Lover's Fool

Chapter 4. Breaking the Habit; Clutching my Cure

Disclaimer: Gravitation does not; I repeat does not belong to me. So back off you jackals.

Warnings: Death fic, and Shuichi Angst. Slight lime/citrus and a couple of bad words.

Hey! I'm so happy, I just posted chapter 3 and already I got reviews. I can tell that that you all really love this story and I have requests for the sequel. Sorry everyone but this is not the final chapter. I would like to thank everyone that reviewed though!

My star is mine, I follow it,

For it cannot lead me wrong.

Though tonight, it is a different star I follow.

A star black and obscure to all,

A star that's shine is not mine.

A devil knight it belongs to,

Darkened shadows that will forever fall.

Cast me into oblivion,

I shall not wake from my sleep.

Turn your back to me,

I shall not speak.

Lead me astray with your sinful touch,

Though I shall not sway.

These are the words I sing.

Throw me to the fire,

And I'll let myself burn.

You curse my name, with your devils tongue

Snake bite claim me,

Tearing open my flesh, tasting my skin, sucking my essence clear.

You're my source of self destruction,

Twisting my mind and smashing my dreams.

Pull me by my simple stings, reaper of innocence, you betray,

Master of puppets you're under my skin.

"Glrrrrr," I growl in frustration and tear up the piece of paper that loomed in front of me. All around, balls and sheets of torn paper laid a strewed. Scattered throughout my space of confinement like discarded toys. My stupid scribbles, or so I called them, were taking up than a few sheets of papers. Trying to work in any state or form right now was pointless and my so called "progress" was that of nothing. I would probably have better luck copying them out of a book then trying to come up with anything out of my own head. But that too, would just use more paper.

I had decided that after checking my phone's messages, to kill some time by trying to come with what I called a song. Therefore when I did decide to grace NG Studios terrain again, I would at least have an excuse as to where the hell I had been last three days. That or whenever I did decide to face the music and go to work. It was a good plan, sorta. By now however, it was an idea that I was fast regretting. Just like most things in my frivolous excuse for a life, this act was entirely idiotic. When I did come to the decision to drag myself out of my fortress of solitude to appear, I would simply tell my fellow employees that I had hit a hot spot and was occupied with working on a new song for the up coming concert next week. That way, I didn't have K yelling at me all day and I might be able to leave with all of my limbs intact. A pray that would most likely fall on death ears. But still sometimes it could be classic fun to get a rise out of American manic.

Like they would actually buy that stupid story, but still it was worth a try and I really didn't have anything better to do. Unless you counted rummaging through stacks of porno from 1975 and getting wasted, but those hardly counted as activities any more. And they probably just send me back to the way I was prier three days ago. Of coarse the fault to my plan meant I actually had to write a song. So far, the only thing I had succeeded in doing was making more trash to fill my house and creating myself another headache. Worse of all, I had run out of aspirin.

The very fact that I had reduced myself to lying; just to get out of a pointless and overall pathetic lecture didn't help the way I was feeling. Though I had reduced myself to a lot of things lately. So this very act shouldn't surprise me in the least, let alone hold any sense of foreboding thoughts. But somehow, I couldn't shake the feelings that surrounded me. It was exactly the same experience I felt when I first woke up three day ago. The consuming emotion that I was unfit, not right, deformed. That something was eating at my skin and that every little act I did was fueling its flame. Making me want to scratch it off in the end.

I cross off the words I was writing and violently ball the paper up. Throwing it to the wall just like I had did with the liquor bottle. Only this time it didn't break and I was sober, that and a hell of a lot weaker and incapacitated.

This is stupid; I shouldn't be thinking such ideas. This mental conversation of mine was only going to end in a dead one. I didn't like thinking about these things. I didn't like where they were leading me. That corner of my mind was someone place in which I had no intentions to explore its blurred domain. In it was a place I had closed off from anything and everything that possessed life. In its chambers contained the very feelings that I had once longed to share with my beloved, my Yuki. Love, hate, anger, sadness, desire, all of it. All that I had swelling up inside, was kept locked away in there. My very own Pandora's Box, and I had desire to open it.

My pencil lead just broke, its lead leaving shaving on my paper. I stared at for a second before, " It's so… cliché." I breathe but it was true, don't you think? But maybe I'm not good at spotting these things. If I wanted to right know I could sit here and talk about how I was just like that pencil. Or how I was just like the paper that I tore or even better, how empty and confused I was. That I was so lost, I couldn't even write even a decent song. But I don't want to, words and pitiful cries of depression get old when I stumble upon my delicate sense of topic. Or at least that's my opinion.

Besides, I wasn't well enough to test my abilities by thinking or pushing myself to hard. If I was ever going to go anywhere ever again, I needed to rest. But…I do remember…him calling my lyrics trash all the time. That thought now seems to apply even though I never figured my self agreeing with him. I bet he would laugh if he got a good look at me now. I bet he laugh, if he could see me. I think and I can't stop. As I drop the pencil and being weak to nature, or maybe just true to it, give in and think about a distant memory. I tilt my head back, as the images began their play. "Giving in, was always one of my vices after all."

The rest of the week, or more like two days, I spent working. Hn, that thought makes me laugh. For you see, try as might I couldn't produce a song. It was as if a fog had somehow settled over my brain, preventing any thoughts from escaping or breaking its dense surface. A citadel that was so powerful, that when I felt I was almost completely recovered, I tried to break my block by using my new favorite technique. Grapping a bottle of Jack Daniels, I gulped down a few shots in a hurried haste. Savoring the sensation of it after my brief absence.

I did this for awhile, sitting there trying to write. I had come up with most of my more melodramatic and morbid stuff why either on something or wasted. But to my frustration, I had nothing. The only thing I could do was piece together bits of what I had. Trying to unify them into a working song. Hoping that the others would think it adequate enough. The best thing that I could do right now was enjoy my intoxication and the rest of this fellow called Jack.

I groaned, my head throbbing slightly as I managed to pry my eyes open. I was sprawled out on the couch, a half empty bottle clutched loosely in my hand. Looks like I didn't get too far I thought, as I pried myself off the couch remembering what today was and slandered down the hallway in an uncoordinated grace. The light stung and the color swirled, as did everything else as I stumbled into bathroom. Clumsily staggering into the shower. The water taking forever to turn on and when I turned my head to glance up, to see if it was even on. Onto my head it came crashing down like a frozen waterfall. Right then I got my reminder that I still had my clothes on, and that the Daniels was in my hand.

I stood there for awhile, letting the water run down me. I grabbed onto the bar just in case I fell, I still wasn't trusting of my legs or sight. The water felt good though, as if it was rejuvenating me. Putting something back in me, while washing something away. But I told myself to shut up. The water was just getting rid of all the dirt and the smell of alcohol. No more, no less. Besides my head hurt enough as it did, it was too damn early to start getting philosophical.

My clothes were soaked by now, and my hair stuck to my head. Water cascading down it in tendrils. I knew I should shampoo it, but I didn't feel like. This is fine enough, besides I was getting cold. I hadn't had hot water since I moved in. I doubt that this place ever did. I turned off the water, my lashes dripping beads of condensation as I reach for a towel to dry my pink head. My hair has lost it shimmer and shine, it had gone limp from bad treatment and I believe that my roots are beginning to sprout their heads again. I don't know if I'll die it again though. Hiro always said that the die would make me stupid one day. Maybe it has.

I strip of my wet binding, their damp weight dragging me down. My skin hits the cold air and I immediately shiver even more than I already am. Goosebumps cover my body like a second skin. My small, near minuscule hair contracting to keep in warmth. It's pointless and they should just give up. It's kind of funny how I can change my moods so swiftly. I wonder if that makes unstable.

I glance in the broken mirror and glaze at my freezing naked body. (god I would love to see that) I was a phantom of what I used to be. I was always a little bit under weight, but now I had stopped eating and drop even more. My ribs stuck out for any to run their fingers over. My skin was pale and white, just as that paper I had torn. My bandage had gotten wet, so I unwrapped my arm. That there being the only thing I liked as I continued starring. I was transfixed, like watching a horror movie. You know you want to stop but yet, you can't seem to look away.

But I had things to do today. I'll watch this story another time, besides I have seen it before and it always ends the same.

I braced myself as I walked out of my house. The breeze ruffling my fastly, drying wet hair. My eyes shielded from the sun's blinding rays by a pair of pink tinted glasses. I'm dressed in faded back slacks, a long sleeve shirt and black pull over vest. My left arm was so tightly wrapped that the bandage nearly cut into the skin and it was easily covered with clothes.

I look around, visions of people jesting and throwing tomatoes at me as I walk past enter my mind, but I quickly dismiss them. I already begin to feel an ache in my muscles as I have barely gone a block. The sky was a clear but flecked with distorted gray, betraying it's an illusion of a sunny day. The familiar sites surrounding me and the fresh air filling my lungs brings a heighten sense of anxiety as well as pristine calmness.

After the shower I had thrown on my clothes, then after mixing a concoction of very own to cure my slight hangover. I grabbed my lyrics and headed out the door. I barely recognized where I was going, as I treaded down my path. My mind drifting on the breeze as I let my feet take their own route. The air was clean, and I let myself bask in this small pleasure of surreal ness All too soon however, I found myself facing smooth transparent Plexiglas windows and tall hard concrete of the NG Studio's building.

I let out a sigh and marched in into the building, the doors closing behind me cutting off my escape. Not bothering to pay attention to the looks I received from the secretaries and the guards. Apparently sleeping with them and not calling leaves you with a bad reputation, even more when you talk about it at work. I knew my way around so I quickly walked over to elevator and pressed the button. Growing more annoyed that I had to wait as the minutes ticked by and the shaft finally appeared. Inside I was pushed and crowed to one side, my air being cut in half and my feelings of dizziness that seemed to plague me since I left the house increase. Sweat started to drip down my face and I laggardly wiped it away. Finally the doors opened and I put up a mask of indifference as I glided through the hallway that I knew that Bad Luck rehearsed and used. I stopped and stood there staring at the mahogany surface, the smooth texture. I knew what was beyond that door; it was after all eleven o' clock in the morning. Still, I grasped the handled and pushed. It was time to face the firing squad.

I gripped my fist tighter as K backed me into a wall. The taste of grease and gun powder filling my mouth, as he jams the rim of the magnum into it. Sweat was really running down my face now, flowing to my neck. Causing my collar to stick to my skin and become intolerably itchy. Forcing me to squirm even more. My knees quaked and K corning me was blocking off my air supply. His glaze was so intense that I felt that I was sure to pass out from its heat. He grabs my shoulder, making me wince at the presser and pain as I still haven't recovered from my little escapade of release. My vision blurred slightly, or maybe it was just the fact I still had the sunglasses on.

This wasn't the first time that I found myself at the end of his gun or manic tendencies for weapons that were used solely for bodily harm, but never before had he been this angry.

"Shuichi" He growled towering over my figure, his eyes red dots. Suddenly I tensed waiting for the attack that I knew that would commence. I accepted him to pull the trigger and a shiver ran down my spine. I squeezed my eyes shut but then I froze… I stopped and I looked at him as he growled and yelled something. I suddenly slumped my shoulders and let everything go. My mouth relaxing against the rim of the Swiss and Wesson as I continue my staring match with him.

Anybody that was in this situation would have been scared shitless, though to me these antics seemed exasperated. My feelings of nervousness of the unknown, that swept over me the moment I left the safety of my house, had quickly left me. Instead it was replaced by a sensation that was old but one that I was fast becoming acquainted to. the same one I always experienced whenever I spied the look on the people I cared about faces, or something that I once done that now seemed so far away. Of taking me over and leaving me drifting, this whole scenario was worthless and suddenly if K chose to shoot me, I don't think I would care.

K was growling harder, his shouting more intense and colorful. I knew that I should about what he was saying but somehow I couldn't bring myself to care. I also knew he was trying with everything he had, not to pull that trigger. But he shouldn't be in this position, it was him that decided after all to grab me and thrust me against the wall the moment I entered.

"Do you have any idea how much work we have lost because of your "ABSENCE!" I manage to catch at least this much as he shouts at me. Choosing to use the English vocabulary for the word absence.

"Nope." I reply blankly, starring at him with a dead expression lacing my face. My response muffled, as my teeth scraped against its smooth shaft.

"Why! You-," he yells and puts more presser on trigger. "K!" Sakano suddenly cries and jumps on him trying to subdue the honey blonde. Sakano the poor fool, has tears streaming down his face and was spinning around the room in a tornado. It was only a matter of time before the four eyed producer had a heart attack from all the stress that existed in his life.

"K-san please calm down, it won't do any good if you kill him." He cried pulling K off me but K still held the gun and pointed at me.

"I don't care, it will make me feel happy and that is good," K shouts pushing Sakano away and aiming at me again.

"Nooooooooooooo!" Sakano cries and jumps on K's back, wrapping his legs and arms around him. Causing K to fall backwards slightly and thrash against the other body that was restraining him.

"I don't care, I don't care, I don't care!" K screams and tries to man mover the magnum out from the producer's grasps as they danced around the room shouting at each other and all the while trying to keep their balance. The psychotic manager this time was now trying to throw Sakano off his back and kill him. He had a new target to take care of before he started on the real prize.

Fujisaki sweat drops and lets out a deeply annoyed sigh. Dropping his head at the site of his bosses' theatrics. "Maybe I should quit Bad Luck. This is all going on my therapy."

I continue to stay flat against the wall, turning my head slightly to the side so that my cheek glazes its surface. My lashes near half crescent moons as I tip my head down. I was drowning it all, the yelling and the faces. Just like I had so many times before, but something was different now and I couldn't place it. I now found my throat was considerably dry and the sudden insatiable itch in my left arm had returned. Forcing me to raise my hand ever slowly to my cloaked bandaged appendage to grasp it.

"That's enough!" Hiro yelled, slamming his fist down upon the table causing its legs to wobble from the impact. His outburst had silenced K and Sakano's prancing, Fujisaki's threats of relocation and forced me out my slumber of thoughts.

"All of this yelling and screaming is going nowhere;" he said standing up and defiantly glaring at K, who dropped his arms straight causing Sakano to fall flat on his back." If you're going to do anything, ask him where he's been for the last week, not put a bullet in him the moment he walks through the door." He shifted his glaze to me, a look plastered upon his features as I turn to face him The room continues its air of strained quietness as Hiro sits back down. His long auburn bangs obscuring his downcast face.

Hiro… for one second he looked the way he had always did. Just like—

"SHUICHI!" K screamed blaring in my ear, making my head throb. "Are you listening?" "No" "Urgggggg! Okay K, you can do this. Must resist dark side. Do not go over to the dark side, must ignore voices in head. Lalalala, kick him the dish pan, lalala da do da." K said dropping his head in frustration and grabbing it. Then just as quickly he shoots it back up, "OKAY! So where have you actually been the last three days." He asked with a creepy, sickly sweet smile that could clearly rival Tohma's. He was oblivious trying very hard to regain his normal composure, whatever that was. I suddenly decided to have some fun with this.

"Busy. Whips, chains, Russian prostitutes, you tell me what activity that falls under," I answer with a smirk.

K's eye twitches slightly, "I wouldn't have a clue. But would that truly take you a week or was it that you were so drunk that you couldn't drag yourself here."

"Maybe, I really can't remember that well, seeing as how after I was done, it was your wife that I was doing afterwards. "

THAT'S IT! YOUR GONNA DIE CLOWN! K screamed in fury and launched himself at me.

I smirked and rubbed my throat, glaring happily at K from my chair, who sat all the way across the room in the corner looking murderous and unhappy. As if he was a two year old that just had his lollipop stolen. Hn, well that did serve to bring some entertain, maybe coming in wasn't so bad after I thought.

After I had made my little "comment" I barely had time to move before K grabbed me and proceeded to squeeze the life out of me. The others seeing this quickly jumped up and had to pry the homicidal blonde off me before I collapsed. After that he made several attempts of "recapturing" me. Sakano and Fujisaki teamed up and somehow managed to take all of the guns away from. It turned the American had more on him than anyone could have guessed and this certainly wasn't legal. After that little game, I leaned against the wall gasping for breath as my vision and head swam and my knees started to buckle. By the floor where the sheets of paper containing my lyrics that I had brought. I picked them and decided to cut to the chase in case I chose to make my escape from reality by passing out. Besides Sakano wasn't that fun to mess with. He freaked out way to easily.

Let's just say they didn't take it well. They glazed over them, slightly turning their nose up before a deeming them acceptable and worth my stander. I did receive a harsh lecture and scolding for my absence and performance today, but then they left me alone. Any way if wouldn't have matter, I didn't pay attention to what they were saying. Instead I sat their making faces at K while their backs were turned.

I rubbed my throat as I felt someone staring at my back and I turned around in my chair. Hiro stood there, elegantly strait. Looking out the window, his arms crossed at his chest. "You know," he started, his voice low as he continued to face the glass instead of me. "You didn't have to do that. All you had to do was tell us the truth and none of this mayhem would have happen. Even though I highly doubt that was what you were actually doing."

"Yes, but come now Hiroshi. A little bit of entertainment now in then liven ups things up. And seeing him that angry gives me a thrill. You should try it, the pleasure you get from letting everything go and not giving a damn about anyone or every little thing is a truly remarkable experience." I answered smiling coyly.

Hiro turned his head to me, his face blank but traces of sadness lingered on it. "Do you really believe that," he asked," you've changed Shuichi." He said turning his face back to the window. Away from me.

"And is that such a terrible thing, as I remember you helped bring about this little change in me. So you have no right to pass judgment. Besides, why should you even bother. Last time I checked, caring about me wasn't on your list of porphyries. Though I'd prefer it that way. In fact, I rather like the way I am now. It's a hell of lot better than that crybaby Shuichi you used to know, this one actually has a backbone."

Hiro closed his eyes at my rant and slowly opened them, "You know… there once was a time when I thought I was in love with you, how foolish of a person could I be to fall in love with someone that can't feel anything but bitterness. You're spiteful and conceded Shuichi. You sit there and pretend as if nothing hurts you and that you've gotten over the pain but you know very well that you aren't. You're weak, a liar, and that fact cuts you deep. I know it does other wise you wouldn't act the way you do. You bottle up all the hurt but pretty soon if you don't let out it's going to consume you. You can shout and scream that I and others did this to you but you know you brought all of this upon yourself. I just hope in the end you can find your happiness." With that Hiro turned and walked away leaving me sitting there staring daggers at him for what he said. Anger and rage boiled slowly up from within as I clutched my fist causing my overgrown nails to piece my tender and abused flesh. He had no right, his words causing me to loath the ground he walked on, as hate took me over. I was enraged, because I knew it was all true.