:Crawls up from under a mossy rock: Hey, it's me again. :ducks empty Ramune bottles: I know that this fic has been on hiatus for quite some time, and for that I apologize. I have been in a Gravi slump: too many ideas and scenarios in my head and having neither the ambition nor the time to put them to keyboard. I want to make this a quality fic, so I kinda psyched myself out. I hope that I can get back on track, but I also want to enjoy writing it. Na no da . I want to finish this ASAP, since I also started a PGSM and Phantom of the Opera fic in addition to this one! So, here is the next chapter; it's a little later than I had hoped, but here it is all the same.

I just bought the last Gravi manga and then I watched the entire series again, and that is what inspired me to act.

Many thanks to my supporters and all those who reviewed and asked about what the hell happened to me, I'm really touched. ☺

All regular disclaimers apply, so don't bug me 8). "The Rage Beat" by Kinya Kotani, lyrics, music and arrangement by Mad Soldiers

Welcome to my Romance Chpt. 6: It's his party and I'll crash if I want to…

Shuichi sat in the leafy green bushes outside the Tokyo Hilton Hotel, his eyes glittering with excitement. Hiro leaned against the cement retaining wall next to the bushes, for as much as he would do for the pink-haired bishie; he was too sophisticated to kneel in the dirt. They watched as dozens of people, mainly young high school girls, milled around the lobby waiting to get in to the conference room where Yuki Eiri was hosting a signing party to promote his new book.

Hiro lit a cigarette, "Mou, Shu, how long are we going to stalk this Yuki cat? It's all you've been talking about for a week. I mean, you even went home to see Maiko, who, as president of the local Yuki Eiri fan club, had his signing schedule. You must be really hot for this guy."

Shuichi stuck his tongue out at his friend, "This isn't what it looks like. I'm not 'hot' for him, I'm pissed as hell. I want to make him apologize for those rude things he said to me." He held up an MD with BL stenciled in pink pen, "I want to make him listen to the finished song and then make him eat it." he grinned wickedly at the mental image.

Hiro put out his finished cigarette. "That's fine with me, but why did I have to come along? I have better things to do than watch you make a fool of yourself in front of a bunch of school girls. I got enough of that in high school. Besides, this isn't good pr for the band."

There was a commotion inside the lobby as a woman in a tight fitting red skirt and matching jacket holding a microphone announced something. The roar from the crowd was deafening as the girls began to descend upon the doors to the conference room. Suichi stood up, pieces of leaves and braches sticking up in his pink hair. "This is our chance, Hiro! Ikimasho!1" the singer cried as he slipped into the lobby and melted into the throng of girls. Hiro sighed and flipped his burgundy hair over his shoulder as he waltzed into the lobby. He inquired at the desk as to the location of the bar and headed to the other side of the lobby. He sat down at the bar and ordered a stiff drink. He easily spotted the top of a pink head and watched with amusement as Shuichi made his way into the room. Hiro lifted his glass in a salute to his friend, "Gambatte, Shu-chan." With that, he drained the glass and waited for the fireworks to begin.

It took quiet a while for Shuichi to get close enough to see Yuki Eiri in person. All the girls waiting to see him and get his autograph got a big surprise. Yes, they received an autograph, but it was a laser printed copy of his signature printed on the glossy photo from his new book. There were no personal pictures allowed, and Yuki's editor, the woman in the red suit, was the one who was handing out the photos. Yuki just sat there, cigarette in his mouth, looking both annoyed and bored. He barely glanced up and the squealing girls as they pressed against the table to be close to him. Many were angered by the callous attitude that Yuki showed to his fans, but the majority forgave him just to bask in the glory that was Yuki Eiri. Each customer only had a few minutes with him, and they did all the talking. They jabbered on and on about how his books touched them, and how he was the reason that they believed in true love. The author seemed nonplused by their gushing remarks and the only movements he made were to tap off the ashes of his cigarette and light a new one when necessary.

Since Shuichi had come in late, he was at the very end of the line, and some others who had just happened by joined him in the back. While he waited, he thought of a bunch of wickedly cool things to say to the cold hearted bastard at the table. He imagined Yuki's reaction would be pleading on hands and knees, kowtowing to Shuichi's greatness with the singer cackling like mad above him. Shuichi must have started cackling out loud, for several girls gave him strange looks and shied away from him. He stood on his tiptoes and squinted above the head in front of him: he was almost to the front of the line; al of a sudden his heart began doing flip flops in his chest. He told himself it was the excitement of getting a chance to tell the author off, but it felt different. It wasn't like when he was little and his parents took him to the mall to see Santa-ojii-sama. At first the feeling was similar to that kind of excitement, but as the line shortened, it felt more like he was about to rejoin with a part of his soul. He had had a nagging feeling in his chest since his fateful first encounter with Yuki; and now he knew what it was. That night, Yuki had taken a part of his soul when he sped off into the night, and now Shuichi was going to get it back. He glanced up; the girl in front of him had just taken the glossy from the editor then bowed with a shaky "Arigato gozaimasu," before scurrying away. He was next. His heart began to flutter as and odd tightening in his groin made him aware of just how excited he was to see this mysterious man again. A quick flush of red quickly spread over the singer's pale cheeks.

He took a step forward, ready to shove the MD into that smug, albeit gorgeous face. Yuki abruptly stood up and walked away from the table, not even bothering to say anything to his editor; he didn't even look up to see who was next. It was if there wasn't a signing going on and he had just sat down with nothing to do and then got up a while later to go on his way. The editor paled then turned red, shooting an angry glance in the direction that Yuki had gone. She turned to the remaining fans that had begun to shout and make a fuss at Yuki's departure. The sudden exit of the guest of honor signaled the end of the signing. Her smile was embarrassed as she forced an apology through gritted teeth on Yuki-san's behalf, mentioning something about him not feeling well. She told them the rest of the photos would be available at the front desk and she thanked them for coming. The crowd grumbled as they began to filter out of the large room. The editor turned to the table and began fumbling with papers, grumbling to herself about "that damned attitude of his". Shuichi just stood there, completely dumbfounded.

The editor soon noticed him standing there. She looked sharply at him, ready to snap at him for not leaving with the others. Her expression softened when she saw how cute he was, even more so with the stricken look that he had on his face. "Can I help you, koibito?"2 She asked gently.

Shuichi snapped out of his daze, "Ano…where did he go?" he asked quietly.

The woman smiled sadly, "He does this, more often now than in the past. People think its part of the whole reclusive angsty writer persona that he puts out. Truth is, he can only take so much of this. He only attends theses things because I make him; my company does, that is. If he had it his way, he wouldn't step foot out his door for anyone even remotely interested in his books.

"He's our best selling client; and he agrees to this every once and a while to increase sales which makes my bosses happy, which makes me happy, and I don't bother him for a few months until his next book is extremely overdue, which makes him happy." She stopped and thought for a moment, "Or, at least as happy as he can get." She smiled and shook her head. "For all his talent, his beauty, he has the personality of a rock. I bet if he were more personable, his fame would skyrocket." She seemed to realize what she was saying and who she was saying it to. She quickly caught herself and cleared her throat. She grabbed a photo and shoved it into Shuichi's sleight hands. "Dozo," she stammered, embarrassed at spilling so much about her secretive client.

Shuichi gripped the glossy in his hands; he stared at those cold eyes staring back at him. He was even more determined to confront this man and get revenge. "Sumimasen kōdinētā-san3, demo, I need to see him again. There's some unfinished business between us." The woman looked surprised, "You've met him? And you want to see him again?" She took the photo back and quickly scribbled something on the back. "Take this, and go see him." Shuichi looked down and realized it was an address. His address. The woman gave him a conspiratorial wink, "Just between us, ne? Don't tell him I gave it to you. I may be his editor, but he'd have no problem killing me if he found out." She gathered her things and went to leave.

Shuichi found his voice before she left the room. "Ano…" he began. She looked back inquiringly. "Doushite? I could be someone dangerous, why are you doing this for me?" he asked.

She smiled, "I've known Yuki Eiri for several years, and I've known you for ten minutes. I think that you two can do a lot for each other." She shooed him out of the room, giving words of encouragement the whole way.

Hiro met him in the lobby. The guitarist asked, "Well?" Shuichi showed him the photo and the address on the back. "Hiro, arigato for coming with me, but I think that I have to go by myself." Hiro clapped him on the back, "Attaboy, Shu. Tell me how it turns out, k?" He winked and strolled out of the hotel, whistling.

Shuichi studied the face staring at him through glossy eyes: that achingly beautiful face revealed little, but from what the editor had said, Yuki Eiri had secrets. She probably wants me to crack the cold veneer of the God of Romance Novels to boost sales, Shuichi thought bitterly. His doubts refused to stick, and the tightness in his belly grew as he weighed his options: he could go home and continue his life of music and prostitution and forget about the author; or he could confront the man, and perhaps begin a new chapter in his life. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the MD and player. He popped it into the MD player and pressed 'play'. His ears were filled with the techno-beat of his song The Rage Beat, its thumping rhythm giving him the drive that he needed.

With a terrified look in the eyes, spit those irritated feelings into the fickle wind
The signal that melted into the cracked roadway is leaving only a scar behind.
He memorized the address, its numbers were forever burned into his mind.
Before the drowsy noise blurs away tomorrow, chase after those ambitiously resounding footsteps.
He dodged cars and people and bikes, he was a pink and black streak blazing across the pavement.
That unfulfillable emotion that never settles down somewhere-- just decide to ignore it, then overtake it.
Aim for the loophole in this shy, trembling society, for the place we keep struggling towards.
I want new world.
If you bare your claws at your swarming anxieties,
you'll be snapped back by unfamiliar lies,
and the unbearable times will adorn the rust-covered roads with agitation
Stuff your bag with nothing but velvet coins.
We don't need a map of the maze-like dreams.
From the tidal-wave's pounding rhythm to the glittering silver passion,
it's all just temptation's strategic pull.
Your fragile eyes beat on the door we can go through as we still keep on searching.
You just a new world I can still hear the accumulated tears carving their paths into Main Street,
warping the sound of those footsteps.
That unfulfillable emotion that never settles down somewhere--
just decide to ignore it, then overtake it.
Aim for the loophole in this shy, trembling society, for the place we keep struggling towards.
I want new world.

He came upon the quiet neighborhood just far enough from the hustle and bustle of the city yet still close enough to be considered trendy. He thanked his lucky stars that it was in an area popular area, since streets and addresses were difficult to gauge in Japan. The high-rise apartment looked bleak against the Tokyo skyline. The grey stones seemed to absorb any light and left the street dull and lifeless. There was one light on in the top floor apartment. The yellow light shone down onto the street, a glowing square the only light on the black concrete. Shuichi stood in that light, but it gave no warmth, his courage was failing him and for a moment, he didn't think that he could go on. He scanned the street for the Mercedes, and when he didn't see it, his heart sank. Yuki wasn't home yet. Shuichi sighed, feeling lost. He stuffed the photo into his bag and headed for home. He trudged along the street, down to the Red Light District that was only two blocks from his apartment. The bars, brothels, and sex clubs were a blur as Shuichi kept his head down, letting the tears of frustration drip onto his sneakers. He barely heard the cat calls from his fellow baishunfu4 and from others wanting to purchase his services. He hadn't been out in a week; his whole concentration had been on Yuki Eiri. There were several regulars who approached him, but he ignored them. He got to the corner that led to his street when he vaguely heard a familiar screech of tires on cement. He looked up to see a very familiar black Mercedes careening down the road. This time, Shuichi intentionally walked in front of it, hoping for a quick death. Only Hiro would be able to see the irony of it all. He closed his eyes and silently said goodbye to the bullshit world and everyone in it. The screech of tires and smell of burnt rubber filled his consciousness as darkness engulfed him. Behind his lids, he could see a bright light. It was so bright, he kept his eyes closed. He felt strong arms lift him up, the feel of cool silk against his cheek. He nuzzled against it, inhaling a scent of tobacco and a unique masculine scent that made him feel all warm and fuzzy. He leaned against something leather and felt as if he were moving very fast. Again, he was lifted up, carried somewhere and then put down. He heard the creak of leather, and then the heaviness of a blanket around his body. His head was lifted and set down on something soft. Shuichi sighed as he snuggled against the softness and dreamt of long, deft fingers stroking his soft hair, dreamt that the smoky voiced, golden-eyed prince from his dreams spoke close to his ear, "I don't understand you..."

Ta da! Well, worth the wait? Tell the truth now! Onegai! Chpt 7 on the way! I swear!

Ok, translations:

1. ikimasho—let's go!

2. koibito – sweetheart (kawaii, ne?)

3. kōdinētā-san—Miss coordinator

4. baishunfu—male prostitute