Effing hell to the max. Love you guys. First chapter, some quick reviews, 13 faves and 15 alerts? Not bad. Not bad at all. Thanks a heap. And I had a heap of fun writing this chapter. So I hope you enjoy reading it~ 8D And here is part two of Chase You Down! Wooooo~ Also this is the last thing I'm updating for a while. This Sunday I'm off to New Caledonia and return the Saturday after that. So how about while I'm away, go read my fics and review yes yes? /whore
Anyways, go do something funky like reading on.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
2. Foolish Star and Determined Journalist
"Sorry, but his schedule really is too busy. He truly and honestly does not have time for you. Perhaps you should find someone else; it's been a while since you last had a good article, isn't it?" Silence. "...Good day, Touzoku."
Fuck you.
Those were the words Bakura wanted to yell into the phone as Rishid hung up on him for the third time that day. Only Bakura had more charisma than that. He wasn't one to throw around words nor was he one to avoid saying what he meant either. But this manager of Malik's proved more difficult to get past than Bakura anticipated. It was absolutely frustrating.
Months had passed. The movie was out. Malik got more bodyguards and even more fans. Everyone else was getting to speak to him, interview him and do articles and spread silly rumours about him. Yet Bakura, the (self-proclaimed) king of journalism was getting nothing.
Zero. Zip. Zilch. It was absolutely infuriating. Bakura knew he was being avoided but because Malik was still 'new to the scene', there was nothing he could dig up and the articles and interviews about him that were floating around now gave him nothing new and interesting. It was totally unfair. He knew that getting through Malik's manager and security wasn't the right approach. Bakura felt that they needed to coincidentally be in the same place at the same time...
Oh, but because he'd been so focused on Malik and getting nothing, that meant he hadn't written a good article in ages! Everyone else was getting to the stories that Bakura normally would've found first.
"You're losing your credibility, Touzoku," other journalists started to say to him. Hell, even his fellow journalist Yugi Mutou was gaining a better rep than what Bakura was currently stuck with.
Nobody could ever understand, Bakura would tell himself. But that would be the truth. The unwavering, irrevocable, never-changing truth. How could anyone understand that someone could get so wrapped up in meeting another that it mattered more than his silly work? Stupid Malik. Stupid, gorgeous Malik playing hard to get. Stupid, gorgeous Malik playing hard to get and trying to wrap the Great Bakura Touzoku round his fingers... I'm the one who toys with the world. I'm not one to be toyed with... These were only but regular thoughts that would pass through the journalist's mind as he pondered what to do in order to meet the guy.
As he placed his cellphone back on his office desk, there was a knock at the door. "Come in!" Bakura responded sharply. Just because he wasn't at his best didn't mean he was too distracted from noticing the simple things around him.
Yugi Mutou entered the room nervously with a set of papers in hand. "Hey Bakura... I heard you were not doing work because of your celebrity crush on Malik Ishtar and I-"
"It's not a celebrity crush," Bakura immediately denied such a statement. "It's much different to that."
"Your wall has a Malik Ishtar poster on it and it's surrounded by notes with a big heading saying 'How to Obtain Malik Ishtar'..." Yugi pointed out weakly.
"And?"
The tri-colour haired journalist realised that Bakura carried little shame in this so he gave up with that point, no matter how blatantly true it was to the point where Yugi considered that maybe Bakura was getting a little obsessive. But then he'd remember the trillion Yami merchandise and goods that littered his own office and he'd stop right there.
So he decided to get to the point.
"Anyway, I'm starting to get invited to events and I came across two that conflict with one another. One is the party celebrating Yami's new album release..."
"He's got another album? What, is that a million and four now?" Bakura asked in a bored tone. He was pretty sure Yugi had a spaz about this album release before. Not that he bothered to care. Bakura personally found Yami to be a very dull celebrity but then again, he'd already found out everything he could about Yami so that no longer made him a person of interest.
"Bakura, I told you that it's his third! He wrote all the songs this time and helped produce them too! Why don't you ever take in these things?" Yugi snapped, following it up with a sigh. He really needed another Yami Sennen fan to spaz with around about now. He sighed. Now to try getting to the point. "The other is just a movie premiere party with more actors than those in the music scene. I want you to go in my stead. Maybe you could score an interview there."
Bakura sighed. "It has to be-"
"Malik Ishtar, I know," Yugi cut him off. "I'm not stupid. If Malik Ishtar wasn't going then I would've given the invite to someone else." ...Wait. What? Bakura looked up. Yugi repeated the information and Bakura blinked a couple of times. Then he smirked. It appears Yugi was indeed becoming more useful to him. Yugi handed him the invitation and he studied it carefully. "Flights are being paid for. All you have to do is go, watch the movie, attend the after-party, really," Yugi added. Bakura nodded as his smirk grew wider. He recognised the movie. It was some stupid romcom starring that Mana girl but he was aware that she'd befriended Malik. So that explained why Malik would go. Yugi grinned. "So shall I tell the organisers that you're going in my stead?"
The white-haired journalist rolled his eyes and wondered if the sudden increase in interest was that obvious. Did he even need to ask?
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Rishid walked into Malik's hotel bathroom as the star fiddled with his flaxen blonde locks. He was concerned about what Malik had been getting up to lately. Sure, they'd successfully avoided Bakura like the plague and yet that didn't stop the actor from constantly researching the notorious journalist and making excuses behind why he did so. Rishid always knew Malik swung that way and Bakura did have the looks, sure but he just didn't trust the idea of the two meeting.
Thankfully because Bakura had been pestering Rishid about interviews with Malik, he hadn't written any article for quite a few months. Not doing anything for a few months may as well be not doing anything for a full year in Hollywood times. His reputation was getting damaged because of this and people were complaining, thinking Bakura must've lost his spark.
Of course, a damaged reputation would decrease Bakura's chances of getting to meet Malik even further.
Yet Malik seemed to be amused by the whole scenario. Whenever Rishid appeared to talk to him, the actor always had something new to comment on regarding Bakura. It was getting to the point where Malik seemed to care more for that despicable journalist than anything else. Had he forgotten why he was here? Rishid narrowed his eyes and decided to speak.
"The movie premiere."
"Mana's one. Yeah?" Malik appeared totally uninterested in discussing the party. Sure, he was friends with the peppy girl but she seemed to be really interested in him despite being with Atemu Sennen. And so he was stuck with seeing her a lot and quite frankly, there's only a certain amount of pep that Malik could handle.
The older Ishtar adjusted his tie and grunted slightly. Malik wasn't being himself. Not at all. No, he isn't being himself. He bit right down on his lip. It's Bakura's fault. Even though the two haven't met face to face, it had to be Bakura. What else could it be?
"I found out about who's going to be there."
"And?" Still no interest.
"Him."
"Him?"
Rishid sighed. Malik's behaviour really was testing his patience lately. "Touzoku. Bakura Touzoku."
Malik didn't react. "That all?"
"I don't want you to go."
"Okay, that's nice..." Malik flicked away locks of hair at last and looked Rishid properly in the eye now. "You may go now."
"Should I tell them you won't be there?"
"No, I want to see Mana's movie. Bakura can do what he wants. I don't care..." Malik reached for his toothbrush and began brushing his teeth. Rishid clenched his fists and cleared his throat. This behaviour just... He took a deep breath. Malik was clearly up to something though, that was the obvious. Otherwise the young actor was acting rather bizarre. Malik gave Rishid a sickly sweet smile. "You may go now," he repeated.
And just like that, Rishid knew the discussion was over. He left the room and Malik returned to staring at himself in the mirror right away.
"Bakura Touzoku..." he began to love how the name sounded coming from his lips. It was no angelic sound nor anything of perfection. No. It felt harsh to pronounce the cold hard 'k's and as far as Malik was concerned, that sort of sound was perfect and all too fitting of the man Malik pictured Bakura Touzoku to be. "Bakura, Bakura, Bakura Touzoku..."
He wondered how long he'd kept the journalist at bay. Months. And because Bakura couldn't dig up any more personal information that wasn't already out there, it wasn't like he could really be blackmailed either. Malik checked his watch for no particular reason other than the action felt fitting with his thoughts.
"How much longer will I keep him at bay? To think he's still calling even after all this time too!" he laughed to himself. "His determination is something. With that rep being damaged all because his focus is totally on me!" With a flip of his hair, he let out another laugh. "Should I be honoured? His interest is quite... um..."
Malik felt silent. Why was he never bothered when thinking about Bakura and his ways? It bothered him how he wasn't bothered for that reason actually.
Could Bakura's actions be considered going too far in terms of trying to meet someone for getting to know? Like a... stalker.
Stalker.
The word dark yet prominent in Malik's mind, always. Always there. Eyes, eyes everywhere. Everything was everywhere. Always there. Sealing him within their grasp and constricting him to the point where he just couldn't breathe and –
"Aha...ha." Malik attempted a laugh to shake off such thoughts. "...N-No. That would be just... Bakura's just a journalist who goes to the extreme. Jour-na-list. He is known to always get the truth but he doesn't just..." He suddenly scanned the room. Hotel cameras? No. But always. Always, always.
Paranoia.
Always there.
"How much do I want to trust now..? Ishizu..." he mumbled, looking right up at the ceiling. If only it were replaced by an endless sky, one that contain his each and every thought. Like the light fluffy clouds that are bubbling with eagerness at the prospect of meeting such a unique person like Bakura. Then there's the dark looming clouds that cast its shadows below. Hanging there wherever you go. Even though you get the light clouds, you always get the dark clouds. But up above Malik was the cold, hard ceiling that was a barrier to the clouding emotions. Just great.
He wasn't sure what to think. So he tried to laugh again. It didn't help.
"Ishizu... Have you been keeping an eye on him..?" It wasn't like he could call his sister. That would just tip off his location, Malik was sure about that. He needed to be constantly in motion. A movie in California, a movie in Texas, a movie in Canada, a movie in Tokyo, a movie in Dublin... So long as he wasn't easily tracked down and he had his bodyguards, then maybe he could truly escape. "I'm going to go... to the premiere. Yeah..."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
The constant flashing of lights. The long long path of red to follow. The barriers between the stars and the paparazzi. He could remember how it once felt to be behind that barrier. And his first photograph for the tabloids was so long ago.
When was it did his career began? How did he become so efficient at his job? What made him reach the point where as a journalist; he was so brilliant that he'd be invited to big events like this? Bakura didn't have his own bodyguards nor an actress hanging off his arm. All he did for a living was get the truth out there by any means possible. Yet the paparazzi loved him. Once he realised he was fascinating to the public eye, Bakura soaked up every minute of it.
He hadn't been on this stunning red carpet for months. Malik is going to be at the premiere. As far as he was concerned, this was him making a comeback.
And as he was photographed alongside Anzu Mazaki who has been single since the split. With a smirk, he placed his arm around her, his hand gripping her hips, almost her butt. The paparazzi were bound to make something of that and Bakura damn well knew it.
"What are you doing?" Anzu hissed whilst keeping up the smiles for the fans, the photographers, the journalists.
"We're together on the floor but what goes on behind closed doors?" Bakura sang out the lyrics of one of Anzu's chart topping songs off her latest albums. He knew Anzu thought the songs people wrote for her were dumb but regardless of that, she was still rolling in the dollars.
Anzu bit her lip to contain the irritation. She still hadn't forgiven him for those articles he'd published exploiting her. "When we're inside, leave me alone or else," she warned him in a low voice. Then the two flashed smiles for the cameras.
"This guy bothering you?" A voice cut in as Anzu felt herself get pulled away from Bakura.
And Bakura looked up to see who was getting in on the moment. This guy who had just walked in and wrapped an arm around Anzu almost possessively.
Freeze frame.
-.-.-.-.-.-
Malik just rolled up to the party and wasn't looking to say hi to many reporters. He posed for the cameras once or twice and someone tossed him a rose, which he placed in the front pocket of his designer jacket. Scanning further down the red carpet, he saw a gorgeous popstar posing with an incredibly handsome man. A handsome man with striking white hair that stood out amongst the glitz and the glamour. The man hadn't noticed Malik yet as he was whispering to the popstar and smirking at the camera. No matter how you looked at it, there was something going on.
But being an actor himself, Malik automatically knew that the man was just posing with her for kicks and Anzu was obvious about how she hated that man for those articles he wrote about her and her other celebrity friends. Hey, Malik knew it was understandable. Most celebrities with half a brain didn't like him nor trust him. Nor could they get away from him.
He knew who the man was in an instant. All the photos he'd studied and his behaviour too when seeing him on the TV. Malik memorised everything he found out while researching him. It really was him. The white hair and those devilish brown eyes. That smirk. Those were all Malik needed to recognise to know.
The actor wanted to be out of the journalist's reach to test his determination. And yet he was every bit as fascinated about the journalist as the journalist was with him. He couldn't help it. The actor really just couldn't help it.
"I really, really want to meet you."
Malik couldn't help but feel like somehow this was how it was meant to be. And he had to be wise, quick-witted and smart as to how he'd handle Bakura. By attending the party, he knew he was casting Bakura a line for him to latch onto and be reeled into his life.
And so, without thinking, Malik decided to get between the popstar and the journalist.
He took the popstar Anzu away and put his arm around her. The paparazzi loved it. A man walking in to take the pretty popstar for himself off mother freaking Bakura of all people! Malik was well aware of how to get the paparazzi worked up over a story that didn't really exist.
"This guy bothering you?"
The white-haired journalist's smirk grew wider. "I have a way of doing that to people," he replied rather smoothly. Malik grinned and placed himself between Anzu and Bakura.
Anzu sighed. "I'm going to go get interviewed by a reporter. Thanks, Malik Ishtar," she smiled warmly at the actor and left the two to it.
"Oh my," Bakura chuckled. "We've been ditched."
Malik shrugged. "Didn't I sweep Mazaki off her feet enough?"
Bakura raised an eyebrow. "You wanted to? I'm disappointed."
"Hmmm?" Malik's eyes widened as the two started to wander down the red carpet even further, ignoring the paparazzi altogether. "You want her for yourself?" Bakura shook his head.
"I've already had a one night stand with Anzu Mazaki and dished out all the gossip I know! What more do I need?" Bakura yelled out on purpose to rile up the crowd. And it worked effectively. Anzu went bright red and glared daggers in Bakura's direction as reporters piled onto her to find out more. Malik burst out laughing.
"How was it?" Malik asked jokingly. Bakura blinked, not really expecting Malik to ask.
"Totally badass. She was screaming my name and everything. Oh and unfortunately she wasn't dating anybody else at the time so I couldn't go and make a bigger scandal among the ones I already had to write about."
The actor pouted slightly. "I heard you're a pretty slutty journalist. Actually, even though they hate you, some stars still don't want to pass up an opportunity to fuck you," he laughed a genuine laugh. "It's actually really amusing to me. Are your bedroom skills part of what makes you a skilled journalist?"
Bakura stopped walking for a moment and flashed Malik a killer smile. "Care to find out?"
"Was that an offer?"
He grinned at Malik's quick comeback. "Best response I've had yet."
Freeze frame.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Two stars of different professions on the red carpet. Long had they desired to meet one another due to pure fascination.
One was an actor who didn't reveal much about himself. He was constantly worried deep down that one day he'd be found by whom he wanted to run away from. Always on the move so that he wasn't easily found. All he had left was his older brother Rishid and his career. If someone discovered the truth, he'd be in ruins.
So why would he ever want to meet the type of person who could effectively exploit him for everything he was, is and will be? Someone who could bring about his very downfall. It made little sense.
The other was a journalist who knew everything about everyone in the world of celebrity. All except for the actor. This actor interested him like no other. He wanted to know everything about this actor to the point of crossing the border between curiosity and obsession. So desperately he wanted the actor to fall completely in love with him to the point of no return.
And so the actor was curious as to why the journalist expressed strong interest in him of all people. He wanted to test the journalist and see if he could discover something nobody else know. The actor began to love the journalist for paying so much attention to him. His every word. His every move. And yet the actor wanted to avoid someone who reminded him very much of the journalist.
Shouldn't that mean he'd avoid the journalist even more?
It didn't make sense. No sense whatsoever. And not knowing the reason made the actor want to know more about the journalist and to learn everything about him.
The journalist was never swayed by emotions he felt towards others. He felt no sympathy with every reputation-damaging article he wrote. But these articles were all the journalist could share with other people. He didn't want to share himself, nor did he keep the stories he stole for himself. For once the journalist wanted something all of his own.
He chose the actor of all people. The further the actor moved away, the more obligated the journalist felt to follow.
Freeze frame.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Dear actor,
now that you've chosen to let the journalist in your life, you cannot return to where you once were. Do you want to go back now, dear actor? You cannot go back, dear actor. Here you walk with him down a path where from this moment on, you'll never be free again. Dare to find the turn-off point, dear actor? You better find it fast before the journalist knows everything.
Love the journalist. Love the journalist, dear actor. Share your world with the journalist, dear actor. Your world shall belong to the journalist, dear actor. He'll devour it along with your soul, dear actor. Fall for the sweet nothings, dear actor. Let him tail you always, dear actor. Be his property, dear actor.
And even if you don't, dear actor... He'll chase you down to the very ends of time...
Do you know what you're getting yourself into, dear actor?
Learn from your mistake while you can, dear actor.
Though it might be too late.
Mine forever and always, dear actor
The journalist.
PS. We're together on the floor, dear actor... But what will go on behind closed doors, I do wonder, dear actor.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
After-party. Malik and Bakura sat apart during the film due to specific seating arrangements. As Bakura predicted, Mana's romantic comedy film was silly and annoying and basically another excuse to show cute girls and hot shirtless males on the big screen. But now it was the after-party and both Bakura and Malik found it rather saddening that most of the people each wanted admitted to wanting to poke fun at were gone.
Malik found it weird how well he was hitting it off with the journalist. He stared at his drink in hand. Was it the alcohol talking? No, he hadn't had much to drink just yet. Then again, he'd always been sober everytime he thought about Bakura.
The atmosphere was definitely something. All the youthful stars out on the dance floor while others were getting themselves drunk or were circling around tables to gossip and eat off platters of food. Malik had been to parties like these before, but he could see how smoothly Bakura weaved himself in and out of each and every scenario thrown at him. He could crack up laughing with the drunks or delve into discussions with the stars that were looking for slightly more intelligent conversation.
One drunken starlet forced her lips upon Bakura's and Malik found himself narrowing his eyes in disapproval. She tried to pry his lips apart with her tongue but he subtly moved the girl aside and onto the actor that was standing next to him. Malik found himself chuckling at this.
But he froze the moment he realised that the entire time he was watching him, Bakura was slowly making his way closer to him.
A certain smirking white-haired journalist planted his feet directly in front of Malik's. "So you're here for the after-party too?" he asked, even though the answer to that was obvious and the both of them knew it.
"I guess," Malik replied rather dully. Bakura frowned. The actor copied his expression. "Do you want something?"
Bakura's eyes darkened. But he dared to cover that up with the most forced and fake of smiles. "Can't I just drop by and say hi? Without any purpose?"
"I don't think that was your aim for the past... how many months?" Malik remarked rather smarmily. The journalist's mouth twisted into a smirk that accentuated the emotion in his eyes perfectly. "Sorry, did I say something I shouldn't have?" the actor asked, knowing he'd touched a nerve.
The journalist growled and pulled Malik over to one of the emptier corners. He didn't particularly care that the actor started spilling his drink on the carpet nor did he care for the people they had to shove right past. Once at their destination, Bakura's hands pushed Malik up against a wall. "You made a mistake coming here, you know," he hissed. Malik didn't bother struggling or point out how weird their positioning would look to onlookers. "Tell me Malik, what are you planning? You obviously know about my skills and reputation and you did the wise thing in avoiding me. So why are you slipping up now?"
Malik chuckled. "You're obsessed with me and it's damaged your reputation! It's hilarious!" he decided to try that as an answer.
Hell, he could make up answers all night. The determination that this journalist has was some kind of thrill to Malik. Especially since this time, Malik knew he had the power. He could turn Bakura away or bring him closer. Back and forth, back and forth. He knew he could easily do that. Like Bakura was the puppet and Malik was the puppeteer. It was always Bakura pulling the strings but Malik knew he could be different.
"You want my career in tatters?" Bakura asked incredulously. "So what if I'm obsessed?" He traced his thumb on Malik's bottom lip. "I always knew you were gorgeous up close..."
Malik felt himself jolt at Bakura's touch and he immediately freed himself from the journalist's grasp. He bit his lip. Bakura was about to try and come onto him, right? As in really try, not just make implications or connotations. And up against that wall, Malik felt restrictions. He knew that he had to escape that quickly. And yet he knew that in doing so, he just exposed a side of himself that Bakura wasn't supposed to see.
His bottom lip wobbled slightly and Malik's fingers reached up to touch it. Bakura's thumb was there just a moment ago. Bakura Touzoku's thumb traced his bottom lip. And he leaned in close and said those words!
"Sh...Shut up!" Malik snapped as he made his way to the bar counter. He definitely needed to blank his memory of that. So the journalist was hot and totally interested in him, whatever! He demanded the bartender to make him a martini and he felt Bakura's presence coming up directly behind him. "Go away!"
Bakura sat himself on a stool next to Malik. "Was I too forceful?" he gently asked. But that tone was definitely not genuine. Malik's face flushed red. Bakura leaned in closer. "You flinched even though I already see right through you."
The actor began to panic on the inside. What? What had Bakura found out during the time from where they crossed paths on the red carpet up until now? Who had he spoken to and what conclusions did he make?
"I'm... not transparent," Malik eventually said. He was pretty sure he'd kick himself for that response later.
"Let me guess, you're a bit of an attention whore who liked the fact I was chasing you. So you wanted to prolong our meeting as a way of testing me, right?" Malik gulped. Bakura was definitely on the money so far. "You liked the fact I was giving away that power for once, right? Because it was a game you could play as well."
"Here you go." The bartender handed Malik a martini and the actor finished it within the minute.
"Shut up! I'm not like that!" Malik barked irritably, gesturing to the bartender to give him another drink.
Bakura shrugged. "It's nothing to be ashamed of." His lips formed a devilish smirk. "I mean, I didn't even do research for that. It's just that I feel like I'm grasping your personality and your personality and actions sure speak volumes about you and your intentions."
"I'm not like that, Bakura!" Malik snarled. He knew he was losing his temper too quickly on this guy. And yet somehow, somehow this fucking journalist was already getting a good grip of what Malik was really like without the actor even getting a chance to try and prove the journalist wrong. "You barely know me. You know nothing."
"It's interesting though!" Bakura commented as Malik downed the next drink the bartender handed him. "You want to play hard to get but once you've been caught in the trap, you completely falter, don't you? It's like the moment you're not in power, you suddenly hatehatehate it. Fascinating."
Malik rolled his eyes. He wasn't going to even honour the journalist with an answer. Nor with an explanation of how very true all those statements were. They were unfairly true. He clicked to the bartender. Hopefully drowning himself in alcohol would make things better.
Bakura grinned. This actor definitely hadn't prepared himself well enough. Driving him into a corner would be all too easy. But the way Malik behaved when he snap!realised that Bakura now had the upper hand was something to take note of. The actor literally wanted to escape and get out of there instantly. He continued to chat away to Malik about nothing and watched the Egyptian actor start to drink away his common sense.
'He doesn't do well when put on the spot, does he? It's like if he can be away in the distance making all the plans, that's when he's more comfortable... that has to be it...' Bakura thought to himself as Malik began to drunkenly complain about Mana's romantic comedy film. 'He's not doing himself any favours by getting himself drunk either. What, does he think that if he can block it with alcohol then it's not there or it's not happening?'
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Malik could never tell anyone this.
But when he knows he's lost, alcohol was his solution. It seemed to make things less miserable because he thought it would emotionally disconnect him from the situation at hand. Sometimes he would drink himself out of his senses when he knew he was getting himself into situation where he knew he'd lose.
He liked to think the alcohol would take the memories away.
But it always left him with an empty feeling, like he'd been used and manipulated.
Substance abuse could never erase the truth.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
"Malik," Bakura spoke, wondering if the actor would still recognise his name. Malik stared at him with drunken eyes. "Malik," he repeated, just to be sure.
"Whaaat?" Malik groaned out a response. He blinked a couple of times at Bakura and tilted his head to one side. "...You're that journalist, aren't you? You're pretty hot for a journalist. Who are you interviewing todaaaay?" Well, Malik's mind wasn't totally gone at least.
Bakura smirked at Malik's compliment. "This party is a bit of a drag, don't you think? What say you and I get a hotel room?" It would be easier to really get Malik alone with him.
Malik frowned and attempted to click again to the bartender only to watch his hand fall onto the bar counter instead. "Maaaaake me."
"You can get more alcohol at the hotel room. That bartender's getting sick of you." Well, the second statement was true.
The blonde-haired actor shrugged. "What's the hotel room got that like, this party doesn't?"
"A bed." Bakura wondered if that really was the best answer he could come up with. Malik nodded slowly, rambling some comment about how he liked beds. The white haired journalist smirked; it looked like the actor would play along after all.
With a sigh, Malik tossed his empty glass to the floor and watched with exaggerated fascination as the glass smashed into thousands of tiny pieces. Then he put on his serious face as he looked back up at Bakura. "That glass... was the hearts of all the celebrities combined together... and what you do to them... it makes them fall to pieces..."
Bakura laughed. "Don't try to be meaningful when you're drunk, Ishtar. First off, you're saying their hearts are made of glass? That suggests a cold, hard front that's easily broken. And yet celebrities have hearts of stone. You can chip at stones if you want but they're still stones and they continue to be stones..." he held up a finger as he explained his thoughts to the drunken actor. "I can chip as much as I want with my articles but that doesn't stop them being celebrities. In some cases, I make the celebrity more popular when I exploit them. I can polish those stones into diamonds."
"You give yourself too much debit..." Malik grumbled.
"Credit," Bakura corrected as he leaned in even closer towards the actor. "So how about it? Would you like to become a diamond?"
"Diamond..." Malik repeated the last word that came from the journalist's mouth. "Everyone knows about diamonds..."
"Diamonds are forever, Malik..." Bakura whispered loud enough to be heard by only Malik in amongst the part atmosphere. He cupped the actor's chin with his hand and nodded approvingly when Malik didn't leap away this time. Must be the alcohol taking care of that now. "How does forever sound?"
"How do I acquire forever?"
In all honesty, Bakura found himself incredibly attracted to Malik in this very situation, even if the Egyptian actor wasn't really quite there with it. But their faces were so close to one another. And he was trying to find the words that would lure Malik into his trap. He found the moan Malik used as he spoke to him to be some form of teasing. Those lips were oh so near. He could capture Malik at any moment now. The moment in which he did so would be the crucial moment. It had to be perfect.
"Follow me and you shall see..."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Dear actor,
I could chase you down all I wanted but you make it easier than you realise. But seducing you for a one night stand is easy business, dear actor. That's not enough for me, dear actor. I told you to love the journalist, dear actor.
And love the journalist you will, dear actor.
That's the real chase.
And so I'll follow you, dear actor.
Mine forever and always, dear actor
The journalist.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Bakura had checked the two into a local five star hotel. He was well aware that an actor of Malik's status couldn't just stay in any old hotel. So the nearest hotel ended up being a longer walk than he would've liked. And by the time they entered their hotel suite, Malik's senses were returning.
Bugger.
He knew he lost the momentum but at least he finally got to be alone with the actor. Malik tossed the duvet off the one king size bed in the hotel suite and placed it on the couch. Then he wandered to the bed and got in under the sheets. Bakura sighed and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Why aren't we having sex?" Malik mumbled as he tried to adjust the pillows to his liking.
The white haired journalist scowled at him. "Because a certain someone being a highly sought after star means we can't just check into any old hotel. So I had to lug you around. Biggest mood killer ever."
"...I got myself drunk specifically so I wouldn't remember stuff..."
"You needed to drink yourself into a coma for that, I think."
"...I've done that enough times in my life," Malik grumbled as he tossed and turned on the bed. "It's a wonder I'm still good looking with all the drinking I'd done in the past. Oh, you can go write about my alcohol life or something." That last sentence was said with much tired hand flapping thrown in for good measure.
Bakura whacked Malik's feet as that was the closest part of him the journalist could reach. "That would be chipping stones. I want you to become a diamond." He felt like Malik showed more interest when diamonds were brought up.
"Why me?" Malik sat up and looked Bakura dead in the eye. "Why?"
"Bugger if I know."
"Bugger then, because you do know and you're not saying it."
"Indeed." With a sigh, Malik crawled over to Bakura's end of the bed and he ran his hand through the locks of Bakura's hair. He expected it to feel rough, not this... silky. The way it was so spiky made him think the feel would be different. Bakura still didn't move. Maybe Malik felt obliged to get closer now that they were at the hotel. He jerked slightly when the tanned actor began to massage his shoulders but he relaxed quickly. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"If you wanted to get me alone solely for interviewing purposes, a hotel room wouldn't be the location you'd choose," Malik responded monotonously, pausing to grip Bakura's shoulders. He leaned forward until his lips were only centimetres away from the journalist's left ear. "So I'm going to do you favour and get this one night stand over and done with."
In a flash, Bakura turned, pushed Malik back and leapt on top to straddle him and pin the actor's hands to the bed. He rolled his eyes.
"One night stand? Why would I chase so much for just one night of pleasure?" he asked with a delicious smirk. Licking his lips, he brought his face down and he listened to Malik's heartbeat. Fast, loud and the closer he got, the more the actor's heart pounded in response. "I'm not that kind of slut."
"Wha... What kind of slut are you then?" Malik forced a smirk. Shit, he didn't expect Bakura to get atop him this easily. And there was no way he'd let this happen night after night either! He could at least forgive himself for getting into a one night stand with the journalist but he couldn't just let himself be captured. There was no way he could bring himself back to a torturous cycle where he was captive under the spell of another. "Anyway, one night is all you're getting. I'll just go back to avoiding you after tonight."
"Then I'll just chase you down... you won't regret it." Bakura brought his lips to Malik's neck and began to kiss up to the actor's neck. Malik bit down on his lip hard, not daring to let out any moan of pleasure. Yet the journalist was experienced, the journalist had skill, the journalist... had done this before... numerous times.
Malik opened his mouth to gasp when the journalist's teeth sunk into the surface of the skin of his neck. Shitshitshit were the words that ran through Malik's mind. This feeling, this all too familiar feeling that Bakura gave him... Was giving him now. He felt his forehead begin to sweat as he resisted the urge to give in. But Bakura had him firmly pinned down so struggle was futile.
"Th-This is all you... you're getting!" Malik managed to blurt out before the journalist captured his mouth with his own. He felt shivers go down his spine as Bakura ran his tongue along Malik's bottom lip. Impatient with Malik's inability to respond fast enough, the journalist's tongue shot past the actor's lips and explored the inside of his mouth with ease.
Bakura pulled away suddenly and freed one of Malik's arms to undo the knot of his own tie. In the moment of freedom, Malik managed to get his other arm from the journalist's grasp. Then he pulled on Bakura's tie to bring him forward so that their lips could meet in a fiery kiss. Bakura smirked into the kiss in knowing the actor was choosing to respond instead of backing out like at the party. He appreciated the actor taking charge now. Sure, Bakura always preferred to dominate but Malik actually trying to dominate told the journalist that the actor wanted him. Perfect.
In pulling away after a clash of tongues and lips and teeth, Malik growled again that this was all Bakura was going to get from him.
Shaking his head, Bakura replied, "Such a shame, Ishtar. Then I'll have to take you myself."
"Shut up and receive what I'm choosing to offer, idiot," Malik muttered as he began to remove Bakura's shirt but still leaving the tie on.
"You talk a quite a bit during this sort of thing, don't you?" Bakura chuckled as he undid his belt while the Egyptian did him the favour of unbuttoning his shirt in order for removal. He glanced around the room and grinned. "You better hope this hotel suite has sound-proofing."
"Sh-Shut up."
"It's a good thing we never needed formal introductions to start with. Bakura or Touzoku, I don't mind which you feel more comfortable shouting..." Bakura discarded his belt and the now unbuttoned shirt to the floor.
Malik glowered. "I've never screamed people's names before!" he snapped as he too removed his shirt. "That's more of a lovers thing and we're just doing this just cuz not because we're lovers. Or whatever reason you've come up with that I don't particularly care to hear."
"Then let's become lovers," Bakura suggested as if it was the most casual thing he could possibly say.
The Egyptian swore at that very moment that his jaw fell through the floor at that very suggestion. "Dude, your last couple of relationships all ended in tears and none of those tears were yours! You exploited everyone you've ever dated. Just take this one night and leave it after that!"
"But I want to love you..." Bakura pressed Malik's back to the bed once more and titled the actor's head in order to kiss down his neck again. In between kisses, he spoke. "That's all I care about... Journalism and exploiting... if that was all I cared for... then I would've moved on from you long ago... But those calls and persistence weren't so I could... take one night and have you shove off again... What a fucking waste of my time... for starters..."
Malik wriggled to get the journalist off him. Screw the fact that what he was doing was actually pleasuring him than making him annoyed, it was Bakura's words he had to be careful of.
"Love me? You don't know anything about me!" Malik snapped, shoving Bakura away.
The journalist shrugged. "I want to learn absolutely everything about you. That is true," he admitted. "But..." he smiled at Malik a smile of seduction. And with every word he'd crawl just that bit closer to the actor. "...all the public will know is that we have a relationship. That will make you a diamond in the public eye. You'll become the first person Bakura Touzoku truly loves. Nobody will understand how that can be but they'll be amazed. They'll think you're special. And all of what I learn about you, the public will not know because I couldn't possibly share such a diamond with the public..."
"You're a freak," the actor sighed. But the words that this journalist spoke had a strange appeal to them, drawing him in like a moth to the flame. Where was his common sense? How could he be sure Bakura wasn't lying? He probably said that to –
"And what you learn about me, do what you will. I'll share all of me with you. I'm serious..." Bakura cupped Malik's chin with his right hand and admired the mark he left on Malik's neck before. "Do whatever you want with me... All I require is that..."
"That...?"
"You love me. I refuse to give you an option. Try to get away and I'll continue to follow. Once I set my eyes on something I want, I don't give up. I take what I desire. So love me... love me with more passion than you have anyone else. Love me and use me all you want. I'm the lowest of all low so take and do as you want... but you have to love me. Not just tonight but the many nights to come. Regret if you want, hate if you want but ultimately, you are to love me. I don't care if these words are beyond your comprehension and me bordering insane obsession, I could care less."
Malik hated the sweetness within Bakura's words. It honestly sickened him. And yet he saw all the opportunities and the pros and the cons. He knew that he could find ways to get away from Bakura and he knew Rishid would disapprove. Bakura was the worst person Malik could possibly consider, he knew. And still he considered.
Everything about the journalist's words sounded dark and possessive and yet Malik was so terribly fascinated and enticed by what Bakura had to offer. Was it the alcohol he had earlier talking? He didn't care anymore.
And if he made the excuse that he was only agreeing so that he could exploit Bakura himself later on, then that could justify him choosing to love Bakura, right? Not to mention the extra fame he'd get for getting together with the notorious journalist. The attention he'd get for doing something so many would consider wrong was something to take note of as well.
"And if I said no...?"
"I told you, Malik..." Bakura snickered. "I said there was no option."
"Then I'll love you," Malik replied as he pressed his lips to Bakura's with as much passion as he could. Bakura responded with the same passion, knowing he got the results he expected to get.
Success.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
That morning, Bakura found a pen and some notepaper. He penned letters, many letters. Each letter with sentences that often ended on the same consistent two-word phrase. Once done, he added an extra letter with all his contact details and placed all the pieces of notepaper on the bedside table. And with one last look at the sleeping actor, he exited the hotel suite feeling extremely triumphant.
About an hour later, Malik awoke himself from his slumber. He frowned in realisation that the arms that caressed him to sleep before were gone. Blink blink. Scratch that, Bakura had disappeared altogether.
With a sigh, he forced himself out of bed and quickly blushed when he realised that he was completely naked. Not to mention, incredibly sore. He hastily put his boxers on and as he did so, he saw that Bakura left his tie behind. Then he noticed many bits of paper littered on the bedside table. He walked over and realised they were letters. Picking up one piece, he saw that Bakura had scribbled all his contact information. He sighed in realisation that he must've agreed to becoming Bakura's lover after all.
Bloody hell.
He decided to look at the other letters only to find that the content made him shiver. Not for the right reasons either. He saw words that consistently appeared throughout the letter. And his head began to throb with pain. Reading these letters made him sick. He dropped the letters and rushed to the bathroom.
For these letters were a sickening extension of the words Bakura spouted the previous night. And these two words stuck themselves prominently in the actor's mind. Yes, the actor's...
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Dear actor,
so you chose to love the journalist after all. Fine choice, dear actor.
Welcome to the dark depths of hell, dear actor. The journalist took the liberty of learning more about you, dear actor.
Expect a call in three days, dear actor.
Mine forever and always, dear actor
The journalist.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
End of part two! Two more parts to go, yes yes! Aka I'm halfway through the whole thing. Celebrations to be had. XD Oh and so far parts one and two are taking up 24 pages of my word document. Makes me wonder how long this thing will end up being in total. In any case, I hope you enjoyed~ and yes, Bakura is always a sick fuck kthnx. I can't wait to uncover Malik's truth, which will be in the next part, I'll have you know. 8'D
Review or something while I party on tropical islands.
Adios!
Mel-Girl.