I'm so sorry! No excuses! None that are valid anyway.

I'm truly apologetic for the delay and I hope you stick through this still. I love you all.

Disclaimer: No characters belong to me. Nothing, nada. Only the plot.

Read, enjoy, review (:

Don't Trust Your Father's Word

Time.

Time seemed to pass by slowly. Almost like it was frozen. Usually, this would have aggravated Demyx. He hated the silence; the moments where the world would stop spinning and nothing around him was alive to fill the void inside him- but now, he didn't seem to mind it. He had brought his knees to his chest, curled up in the center of his couch, the lonely piece of furniture in his so called living room.

The sight was unsettling for Axel. From what he could see from the blond's kitchen, Demyx was having a staring contest with the dull plaster of his walls, blue eyes holding a vacant stare. He hardly stirred in his time there, the only sign of life he showed were the soft breaths that caused his body to rise up and down, and the clenching and unclenching of a bulky electronic device in his hand.

He wasn't necessarily sure what he could do. It seemed that his best friend was torn, and he wasn't sure how to go about it. "Hey Dem, you don't have to decide today," he offered, resting against his counters. He never really noticed the lack of food in his kitchen, never sought the need to observe the blond's house with such detail- but looking back and forth between his best friend and the place he called his home, he never realized how Demyx fit the sterotype. A starving musician, with hardly any money to pay the bills. With his new job in line, the latter would be a task easier to fix, but that didn't change anything.

Axel hadn't realized the hardships of being an artist. He's had a steady job since he was sixteen, a mother who wasn't completely crazy, a father who at least left something for his family to live off of when he left the world, and a talent for attracting people left and right. Demyx had none of that.

"You don't understand." And he had to admit, he really didn't have any right to say he did really understand. He was his best friend, and in that, watched him grow and face all the things in his life, but never truly experienced them for himself. "This is my father. The man who abandoned me. He left my family in the dark for a man without batting an eyelash and now wants to come back into my life."

The redhead took one more deep sigh before wandering over to the confused sitarist. "Demyx, trust me, I know things are hard for you. I can just tell. But right now, you don't know what to feel. You've spent all these years under your mom's house and law. Influenced. Maybe he didn't fuck up as bad as you want to believe he did."

Demyx only shook his head in response to this. "No he did fuck me over, Axel." His cerulean gaze never left the sight of the phone in his lightly sun kissed hand.

"If you were in his shoes, what would you have done?"

His eyes snapped up to meet Axel's, a look of accusation on his face. He slightly grimaced, anger, an unusual emotion that rarely graced his features, rippling through his every vein. "I wouldn't have left my family."

"Maybe," Axel took his cue for leaving the blond's apartment as he gritted his teeth, "or maybe you'd choose love. Maybe, he likes to rebel from rule just like you. Tell me this; would you rather be miserable in a house with a woman who doesn't love you and thinks you're utterly repulsive, or would you choose a happy life with a man who gave you everything you need and more? Think about it. Think about his feelings. Perhaps he didn't want to feel hate under his own roof." He shrugged, at the door by then. "Demyx, I'm not saying I'm on his side or anything. Look, just think about it. He's reaching out. I gotta go, duty calls. Love ya, blondie."

Axel was out the door, and Demyx was out of his mind.

He honestly didn't know what to think, what to believe anymore. There was a part of him needing him to hate this man he called father. He outright left right? But as he brought logic into the equation, his best friend was right.

He spent is whole life seeing the man his mother wanted him to see. And Demyx wasn't the kind of person to hate anyone when it came down to it. He just had to think things through. That's all.

His eyes jumped back down to the phone resting in his hand, his thumb stroking the redial button idly. "You can do this Demyx," he encouraged himself softly. The male took another deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut before pressing down on the call button before he had time to take back his decision.

The faint sound of ringing filled his ears as he raised it to where he could hear the phone more clearly. "Don't chicken out. Don't chicken out. You can do this." It felt as the world melted before him, it was nothing but the phone and him, and the wall across from his slender frame now. Nothing but the hush sound of his choked breaths and ringing.

Waiting.

"Hello, this is-"

Demyx hung up before he could do anything else. He didn't blink, nor did he even let a single thought run through his mind before he ended the call. Perhaps he was simply unprepared, or he just didn't want to talk to his father, but he had to think back to what Axel had said.

Yes, it was a decision he needed to make, but that didn't mean today. He set the phone face down onto the cushion beside him before making his way to this bathroom. The blond really just needed a nice, long shower to clear his mind. Phone calls could wait.

Demyx entered his living room, ruffling his wet down hair with a towel he found laying next to his hamper. His blond locks hung loosely, sticking to his neck and the sides of his face, an unusual feeling for him, even though with every shower he took the exact aftermath occurred. But he didn't have anywhere to be until seven, so he could get away with fooling around without the hassle of fixing his hair up or caring about appearance.

He plopped onto the couch, watching the phone bounce up, then letting gravity pull it back down to the plush surface. Dare he look at the screen? Well, he paused his train of thought, Zexion could have potentially called. That'd be good news.

But good news seemed to come sparingly nowadays. Demyx crinkled his nose, shifting his gaze between his phone and the tempting sitar sitting across the room, inviting him over for a stroke of its strings or two. He snatched the phone and placed it on the small table beside the furniture he sat upon, before making his way over to his prize possession to take back with him to his seat.

If there was one thing the bubbly male could do, and do well, was stall- aside from playing practically any instrument given to him. Most weren't over exaggerating when it came to his musical talents and ability to infuse his diversity.

Demyx would say his strong suit was sitar or guitar; anything with a pick and strings. His sister Larxene preferred when he attempted to go harder with the electric guitar or even take his chance on drums, something completely out of his comfort zone. Namine once handed over her violin, and regretted it ever since, feeling lost to her brother's looming shadow. And of course, his mother, even had a top favorite of her son. His piano skills were simply magic.

And even though he deserved everything bit of it, he never felt the need to brag. To him, music was a gift, you had to treat it with care. You told it your bitter emotions and show it your tears and scars, and they'd keep your secret.

On a day like today, he turned to his sitar with the feeling of confusion, hoping the feel of the thin strings would help him make sense of his situation. He played with the instrument, carefully tuning it with small turns and twists.

Suddenly, his eyes darted to the table.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

His heart stopped in his chest. Either one of them calling- would potentially prove to be disastrous due to the lack of thinking straight. The blond set down his sitar against the head of the couch, swallowing a little bit before reaching for the phone. With every inch his hand went, it seemed another century had been added to the time it took for him to reach it.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

He scanned the miniature screen, not recognizing the number he read. Which only meant... Zexion? Could he really be calling? He sat there wide eyed for a moment, thinking about the possibility that the guy could actually have interest in him.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Hello?"

"Hello.. is this Demyx?" His heart stopped beating at the sound of the slate haired male's voice. Why was he reacting this way? He truly wasn't that excited, or nervous, or anything like that for that matter, right? Right. "This is Zexion. Zexion Iliuzija. You know who. Anyway, I was wondering if you were performing again Friday."

Demyx nodded enthusiastically despite the fact the other couldn't see his reaction. "Yes, I play every Friday now actually. Why? Can't get enough of my mad skills?" Insert awkward laughter, he groaned inwardly at the sound of his broken chuckle.

"No, not really." It was cold, harsh, but too harsh. "My sister wanted me to take her to see your show. That's all."

"Oh."

There was a long pause. "You didn't actually believe that I would want to come see you perform live willingly again, right? I mean, come on, last time didn't go so well." Zexion droned on and on and Demyx just wanted him to shut up.

"What do you mean?" The blond questioned, not quite sure what he meant by 'didn't go so well', crossing his legs as he awaited an explanation. It seemed as though he needed a lot of those, especially lately.

"Well you embarrassed me without my permission by dedicating a song to me, and I kissed you out of anger and spite, which I'm assuming led you on and that's why you gave me your number. You know, mistakes tend to lead you through a cycle kind of like this one." Demyx could picture the male's emotionless face as he said those words, hardly giving a damn for a second about how he felt.

"Yeah, you're right," another awkward laugh came out, "haha, sorry. Won't happen again. Without your permission anyway."

"I'm pretty sure you won't ever get my permission, but thanks anyway," Zexion mumbled into the phone so he could barely hear. "Look, I have to go. But Xion's excited so, yeah, Friday. We'll be there I suppose."

Dial tone.

That really didn't go as planned. "Not too bad," he lied to himself, running his fingers along the edges of his home phone. "He'll warm up to me." But that was only a hope, not a fact.

Without too much afterthought, he began dialing the man he attempted to call earlier's number- no hesitation, no feeling of nauseousness, nothing too overwhelming, to his relief. Again the phone began to ring on the other line, Demyx's mind doing summersaults and cartwheels now he had actually built up the nerve to do it.

"Dad?"

"Dem?"

"I have a show this Friday at this club I work at on 27 Common Street, and I was wondering if you wanted to come. I know you, uh, are busy and all with work and your life but it'd really mean a lot if you were there, and I know that'd it'd be a great show cause I'd, ummm, dedicate a song to you and well I know that sounds kind of cheesy but it'd be well, great! So if you were willing yo go-"

"Of course Demyx, all you had to do was ask." Demyx could feel the smile in his father's voice, leading him to beam as well. No matter how much he thought his dad a jerk for leaving, there was something that made him incredibly happy when he did something to lighten his mood.

"Wow, thanks dad. I just.. it'd mean a lot."

"I know, kid, I know. What time should I be there?" He asked his son.

"Around seven?" He purposely gave his father an early arrival time due to his record for being unusually late to everything he did and went to. It sort of irked Demyx in a way he couldn't understand. Maybe it was the face it screamed 'I don't care as much as I say I do' when he would show up late.

"I'll be there. Don't you worry, Dem. And I miss you."

"I won't worry, I promise. I miss you too dad."

He was putting a little too much faith in his father, and he knew that, but that couldn't help but smile as he hung up the phone. It was probably his best decision all night, he found himself to believe.

Demyx placed the phone back where he previously had it, going back for his sitar to begin his playing. And to think, before he made those two calls, he was about to play some sad song. Well, not anymore. This time, he was going to play a song, as bright as his smile or as bright as the sun itself. He felt like this time, maybe he did deserve it.

"So Axel, guess who's coming to my show Friday?" Demyx leaned over the bar, hardly paying attention to Marluxia as he went over the ropes of the job again just to make sure. Luckily, he was too full of himself to really notice the lack of eyes or attention on him.

The redhead pursed his lips in thought, tapping a pointer finger to his bottom lip. "I dunno, does it begin with a Z and end with an -exion, by chance?"

"Well yes," the male grinned, "but guess who else?"

Axel slightly frowned, disappointed by the fact that his best friend didn't seem as excited about the fact his hot new crush wanted to come to his show. "Well it's obviously not your mother, cause you so would not be excited about that.. sooo... Hm. One hint please."

"Starts with a d, three letter word."

His emerald eyes lit up with realization. "No."

"Yes," Demyx clapped his hands together in joy. "Yes, yes, yes! My father is coming to watch the show!"

"Congrats buddy!" Axel wanted to be happy for the bouncing blond, but couldn't find it in his heart. He was the one who tried to make Demyx see his old man wouldn't be so bad, but in all reality he found it hard to understand how he could change his mind in such a black and white manner like a little kid. He was scared. Scared that his friend would get hurt. Scared he would end up feeling about his dad as he did before.

He had every right to be with all the pain Mr. Cerise put his son in the first time.

Seems a little rushed, eh? I agree.

Anyway expect better update times, seriously. No more eight month span. :)

Again, review! Reviews = more writing :3

Question: What song do you think Demyx should sing in dedication to this dad on Friday?