You can thank NonfunctioningAdultHuman for getting me back into this fic. I received the sweetest message from her. She is writing a Kyatt fic herself that was loosely inspired by this one titled: Perfectly Reckless. Be sure to check it out! It's an amazing fic, full of teenage shenanigans and some cutting social commentary on the foster care system. She also updates much more regularly than me. So, give her some love.
Thank you and lots of love to everyone who has been sticking with me through this fic. I won't make any promises I can't keep. It's like the Olympics, at this point. Something that will bring you enjoyment every couple years.
-x-x-x-
...But you can't hide!
The Championship was playing out much in our favour. As everyone expected, Max, Takao and Ray easily slayed the Majestics on their home ground. They had since gained momentum and won many battles, but so had we. Our team had yet to be defeated and were considered fan favourites for this year's title. I had spent day and night, pushing myself to the edge. Determined to return to top form. It was paying off. I obliterated Lee in a glorious fight at Wembley stadium.
In a moment of calm, I passed by the Japanese embassy to request a passport with my new alias. The clerk was very professional, and my document was ready within five days. I wasn't actually planning on going by Wyatt's last name. I just liked having the option of using it whenever I wanted to avoid being affiliated with the Hiwatari clan. I decided not to change it on my Russian documents as, the whole homosexuality thing was a legal grey area in over there at that moment. It was safer not to call attention to myself.
A week later we were set to compete against the one other team that was undefeated at this point: The All Starz. I was looking forward to seeing the utter dismay on their faces when we embarrassed them on their home turf.
I was still a little paranoid when I passed through the immigration checkpoint (which after the terrorist attacks the year prior had become a great immigration you-are-a-terrorist-and-drug-mule-Stay-the-fuck-out-of-here fortress) but I passed without any fuss. I was even welcomed with a smile. Figuratively spoken. The guy didn't smile BUT I wasn't put in a butt-rape cell. The Bladebreakers noticed my suspiciously pleasant interaction.
"They didn't hold you up this time." Takao observed.
There was a slight hint of disappointment in his voice. He got too much enjoyment out of hearing the stories of me getting held in various interview rooms. The one I spend a night in at London-Heathrow had not been on the big side. Or the fun side, for that matter.
Knowing him he would do something silly and draw their attention towards me.
"Shush, stop making me look suspicious." I hissed.
-x-x-x-
This stage of the tournament took place in Aspen, Colorado. Our sponsor, the BBA, had offered to fly us there but Kenny had claimed the airport topped several "10 most dangerous commercial airports" lists, according to the engineering magazines he was subscribed to. Something Max supported, claiming to have seen it on the Discovery Channel. Takao was skittish about flying and I was still sore with Ray, who happens to be one of those sadists who enjoy turbulences, so we voted four to one in favour of taking the greyhound bus from Denver.
"There are easier ways to change your name than getting married." Ray said, as he dropped his backpack on the seat next to mine.
He must have overheard the immigration officer calling me by Wyatt's last name. I believe he was trying to make a joke to lighten the mood between us, however I was still bitter with him. I replied with an angry glare.
Ray laughed awkwardly and got back up. "Sorry, bad one."
"Sit down." I ordered him. This was my form of a peace offering.
He was clearly relieved but got cocky and attempted to start a conversation: "Do you still talk to him?"
"You're pushing it, Kon."
By now, everyone should know that I'm not one for small talk, especially not when it concerned my private life. Funny enough, fangirls had labelled Ray as the smart one. I actually got a little offended before it dawned on me that it was racism. In tradition of the backstreet boys, they had assigned us all a character. Max was the All-American Sweetheart. Takao was the funny one. Kenny the nerdy one. And I the rich brat with the fucked up family. I was not even deemed likable enough to be the enigmatic bad boy.
-x-x-x-
I-70 turned out to be a remarkably idyllic route. Unique rock formations, brightly coloured soils, endless isolation. I had a soft spot for rustic landscapes, so I pulled out my phone to capture this breath taking, awe-inspiring composition with my grainy, built-in camera.
"I didn't know you were into photography." Ray remarked.
He had been trying to start quite a few conversations with me, usually by pointing out a minute, or obvious detail.
"Stop trying so hard."
I caught him longingly peaking over to Takao, Max, Kenny and Hiromi, who were having quite the lively chat. He probably regretted choosing a 5 hour bus ride as the time to patch things up with me.
I sighed. Part of making peace with him meant genuinely being nice, so I did him the favour of having a chat.
"I'm not big on it, I never get prints any more. But I did regret not taking any photos during our travels last year."
Ray's eyes lit up.
"Yeah, it is a shame. Maybe you should buy yourself a disposable one, that way you're forced to get them developed." he spurted.
Chill out there, Ray.
"I don't really care that much."
"I'll get you one then."
"Trying to bribe me, Kon?"
He put his hands up defensively. "No-no, of course not."
I love making people sweat. This time however, I could not suppress a grin. Unfortunately, he caught on to that.
"Are you messing with me?"
"Buy me that camera and you will find out."
He did. After our next pit stop, I was the proud owner of a (highly overpriced) disposable camera. To Ray's surprise I asked him to take a picture of me. He was even more surprised when I revealed that I planned to mail it to my grandfather.
"He has never been to the Rocky Mountains." I explained.
"Um, okay. I didn't think you still kept in contact. Smile!"
I refused. Smiling made me look like a pussy.
He snapped the photo anyway.
"He's still my grandfather, no matter what he did. I write him sometimes." I admitted.
It had been a while since last. Months. Before I had met Wyatt, which felt like eons ago. I shuddered at the thought of telling him about us. I typed out the hypothetical letter in my head.
Hey Granddaddy,
I'm sorry I haven't written in a while. I was busy turning gay and marrying my boyfriend.
Love you and please continue keeping me in your will,
Kai
Yeah, that wouldn't go over well. Maybe I should just tell him in person! Or never! I think he would actually prefer not knowing. Regrettably, I had promised my father that I would be the one bearing the news concerning our union. Either way, I needed to write him again. So, I tore a piece of paper out of the training schedule and did my best to come up with the right words.
Now this is the actual letter I composed for him:
Dear Grandfather,
I apologise for not having written any sooner. A lot has happened. As I told you in my last time, social services have been bothering me. They followed through on their threats and made me move to a boarding school. I am actually enjoying it more than I thought I would. You'll be pleased to hear that I have been patching things up with Dad. I have been spending a lot of weekends with him and am considering moving in permanently and attending my school as a day student. Also, I met someone I fancy. Someone from school.
That's as far as I got.
It was dark by the time we arrived at Aspen station. By now the air temperature had dropped significantly and the wind was icy with a bite to it. We were all under dressed and suffered for our insolence. Thanks to Kenny's tech savviness and Max's very American commitment to laziness, we arranged for a shuttle to take us to the hotel. I was one of the most vocal team members when it came to defending our independence, as it did come with a lot of freedoms, but I had to admit, moments like this make me jealous of the American team. They get to travel in style, meaning team buses and appropriate winter clothing.
"I don't want to sound nitpicky, but we should ask the BBA to make us team jackets that are composed of more than one layer." Takao suggested.
"And in a more flattering colour. Baby blue is so last season. Right, Kai?" Hiromi was looking at me for approval. They all were.
"How would I know?"
They exchanged uneasy glances with each other, seemingly hoping for someone else to speak up.
Then it dawned on me.
"So, because I'm gay, you assume I know fashion?"
"Take it as a compliment. Not everyone could combine a ladies' turtleneck with tracksuit pants, and make it look good!"
"Even I know as much as not mixing baggy with baggy, it's not rocket science."
It did sound like I had a clue. Oh god, what if he was right? This top was indeed a little girly. Maybe I should severely downgrade my outfit for next year's tournament. Show off how straight and manly I am by wearing something downright shabby, like a worker's overall.
-x-x-x-
At dawn the next day, we assembled in in the basement gym. Throughout the tournament, we stuck to a strict schedule of two three-hour training sessions per day, one in the morning, one in the afternoon. Halfway through, Takao interrupted me.
"Um, Kai, your bag has been vibrating for almost the entire time we got here and it's starting to creep me out."
Did he seriously think I would carry a vibrator around? As though me spending time away from my boyfriend meant I couldn't go three hours without having my butt pounded.
"Takao. It's my phone, turn it off if it's bothering you."
"I don't really want to look inside there."
Takao was giggling which assured me that he was joking but Kenny looked genuinely creeped out.
I muttered some insults under my breath and made my way over.
Turns out I was right, it had been my phone all along. I shoved it in their faces to prove my point.
"See. Nothing dodgy. You are a bunch of children."
"You have 21 missed calls." Takao pointed out.
I checked for myself. What the hell? Four of them were from Wyatt, two from my dad. The rest were unknown numbers.
There was one text. From Wyatt. It was short but it told me everything.
"They know"
The stray hairs on my back rose up, as that feeling of uneasiness crept from my neck, down to my fingertips. For a moment, I could not breathe. I was choking on air. This was bad. The press knew. Now everyone I associated with would find out. My team, my competitors, my grandfather! I was royally fucked!
Wyatt's parents only gave him the newest tech to make up for the fact that they didn't show him enough affection. The phone he had passed on to me was one of those modern Blackberrys that could connect to the Wi-Fi to read articles on the integrated World News tool. I decided to search for my name, to find out how much information the journalists had on me. On us. I was no longer solely responsible for my own reputation! I hoped that we got lucky, and this was something we could pass off as a joke.
But no, they had the picture. The one the phone-obsessed girl had taken of us at the courthouse. The girl that had always been chewing gum and texting. Our "witness".
We really should have given this whole thing more thought.
Turns out she had posted the picture to her MySpace page right that day, but people had failed to recognise me until my face popped up more prominently in the news. My team's success had been my downfall.
Damn those high-resolution phone cameras. The person in the photo was clearly me. Even though I was dressed in an understated way, and my name was not entirely legible on the certificate.
"Kai, what's up?"
"I need to go. Don't come looking for me."
My teammates were calling out for me as I was gunning for the exit.
I hadn't always been a coward.
As soon as I opened the door to the lobby I was hit by a wave of flashing lights.
Press was always bad at this stage of the tournament, but for the first time, all the attention was directed at me. I pushed my way through the crowd, resisting the urge to flip them off, or worse, run and cry like a baby.
They were yelling all sorts of invasive questions at me. I did not dare to say a word.
"Kai, are you gay?"
"Is it true that you married your boyfriend?"
"Why would you marry him now? Could you not wait until you got older?"
Beats me. I guess I'm just an irresponsible fuck-up.
Then one of them asked me something that I couldn't just leave hanging.
"Did you marry him for the money?"
"What?" I stopped in my tracks.
"Some people are calling you a gold digger."
I sighed in frustration. How could they come up with such a ludicrous idea.
"Seriously now? We're both wealthy."
"He has a net worth of 30 million dollars, which is a considerably more than you are worth."
30 million? Wyatt never mentioned that. This guy's sources had to be off by a few decimals.
"Listen, we eloped. We didn't put that much thought into it ourselves. Don't over analyse it."
"Are admitting to marrying him?"
"You've seen the picture, it's not like denying is still an option."
I tried to play it cool, but I was very much on edge.
Somehow, I managed to get passed them. I instructed the hotel guards to not let them anywhere near my room. Once I reached my sanctuary, I collapsed onto my bed. Would be nice to hide away for a while. But it was time to tackle reality. I took a deep breath, then unlocked my phone. I waited for the World News tool to buffer, then selected the gossip category. No need to type my name in the search bar, as the headline read: "Kai Hiwatari regretfully admits to marriage accusations".
Great, how did they get that out of nothing? I hate the press.
Okay, Kai, be rational. Best thing to do now is to make an action plan, I told myself. What's the goal? Minimising damage. What would be the most logical course of action? Discuss with Wyatt what exactly our statements would be. Call in a press conference. Request no questions.
Could I do that?
Probably. Or I could just answer "no comment". That was a safe line.
Okay, after the press conference continue in the competition as if nothing happened. And soon they will get bored.
Good.
It was not a perfect plan, the outcome would still be shit. But it was a plan.
Step one.
Wyatt picked up right away.
"Kai, are you alright?"
No point in asking how I was. Stressed, shaken, ashamed. We both felt the same way. At least, that was what I assumed.
"I'm alright. But this is bad."
"Did you see my message on time or were you blindsided?"
"I saw it." Though it had done little to make the situation any less overwhelming. "They still caught me off guard."
"They have been calling my father's office all day."
I gasped. Him too? "What did he tell them?"
"Don't worry, he refuses to speak to reporters."
That was a relief. I hadn't actually considered how Wyatt's parents would feel about this. Probably wouldn't be happy.
"Is he mad?"
"Dad? Nah, he's doing this weird guild trip thing where he keeps on saying I'm on my own now, so I will have to live with the consequences of my actions."
"He disowned you?"
If that was how Wyatt's Dad reacted, then the magnitude of my grandfather's rage would lie beyond comprehension. He was part of the generation that grew up to the subtle indoctrination that true homosexuality was a myth. In fact, I could not recall him ever even acknowledging gay people. As far as I knew, he could be denying their very existence.
Wyatt corrected himself.
"No, no. Nothing like that! I'm 18 now, so he wants me to take responsibility for my shenanigans. Honestly, I'm not that bothered about the press finding out. It sucks that they treat us like an attraction and print bullshit headlines. But, you know what? I'm proud of the fact that you are my man! And now everyone knows you chose me. So, that makes me happy."
Turns out we were not on the same wavelength after all.
"This press situation makes me feel anxious and violated." I objected.
Unlike him I did not feel comfortable laying my feelings out on the table like that. I did not want anyone to know what I was thinking, how I felt or who I was on the inside. All those traits that made me "me" were only for myself to understand. My blood curdled when thinking about people drawing conclusions about my psyche, based solely on how they interpreted a few disjointed details of my life.
Unfortunately, one thing rang true for all matters of information: The less one was willing to provide, the more gaps were filled. Both consciously, potentially out of malice, and subconsciously, out of a desire to make sense of it all. This was the space where faulty connections were drawn, and outlandish ideas were born.
It is what lay in that space, that I was afraid of.
Question is, what was worse? What might emerge from there, or revealing a vulnerable side of me to the world?
"They're calling me a gold digger. Say you have a net worth of a 30 million. Is that true?"
"I wouldn't know. I don't care about any of that net worth rankings posh crap. I know it's a high amount, but that's all because of my dad. But I'm not planning on taking over his company, so..."
True. He was too lazy for that. Wyatt was smart but he was the type of person who would be content living off his trustfund and working a low stress job for the rest of his life.
Oh no. Did I, through some obscure abandonment-oedipus complex, marry my father?
Scary thought. I tried to shake it off.
"I didn't know you were that wealthy."
"It's not something that casually comes up in conversation."
"I didn't marry you for the money." I insisted.
He burst into laughter. It took him a good minute until he calmed down.
"Wasn't worried about that, Kiki." he assured me. "You married me more for the same motivations someone gets a tattoo on vacation."
"Huh? You make no sense, whatsoever."
"You wanted something to regret. You are a world champion title holder, but you were afraid you would waste your teen years without a good story to tell."
He was correct in thinking that it was one of the reasons. But there were so many more. I just was not able to put them into words.
"We both have our reasons, some good, some bad. I am not going to hold them against you. One of the reasons I married you was to make you mine before you changed your mind." Wyatt admitted. "Since I'm the first guy you have fallen for, there is the risk that once you realise there are more attractive, more well adapted men out there, you will dump me. Being married makes it a lot harder for you to do so."
"How possessive of you."
"Very."
"You're in luck. One of the things I like about you is how much you are into me." I pointed out.
He snickered. "Self-absorbed, much?"
"Both my dad and grandfather had their own, unique way of making me feel unappreciated. So, you should thank them for my willingness to settle without thinking it through." I replied sarcastically.
"I'll be sure to do that." There was a pause. "Seems we both have some deeply rooted issues, eh?" He chuckled.
"Seems so."
"Now what do we tell the press?"
"Definitely none of that."
"Should we go with the usual: say we are in love and that jazz?"
"Hell no. That's embarrassing."
Merely thinking about it had me flustered.
"Then what? Say we are sincere, but not sappy?"
"Something along those lines."
"Just two cool bros, married to each other." Wyatt suggested.
"Just make it sound normal."
But what was normal? We were already made a spectacle of. At this point, was it even possible to turn it down a few notches?