Look at me go, I'm really staying with this story. Thanks to my two reviewers and everyone who's been reading. This chapter might not make much sense, since these are just little snippets of conversations, but I hope you enjoy. Things will become clear eventually… hopefully!

Oh, and in case I don't update again for awhile, Merry Christmas!

Disclaimer: I don't own The World Ends with You or the song this story was named after.

The first phone conversation between them was awkward. The Tech felt guilty for everything that had happened, and 777 was confused about the situation. It was about a week after his breakdown.

It was midnight. The Tech had managed to fall asleep relatively fast—the first time that week—but the shrill cry from his cell phone woke him up. Grumbling, he blindly searched for it, successfully finding it before the fourth ring.

Shortly, he answered, "Yeah?"

"…Futoshi?"

The voice made said man immediately sit up. He rubbed his eyes, willing himself to focus. "777? How did- no, why…"

"Sorry for, uh, for calling so late."

"It's okay. But… how are you calling me?"

"Snuck my phone in." Despite the situation, 777 clearly sounded smug.

"What if you get caught?" The Tech wasn't sure of the policy there, but he was pretty sure there was a punishment system.

"Screw the rules," the singer quickly dismissed. There was a short lull until he quietly admitted, "I miss you, so I don't care about what happens."

"I miss you too." He missed him more than words could describe. He missed him so much that it hurt. But he wouldn't confess that. "So… h-how's it going?"

"I don't know. My roommate's a downer. But he's a heavy sleeper, so that's why I'm calling now."

After that, neither spoke for a few minutes. The only comfort they had was the sound of each other's muffled breathing. The sound did nothing for the Tech, so he instead uttered the words that had been floating around in his head. "I'm so sorry, 777."

The singer chose to neglect the apology. "Hey, am I on any magazines yet?"

He was hoping for an acceptance of his apology—or even better, for 777 to reciprocate it—but the segue was expected. He decided to go along with his lover's charade. "We're had a couple calls for an interview, actually. As far as we know, there aren't any pictures of the concert, so Tenho and I are trying to keep things quiet."

"I'll sleep better knowing my reputation's still waiting for me," 777 joked humorlessly.

The Tech felt a wave of agony sweep over him. Before he was pulled under, he managed to choke out, "I'm still here too."

He managed to fight off his sobs enough so he could hear 777 mutter, "I know." That knowledge brought him no form of relief, no form of comfort. Instead a lead weight of doubt dropped in the pit of his stomach. He felt as though he couldn't breathe.

"I shouldn't be here, Futoshi," 777 stated. To the Tech, however, his tone was in between pleading and demanding. "I'm fine, really. Why am I here?"

"I'm sorry, 777. I'm so sorry." He couldn't form a more articulate sentence, so he settled for apologizing. Over and over. He could faintly make out his lover's confused pleas, but he could not form a reply to them. His own voice was unshaken, but remorseful. But he wasn't crying.

It seemed time had gone on vacation with their sanity. After some amount of it had passed, 777 murmured sadly, "I think I should go."

"Okay," the Tech relented. "You probably shouldn't call again. You don't want to get in any trouble."

"Yeah…" he trailed off before quickly adding, "I love you."

"I love you too." He then shut his phone.

After that, he just sat there. There was no positive reaction, nor a negative reaction. It was as though his body had numbed over and his mind had shut down. Somehow, he laid back down and fell into a restless sleep.

He left his phone on every night.

The second conversation was filled with accusations from both sides. However, it would be mingled in with concern. It was merely two sides of the same coin.

The Tech had been on the couch, channel surfing aimlessly. It was a little after eleven, and he was contemplating the day's events. Numerous Def March fans were stopping him on the streets, but he did not really acknowledge them. All he knew was that questions were being asked and rumors were being spread. And he wanted absolutely nothing to do with it.

Suddenly, the phone started ringing, pulling him from his thoughts. He reached for it absentmindedly. "Hello?"

"Hey."

The Tech was wondering if—no, when—he would hear from his lover again. It had been about three weeks, marking the month of the singer's absence. "Hi. How's it going?" He hated that. He hated that he asked that question so leisurely. Things weren't normal. They probably wouldn't be.

"Well, you know. They've got me talkin' to a shrink now."

"Oh yeah? How's that been?"

"I hate it, Futoshi!" His tone was blunt, vicious. It made the Tech flinch. "He's making me talk about things I don't want to think about."

That could be anything, he thought in dismay. He knew next to nothing about 777's past. The Tech could always detect his reluctance to talk about the past, so he never pushed the topic. That was his mistake.

"777… he wouldn't be making you talk about… things if he didn't think it would help," he pointed out, knowing immediately that he said the wrong thing.

"You don't know about it, Futoshi! I hate thinking about it."

"You're right, 777, I don't know about it!" The Tech was lashing out. It probably would not help 777, but it would be beneficial to his own well-being. So he chose to be selfish. "Maybe if you trusted me, this wouldn't be happening!" He gasped in surprise as soon as the words left his mouth. He had crossed a line; 777's unnerving silence was proving that. Hopefully they both could survive the aftermath.

"You don't… you think that I don't trust you?" 777 repeated. His voice was shaking in disbelief. It made the Tech want to bash his head into the wall. But he couldn't fold. Not this time.

"What else am I supposed to believe, 777?" He whispered. "I know nothing about you."

"I don't wanna talk about it," he hissed petulantly. "I just want to get out of here!"

"Don't raise your voice, you'll wake your roommate," the Tech scolded dryly.

777 laughed, but the pitch was tainted with hysteria. "If you think I'm fucked up, you should talk to him! He's got cuts everywhere! He tried killing himself, not me. I shouldn't be here."

The Tech just didn't have the heart to point out that the singer almost killed himself. He lacked the heart and the emotional endurance.

"777… you need help." There. That was the truth. The undeniable truth.

"Everyone's crazy here," 777 ranted, ignoring the Tech's exhausted statement. "I'm sane. Why don't you believe me?"

"I do," he reassured. "I know you're not crazy, okay? You just need help."

"This was a mistake…" the singer sighed.

"No, not a mistake. It's just…"

"Just a mistake. I'm sorry, Futoshi."

And then he hung up the phone. The Tech couldn't even cry.

The third and final conversation was filled with tears and sorrow and panic. It was one of the scariest moments in the Tech's entire life.

Another three weeks had passed. The Tech had been spending nearly everyday with Tenho. He was grateful to the slightly older man. Without him, he probably would have snapped.

BJ had been distant, angry. His drug use seemed to increase as well, which saddened Tenho. While he only smoked pot, none of them approved of it. But BJ disregarded their concern.

The Tech couldn't sleep that night. Time crawled by. Eventually, he began to doze off. Unfortunately, his cell phone started to ring.

"777?" He greeted, all ready knowing that it was him. However, he received no answer, making him doubt his opinion. "Hello?"

"Futoshi?" His voice was small, meek.

"777, what's wrong?" The Tech could tell right away that something was wrong. He could easily let go of his previous anger.

"Um…" the singer's hesitance brought tears of concern to the Tech's eyes. "D-do you still love me?"

The Tech was baffled at his lover's question, and he felt tears well up in his eyes even more when he heard the singer's tone—he sounded like a lost child.

"Of course I still love you," he said with a quiet sincerity. "I'm still in love with you. Now what's wrong?"

"I'm so sorry, Futoshi," 777 said, beginning to weep. "S-so sorry."

"It's okay, baby." The Tech never called 777 by any sort of pet name, but "baby" just flowed out of his mouth naturally.

777 sniffed quietly. "I'm sorry for everything."

"I know. Now… what's wrong? Is it the shrink? Your roommate?"

"A-actually, I'm doing okay with the t-therapy thing. I figured that… that if I talk, I'll b-be able to get out. I just wanna get out." 777's voice was shaking, and almost completely turning into sobs.

"I know you do," the Tech reassured, hoping that his voice sounded placid. "So what happened? Please tell me."

"I… I trust you, Futoshi," he responded before inhaling a shuddering breath. "I called BJ an hour ago."

The Tech listened for the next half hour about 777 and BJ's conversation. As the story reached the end, the singer was breathing way too fast, and the Tech had to refrain from smashing his phone out of anger.

"I-I'm so s-sorry, Futoshi," 777 choked out, sobbing loudly.

The Tech felt his heart breaking with his lover's voice. Both were threatening to completely crumble. "It's not your fault. BJ shouldn't have said that to you."

"But… it's true! I-it's all true."

"777, breathe." The Tech could feel his heart pounding. The singer sounded like he was about to hyperventilate, if he hadn't started all ready. "Shh… I know it's true, but it was cruel. He… he probably didn't mean it." He doubted that that was the case, but he could lie if it would calm the singer down. He was starting to get scared.

"I… I…"

"777?" He received no reply, only the sound of panicked, erratic breathing. "Listen to me, okay? Even though all this has happened, I still love you. And I don't blame you. I hope you believe me; it wasn't your fault."

"What's going on in here?"

That was a voice the Tech could not identify, meaning that it was probably either 777's roommate or a staff member.

"I have to g-go." This made the Tech believe that it was the latter. "I-I love you too." Then the singer hung up.

The next few moments went by in a blur. There was a little bit of crying, the Tech remembered that much. He wasn't sure how much or how long it lasted though.

He only had one coherent thought at the time. Would things be such an emotional rollercoaster when 777 returned? He wanted things to go back to normal. He wanted his singer to be normal again. And with the phone conversation, the Tech could see the chances of that happening becoming lower and lower.

Was there even any hope anymore?

Wow… this chapter even made me sad! I hope it was good, since there were a lot of different emotions I was trying to convey throughout the entire thing. So… please review and let me know how I did?