kun, it's been awhile, hasn't it?"
Shuichi's blood ran cold, and his face paled upon hearing the voice. He took a shaky breath, leaning back into the cushions of the couch and pulling his knees to his chest.
"Tohma…"
"How are you doing? Are you well?"
Polite as ever. Shuichi frowned. Tohma was two-faced. The man only cared about himself; it was what sent everything crashing down in Shuichi's life.
"What do you want, Tohma?" Shuichi growled.
Tohma chuckled softly over the line. "Straight to the point, eh, Shuichi? Fine then. I was talking to Sakano earlier today," Shuichi held his breath, "and I understand that you two are having some problems…"
"So what? It's none of your business!" Shuichi cried, almost desperately. He knew better than to let Tohma get involved. Once Tohma was in the game, his affair with Eiri would be instantly uncovered. And, worst of all, that could ruin Eiri; if Sakano found out that Shuichi was cheating on him with one of his employees, well, Eiri was still expendable to NG.
The worst part about it, though, was that if Tohma was really interested, there was nothing Shuichi could do to stop him.
"Calm down, Shuichi. I'm only trying to help."
"No, you're not! If you want to help, stay out of it! I can handle things on my own!" Shuichi yelled. "You'll only make things worse."
There was a long silence that followed that, before Tohma finally spoke again. "How about we meet for lunch? We can talk about this in person…"
If there was any color left in Shuichi's face before, it was gone now. "No… No! Two years ago, I told you no, and I meant it! I don't ever want to see you again!"
Shuichi swung his hand to his mouth when his own words registered in his brain. He almost dropped the phone, and his eyes glazed with horror, gathering tears that would never fall.
"Look, I told you no, and I meant it. I don't ever want to see your face again, do you understand?"
You're right, Eiri, Shuichi thought, blinking back tears. You told me I know nothing about love, and you were right. Once, what I thought was love turned out to be something completely different. Is it the same with you? Am I wrong about my feelings for you, too? Is that why you hate me so much?
"I'm sorry, Shuichi. I have to go," Tohma's voice returned to his ear, and Shuichi blinked himself back into reality. "I have a meeting scheduled with a new band. I must hang up now, but please, just know this: I'm still your friend, okay? I'll watch out for you."
With that, the line clicked dead, but Shuichi remained where he was, frozen stiff, clutching the beeping phone to his ear. He wondered how many things he could actually keep from Sakano. He had…never mentioned Tohma before either.
The cushions of the couch seemed to be sucking him in, and Shuichi only relaxed his body in response, allowing himself to be buried in the squishy comfort. A sad, bitter smile fluttered across his face, turning his expression cold and grotesque if for only a minute. His eyes glazed for a second before he inhaled sharply and pulled himself from the couch's grip. The cordless phone's beeping was silenced when he pressed the button, but soon enough it started up again, shrieking at him for his attention.
"Hello…?" he asked pathetically with a deep fear that it would be Tohma again.
"Hello, Shindou-san? This is Mizuki. Are you all right?"
Shuichi breathed a sigh and sunk to the floor. Of all the people who could have been calling, he decided Mizuki would probably be the one he most wanted to talk to. She was only an editor, and the two were still on a professional basis, but she was kind and friendly. She was the last person he knew that would ever ask him about his private relationships.
"I'm fine. Sorry, I was just a little bit startled when the phone rang," Shuichi said, smiling at the image he had of her in his mind.
"I'm glad. I have a new promotional opportunity for Rose; there's a book tour coming up that includes a bunch of famous authors, and you've been asked to join. It will last for about two months and end here in Tokyo. I was wondering if you're interested—it's kind of short notice. You'd have to leave on Saturday."
Shuichi found himself relaxing even more from just the melodic sound of her voice—here was a person who was normal, unlike all the dysfunctional weirdoes he managed to get himself mixed up with. Besides, a book tour sounded good. Even though most authors considered them hassles, Shuichi thought of tours as vacations. They spelled the rare break from his decaying life.
"Okay, I'm up for it," Shuichi offered eagerly. "Where are we going this time?"
Eiri lifted the one book he owned closer to his face, biting his lip as he studied the picture printed above the caption, "About the Author." The pink hair looked a little weird in this photo for some reason; Eiri wondered if it was just a bad picture. Shuichi didn't look much like he did in real life.
Shindou Shuichi was born in Tokyo, where he grew up with his parents and younger sister. Although he got bad grades in high school, Shindou was regarded as an intelligent individual. His first novel, Electric, was published when he was a junior in high school at age seventeen. Shindou is currently nineteen and resides in his own apartment in Tokyo. Rose is his second novel.
"Doesn't say anything about his love life," Eiri muttered, setting the book down in the empty chair next to him. He looked up at Fujisaki, who was pacing nervously.
"What is that you keep reading, anyway?" Fujisaki asked, glancing down at the book. He lifted a mocking eyebrow when he noticed the array of pink and red roses that blanketed the cover. "Rose?"
Eiri laughed. "Tell me about it. I spent the last of my money on this piece of shit."
"Why?"
A good question with an answer that, although it was rather obvious, Eiri hadn't quite admitted to himself yet. Eiri merely shrugged in response.
"Whatever," Fujisaki said, taking a seat in the chair next to the one that embraced the book. "I wish Seguchi-san would hurry. I'm about to die here."
"What? We've already been scouted. They asked us to come here. I don't think you have to worry so much."
"You're right, I guess," Fujisaki muttered, setting his chin on his fist. "Poor Midori and Tachibana. They left at the worst possible time."
"It's their fault for being impatient."
"It's your fault for being an ass."
"I don't feel guilty," Eiri muttered. After a brief pause, he quickly added, "About that." He wasn't sure why he felt the need to tack that onto the end of his sentence, but he was certain he did feel guilty. About Shuichi.
"Yeah? What are you guilty about then, huh?" Fujisaki prompted, leaning forward eagerly.
Eiri cursed himself under his breath. He had set himself up for that one, and he knew it. Just his intonation alone had suggested that something was bothering him, and now he would have to tell Fujisaki.
When he opened his mouth to start spilling, his was more than grateful for the interruption.
"I'm sorry it took so long," Seguchi Tohma said from the now open doorway. "Something came up. Please, come in."
Eiri studied the man, the boss of NG, finding himself surprised with his slight build and pretty face. He didn't look at all the monster for which he was famous. Instead he looked polite, gentle, and angelic, even in the way he gracefully strode back to his chair behind his desk. His clothes were wild but tame, weird but fashionable, and ever so stylish. Eiri and Fujisaki awkwardly took their seats, watching as Seguchi sifted through several stacks of paper.
"Can I have your names, please?" Seguchi asked, picking up a pen from his desk.
"Fujisaki Suguru," Fujisaki interjected, shifting nervously. Seguchi scratched onto the paper without even looking up until he was finished, and his wide, innocent looking eyes came to rest inquisitively upon Eiri.
"Yuki Eiri."
Eiri saw out of the corner of his eyes Fujisaki turn to look at him, surprised. Seguchi didn't move to write it down, as he had for Fujisaki, but continued to stare at Eiri.
"Is that your real name?" Seguchi asked suspiciously.
"Of course not."
A smile chased away Seguchi's frown as he chuckled and turned back to his sheet of paper. "Yuki Eiri, eh?" he asked, scribbling it with the pen as he spoke. "I like you. What's your real name? This is for contact purposes, not for public usage."
"Uesugi."
"I understand. Yuki has a nicer ring to it." Seguchi smiled brightly, revealing a perfect set of glittering white teeth behind his full lips. "Anyway, I've been informed that you need new guitarists. We're currently a little short on guitarists… We'll be hiring more soon, but for now, I've only got one free one."
"It's okay!" Fujisaki exclaimed, his voice cracking, illustrating his nervousness. "We can make do with only one for now. We have a pretty good synthesizer…"
Seguchi opened his mouth, looking about ready to speak, but a gentle knock on the door stopped him. He paused a moment, seeming to debate something in his head, before heaving a sigh and calling out, "Come in!"
The door open softly, and the three occupants in the room turned to look at the newcomer. Decorated with only a pair of jeans and matching denim jacket over a white T-shirt, with long brown hair and a pretty, yet masculine face, he looked like the classic rocker. He stepped inside silently and closed the door with the tiniest click.
"Don't worry about that," Seguchi said, turning back to Fujisaki, continuing as if nothing had changed. "Actually, this guitarist was originally going to be assigned to a band that signed on a few weeks ago, but… Well, let's just he's the best we've got, and he'll fit better with you."
"What do you mean, 'fit better…?'" Eiri started, but Seguchi shrugged.
"Yuki Eiri, Fujisaki Suguru," Seguchi said, leaning back deeply into his cushioned leather chair, bending his elbows with his hands cupping the back of his head as if he were trying to demonstrate just how comfortable he was, "this is Nakano Hiroshi. Your new guitarist."
TBC
Notes: This chapter reeks of set-up-ness. None but the best can avoid it, but alas, I've not yet been inducted into such a prestigious society. I ogle at the amount of reviews that a single story can manage to obtain, and I feel empty inside, like a cold, hard…turkey…
Eh-heh… No wonder… Putting that aside, since it made only a very stupid sort of sense anyway, thank you again and again to you reviewers out there.
And, I got my first bad review for this story!!! Yay! And it was a very uneducated one at that: Okay, Amaya, let's first get this out into the open. 1000 yen is NOT equal to $1.60. I don't know what currency exchange rate you're looking at, but maybe you should try something different. When I read your review, I actually went and checked the exchange rate to be sure, and voila. You see, Amaya, when it says $1.00 is equal to 102.03 yen (1/16/05), it means one yen is more or less equal to one penny. Hence, 1000 yen is a little less that $10. Simple math. Also, about the offensive Goth stuff—hate to tell you, but I have nothing against Goths, or any subculture for that matter, not even those "little preps" that you certainly don't seem to like very much. I hope you realize that I put that in there to CHARACTERIZE Eiri. I assumed that people with half a brain, or any reading skills at all, would be able to figure that out (of course, maybe that doesn't apply to you). And as for the story I wrote in Japanese, perhaps you could review that story, telling me which words I messed up; that would certainly be much more helpful than saying it makes no "sence," and leaving it at that. If you have comments on that story, comment on it in that story, because the way you vaguely mentioned it here makes you sound jealous. (If anyone wants to read this review, it's on the Fanfiction Net review page for this story. It's really funny; you should check it out.)
That's probably pretty wrong of me, to reply only to the bad reviews, but I'm sorry. That one was just asking for it. I couldn't resist. I've done review replies in one of my other stories, but I found it to be really difficult to do; Fanfiction Net always takes forever to get new reviews, so I always miss people, and I always feel bad when I do. Besides, I have one response to answer all reviews: THANK YOU!!! I consider your suggestions, if you have them, when I write new chapters, and I love the encouragement you give me when you don't have suggestions. Your reviews are much more appreciated than flames like lovely Amaya's.
One last thing (sorry that these notes are endless): if anyone has any good ideas for the direction of this story, send it in a review. I didn't think I'd even get this far in this story, but lately I've really gotten in to original fiction, so my brain is sore from coming up with so many ideas, and I'm kinda stuck here. Any feedback is welcome, as I hope I made obvious with the last paragraph.
Until next time,
Cassi.