Chapter 7
Yugi stared idly at the large skyscraper before him, eying the top level in affliction as a grimace renewed on his face. It was all he had been doing lately, sleeping badly, getting distracted, stressing around like a chicken. It had taken him a few days to finally find his guts and drag his ass down L.A., and then another few hours to get here via public transport, seeing as he still hadn't gotten his driver's license. He hadn't expected for Los Angeles to be this impressive. If he had known, he would've taken his time looking around, but instead he was at the curb of Yami's flat. Trying to subdue his own ragged breathing, Yugi tried inhaling deeply and calmly, but it didn't subside his anxiety over the situation. Last time he had seen Yami, it had been clear they'd broken up, if there was anything attached at all. Last time he had seen Yami, it had broken his heart. He wasn't sure if he was ready to solve someone else's problems if he was still struggling to work out his own, as little as they were in his situation. It had been more than a year... What if Yami had just randomly written down some words a week after their break-up because he was feeling frustrated, produced it, and released, for him to be totally over him. Maybe Yugi wasn't the cause of his depression at all, or not even one of the factors. But that sure wasn't what Akefia had hinted at... If anything, the man had never sounded so excited after hearing from Malik that Yugi had asked for Yami's address, as far as his excitement allowed him to show. Malik sure seemed to praise the idea, then again, he also seemed a bit distracted by Marik...
'Fuck this shit,' Yugi thought and leaped forward. Multiple things could go wrong today, but he sure as hell was not chickening out. He glared through the glass doors and walked himself in, surprised that, aside from Yami's penthouse, there were other, common people living below as well. He noticed the name tags listed on a marble stone next to the bells, and in the lobby there was a stroller and tricycles for children. There were two elevators, of which one was guarded by security, so Yugi figured that was the one he should take.
As he walked toward the doors, Yugi was getting nervous by the cold glare he received from the security guard behind tanned glasses. Not that he could see his eyes, but he was certain the man was judging him. So maybe he didn't look like the average visitor for a rockstar with his white sneakers and regular slim jeans. What it that obvious?
"Hye," Yugi smiled poorly at the men. He waited for the guard to lower his glasses and have a better look at him, feeling awfully appraised in those split seconds. The man remained motionless, his hands still firmly held before him as he reversed his gaze back before him, not even looking at Yugi while he talked.
"Name and business, please," he asked desolate, and Yugi startled at the question.
"Yugi Mouto, just a visit, sir." He cringed visibly upon realizing he had addressed him with sir, thinking it sounded tacky. He waited while the man pinched what seemed like a mike on his chest and spoke mutely in the microphone, Yugi just standing by apprehensively, staring awkwardly at the ground. It took a few minutes for someone to respond, but once Yugi heard something blabber out of the speaker, it seemed he was allowed to enter. The body guard opened the elevator and ushered Yugi inside, pushing the button for the right floor and wishing him a good day. Yugi wanted to reply to it out of courteousness but all too soon the doors slid closed and he was on his way to the top floor. He suddenly found himself nailed to the ground as his heart-rate increased excessively, not having prepared for this to go this smoothly nor fast.
Visibly shaking once the door rolled back open, he stared numbly down a broad hallway with no one around. His fear was overcome by curiosity as he tripped forward and looked around the spacious room with little decoration. There was nothing much, a few frames with what seemed like photos of one of the band's concerts, at the end of the hall a door and at his left open for him to explore further. Cautiously counting his steps, he walked forward and peeped his head from behind the wall, his grand violet eyes slitting slightly closed as the room was dimly lit while outside the sun was shining brighter than ever. "Hello?" Yugi asked, his insecurity more than audible in that one word as he suddenly noticed the back of what seemed like Yami scurrying around the room.
"Y-yes!" He yelled back, pushing several things aside that were tossed carelessly in the couches, on the floor and on the coffee table. He seemed edgy, almost panicked, frantically rushing down the living-room throwing one item of trash after the other behind the sofas and under the table. Yugi caught a glimpse of his distressed features while the singer threw more stuff further away in the corners of the room; obviously embarrassed. "Y-you can come in!"
Yugi's gaze faltered as he let himself in the living-room. The curtains were drawn, there was trash everywhere he looked, stashes of dishes, empty glass bottles, … Papers and drafts were colouring the floor. He looked oddly at Yami who was still desperately trying to make the place less messy, his cheeks changing to a bright red as he suddenly noticed the appearance behind him and turned around swiftly, greeting Yugi with the fakest smile he could muster. "H-hye!"
Yugi grimaced back, it was the only thing he found himself able to do. He used the silence between them to check out every inch of Yami, from the heavily clothed, worn-out sweatpants to the over-sized hoody with holes in its sleeves where he stuck his thumbs through. To top it off, he was wearing a typical Arabian scarf that covered up his chin whilst it was 34 degrees outside. Yugi noticed Yami's eyes were red, with blue bags below them due to a lack of sleep. His hair looked sloppy like it hadn't been washed properly in a week. It was agonizing to watch, and Yugi had to tear his gaze away when he noticed Yami realised he was watching him. The Egyptian's eyes lowered to the ground, his forced smile from before by now dissipated.
"D-do you wanna take a seat?" He asked, frenzied. Yugi looked at him curiously before nodding and sitting down at the left couch, eying some of the texts and words on the papers on the ground. Yami snatched them away, shoving them further under the coffee table and clearing more space on top of it.
"I-I-I'm sorry, I don't – I don't get a lot of visitors," he admitted poorly, rubbing his face with his hands, though Yugi was unsure if it was because he was embarrassed or just tired. And what was up with that stammering? Yami was performing all of the qualities an artist doesn't have, at least not on stage. He was usually so self-assured, so cocky. Then again, when Yugi had visited him in the hospital, he wasn't. Maybe he was a better actor than most people gave him credit for. But who was the real Yami?
"W-would you like a drink? Just – soda or something! Not – nothing like that."
Yugi looked at him in confusion until he realized what Yami was referring to. The shriek on Yami's face as he felt so retarded for having said that almost looked like he had seen a ghost. He pinched his nose, cursing privately, trying to brush it off. This was going terribly! More than a year he hadn't seen Yugi and he was completely blowing it!
"I'm fine."
Yami looked up and blushed when seeing the warm smile on Yugi's face. The visit had caught him off guard, he had been sleeping the day away again and had barely slept at night. That, and it had been two days since he had last eaten something decent, aside from crisps and crackers. The idea that one day Yugi would show up at his doorstep again had long been lost months after he had released their last CD. But that didn't mean he wasn't happy to see Yugi! No, he was beyond ecstatic! Just tired.
"Why... are you here?" he asked hesitantly, afraid it would scare Yugi away. Yugi tried to find eye-contact with the singer but noticed that Yami was trying hard not to.
"I -" and he stopped himself, picking his words carefully. Why was he here anyway? He hadn't thought about that yet. "I heard the album."
Yami's eyes visibly widened and Yugi was afraid he had hit the wrong chord. Maybe he was rushing things too much? He should talk about something else instead.
"I'm studying in California University, renting a house with two friends of mine." He quickly added.
"I see," Yami responded, still not looking at Yugi though. It seemed the tension had subsided because his shoulders were loosening up, which was great. Yugi didn't want to inflict any more stress on the singer as it already was. He had to find a way to pick up this conversation, but the truth was, he didn't know what they should talk about. He had been so infatuated on seeing Yami again that he hadn't even given thought about why he wanted to see him. What did he hope to gain with this visit? He sure as hell didn't want to start over with Yami again. There hadn't been anything in the first place! So what, what did he want? What should he say?
"Listen, Yami... I –"
"GOOD MORNING L.A.!"
Slightly startled by the sudden interruption of a loud voice, the panic in Yami's eyes didn't go unnoticed to Yugi. As if the man hadn't been stressed before, it sure seemed like the curtain had just been lifted. With the most awkward situation going down in history, Yami abruptly stood up rigidly, his stoic appearance frozen in mid-term as, out of nowhere, Yugi was now death-glaring at the one and only most famous model in the entire country. Duke's cocky grin spread across his handsome features as he was aware he had just walked in on something important but couldn't give a fuck about it.
"Why hello, sweetheart," Duke greeted and ducked to give Yami a kiss on his cheek, who had by now retreated back in his seat, heart pounding dramatically in his chest while his face took on a colour that Yugi could only describe as unhealthy. His blushing from before had vanished like snow and was now the colour of, well, snow.
"And you might be...?" Duke asked innocently. Yugi realized that, despite the appearance of proper etiquette, Duke wasn't the least interested in his name. He enjoyed having barged in on them, that much was apparent in his smirk, and it made Yugi sick.
"Duke," Yami intervened, taking a stand again as he addressed the man before him. Yugi watched their interaction carefully, noticing how Yami rebounced when said man turned his gaze at him, fear evident in his eyes. This was not a healthy relationship. "Please... Now's not the time."
Duke looked at him bored, tilting his face like a child and redirecting his eyes toward the Asian teen, giving no mind to Yami's words. He watched Yugi with amusement flickering in his eyes, and Yugi realized he had to do something.
"Nice to meet you, Duke. My name's Yugi." Though the resentment in his pronunciation was overpowering, Yugi was almost proud he acted so mature whilst he offered a hand to the model. Duke looked uninterested, brushing the hand away and instead turning over to the singer who was still nailed to the ground
"That's Yugi?" He asked, and if Yugi thought his introduction had held any bitterness whatsoever, it was nothing compared to Duke's demeaning remark now. Yami looked taken aback, not daring to say anything. He was relieved of course when Duke ignored the ordeal and swayed his hips further from the living-area, releasing a breath he had been holding ever since having heard the man's voice.
Entertained, Duke grabbed an apple from the fruit basket residing on the cooking island a bit further away. He leaned against it while biting his apple, watching the pair closely as if he was a child watching a movie with popcorn. Yugi looked at the model and then back at Yami, whom was obviously extremely uncomfortable underneath Duke's gaze. He was shocked how suffocating Duke's appearance was on Yami, but more so that the man was here in the first place. This had to be a joke!
"Yami...?" Yugi turned toward the singer as he looked up, finding it difficult to meet the Japanese's gaze. The Egyptian pulled at his scarf and hid his face further behind the fabric, a frown evident on his features. "What is this?" Yugi asked.
"Isn't it obvious," Duke responded for Yami, who was too ashamed to admit to anything. Yugi watched his glazing eyes holding back tears before turning his attention to the source of all trouble. His glare was vicious but Duke wasn't the least intimidated. "He's over you. Done, finito!"
"I'll let Yami be the judge of that –" Yugi continued but was quickly cut off by the model.
"Ask away, Yugi. He doesn't care shit about you anymore. I helped him when you fucked him over."
"Duke..." Yami responded weakly. He knew where this was going, but it wasn't true! It was he who had decided to break up with Yugi, Yugi hadn't done anything! If only... If only he had the guts to defend himself!
"Oh I bet you did." Yugi snarled and turned his full attention to the American, balding his fists. "I can see that by just looking around this place! You did a really fucking great job there, Devlin!"
"Watch it, shrimp."
"No, I'm curious, Devlin. How, exactly, do you think you've helped him? Tell me!"
"You fucking piece of –" Just as Duke was about to stalk toward Yugi's direction, Yami intervened by stopping Duke. "Please," Yami asked prosperously, his hands steadily resting on Duke's chest while he looked him patiently in the eyes. Duke shrugged callously, pushing Yami's hands away as he walked past him nonetheless. While his walk was less threatening than before, Yugi didn't sway from his spot as the tall model halted right in front of his nose, blazing right in Yugi's face. Yami followed him, determined on breaking the two of them up but he was roughly pushed aside by Duke. This made Yugi only more furious.
"Get the fuck out before I'm calling security." He demanded, pronouncing every word with a vibrating hatred, short and sturdy. The two of them stared menacingly at each other, tension cloaking around them in such thickness that Yami was finding it hard to breathe. Yugi's glare didn't lack in challenge either. Even if Duke stood tall before him, he would not let himself get intimidated. It simply wasn't in his nature. And yet he had to face the facts as his eyes wandered to the singer. Yami looked distressed and afraid, and Yugi's gaze dropped in an instant, not even seeing the smirk of victory on Duke's face as he was finally able to look Yami in the eyes. In there, he noticed the pain and loneliness he was experiencing, and decided that it was time to pick his battles. Turning his eyes once more at Duke with the same look of loathing as before, he finally dropped his guard and decided to leave. Now wasn't the time, he wasn't ready, and neither was Yami.
"I don't want a fight," Yugi started, "so I'll leave, okay?" While his eyes were still directed to the model, Yami knew the question was reverted to him. Without much thinking, Yami nodded steadily, even if both of them weren't looking. He just wished he could still talk with Yugi. If Duke hadn't intervened, they could've talked things out… This wasn't what he wanted at all!
Stalking away slowly, Yugi took long strides, feeling Duke's brewing eyes on his back. He noticed in a glimpse the swelling tears threatening to spill in Yami's eyes and swallowed hard, finding this more difficult than he had anticipated. He didn't want to leave Yami like this, but he knew he would lose anyway. He had to be patient for now, and eventually he'd be able to find a solution for this mess. He just hoped he would soon…
"Eleven!"
Looking back oddly, Yugi faltered when he saw Yami's trembling form at the corner of the room, fists balled and body shaking. Duke did the same, not understanding the nonsense Yami had just spouted and not liking it either. He turned his gaze to Yugi, shouting that he had to get the fuck out, which Yugi did. He didn't know what had unfolded between those two as soon as he had stepped in the elevator. There was one thing he was certain of, though. He wouldn't leave it at this.
"Backstage boy!" Malik exclaimed with the enthusiasm of a school girl as he spread his arms wildly in the air, pretending to go in for a hug on Yugi's behalf. The Japanese closed his eyes in minor anticipation, not keen on his personal space being so invaded. It was also after Akefia repeated the same nickname in less than half of the ardour that Yugi dared to open his eyes again, slightly agitated when Malik had successfully tricked him. He looked behind him, realizing both men had taken the leisure of letting themselves inside behind Yugi's back, said man rolling his eyes back so far in his head he was afraid they'd get stuck.
While roaming through the now packed renthouse, Yugi observed how Malik failed to leave anything untouched in the house whilst Akefia slouched to the first chair he could find and dropped his own ass on the wood surface, annoyance leaking from his face. Before Yugi had any chance to say anything, another loud person embarked in the room, shouting in the gayest way possible. Both Yugi's and Akefia's eyes twitched in exasperation as the platina blond duo started rambling and grinning in a cheap way.
"So," Yugi finally managed to say once the couple was down the door going god knows where – Yugi wasn't even sure if he wanted to know. "This is the point where I ask why the hell you're here – no, how the hell you found my place anyway?!"
"Relax," Akefia spouted back, by now his feet resting on the dining table as he lied back in his seat. "How we got here doesn't matter. I'm here to find out if you've seen Yami."
Slightly agitated by the aloof comment, Yugi decided to slip the matter as he was well aware that nothing could be said to shake Akefia. "Actually, I have."
Akefia quirked an eyebrow. "So? How was he?"
"And I'm getting the impression that you're hiding more than I anticipated." Yugi continued with disdain. He eyed the Egyptian whose mouth was by now curved downwards, like a child getting caught having eaten another cookie. "Anything you wanna add?"
Akefia grunted in discomfort, hating that he didn't have the upper hand. "Look, he doesn't want to let anyone of us in. I haven't seen him the entire month. His security kicked me out last time." Akefia sighed earnestly, and Yugi's triumphant look faltered as well. "I let you on, I know. But he let you in. So, how is he?"
It was Yugi's time to sigh now. With a heavy heart, he picked himself up and gathered a glass of water to fill it for the bassist as he continued his report. "Well, I think I know why he hasn't let you in. But honestly…" he hesitated, turning to look him in the eyes, "you're not gonna like it."
As if unimpressed by Yugi's caution, the man slit his eyes as if challenging Yugi to try him. He noticed the aloofness in Yugi's eyes but paid it no mind. They had been through a lot as a band, as a family, so could it be any worse?
"Duke was there."
"WHAT?!" Getting up so quickly, Akefia's chair toppled over and made a deafening sound, shrieking Yugi in the process. "THAT MOTHERFUCKING FUCKWHORE IS BACK?!"
With a worried look on his face, Yugi slid the glass towards Akefia's direction, urging him to sit back down. He was surprised when the man actually did, not having anticipated for that to go so smoothly. He seemed frustrated, but also tired, like he wasn't ready to play the same game again. A frustrated growl escaped his lips that Yugi didn't know how to answer, waiting uncomfortably while the man privately raged.
"To be honest, from the looks of it Duke had been there for a long time. The place was a mess and Yami looked terrible. I don't know why he let me in, but it didn't look like Duke was happy about it."
During Yugi's speaking, Akefia's growling only increased with every word he said, slightly frightening the Japanese. His eyes were overflowing with rage that he seemed to be supressing, and yet it was about to explode any moment.
"Why! Why the fuck would he do that?!"
"It's called revictimization."
Yugi nearly jumped from his seat, eyes drawn to Ryou whom had casually walked into the kitchen as if nothing was amiss in the room, filling the kettle to warm himself a cup of tea. Baffled, Akefia still stood with his hands clawing in front of him, mouth hanging open from the audacity this kid dared to show. He was about to get ready to stalk right at him, when Yugi intervened.
"What's that?"
"When a former victim of any kind of abuse looks up the environment it has grown accustomed to. It happens often, and it's hard to get rid of."
"And who the fuck are you?" Akefia finally cursed, not liking how he was being ignored.
"Ryou lives here too, Akefia," Yugi mentioned. "And he studies psychology, so he might help!" He added with a cheer.
The guitarist groaned, dropping back into his seat to brush the entire issue aside. He looked at the white-haired kid with envy, already deciding that he didn't like the tea slurper whom took a seat around the table with his cup. Ryou noticed how the buffoon eyed his cup in scorn but paid it no mind, warming up his hands. "Anyway, who are you talking about?"
While Yugi was explaining the matter, it only then occurred to Akefia that this kid had gotten even worse by his accent.
"Was that the singer you dated before?" he asked.
"No, well, yes – that doesn't have anything to do with it!" Yugi rambled on, hating how the conversation had turned. "Can you help out or what?"
"Well, it sounds to me like the munshaus syndrome."
"And that it, Watson?"
Having grown immune to Akefia's rudeness, Ryou continued in a normal fashion. "One starts believing the lies another says to them. It appears often in abusive relationships, be it parent or partner. It works the same as starting to believe that you're ugly when someone repetitively says so, but it can be applied in many aspects. For example, this Devil-guy could be feeding Yami the idea that he's fighting depression, while in reality he is the cause."
"And what does the revictim thing have to do with it?"
"Based on what I have heard of Yugi's previous encounter, it means Yami has taken comfort in the familiarity of abuse and therefore willingly searches for it on his own accord. He believes that it is what he deserves."
"Atem wouldn't do that!" Akefia shouted back. Ryou could see his scientific explanations were ticking him off.
"So let's just get this straight," Yugi intervened, eying the Egyptian wearily who seemed on the edge of his seat. He could understand that this new information was difficult for Akefia to hear, but nonetheless Yugi didn't feel like shooting the messenger. "Yami let Devlin back in again because he takes comfort in the abusive situation, and Devlin feeds him lies that only worsen the situation. So where does that leave us?"
"An unhealthily destructive relationship." Ryou concluded.
At this point, Akefia stood up again from his seat, fists shaking with rage toward a bull's eye that wasn't available. "I don't wanna hear another fucking thing of this shit!" He began pacing up and down the kitchen, covering his eyes and picking the bridge of his nose. Yugi looked worrisomely at the man, wanting to calm him down, until Ryou placed a hand on his knee and shook his head. It was better to leave the man pondering before he would do anything rash. Ryou's studies came with an exceptional perception of character, and the guitarist looked like the type who would direct hate to aggression.
"I'm going to be very blunt, Yugi. People in this situation are hard to avert, especially because they are blind to all the wrongdoing. If he really has shut out even his family, it's going to be hard to reach him."
Yugi grimaced, having anticipated that as soon as he had left the loft. Yami needed help, last time Yugi had given up. He knew that this was his last chance to reconciliation, and he also knew that if he gave up this time Yami would drown. Having seen him last time in his apartment had made him realize that Yami needed someone to hold on to. Not so much out of weakness but rather because he recognized his own strength and weaknesses and was aware that he was in need of an anchor. Yugi could be that anchor for him, but how would he reach him now?
"If I'm standing on their curb next week, I can assure you Duke won't let me in."
"HA!" Akefia spouted, making the two students tilt their heads. "He's even afraid that you'd kick his fucking ass! If you lure him down, I will beat him to the hospital!"
Unamused, Ryou rolled his eyes and turned back to focus on the matter at hand. "Right, let's try to be civilized."
"Come to think of it," Yugi continued, "There was something odd that Yami had shouted right before I left the place. And it looked like he was afraid to say it in front of Duke."
"Just tell it already." The guitarist nagged.
"He shouted 'eleven', is that supposed to mean something?"
By now, both Ryou and Yugi had turned their heads toward the Egyptian who seemed to calm down. The guitarist let the word sink it, trying to come up with an explanation for the odd number. It had to do something with backstage boy, for sure. And number eleven…
"He's talking about song eleven on the album."
"The last album?" Yugi asked.
Akefia nodded affirmatively, leaning against the wall. "He refuses to perform it live."
"Why?" Yugi asked.
"Can't tell, you should just listen to it."
With a slight pout on the lips, Yugi crossed his arms and shrugged as if it didn't affect him. In truth, he was petrified to listen to any more of those songs on their CD. Last time he had done that it had left his so hollow he was ready to lock himself up, and he was just listening to them! Not to even consider how devastated Yami must be feeling having written them!
Getting up from his seat, Yugi look up as Akefia made a move to leave. "You leaving?" He asked.
"I came here to hear how Yami was doing, and I've heard it. I need some time to let it sink in." He spoke very unphased. Yugi quirked a worried brow at the bassist and looked at his friend, the Brit callously slurping for his hot tea as if he had already anticipated this reaction. He turned back to Akefia, intend on agreeing to keep in touch. "I wanna help out, I really do. I'm not planning on giving up on him."
Having stopped at the doorframe, Akefia summoned a grin that both foreigners couldn't see as his back was turned to them, holding onto the wooden frame. "Thanks, backstage boy." As he moved over to the living area to fetch his leather jacket, he continued shouting a response to the two men still sitting at the kitchen table. "I'll text you Yami's number. Should be easy enough since I found your address too."
Not bothering to search for Malik, Akefia closed the door with a loud thud, leaving the two friends baffled in the kitchen, Yugi with mouth agape at the rudeness of his remark, Ryou with lips as stiff as a board when he lowered his cup before him on the table. "What a wanker," he commented.