Hey minna! Sorry for the huge gap between chapters. School started on the 8th and I've been running like a chicken with my head cut off. Gee, that's s scary and weird picture. - Thanks for all the great reviews. I feel so loved. Ok, just one thing: the third chapter that I uploaded was the first draft of the second chapter that I thought that I had lost due to my total lack of smartness. Please see AN's from two and three for the whole story as I do not want to go through it again. I just thought that I would clear up that little piece of confusion. Oh, what about WELCOME TO MY ROMANCE as a title? Feedback onegaishimasu.

KloudyReignfall: Thanks for your support! And I also have the FAKE mangas. I really enjoyed the last chapter of the 7th book ::g::

I just got the 2nd Gravi DVD and it's pretty good, kinda fast-paced compared to the plot in the manga. I like the manga better, I think it's more erotic when Yuki and Shuichi kiss. He he, I'm so etchi.

Ok, on to the REAL chapter threeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Disclaimer: nothing belongs to me,

Pretty Shuichi--- Two Forces Collide

Around seven o'clock on Friday night

Shuichi yawned as he left his tiny apartment and walked out onto the street. He put his black messenger bag over his shoulder and proceeded to head towards the center of Tokyo, Nittle Grasper's Sleepless Beauty on his lips. It had been six months since his first encounter as a male baishunfu. He had moved out of Hiro's a few days after their confrontation, but they remained close friends and band mates. They even had a gig at Zepp Tokyo that weekend and Shuichi had several new songs that he wanted to go over with Hiro before then. He was even thinking about doing a few English songs and he needed Hiro to do the translations. Things had been going well with his side job as well. He had many 'clients': mostly repressed businessmen he met at bars just like the one where he had met Yamane, although Yamane had been hardly repressed. They would go to a seedy hotel and Shuichi would do what they wanted, for a price of course. He had found a small apartment over a book store and had enough money to pay bills and splurge on some new equipment for the band.

If anyone asked him, he would say that he was happy, and he would probably smile and offer a stick of his ever-present strawberry Pocky. On the inside though, behind that bubbly and often too-hyper exterior that many people, including many clients, found too intense, Shuichi was afraid. He had heard many scary stories about what happened to bishie baishunfu when the lights went out. A few had been assaulted, and one killed on the job. Shuichi went out on the weeknights terrified. He really wished that he and Hiro still lived together. But he didn't want to burden Hiro, especially since Hiro made it clear that he did not approve of what Shuichi was doing. One of the only times that Shuichi stood up for himself was after their initial fight, when he said:

"It's my body Hiro; I can do this if I want." Hiro had stood down, mildly impressed at how the singer stood up for himself. That sudden boost of confidence was all that Shuichi needed to begin his own life.

Lost in his own thoughts, he stepped to the curb. He wasn't watching where he was going and thus did not notice the sleek black Mercedes Benz turning sharply onto the street. It was going at an insanely fast speed, its imported tires screaming on the pavement. Shuichi pulled out his pink cell phone and pushed the speed dial for Hiro. He put the phone up to his ear just as he stepped onto the street. It was then that he happened to look up and saw the black behemoth come screaming towards him. The singer shrieked and jumped back onto the sidewalk, his opened bag went flying, all of his belongings went flying as well, just as the black car screeched to a halt, driving up onto the sidewalk, mere inches from the bishie, leaning at an angle on two tires then it dropped back onto all four. Shuichi had fallen backwards, landing on his rump, dropping his cell and bruising his elbows and back. Papers with half finished lyrics, demo tapes, Pocky, and other assorted items, including a Ryuichi Sakuma Fan Club membership card, were scattered around the singer. He blinked once, blinded by the headlights, then realized what had happened, and scrambled to grab the papers before they flew away. One sheet, with some of his best lyrics on it, fluttered away and landed on the Mercedes windshield, getting stuck in one of the windshield wipers.

The car door opened smoothly and two black patent-leather Armani shoes stepped out of the driver's seat and onto the pavement. The driver's black Armani pantsuit fell into place as the driver came out of the car. Shuichi looked up at the driver, the words FUCK OFF BAKA! on the tip of his tongue, but when his head stopped spinning and he actually saw the driver, the words died in his throat. The man standing there with his arm leaning on the driver's side door, a thin cigarette hanging from his thin, stern mouth, was the most beautiful person Shuichi had ever seen. He was tall and lean, with wheat blonde hair, a fair complexion, sharp, yet feminine features and...the most beautiful golden eyes the bishie had ever seen. Those eyes were intense, burning a hole right through the singer. Shuichi felt something stir deep inside him; it was like two vaporous hands had erupted from the man and was pulling the singer toward the driver from hell. He felt heavy, like gravity itself wanted to make the two men one.

Now, it must be said that Shuichi never considered himself to be gay. The whole male baishunfu thing was just a way to pay the bills. He had been on dates with girls all through high school and beyond, but they felt that he was too immature. With the girls he had dated, there had been no spark, nothing more than surface interest in any of them. But, with this man, this total stranger that just tried to run him over, he felt his heart swell with an adoring love that scared the bishie on many levels, but two were the most dominant:

1. The person that he fell in love with was another man.

2. The person that he fell in love with was another man.

All right, that's the same reason listed twice, but it really scared Shuichi. Could he be gay? He was always a little feminine, and had been mistaken for a girl many times, but could he really be?? Reeling from his inner revelation, Shuichi just sat there in awe of the man.

The man's piercing golden eyes scrutinized the boy in front of him: taking in the slim, girlish body, the lipid purple eyes, the soft, cherry-pink mouth, the pink-pink?-hair, and the dumb expression that the boy currently had on his face. Without missing a beat, he reached out a slim hand and plucked the paper from his windshield, holding it delicately with his fingertips like it was a piece of garbage. He squinted at the paper for a few seconds, his golden eyes scanning the lyrics. Shuichi stared at the man and waited. After what seemed like hours, but was only minutes, the man took the cigarette out of his mouth and blew out a thin stream of smoke into the air. He took one more look at the paper, and then turned to Shuichi who was still on the ground. "Did you write these...lyrics?" the man asked. His voice was rich and velvety, and it caressingly washed over Shuichi like warm water. If he had not already been sitting down, he most likely would have melted at the sound of that voice. It took Shuichi a moment to find his voice and finally he managed to squeak out, "H-hai." The man crumpled up the paper and tossed it in front of the fallen singer. "This is crap. You call this a song? You have the writing ability of a four-year old." With that, the man turned and walked back to his car and got in. The engine revved and the car quickly backed up and got onto the street. The driver took no time in gunning the motor and continued down the lighted street, wheels screeching as he turned another corner. The only sound was the blare of a horn from another car that came across the Mercedes' path. Shuichi sat there, speechless, his purple eyes filling with tears at the beautiful man's harsh critique of some of his best work. All he could say was "Demo..."

Phew, that was a long one; I hope you all enjoyed it.

Until next time. Ja!