OblivionX

-10-

Scatter Heart

"I'm telling you Roxas, that damned C chord is impossible. Why would you…"

"… if you hadn't played for four hours straight, your hands wouldn't be that way, Axel, don't blame it on me."

"Bull shit! I was practicing your stupid chord…"

Their voices drifted in and out, half-asleep Dulor barely registering them. He'd be asleep on his booth already if it weren't for the likelihood of a fight breaking out. Zexion sat quietly next to him, pretending to be reading while really taking amusement in the argument across from them.

"… then show me how you're doing it, here- I can do it already and my fingers aren't all cut up…. You're doing it wrong , I knew it! Here, try…."

"You told me…. do it that way! Zexion…."

Zexion's soft voice came in a haze next to him. "….I didn't hear anything."

…anything…. anything…..

"Can't you do anything right?"

Dulor sat bolt upright, eyes dilated and breathing harsh. All conversation stopped, Axel and Roxas stared at him. Zexion belt down calmly to retrieve the book he'd dropped.

"Ahh…." The Dulor was frozen for a moment, pushing the memory from his mind. "Who wants tea?" There was no reply. Zexion eyed him clinically and Roxas and Axel just stared.

"I'll…. I'll go get us some." Abandoning sleepiness, he hurried from the room.

In the silence that was left, Zexion loudly turned a page.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So why shouldn't I get a name?"

"Simple. You already have one."

Dulor surveyed Relena over his tea, pondering the half-assed reversal of their roles. Around them, the busy highway diner bustled, everyone in the vicinity trying not to stare at their table and failing miserably.

"I'm in the damned band, aren't I? Why can't I change my name?"

"Because... well... Are you going to pay for it yourself?"

Ais and Aeleus stood protectively in front of the band's little corner table, staring away everyone who came too close. The waitress coming with Demyx's pancakes almost hesitated to bring them towards the table, so eerie were Ais' gold eyes as he grinned feraly at her. She scuttled off to the kitchen with only a mandatory stare and giggle after giving them to him.

Relena sat back in her seat with smugness.

"You're just against it because I'm your sister."

"I am not!" Dulor said, affronted.

"Gods know Relena's not a name that suits me. I like Larxene. Everyone likes Larxene. Don't you, Roxas? Zexion?"

She turned a creepily charming smile on the booth's other two occupants. Zexion snorted noncommittally, and Roxas shrugged.

Relena pouted, and turned to the singer.

"You like it, don't you Demyx?"

Dulor carefully looked away from him.

Demyx looked up at her, expression blank, if a little surprised at being addressed. "Mmffmm," He muttered with a shrug, mouth already full of food. He swallowed, sat down his fork, and tried again. "I mean, if you like it, it's good, but uh... Dulor doesn't have an x, either, or anything. But... I guess. I dunno."

Not missing a beat, he quickly returned to his food.

"Dulor doesn't have one because he's a martyr, and doesn't believe in taking credit for his work."

"'S not true. I just couldn't find a good anagram."

"You could always use Duxrol." Said Zexion nonchalantly, smiling into his book.

Roxas snickers. "Like a cross between that one Psyduck you get in red version and a barrel roll. Good one."

He and Zexion high-fived.

Relena scowled, not appreciating their help. She turned back to Dulor.

"It's not really your decision, you know. I can change my name if I want, it's not like I'm a minor or anything. I was just nice enough to ask for your blessing. So there."

Dulor threw up his hands in exasperation.

"Fine! Do what you want. If I forget your silly new Larx-een name, don't blame me."

"It's a Farfetch'd, not a Psyduck." Demyx said wisely.

"Dulor, when did you last sleep?" asked Zexion without looking up.

The effect was instantaneous. Larxene/Relena sat up straighter and looked at Dulor, and the manager sighed. Roxas stared at Dulor intently, expecting a lie. The atmosphere went from calm to charged in a matter of moments.

The silence stretched as they looked at their manager expectantly.

"...Why would you think I wasn't sleeping?"

"There are bags under your eyes, the only things you drink are coffee and tea with about six sugar cubes, you move like a drunkard, and I've never actually seen you asleep. You're always awake." He raised his eyes from his book and looked the manager in the eyes.

"I also found your prescriptions. You know, the ones Larxene got for you that you haven't ever used."

"... What's wrong with you? Do you follow me around?"

"..."

Roxas interjected, "...Dulor, we don't want to pry, but we're a little worried-"

"Why the hell should you care?!" The band fell silent under his sudden outburst, as he slammed his tea down on the table.

"I've done all my work, haven't I? I've done more! Why should you bother me about my sleeping habits?"

"Because..." Zexion leaned forward. "...you're eventually going to make a mistake because of it. And I don't mean in your work."

Roxas completed it, "... You're going to get hurt."

"You thought we wouldn't notice?" Demyx said incredulously, tilting his head up slightly while his eyebrows did opposite.

"Dulor, if this band is like our family, then you're like our father. We care about you. All of us, not just me. We're not going to just sit here while you make yourself sick!"

He stood up dramatically, leaning forward slightly over the table with his palms pressed flat to its surface.

Dulor was silent for a minute, his eyes actually making contact with Demyx's- for the first time in weeks. All around them, the little diner had gone almost silent. The tabloids were probably going to make a mess of this, he thought. Smart move, Zexion. They might lose a few fans, he knew, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to care.

"What do you all expect me to do? Take those infernal drugs you think will help me, until I get addicted to them? Until I can't think straight or- or- can't move right- or have to have my mind assessed by those damned shrinks to the point where I don't know who I am anymore and I can't-get–enough-of those-bloody-DRUGS!"

He abruptly realizing that he was standing, and his voice had escalated to yelling.

"No." He concluded in firm denial. "... I will not take them. I refuse."

Demyx smacked him, right across the face. "Stop being so selfish!"

In the complete silence that followed, Larxene was heard to be snickering.

And then, surging forward, Dulor punched Demyx in the face.

The fragile table tipped over and Zexion was the quickest to scramble out of the way of the tangle.

Demyx staggered backward, tripping over one of the table legs. Well practiced, he jumped back to his feet and flung himself at Dulor, shoulder first.

Not realizing that the last time he'd ever actually fought anyone was at the age of twelve, Dulor cunningly dodged into the attack, landing him breathless on his back. Nevertheless, he kicked out at Demyx angrily.

Zexion had already scrambled to safety, and the two bodyguards were suddenly busy holding back an onrush of people, but Roxas leaped into the fray with no regard for his personal safety, earning himself a black eye from Dulor's flailing.

In the background, Larxene sipped her drink and said to the general public, "And that is what we call sexual frustration."

Demyx on the other hand, had had a lot of practice with school bullies. He managed to stay on top of Dulor with relative ease, though he was panting with exertion, and had suffered a split lip from the initial punch. "Damn it, stop being so stupid!"

"Get off of me." Dulor spat back, refusing to show the pain of both humiliation and several bruised ribs.

"Not until you apologize!"

"For hitting you? I'm sorry. It was a waste of my time. But I am not going to apologize for exercising my right not to be a drugged snot!"

"No! For treating the band like kids who don't know what they're talking about! I was sick a lot as a kid, but you know what? I got better. You have to try, Dulor! Not just sit around and mope about how tortured you are!" He paused to wipe a drip of blood from his mouth. "And don't try to tell me you're not sick. You are. You need help."

Dulor stopped struggling and stared up at him. Roxas sat up from where he'd fallen and put a hand to his head, wincing. The entire diner was hanging onto every word.

"...Fine. I am sorry for that."

"Is that your phone in your pocket or are you just happy the fight's over?"

"RELENA, I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU-"

Zexion stopped a second fight before it happened, speaking up from behind Ais. "So, Dulor, will you take the pills? Or are you not done being an ass?"

Demyx stood up calmly, picked his chair up off the floor, righted it, and sat down like nothing had happened, even though the table was half way across the room.

"...I'll take the pills."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"... And why didn't you hit him in the face?"

Yazoo nodded in support to Zexion's question, adding to Demyx, "In my experience, the quickest way to shut someone up is to hit them in the face. He hit you in the face."

They were discussing the fight (not the reasons for it, just the fact that Dulor pretty much failed at it) in the back of the Win Boat on their bunks.

Well, Demyx was on his bunk. Yazoo was on Zexion's. With him. In his lap.

Roxas sat on his bunk next to them, cradling his guitar as he waited for Axel to finish the chord he was practicing. Dulor stood in front of them, balancing with the rocking of the van as his guitarist played, watching them intently and trying to ignore the conversation next to him.

"Do these arms look like face-hitting arms to you?" Said Demyx, raising both arms to gesture to each other. "The best I could have given is a bloody nose, which would have been hot... But unnecessary."

Yazoo laughed and Zexion tried not to, Roxas smiling as Dulor coughed lightly and ignored them, addressing Axel.

"Axel, what are you doing to that poor guitar? You haven't even got the right fingering."

"Fingering really isn't my thing." Axel grinned cheekily, not appreciating the critique.

"And stop being so foul, you pedophelic sadist-"

"So says Larxene's brother." he retorted, hitting the wrong note again and scowling at his guitar.

Roxas interrupted helpfully, "He's right, though, Axel. Your fingering is wrong. It needs to be different for this song-"

"Oh give me the guitar, I'll show you."

Dulor held his hands out for the instrument confidently, and Axel sulkily gave it to him. The correct notes, at perfect rhyme, sounded skillfully from the manager's hands, matching the music Axel was supposed to be learning.

"You play?" Asked Demyx, stunned. "...I mean, you- you play, uh, good. Really good, like, seriously. ...Wow." He blushed.

"Does Dulor play? Seriously, Demyx. Dulor taught me how to play." Said Axel, annoyed at having been proved wrong. "I used to be the drummer, remember? Well, Xemnas thought I sucked." He scowled, bringing into new light his extended hatred for their boss. "So he found us Xaldin, and Dulor taught me how to play, along with Roxas after we got Zexion as a bassist. That way Marly didn't have to play guitar anymore, see? He was a crap guitarist."

Dulor handed Axel his guitar back, waiting until the red-head was practicing it properly before continuing, "I tried to teach Marluxia to play properly as well, but he has no talent. No passion for anything other than vocals. Speaking of no talent, don't go complimenting like that. That was expensive tutoring from a young age- nothing more. Axel and Roxas were practically born to play guitars, I've just had a lot of practice."

"Well, you have to have at least a little talent," Said Demyx, going over to stand next to him. "I mean, it's more than just hitting the notes. You really do play well."

Dulor shrugged. "Both Axel and Roxas are better. I'm good at managing the band..."

He collapsed backwards into his bunk, idly watching Yazoo and Zexion making out as Roxas started on his set. Realizing what he was doing, he shook his head and looked back up at Demyx.

"...so it's my life." He said softly.

"You're a great manager, though... Probably the best, like, ever."

"Why thank you, Demyx. For what it's worth, to be brutally honest, you're the best vocalist I've ever met."

He picked up his tea from it's saucer next to him and sipped it.

"Oh, um, haha, thanks!" He fell silent for a long moment, giving Dulor a considering look. "...We make a good pair, you know?"

"...Indeed-" Dulor stopped, looked up at Demyx. He glared.

Demyx glanced away innocently, smiling ever-so-faintly.

"Dulor! Are you even listening?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Back and forth, back and forth.

Pace pace pace.

Dulor stopped in front of his hotel mirror, leaning forward and placing his hands on the dresser to peer at his reflection in the dim light from the window. Eyes gaunt, but lucid. Face wane. He looked to the bottle next to his left hand, taking a deep breath.

You know, you could always try to sleep normally.

He turned and lay down in the bed.

The clock on the wall ticked. Cars rushed by in the street outside. He could almost hear Xigbar, in the street in front of the hotel, lighting up because there was no smoking allowed inside. Sometime tonight, Axel would probably join him.

And they got upset at him for not sleeping.

Silence, then the floorboards creaked in some other part of the hotel.

Dulor stared up at the ceiling for what seemed like hours, trying and failing to lay there with his eyes closed.

The floorboards creaked outside his door.

He considered, for a moment, rolling over and pretending to be asleep.

The door opened quietly.

He waited, completely still.

"People breathe slower when they're asleep, you know."

Dulor stopped breathing for a moment, watching the vocalist at the door.

"Did I say I was asleep?"

Demyx paused for dramatic effect, letting his slipper'd feet slide across the floor as he stepped fully into the room and closed the door. "You promised you would sleep, Dulor. It's not good to break your promises."

"Maybe I was trying to fall asleep and you foiled me."

"Tsk tsk. I heard you pacing." Demyx sat down at the foot of Dulor's bed, serious expression fading into one of gentle concern. "Dulor... Really."

"Do you always come into people's rooms like this? What if I was naked?"

Demyx opened his mouth for a witty reply, but couldn't think of one. So he just blushed. "...Bonus points."

Dulor unconsciously pulled up his sheets to his chin.

Demyx giggled. "So... Did you take your pills like you said you would?"

"... Not... yet."

"I'll have to just sit here until you do, then."

He looked at Demyx pleadingly.

"Where's the bottle? I'll get you some water... It's not that hard, really."

"I can do it myself."

"Then why didn't you take them earlier? It's almost two in the morning, silly."

Dulor rolled over, facing away from Demyx.

"... thought I could sleep without them."

"And it didn't work, did it?" Demyx smiled patiently. "How about... You only take them when you're having problems sleeping? That way you don't get dependent on them."

"I'm always having problems sleeping. Usually I just end up passing out at four in the morning every few days."

"Have you tried listening to music? Or like, waking up at the same time every morning. That works a lot better than doing the opposite at night." He moved closer to Dulor. "Actually, most cases of insomnia are caused from stress. ...So... Talking helps."

"So does sex, actu- Uh, ahem. Talking would be nice, yes."

He shifted uncomfortably.

"Well... You could always talk to me about it."

"About what?"

"Whatever's stressing you out."

"Nothing's stressing me out. I've... always been this way."

"Always since when?"

"Since I was a kid, I guess. Didn't have time for sleep. Ansem always wanted me to do something."

"Wait, what, who? Ansem the owns-half-the-world's-money Ansem?" Demyx blinked.

Dulor lifted a hand from the covers to wave it dismissively.

"Yes, Ansem who invented the new way to use water for gas, revolutionizing the economy- which is actually draining the world's freshwater supply. Ansem Leblanc. He's my father."

"Your- oh, I see." Demyx paused to let this sink in. "So you... Well, that's not okay. You're overworking yourself, silly!"

"I can't abandon OblivionX! They're this successful because of me."

"Taking a break every now and then isn't abandoning us."

"..."

"Actually, have you ever thought how much more efficient you could be if you weren't dead on your feet all the time?"

"When am I ever dead on my feet? I hid it from Roxas for about two years, and not by looking exhausted."

"Looking exhausted and feeling it are two totally different things." Demyx had been edging slowly closer, and by now he was sitting next to Luxord with his legs crossed Indian style.

"... This is only half about my insomnia."

He looked at Demyx sitting so close to him.

"Isn't it?"

Demyx glanced away. "...It doesn't have to be if you don't want it to. We can address one problem at a time... Whatever works for you."

"What's it like?" He asked, curiously.

"...Being attracted to another man?"

Demyx fell silent, considering his words very carefully before speaking. "It's like... You know when you've been outside in the wet and cold for hours, and you go inside and it's warm? It's kinda like that... But better."

Quietly, painfully, he whispered,

"...I'm sorry."

Demyx put his hand next to Dulor's, not quite touching. "...It's okay. I don't want to try and force you into it, if it's not who you are. I'll... Get over it. Eventually."

"Demyx, it isn't that I... hate you. I like you, a lot. I wish..."

"It's okay, really..."

"I wish things had gone differently. I didn't want to hurt you."

"I'm fine, really. Don't stress yourself out about it. That'd be kinda... counter-productive."

He sighed, feeling confusion and panic hovering on the edges of his mind. With that sigh, he dismissed them.

Here goes.

Hopefully, he doesn't secretly think I'm a prick.

"Demyx, I think I'm gay."

Demyx was stunned to an absolute silence, expression akin to that of someone who'd just been slapped across the face. "You... Do?"

And Dulor chuckled bitterly, "After all the shit I put you through, it doesn't even matter."

He paused.

"I asked myself why I was so scared. And I realized it was because it was true, and I didn't want to change."

"...But it doesn't really change anything, you know? It's been there all along, shoved in a corner of denial. You're still you." Demyx wrapped his arms around Dulor in a tight hug.

"It's damn well going to change my social life-"

And then Demyx's warm arms were back around him, comfortable as though he belonged there. Dulor felt himself stiffen-

But he sighed, relaxed, and leaned into his singer's arms. It was safe there. It was okay.

"You can't hate me, can you?"

"Hate you?" Demyx laughed quietly. "I could never hate you, cuz... I love you."

"I was afraid of that... I owe you something, you know. Another kind of apology."

"You don't have to apologize..."

"I think you'll want it."

Dulor turned halfway around and locked his eyes with Demyx- blue on blue. They were as beautiful as he remembered, not clouded by anger or tinted glass. Like the ocean in a storm, deep in the dark.

Dulor kissed him, trying to fix what he'd broken weeks ago, in that lonely cafe out of fear and a lie. He kissed an apology- relieved, but only because at the same time he knew it wasn't needed.

And Demyx kissed back, all the fear and anxiety that had built up over what felt like a lifetime melting away at the simple touch of another. He pulled back slowly, eyes still closed.

"...There's something I've been thinking about, lately."

"Hmm?"

"You need an 'x' name."

"You think I should do Duxrol?"

"Oh yes! It's totally perfect for you," Demyx giggled. "No, I was thinking more like... Luxord, or something. It's a good name. Like, fitting, and stuff."

Dulor cocked an eyebrow.

"You don't like Dulor?"

"I read something somewhere about not dating people with the same first initial as you..."

Dulor sniffled, offended.

"Aww, I'd date you anyway, though..."

"You would, would you? Gods, this is so strange..."

Demyx kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Not too strange, though, right?"

"Maybe... I'll think about the name..." Dulor snuggled against Demyx, out of the cold and into the warm.

Outside, Axel and Xigbar murmured as their cigarettes flared and hissed in the night. The hotel creaked and groaned, but this time Demyx's breathing kept time with the clock as it ticked on the wall. His heart beat out a song and Dulor could hear it.

What was that? Oh yeah, sleep. Haven't seen you in a while, where've you been?

Waiting for the fear to stop.

Demyx stroked Dulor's hair softly, head rested on his shoulder. "I'll stay with you tonight, if you try to sleep..."

"..."

"...Dulor?"

He looked down, and the manager was breathing softly into the singer's pajamas, asleep. He'd never seen Dulor this relaxed, this vulnerable before. It was always as though the man could do anything, be everywhere.

And here he lay, in Demyx's lap. Like a dream. Demyx smiled and pulled Dulor carefully down onto the bed and snuggled under the covers next to him, trying not to wake him.

The manager only shifted, holding on to Demyx even in sleep, to make sure he didn't leave.

They lay in silence, but not a consuming one. The hotel shifted, the clock on the wall ticked. Cars rushed past in the night, cats yowled on fences in the unnamed city around them. Xigbar chuckled at something Axel said outside, and Demyx breathed a lullaby into Dulor's ears, telling him he was not alone.

The bottle of pills sat unnoticed on the the table, unclaimed, unopened, and unneeded.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I hate leaving this early in the fucking morning. Know what I mean?"

Axel leaned against the side of the Win Boat next to Xaldin, squinting into the sunlight. The drummer was watching as the tour buses all loaded up their tired and sometimes hung over bandies.

"...I'd like to agree with you, but we have a lot of shows to hit. You wanna do less shows?" Xaldin pointed out, unsmiling. He'd actually spent the night sleeping, unlike a smoke-smelling Axel.

"Why don't we have a private jet, at least? I mean, we certainly make enough... to..."

Axel narrowed his eyes, trailing off as he examined something about five trailers down. Xaldin followed his gaze curiously, at once realizing why he'd fallen silent.

A man, obviously lean but built enough not to be messed with, had exited the hotel across from theirs. He wore all black, a long leather trench coat falling to his ankles, his hands in his pockets. He had tight black pants and a black tank top, with rosy pink hair, chin length.

As he strode confidently towards his van, Marluxia smiled as though he knew they were watching. The knowing grin sent chills down their spines as he stepped up into the band's bus, a bus with the name Scatter Heart gratified to the side, without once looking their way.

"...Shit."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX