Disclaimer: Gravitation and its characters are the property of Maki Murakami. I make no profit from this other than pleasure.

This is an AU, chapter one caveats still apply. :D

Warnings: Non-consensual sex, language, yaoi relationships...the usual in an adult Gravi fanfic. I'm thinking I need to add: Gritty reality. This is meant to be disturbing and hopefully thought-provoking. It's serious subject matter. That's why it's rated M.

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Chapter Three:
Songbird
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"Eiri?" That breathy voice, coming from somewhere below his left shoulder, could only belong to Yuki Eiri's brother-in-law. "It is you! I thought I was seeing things."

"Touma," Yuki responded flatly, keeping his attention on the stage where a skinny, pink-haired singer was doing a pretty good imitation of the energizer-bunny.

"What brings you here, Eiri? And alone? That's not like you."

"Ducats."

"Passes? From whom?" Pseudo-disappointment permeated Touma's smooth tones. Pseudo, because out-of-pattern behavior was, to a man like Touma, the stuff of emotional—or better yet, legal—leverage.

Eiri dipped his head toward the stage. "Your new toy."

One dark eyebrow lifted. "Mine? Hardly. Not my type. Not my type at all. He's Sakano's current pet project. He's with our vanity label. I'm here promoting the other band playing tonight."

Vanity label. The musical equivalent of self-publishing. That actually surprised him. The kid was, if he let himself admit it, good. Very good. The lyrics were proving... not as terrible as he feared. Naïve, yes, but pretty. The voice, the undeniably sexy stage presence... those had passed viable the day the kid's voice changed.

Which brought up the nagging flaw in Touma's argument:

"Isn't that your cousin up there with him?"

Touma shrugged. "Sakano said he had a band who needed a synth player. Suguru wanted a break into the industry."

"So, you hooked him up with a vanity group."

Another shrug.

"You must have thought Shindou had something."

"I just wanted to silence Suguru's mother. She has a most irritating whine."

Touma's attitude was nothing new and meant little. The green-headed kid had talent on the synthesizer. Better than Touma had been at that age; Eiri'd heard the tapes. And his voice, singing descant to Shindou's exquisite tenor, was quite special, in that boy-choir soprano way.

Eiri wondered, in a vague, disinterested corner of his mind, would Touma have him castrated to keep his voice that way? He wouldn't put it past the too-charming shark of a producer.

"This is the first I've seen of... Shindou, did you call him?" Touma asked blandly.

Ah, Touma, Eiri thought with an inward smile, you're such a slick liar. Still, he wondered what that poor undersized cousin of Touma's had done to deserve a virtual death sentence—other than have an annoying mother.

Possibly it was just the fact that he was potentially better than Touma. Saddle him with the stigma of a start with a vanity group and no recording studio would take him seriously.

And Touma's star remained intact.

"Curious. Shindou said he was with NG. Thought you kept the vanity stuff firmly separate from the real label."

A frown marred Touma's smooth face. "He said? I thought he must have sent you the tickets in the mail, a fan trying to impress his favorite author. I've seen your books lying around their studio. When and where on earth did he have occasion to say anything to you?"

Eiri shrugged. Delayed to answer until a particularly beautiful song faded into entranced silence, then under the cover of the flare of enthusiastic screams for more, replied: "The park. I was having a bad night. Went out looking for inspiration, and ran into him. I insulted him; he gave me the tickets... then took them back." He caught himself smiling at the memory and pulled his face sternly back into order, but not before Touma caught that traitorous expression.

"Took them back?" Seguchi asked watching him closely. Damned peroxided curiosity.

"After he figured out who I was, he said I could buy my own."

"Don't tell me you did?"

"Hell, no. I called your office and got a pass."

Touma chuckled. "So... was it worth the effort?"

"I hate these things, as you damnwell know. But what I think of him hardly matters. From the response of this crowd, I think you should rethink which label you use. And, as much as I hate to admit it, he's a walking goldmine up there, if he doesn't fade in the stretch."

"He does have a certain presence, doesn't he?"

"He sings like someone who's been diagnosed with terminal cancer."

Touma winced. "That's a disgusting thought!"

"Not at all. He gives up there like someone who's determined to pack all of life into a single moment and is sharing that moment with the world. Whatever drugs he's on, I want some."

"Why don't we go ask him?"

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In the end, Touma never made it backstage. As music fans spotted and surrounded the ex-Nittle Grasper, Eiri, cheerfully anonymous in this milieu, left his brother-in-law to the fruits of his youthful indiscretions, and, ducking past the guards into the backstage chaos of set breakdown, made his way to the dressing rooms, grabbing a bottle of water from a passing cart as welcome relief against the taste Touma's presence always left in his mouth. At the end of the hall, he found the door with a handwritten 'Shindou' sign tacked to it.

"Dammit, Sakano-san, you promised me it was over!" The mesmerizing voice from the stage, hoarse now with fatigue, hinted of something else. Desperation. Possibly even panic.

Eiri, hand lifted to knock, paused.

A low murmur, then: "Do I have to?"

Another murmur, and, on a sigh: "What's the address?"

A moment later, the door knob turned and Eiri sank back into the shadows. The door opened. Sakano, the kid's manager, stepped out of the room, exuding his normal head-ducking obsequiousness. "Excellent job tonight, Shindou-san," he said, loudly. "Shacho-san was most impressed."

Hmmm...since 'shacho-san' had been standing next to Eiri the entire time, he wondered where toadie-san had gotten that notion. Ah, well, none of his business, the lies a manager used to manipulate his client. He waited until Sakano was gone, then headed once more for Shindou's dressing room, his curiosity now thoroughly aroused.

He noted the time it took for Shindou to answer his knock, noted the skimpy stage costume peeking out of the oversized robe, noted most of all the reddened eyes that peered through the cracked door. Puzzled, red eyes that slowly achieved recognition.

"Y–you came," the kid murmured, and a small, shaky hand rubbed his face, hard.

"Obviously. —Mind if I come in?"

"I..." Slender shoulders slumped beneath the robe, then shrugged. "Hell, why not?" Shindou stepped away from the door and dropped wearily into a chair in front of the mirror, reaching for a makeup-removing cloth, hiding his red eyes quickly behind the pre-moistened folds.

For someone who appeared nearly superhuman on stage, he was surprisingly small, almost painfully vulnerable, here in what should be his private sanctuary.

One did have to wonder what was supposed to be 'over,' though, if one were honest with oneself, one had a pretty damn good notion, only the details wanting filled. His was the vanity label, and there were plenty of vain people who wanted to claim they'd been with a star 'back when.' Fantasies, fantasies and more fantasies. And with that innocent face and sensually slender body, not to mention the voice of an angel, this poor kid had probably figured in his fair share.

He'd certainly figure in a few of Yuki Eiri's from here on out. He wasn't into men, but this kid could make the most dedicated heterosexual reconsider his options.

At least...the stage Shindou could. This one...this backstage, red-eyed shrimp roused his curiosity more than his libido.

Eiri swung the only other chair in the room around to face the dressing table, placed the bottle of water he'd lifted in front of Shindou, and settled into the chair, crossing his legs comfortably. Large eyes appeared from behind the cloth, spotted the bottle and looked at him in question. Stunning eyes that he saw clearly for the first time. Eyes that were something between a rich dark bluish-brown and, when the light hit them just right, purple.

Eiri lifted his chin toward the bottle. "You look like you need it more than I."

"Th–thanks." A chewed fingernail worked the security plastic free, dropping the clear strip carefully into a garbage can empty save for that strip and a few of those disposable makeup removing cloths. A long swig that chucked fully half the bottle later, and those eyes met his once again, eyes that strove for mature disinterest, even as they pleaded for reassurance. "S–so... what did you think?"

"Well, you didn't suck."

Curiously, his deliberately snarky tone roused a chuckle. "From you, I'll take that as a compliment."

"Whatever turns you on."

The fledgling humor died an infant death. Shindou winced, turned back to the mirror and applied a second towelette.

"Touma says you're with the vanity label."

Behind the towelette Shindou blushed bright red.

"I told him NG should snap you up for real while it can still afford you."

Those big eyes blinked at his reflected image. Startled.

"Yeah, brat, don't get all swell-headed, but you're... pretty good. Maybe even special, given the proper development."

A tiny smile twitched his really quite amazing mouth and grew into something more, conquering the shyness surprising in so open a performer. "Yeah, but you're a romance author. What do you know?"

Or perhaps not surprising. Perhaps that exposure on stage was so thoroughly instinct-driven that once off, Shindou began to wonder just how much he'd given away. To wonder, had he been a fool. Were people laughing at, not with him. Were they cheering him on only to give themselves more to laugh at.

To wonder, when the axe of reality was going to drop.

He'd seen hints of such an open nature in others. Ryuichi had it, though it was not so natural. And Ryu retained a certain mystery up there. This kid... the mystery appeared to be offstage, not on it.

What did he know? Eiri lifted a brow. "Enough to have called every success—and failure—NG has ever had. Touma listens to me, brat, so watch your step."

Shindou finished the water, then sat for a moment, cradling the empty bottle, playing with the pop-top. Snap! Pop! Snap! Pop! Finally:

"Thanks." Low, almost inaudible, and with another glance, direct this time, of those brilliant eyes. "Wh–what did Seguchi-san say?"

"Sorry, kid. Even if it had been anything definitive, it wouldn't be my place to repeat it."

A heavy sigh, a glance at the clock on the wall, and a convulsive shudder, before Shindou pushed himself to his feet.

"I don't mean to be rude, Yuki-san, but I've got to leave. I... thanks for coming tonight. I was... pretty rude when we met. I... regret that."

Regret? That was interesting. Not to mention promising. This character intrigued him, he had to admit, and if he was honest, more than curiosity had been aroused tonight.

Eiri rose as well. "Can I give you a lift somewhere?"

The boy chewed his lip, his desire to accept painfully obvious, and yet: "Thanks, but... I've got a ride."

It was a patent lie, and Eiri wasn't surprised when, ten minutes later, sitting in his Mercedes outside the stage entrance, he watched the kid, stage clothing hidden beneath an over-sized orange hoodie, climb into a cab.

TBC

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A/N: Harrumph! And so we see how much Sakano's word is worth. Next chapter: White (k)Nights.

Reviews: Again, I'm sorry not to be answering everyone personally, either in private or in here. I'm scum! But truly, I do appreciate each and every one. I'm deferring email time to editing and posting time. (And sequel time. Yes, it's happening. Yay!)

Re: Casting Couch Shuuichi: I'm glad you all seem to like him, although I'm sure there are those who don't who are just too polite to say anything. It is a different take, and really interesting to write. On the one hand, his naïveté regarding the actual act of sex is gone, but his hopeful innocence regarding relationships remains intact. I think that's one of the keys to what makes Shu...Shu—for me, at least. Regardless what life throws at him, he maintains this sweet conviction that romance and love are real. Regarding his backbone in standing up to Eiri...I don't think it's totally foreign to the cannon Shu, but stems in this story from several months of standing up to his "tricks" and demanding (among other things) that they wear condoms. (I actually find his take on that topic, coming up in a later chapter, one of his sweeter moments.) His backbone truly comes of age as a result of the sudden shift in his self-perception, i.e. that his "dinner" days are definitively done and he's finally the legitimate recording artist he's always dreamed of being.

Up to the point where he meets Yuki, the reality of his situation and actions has definitely taken a backseat to the "anything for his art" mentality. Now that it's over, (when he meets Yuki) he can look at it as something he's survived and can forget. It's time, as he sees it, to revel in being a success.

In this chapter, of course, that inner confidence has been shattered. That wasn't the last time and he can never again trust Sakano's word. The proof that inner-Shuuichi is still alive, though, is in that little comebacker line about Yuki being an author (another recurring theme of my mature-Shuuichi, I fear. :D) I do like Yuki's role here of being Touma's professional reality check. That came out of the blue as the story progressed. Yuki in this is probably more reflective of the anime Yuki.

More on Sakano: I didn't mean to absolve him in my A/N last chapter. Sorry if it sounded like that. I just find him an interestingly complex character. Even in the manga, he accepts and even admires some highly questionable tactics on Touma's part. He seems to me a type willing to play whatever games are accepted within his industry, without dwelling on the morality. And really, that's what he's doing. Does that mean I approve of what he does? Heck no. But as a writer, I find his potential motives very interesting to explore. (Not in this story, but in the sequel...very likely.)

As always, please R&R. It's really helping in this one to get your reactions.