[je] fic: boku dake no love song (ryo/shige)
Title: Boku Dake No Love Song
Written: 091208
Chapter: Part 1
Summary: Shige has 2 weeks to help Ryo and his band get ready for their maiden act. Loosely based off the movie 《海角7号》. Ryo/Shige. AU. WC: 1059.
Fandom: Johnny's Entertainment
Notes: 'Cape No. 7' was an awesome movie, and this was much harder to write than I thought it would be, so it's full of FAIL and hyphenated sentences like whoa. Please try to ignore the horribly cheesy title.
“Stop. Stop! STOP!” The discordant jamming and howling of the instruments suddenly cut off as Shige finally makes his voice heard over the incredible din - there's just no other word he can use to describe it.
The young music producer feels the flush heating his cheeks and the tips of his ears with the blood rushing to his face when virtually everyone's eyes turn to him.
“Nishikido-kun, can I talk to you for a moment?”
Nishikido Ryo - the vocalist-cum-guitarist for the as-yet-unnamed last-minute band formed as the opening act of Shibutani Subaru & Flat Five Flowers' upcoming concert - looks up with apparent indifference, stops fiddling with the strings on his guitar and steps down from the low stage wordlessly.
Shige waits until the doors to the soundproof rehearsal room have shut behind him. “What the fuck was that?!” he almost shouts, agitated enough for his control to slip, something that seems to be occurring with increasing frequency whenever he has to deal with the recalcitrant man leaning back against the wall, hands in his pockets.
“What the fuck was what?” Ryo replies nonchalantly.
Shige decides that glaring at Ryo is a futile act since he can't shoot any laser beams from his eyes that could possibly incinerate Ryo's brain or at the very least, melt that ridiculously sullen the-world-owes-me-big expression off his features. He turns around to take a deep breath but the memory of the disorganised jangling pretending and pathetically failing to pass off as music brings his ire up again. He spins back, pointing accusingly at the door.
“That! I mean... god, where do I even start?” Shige is about ready to tear his hair out.
“You are two weeks away from opening Flat Five Flowers' concert and this is your band,” Shige gestures despairingly at towards the room, “you and Ueda can't seem to go five minutes without sniping at one another and I have yet to hear your two guitars create anything remotely resembling a harmony. Stop trying to outdo each other!” Shige's pacing back and forth, not noticing how Ryo's eyes trail his figure intently. “No one can deny that Tegoshi is talented, but he just goes off on a riff whenever he likes - that self-centeredness of his is messing up things even further. This isn't his piano solo, he needs to coordinate with the rest of the band.”
Ryo merely shrugs, which only riles Shige up all the more.
“And the bass player who's supposed to replace Nakamaru-kun after he had his accident doesn't even seem to know that there are four strings on a bass guitar!” Shige steps back in a half-stumble to lean against the opposite wall, shoulders sagging. “Yokoyama-kun is a really nice guy, but it's obvious that he can't play that instrument to save his life. At least Nakamaru-kun could get a basic rhythm going.” Shige shakes his head tiredly.
Ryo keeps quiet. There is just no adequate euphemism for Yoko blackmailing his way into the band, threatening to shout out from the rooftops Ryo's inexplicable crush on their music producer - the very same one currently spitting fire in front of him (and still being extremely attractive while doing so) - unless Yoko got a chance to be onstage as well.
“And you.”
Shige interrupts Ryo's thoughts and the vocalist glances up to see Shige gazing back at him, disappointment written across his face. Ryo's hands fist themselves in his pockets at the unexpected clenching of his heart.
“You were supposed to have two songs ready for when Subaru-kun gets here, but so far I've only heard one song, which is something you wrote ages ago, and it's not even being performed very well.” Shige pauses for a moment, brow furrowed. “Actually, I don't even recall it being played from beginning to end.”
Shige stares at Ryo, who's now looking anywhere but at him. “You haven't even written the second song, have you?” The words leave Shige's mouth slowly, like he's trying to stop himself, because once they're said, then they would have to be true.
He comes over to stand next to Ryo. “Nishikido-kun, are you serious about this or not?”
Ryo tenses at Shige's proximity, making himself refrain from inhaling too deeply the musky scent of Shige's cologne. At this distance, Shige's eyes seem larger than normal, and Ryo wants to reach out and ease away the wrinkles marring the smoothness of the skin of Shige's forehead. He also wants for these sappy thoughts to be replaced by something more constructive so he can use them in a proper conversation and thus appear more motivated and competent.
“A couple of years ago, I heard someone singing in this tiny bar in Osaka. The backing band wasn't great, and the singer's voice control could have been better, but there was no denying his passion. It infected everyone in the room, I couldn't look away.” Shige's gazing at nothing, lost in his recollection, and Ryo can't look away from Shige's face, illuminated by his nostalgia.
But Shige's expression dims. “Where's that passion now, Nishikido-kun?”
The space between them is thick with Shige's frustration and Ryo's obstinate silence.
In the end, Shige sighs softly. “I'm sorry, maybe I'm just not the right person to help you.”
And Shige is gone before Ryo has time to catch his arm, to stop him and tell him 'no'.
Ryo sinks to the floor, running his hands through his hair as he lets out an explosive breath.
The door to the rehearsal room creaks open and Yoko peeks his head out. Seeing that the coast is clear, he crouches down next to Ryo, patting his shoulder consolingly.
“You do know you are a big part of the problem, don't you?” Ryo points out irritably.
Yoko has the grace to look at least a little embarrassed, although it doesn't help improve Ryo's mood much.
“That went well.”
“Shut up, donkey-face.” Ryo glares up at Ueda's arrogant smirking face.
“You should just jump him, get it out of your system, and spare the rest of us from your repressed gay angst,” Ueda continues as if Ryo has never spoken.
As usual, Ryo can't think of a decent comeback and resorts to sticking out a leg to kick Ueda instead.
end part 1
A/N: comments are always appreciated :)
part 2
Written: 091208
Chapter: Part 1
Summary: Shige has 2 weeks to help Ryo and his band get ready for their maiden act. Loosely based off the movie 《海角7号》. Ryo/Shige. AU. WC: 1059.
Fandom: Johnny's Entertainment
Notes: 'Cape No. 7' was an awesome movie, and this was much harder to write than I thought it would be, so it's full of FAIL and hyphenated sentences like whoa. Please try to ignore the horribly cheesy title.
“Stop. Stop! STOP!” The discordant jamming and howling of the instruments suddenly cut off as Shige finally makes his voice heard over the incredible din - there's just no other word he can use to describe it.
The young music producer feels the flush heating his cheeks and the tips of his ears with the blood rushing to his face when virtually everyone's eyes turn to him.
“Nishikido-kun, can I talk to you for a moment?”
Nishikido Ryo - the vocalist-cum-guitarist for the as-yet-unnamed last-minute band formed as the opening act of Shibutani Subaru & Flat Five Flowers' upcoming concert - looks up with apparent indifference, stops fiddling with the strings on his guitar and steps down from the low stage wordlessly.
Shige waits until the doors to the soundproof rehearsal room have shut behind him. “What the fuck was that?!” he almost shouts, agitated enough for his control to slip, something that seems to be occurring with increasing frequency whenever he has to deal with the recalcitrant man leaning back against the wall, hands in his pockets.
“What the fuck was what?” Ryo replies nonchalantly.
Shige decides that glaring at Ryo is a futile act since he can't shoot any laser beams from his eyes that could possibly incinerate Ryo's brain or at the very least, melt that ridiculously sullen the-world-owes-me-big expression off his features. He turns around to take a deep breath but the memory of the disorganised jangling pretending and pathetically failing to pass off as music brings his ire up again. He spins back, pointing accusingly at the door.
“That! I mean... god, where do I even start?” Shige is about ready to tear his hair out.
“You are two weeks away from opening Flat Five Flowers' concert and this is your band,” Shige gestures despairingly at towards the room, “you and Ueda can't seem to go five minutes without sniping at one another and I have yet to hear your two guitars create anything remotely resembling a harmony. Stop trying to outdo each other!” Shige's pacing back and forth, not noticing how Ryo's eyes trail his figure intently. “No one can deny that Tegoshi is talented, but he just goes off on a riff whenever he likes - that self-centeredness of his is messing up things even further. This isn't his piano solo, he needs to coordinate with the rest of the band.”
Ryo merely shrugs, which only riles Shige up all the more.
“And the bass player who's supposed to replace Nakamaru-kun after he had his accident doesn't even seem to know that there are four strings on a bass guitar!” Shige steps back in a half-stumble to lean against the opposite wall, shoulders sagging. “Yokoyama-kun is a really nice guy, but it's obvious that he can't play that instrument to save his life. At least Nakamaru-kun could get a basic rhythm going.” Shige shakes his head tiredly.
Ryo keeps quiet. There is just no adequate euphemism for Yoko blackmailing his way into the band, threatening to shout out from the rooftops Ryo's inexplicable crush on their music producer - the very same one currently spitting fire in front of him (and still being extremely attractive while doing so) - unless Yoko got a chance to be onstage as well.
“And you.”
Shige interrupts Ryo's thoughts and the vocalist glances up to see Shige gazing back at him, disappointment written across his face. Ryo's hands fist themselves in his pockets at the unexpected clenching of his heart.
“You were supposed to have two songs ready for when Subaru-kun gets here, but so far I've only heard one song, which is something you wrote ages ago, and it's not even being performed very well.” Shige pauses for a moment, brow furrowed. “Actually, I don't even recall it being played from beginning to end.”
Shige stares at Ryo, who's now looking anywhere but at him. “You haven't even written the second song, have you?” The words leave Shige's mouth slowly, like he's trying to stop himself, because once they're said, then they would have to be true.
He comes over to stand next to Ryo. “Nishikido-kun, are you serious about this or not?”
Ryo tenses at Shige's proximity, making himself refrain from inhaling too deeply the musky scent of Shige's cologne. At this distance, Shige's eyes seem larger than normal, and Ryo wants to reach out and ease away the wrinkles marring the smoothness of the skin of Shige's forehead. He also wants for these sappy thoughts to be replaced by something more constructive so he can use them in a proper conversation and thus appear more motivated and competent.
“A couple of years ago, I heard someone singing in this tiny bar in Osaka. The backing band wasn't great, and the singer's voice control could have been better, but there was no denying his passion. It infected everyone in the room, I couldn't look away.” Shige's gazing at nothing, lost in his recollection, and Ryo can't look away from Shige's face, illuminated by his nostalgia.
But Shige's expression dims. “Where's that passion now, Nishikido-kun?”
The space between them is thick with Shige's frustration and Ryo's obstinate silence.
In the end, Shige sighs softly. “I'm sorry, maybe I'm just not the right person to help you.”
And Shige is gone before Ryo has time to catch his arm, to stop him and tell him 'no'.
Ryo sinks to the floor, running his hands through his hair as he lets out an explosive breath.
The door to the rehearsal room creaks open and Yoko peeks his head out. Seeing that the coast is clear, he crouches down next to Ryo, patting his shoulder consolingly.
“You do know you are a big part of the problem, don't you?” Ryo points out irritably.
Yoko has the grace to look at least a little embarrassed, although it doesn't help improve Ryo's mood much.
“That went well.”
“Shut up, donkey-face.” Ryo glares up at Ueda's arrogant smirking face.
“You should just jump him, get it out of your system, and spare the rest of us from your repressed gay angst,” Ueda continues as if Ryo has never spoken.
As usual, Ryo can't think of a decent comeback and resorts to sticking out a leg to kick Ueda instead.
end part 1
A/N: comments are always appreciated :)
part 2