Love and Hate

by Lily272

Seto has to come into school during the afternoon and overhears the most beautiful music full of sadness and decides to help the singer

2. 2 The pain

2. The pain

Two days have past since I heard my puppy's song. Two days in which I fear for his well-being. Two days full of waiting for some word of Roland, not that I haven't heard his voice, he sure had heard more then enough of mine complaining to him about his failure to gather any useful information on this topic. I start to wonder if I might have overreacted. Maybe I just saw ghosts after hearing his song. And yet, I still hear his voice in my head. 'It's already too late' those words repeated themselves over and over and over, not only in the refrain, but also in the last course. They seemed to be the key of the pain that was in the song. Scares, that could never be altered, wounds that might heal but will never be forgotten. I fear that I didn't see ghosts, and he just won't accept help because he truly believes it to be too late anyway. Combine that with the part about shame in his song it's clear that he sees no reason to get help from anyone, why talk about something he finds shameful if it won't do any good anymore anyway?

But if it is too late, how can he still smile and joke with his friends like there is nothing wrong at all. Everyday since that day he is still the same old Joey that I've come to know and love. A smile on his face, a trustworthy but wicked smile. And with a bright fire in his eyes that depending on the situation goes from mischievous over threateningly to furious. I doubt that a single one of his friends has any reason to believe him to be in any sort of trouble. I also doubt that a single on of them has a clue of how much sadness he hides behind his smile. That is, if I'm correct with my assumptions.

I give a sigh and rest my head back against the chair, trying to calm my thoughts. He doesn't look like he needs any help but the song just won't get out of my head. It just doesn't fit together at all. No one can hide such unbelievable amount of pain and sadness that well. Maybe I really do need to call Roland to stop following Joey, maybe I was mistaken and he is quiet safe and happy with both family and friends and the song didn't have it's inspiration in reality.

'why can't you see it's fake' why do I keep hearing his voice in my head? Why does the sadness in it still course me to feel the urge to protect him when he looks for all the world like his smile must be genuine. How could happy go lucky Joey Wheeler with his trusting eyes and loyal demeanour be in a situation that was even remotely as dark as the words of his song? But most of all, how dare he to distract me with those inconsistencies. How dare he not to act the way his song went or sing the same happy go lucky music that would befit the always present fire in his eyes.

I take the phone into my hand and actually plan to call Roland off his track, Joey is probably doing just fine and might even laugh about me taking his song so seriously. But I just can't, his voice just won't stop spinning in my head and I put the phone back down. His eyes had shown pain, right after he had been singing that song and I walked into the room his eyes where filled with a whole ocean of tears. With another sigh I try to clear my head and look towards the screen of my laptop, trying desperately to shut up Joey's voice with my work. It only works to some decree. I manage to get some work done, but the voice is still there, nagging, reminding me of all sort of possible things that might happen to my puppy.

At least I know that I won't have to face Mokuba's always present and watchful eyes tonight.

He noticed during the last nights that I'm worried about something but so far assumes it to be about work. I just don't know for how much longer I can let him think that. He knows my work enough, since he's involved in the company, to figure out that it can't have to do with work soon. But tonight he's off to spend the night with a friend from his class. It was arranged a few days ago and I had insisted he go even though he did mention this morning that he could stay if I rather not be alone with my worries. Silly boy, he knew I wouldn't ask that of him. I would never let him worry with me, even though I fear that courses him to worry about me even more at times. Well, it can't be helped, I can hardly tell my kid brother that I fear that his friend Joey is being abused by someone he loves. Maybe a secret lover, or a relative, someone Joey wants to protect even at the cost of his own well-being. Unless of course his song just coursed me to see ghosts were there is nothing.

The distraction of Joey's song is such a big distraction that I'm done with my work much later then usual and it's long past sunset before I sit in my car and drive myself home. My phone rings and I pick it up without letting my eyes leave the traffic and that for not knowing who is calling me.

"Mister Kaiba," to my surprise it's Roland's voice, I was hardly expecting him to call me at all. But maybe he just wanted to know if there was anything in particular he should watch out for since there was nothing that he thought of any interest to me.

"What is it?" I simply ask hoping that he isn't calling because something bad happened to my feisty little puppy.

"Let me the hell go ya jerk." I hear a familiar voice shout in the background and I know that something did happen.

"There was a little problem with Mister Wheeler senior, I already informed the local authorities, and organised that you're in charge of the minor in question until further notice from child services." Roland informs me. "Where would you like us to bring him."

"He ain't in charge of me ya jerk, let me the hell go." Joey's angry voice was heard in the background once more.

"Bring him to the mansion, I'll be there shortly, probably before you." I tell him. "And I expect further information's there."

"Of course sir." Roland simply replies and I end the call to rush home, not caring about speed limit at all.

Once there I tell the first maid I meet to prepare the guest room next to the large music room. I much rather have him in the room next to mine but I assume he rather have my grand piano close to him and myself as far away as humanly possible. Especially since he obviously still didn't want any help, considering the complains I heard in the background.

I also tell her to inform Roland to leave the guest together with another guard in said room and to report to me in my study alone. I need to know what happened to Joey before I face him and a moment for him to calm down before our talk might be helpful as well.

I sit behind my desk in my study while I wait for Roland. It doesn't take long before I hear the sounds that accompany my 'guests' arrival. He's still complaining and considering the sounds he's still fighting back quiet hard. Nevertheless it doesn't take long until Roland knocks at the door before he enters, knowing that I have little patience for courtesies when I'm expecting him and don't want to wait for him to enter only after receiving my permission when he knows that I'm waiting for him. It's quiet different when I'm busy or don't expect him to arrive but when I'm waiting for him, I already loath the time he constantly waste to knock on the door at all.

"Mister Kaiba," He greets me politely, annoying me further but at least he starts to inform me right after without the need to be questioned. "Mister Wheeler is save and sound in the room you prepared for him. His father is probably in jail as well as a few others that where at his apartment for a game of poker. It seems these mans where quiet used to gamble with each other and considering the sounds that started shortly before I called you, they are also quiet used to the fact that whenever the older Wheeler is short of money he's gambling with his sons body. The five man tried to hold the young man down and to undress him, while the older Wheeler bagged for another game to stop them with a new gamble. I took a few of the mans I had close by and entered the building as soon as possible, I forced the door to their apartment open, already having informed the police. Social services are informed as well, like I said, and seem to be pleased to have found, with this arrangement, a suitable temporary placement for Mister Wheeler. They probably arrive on Monday to discus a permanent living arrangement for him."

"The permanent arrangement will be the same as the temporary one." Is all I say and already write a short mail to my head lawyer to insure that. "Is there anything else that happened and what made you think that the man where used to it."

"I heard them say to the young Mister Wheeler that," Roland stopped for a moment, "That he should know by now that it's pointless to fight back. The man probably was upset about the black eye he had by the time I entered the building which he hadn't had when he entered the place earlier this evening."

Despite the seriousness of the situation I can't help but grin a little at the thought of anyone even trying to tell Joey Wheeler to just submit to anything. It was laughable. And yet, that was just what I will have to achieve, I want him to submit to my wishes and stay here even though I am quiet sure that he will refuse and I will have to find some why to make him stay out of his own free will for I'm reasonably sure that the leash that can hold my feisty little pup has yet to be forged.

"He seems to be quiet well though, all things considered." Roland continues. "He is still upset but mostly about the fact that I just walked in and he tried to stop me from coming up here rather energetically, he doesn't really want you to know about any of this. I assume he is ashamed of it. But whatever the reason, he is still fighting instead of feeling despair about what happened even though it obviously happened before. Just those times there was no one there to help him."

I'm quiet for a moment, wondering what I'm supposed to do now. I'm not surprised that he doesn't want me to know, he probably doesn't want anyone to know and might even assume that I'll make fun of him about this in front of the whole school. I might be able to make him stay by threatening to do just that unless he stay's, but I doubt that it would be the best way. He has to stay with me and it would course him to hate me further, and even fear me for the power I have over him with that information.

I slowly rise and thank Roland for the help and ask him to ensure that the property will be especially well guarded tonight since I fear that Joey will try to sneak away no matter what I say. After that I slowly walk towards the room Joey is in. It's quiet in there, so quiet that for a moment I fear he already has run off. I knock and wait, certain that he won't appreciate me entering without waiting for his permission. It never comes though, I knock again, wait for a moment and then walk in regardless of his silence. It won't help if I wait patiently in front of his door until the end of time and I fear that's how long it would take. Well, that or until his stomach starts rumbling which will probably be at any moment. Again I can't help but grin even though it might be a bad time since he looks up to see me enter with an amused grin. He seems to have calmed down before but the hatred look that grows stronger now that he sees me proves that he does not appreciate my grin. Well probably he just doesn't appreciate to see me period.

"I heard of what happened." I inform him and see his face pale slightly. "Didn't you say that you could keep yourself safe?"

"I can." He still insists. "I did fine without ya help before."

"It didn't sound that way." I say as calm as possible. "Either way, you'll have to stay here for the time being."

"I have to do shit." He says and stands up again from the bed he was on. "I'm outa here."

"Social services said that you're to stay here." I tell him.

"Tough luck," He just answers, "My dad didn't and I ain't listen to anyone else."

"He isn't in charge and most likely in jail right now anyway." I say and watch his face pale further.

"Why would ya do that to him?" He asked outraged.

"He sold you." I remind him, fighting not to show my anger about the fact that he defends such a man after everything while he despises me due to a few insults. "He gambled with your body and watched them rape you who knows how often, how can you even ask? How can you defend him?"

"He's my dad and it ain't his fault that he got a bit of a gambling problem." Joey defends him with a slight blush.

"A 'bit' of a gambling problem? He gambled with his own son! That's more then a 'bit' of a gambling problem Joey." I tell him hardly able to contain my anger. How dare that man to hurt Joey and how dare Joey to defend that man after those actions. "He hurt you and probably would do it again in the near future or do you really believe he would stop unless I make damn sure that he will never leave prison again which I most certainly will."

Joey pales even further coursing him to look more like a walking corpse then I thought possible, "Why on earth would ya get involved? Just stay the hell out of it, he's a great man, if ya know him. And he stayed by my side after mum left me. She never even bloody wanted me and probably wouldn't even care if she heard what he did. But he does, he's sorry he begged them to leave me, he's just a gambler and can't help it so quit pesterin' him."

"If he cared so much, then why did he let it happen in the first place?" I ask him.

"Because he can't help it." He tells me again, "Just leave him alone, leave us alone and let me the hell go."

"I can't." I say and try very hard to stay calm. It's a good thing that I have plenty of experience in hiding my emotions and staying calm even when feeling upset or even angry. But I can't remember being this furious, not counting the times Mokuba had been kidnapped of course. But the feeling I have now comes frighteningly close. I'm worried about Joey and I'm furiously angry with his father. But most of all I'm hurt because after everything his father did, I'm the enemy for trying to protect Joey from him. "Firstly because I'm already involved and if social services finds out that I was unable to take care of you they might see me unfit to take care of my brother. It was hard enough to be seen mature enough to take care of myself never mind my brother and only managed that due to the company and my position there. I will not risk loosing my brother because of your stubbornness." I know it's true what I tell him but it is one of the less pressing reasons. I'm sure I would find a way to keep Mokuba no matter what happens between Joey and me tonight. Even if he runs out of the mansion and freezes to death I could blame it on the trauma he had that my brother doesn't and wouldn't have problems to be seen as a fit care taker of Mokuba since I did that perfectly for years.

I mainly tell him this reason first to get his attention and I hope that it will be a more pressing reason for him to stay, then any of my others. He's fond of my brother and knows that he wouldn't want to be separated from me. "But there are other reasons that should make you consider staying here without complains. I don't need to beg anyone to not rape you since I'm not like your father. On top of that I can offer you some comforts he can not, like the grand piano that is located in the music room next to this room which you may use as you please during your stay here."

He watches me for a moment. His eyes had moved towards both sides of the room when I talked about a grand piano an I make a mental note to show it to him soon, it clearly could be a reason for him to stay. But now he's just looking into my eyes with a look on his face like he's going to strain his brain. The same kind of look he sometimes has during a math test. "Why on earth should I trust ya." He asks me, "And why would ya bother keepin' me around. I don't even get why ya bothered to send Roland to annoy the hell out of me by followin' me in the first place."

I have to admit that it's a good question but I can hardly answer it truthfully. Even though I am wondering how he would react to a confession of mine. I assume that he'd either believes me to make fun of him or would hate and probably fear me even more. After being raped multiple times by man I doubt that he could ever consider a male partner, never mind me. "What do you think would Mokuba do if he found out about what was happening to you and that I assumed it to be and still did nothing to prevent it?" I ask him but the doubtful look on his face clearly says that he doesn't believe that to be the only reason. I had hoped he'd fall for that alone but aren't surprised that he doesn't. Mokubas fondness of him and the rest of the geek squat had never triggered my help when any of them was in trouble before. But that doesn't mean that I give up trying excuses. "And I also want to find a way to force you to stay. I like listening to your music and since your room just happens to be right next door to a grand piano I assume that I will get to hear much more of it in the near future." He still doesn't look convinced.

"Why should I stay?" He asks me. Maybe he does swallow that load of crap and is just wondering about the possible answer for the new question already. "I don't wanna be here just to keep ya happy with my music. I don't even want ya to know 'bout that."

"But I do." I remind him.

"What ya gonna do if I go?" He asks me now still sounding feisty.

It's still obvious though that really does assume me to make fun of him in front of everyone, but if he thinks me capable of making fun of him for what happened today or just really doesn't want anyone to know about his obvious love for classical piano music I don't know. He does look really worried though. "Nothing I don't want to do anyway. But if you stay I might do something else then what I originally intend to do. Call it a little repayment for letting me hear you play every now and then. A deal."

"What deal" He asks in a weary voice, clearly not trusting me at all.

"I have to say that I still don't understand how you can defend your father." I start and already see his eyes light up with fire and his mouth open to defend him again, "Don't you dare to interrupt me." I order before he can do just that and add, "I'm angry at him for harming you, I want to know what your music will sound like when your less troubled about what happened and as happy as you always seemed to be. I want to hear a happy melody from you, but most of all, I want to hear your music as often as I can and the way he treated you he put that at risk. I already send a mail to my lawyers to ensure that he will never see the light of day again."

"Don't ya dare to do that." He orders rising his fists ready to fight me even though he must know it's pointless. I've beaten him often enough to prove my strength and even he should learn his lessons at some point right.

"I said don't interrupt me or do you not want to know what you'll have to do for me to send another mail telling them otherwise?" I ask him and see him shout his mouth tightly, still glaring at me after all I did to help him. "I want you to stay until your 18. I want you to live here at the mansion and follow my rules. They're not as bed as you probably assume. I simply want you back here every night before the doors are looked at nine o'clock sharp. I also want you to always inform me or Roland about where you're going as well as have one of my security guards accompanying you for your safety. Apart from your ordinary obligations, which are only to go to school, do you homework and do your uttermost to reach at least reasonably acceptable grades, I only have one other obligation you'll have to fulfil, I expect you to play a song for me at least three nights a week when I have time to listen to it. If you manage to promise to do at least that, I will write my lawyers and tell them to try to convince the judge that your father is addicted rather then guilty of a wrong he could have prevented and that he needs help rather then punishment. That should keep your father out of prison and he'll end up in a hospital where his gambling problem can be addressed properly until he has it under control. And trust me, my lawyers are the best, they will ensure that your father will receive the help needed or get him locked into the darkest parts of prison to never see the sun again, it's your call."

I hate the look of disgust he gives me. He truly does hate me and I know that for putting him into such a position I currently probably even deserve it. After all I'm well awear that with his kind of personality, this doesn't leave him with a choice at all, he'll safe his father and ply right into my selfish desires. He doesn't know that I mainly want him to stay where he is save. I need him to be where I can protect him the fact I also would really love to hear him play a couple of times, is only a minor motivation to put him into this situation and I most certainly wouldn't do any of this if it wasn't the only way to ensure his safety sufficiently.

After a moment he grins and then answerers, "I've got a couple of conditions for ya before I agree to that. I want to get out of here every weekend to spend time with my pals, and I don't mean the afternoon, I mean over night too. With all that crap about social services and so on I doubt ya let me stay during the week so I'll be fine with Friday and Saturday nights. Second, I wanna play what I want and more then just the three nights, I wanna play when I feel like it, and what I feel like playin'. And most of all, ya can't make more rules up along the way. Just the things ya just said and nothin' else. No special requests for playing when ya got visitors or me doing something else ya want."

"What else should I want." I ask him.

"What a surprise, the guy got double standards, I get shouted at when I interrupt ya but if ya interrupt me it's just peachy or what?" He asks in return clearly upset. I have to admit that he does have a point and stay quiet to let him continue. "And just because ya don't know what ya might come up with for a request now doesn't mean there ain't anything coming up. I want ya word that ya won't pester me 'bout anything else. And most of all, ya can't tell anyone 'bout my music or what happened tonight with dad and his gambling pals."

"Fine." I agree. I doubt that there will be more I might talk him into. The only other thing I would want, I can't demand and won't ever receive from him anyway. I want him to love me.

I hold out my hand to shake on the agreement like businessman but he eyes it wearily for a moment. I'm already considering to either say something or just lower my hand again when he finally takes it and says, "It's Saturday, that means it's my night of freedom, I'm out of here."

"Don't you even want to see the piano?" I ask trying to get a bit more time with him before he runs off again.

He stops on his walk out and looks at me. Once again he has that intense look like he is trying to think really hard. I can practically see the smoke rise from his stubborn little head, "Fine. But I ain't gonna play for ya."

I just walk out and over to the door a little to the left right next to his and enter the room. I hear him take a deep breath once he can see the piano and I turn around to see his face. His eyes are wide open and he slowly walks closer towards the white piano with a bit of gold on the sides. I wonder if he can stop himself from trying it out right away. I really wouldn't be surprised if he couldn't. The way he played he must love the music and the grand piano is an old but beautiful one and the sound is equally good. I have someone here to tune it twice a year so it should have a good sound right now, even though it's due to be tuned again soon.

Once he stands in front of it he opens the keys and runs his finger over them lightly without letting them make a sound. I never thought it possible but I am feeling a tiny bit of jealousy that he runs his finger so carefully and gently over the keys instead of my body but I fight it down with ease. It's just an instrument after all. Nothing more, it's ridicules to feel jealous about it.

I hear the first note being played. Seemingly at random. Then he starts with the lowest and slowly moves his fingers higher, this time letting every key make a sound. Once done he looks upset for some reason. He presses one key again and then mumbles, "What a waist." He turns and looks at me angrily, "I know that ya busy, ruining my life and what's not, but ya could at least tune it every now and then."

I raise my eyebrow. The sound wasn't bad, I couldn't hear any problem with the notes, not that I'm an expert on tuning but if there would be something really wrong with a note I would notice. If the key isn't in tune it's by less then half a note, he can't possible hear the difference that quickly. Even the guy that tunes it for me always say that it hardly needs to be tuned at all, so why is Joey so upset? "I have it tuned twice a year it's fine. I really don't understand your problem."

"Great, ya just like Miss Johnson's. Ya think ya know about music just cause ya can read a note or two but can't even hear it when a note is all wrong. I mean the school piano was worse when I first played it but still."

"May I ask how it came to that anyway? Considering how little you like me knowing about your love for this kind of music I doubt that you would just walk to Miss Johnson's and ask her to give you private lessons." I ask him while he already starts to tune the piano without asking for permission. Not that I would dare to stop him, the way he played I believe that he has a finer hearing for the slight differences in frequencies and that the note is ever so slightly off as well as that he's more appt to tune it then most.

"She heard me." He answers. "I broke into school a few times to play it and one day she came in late since she had forgotten somethin' and then she heard me. And I never asked her for teachin' me anythin', she made me do it or would have told the headmaster that I broke in."

"Why did you break in the first place? And do you know why she more or less forced you to take those privet lessons?" I ask. I wonder what got him started with playing as well as what gave our obnoxious teacher the impression that she can teach him anything at all when it comes to music. He has ten times the talent she has

"Ya really like to interrupt don't ya?" He asks, but his voice is more amused then angry this time and I wonder if it's all due to the fact that he is still working on the piano, having found the second note that must have been a tiny bit off even though I didn't hear it yet. I'm quiet though, hoping that he's more likely to answer after a moment of peace as if I push him for it. "I wanted to hear it again," He finally tells me. "My mom used to play and she had a little piano which she took with her. Serenity sometimes could talk her into playin' for us. She never did it for me though. I don't think she was great at it, but she looked happy. I never saw her happy unless she was playin'. I think it was due to dad and the fightin' that she wasn't happy, but she liked the music and I was happy seeing her smile. I remembered that and every time we had music in school I saw the small piano and thought about it. It's about the same size moms is. I always wanted to try it out but Tris was always makin' fun of the music Miss Johnson liked and forced us to listen to. I knew he wouldn't be mean to me but I still didn't want to see his face if I told him that I loved the piano and wanted to play it. In the end I broke in about five times a week. Ya know, whenever I had the time really."

"And why did she make you take lessons? Where you already good even without ever having learned it." I ask, this time, after he stopped talking.

"I'm not sure. At first she didn't seem to care and just wanted to know where I learned the piece I played. I told her that I had no idea what she was talkin' about and that I was just messin' around. Ya know, I just recognize the keys by their sound and play the right one that way. I hear the melody in my head and know how to play it. Since I know how the keys sound. Don't know why she finds that so unbelievable." He tells me and I have a bad feeling I know where this is going. He must be some sort of musical genius considering that very few people can even distinguish the notes and name them right away. Well I'm not sure if he can name them but he still recognises each one and can put the right key to it which technically is the same. It's something only great composer like Beethoven for instance could do. A few others can too, some of them much less famous but still great musicians. The kind of musicians that actually have some talent rather then great looks combined with an even better management and choreographers to teach them a good dance show that overplays their lack of talent, like a lot of those modern pop musicians have.

But considering his aversion to math especially when it came to fractions - I remember how he once begged Téa in school to tutor him and how later that week she swore that he wouldn't learn it if his life depended on it, needless to mention that he utterly failed the test - and since the rhythmic with notes had to do with fractions, I fear that the music he creates will forever be lost for future generations. And as it turns out I am right, like always. "She freaked once she found out that I couldn't play a C minor since I had no clue about notes and forced me to learn them every single day after school. At least I was allowed to play a bit after she was done pestering me for the day."

"Did it help?" I ask hoping that he at least had learned something by now and might be able to write his melodies down at some point.

"Sure." He told me. " are the names and she told me where they are on the keys but I doubt that I get that right without help. Oh I also have no idea how to call the tiny black once in between but that doesn't matter as long as I know how they sound."

"What else?" I ask and fear the worst.

"She started to talk about whole notes and halve notes and I remembered fractions in math and well, I sort of spaced out and don't remember much more. Apart from her screaming at me every now and then for not even listenin' as well as threatenin' to not let me play if I couldn't answer her at least one question. Fortunately she liked listenin' to me and I'm always allowed to play anyway." The more he continues the more he grins like he had before, when he insisted that I can't force him to do anything else. Meaning, as I know now, I can't force him to learn notes before he is allowed to play. The grin increases when he sums up to the conclusion I had feared to hear. "And since I can play here now, I don't need to bother with that annoyin' bitch of a teach and her endless talk about notes."

What have I done!