My Heart Draws A Dream- Chapter Two
Title: My Heart Draws A Dream!
Author: EarnestInBerlin
Theme: 002. Alcohol
Rating: PG
Pairing: MiyavixBou
Band[s]: Solo Miyavi, Antic Cafe
Disclaimer: Maybe when hell freezes over and Gackt decides to return to Malice Mizer, who knows?
Comments: I read off in Wiki that Miyavi’s surname used to be Lee, so you know… Edgar Allan Poe anyone? Um, well, I might rewrite some part of this again if ever. But right now I just want to post this up. XDD
Summary: Bou is your not so average cross dressing student who has been going to Holy Garden University for the last two (and a half!) years. All he wants (and needs) is a quiet life and to finally graduate from the horrid school he’s been forced to attend.
Not going to happen to this cross dresser.
Chapitre Deux
Dark colored soda sprayed out of a mouth surprised, leaving Bou quite wet and disgusted as he waited for his best friend to calm down.
“You what???” the said friend being none other than Miku, who was now looking at him with eyes wider than plates. “You… are… You’re joking right?”
But all he got in return was a depressed look, and Miku knew there was no lie in what he just heard. He knew there was nothing right when Bou just went to the kitchen and made dinner. The blond has a peculiar habit of cooking food whenever something bad happens. However the brunette didn’t expect that the ‘something bad’ had to be a Red Card.
“I… I don’t know what to do” Bou started, he was confused. After hitting- by accident, he would like to emphasize that little fact- the ore-sama on the face, then getting a Red Card right in front of everyone… It seemed like he just destroyed all bits of his hope, and his dreams
He hit head on the wall, what a way to loose your future.
Bou sat on his legs, looking down on their floor, his hands in nervous fists crunching the end of his yellow apron. With his head bowed down, the tenseness and anxiety on his face being curtained by his yellow locks.
“I'm so scared, Miku…”
It was unfair, Bou heard Miku stand from where he sat and felt his best friend’s arms wrap around him.
“Hey, it’s not that bad… you’re going to make it, Bou” Miku said “You’re Bou after all… the bitch who kicks ass, right? With a nice one to boot” The brunette tried to, but he couldn’t but give Bou a small slap on the girly boy’s derriere.
He gave his grinning friend a punch on the chest, “It’s not funny, Miku” he hissed, and then let his hand go to his recently ‘owned’ butt. All the other could do was laugh as he saw his best friend’s red face. “I so fucking hate you right now!”
“I love you too, sweetheart”
“Miku! I am in a life and death situation! You do not go practice your lame pick-up lines on your best friend who is about to meet his demise!”
“Bou, come on! You’re going to fight! What else can you do?!” Miku held his shoulders and looked at his eyes, “You can kick their sorry butts, especially that Miyavi’s! Just because he wiped the floor with wimps doesn’t mean anything!”
“Um, basically using people as mops is already a good indication that… I don’t know, he’s going to murder me?!”
“You can’t just give up like those other guys!”
“Why not?” the blond boy asked desperately “If you haven’t noticed, the guys he tried to kill were all rich kids… Kids from family with power and money! If he could do that to those all those wusses… I don’t even want to think what he might do to me!!!” Bou said, panicking all the time, thinking of all the possible evils that could happen to him.
“And if you haven’t noticed, you’re acting like a chicken!” Miku threw right back, “So what? Don’t back out just because they’re going to treat you like shit!”
“But…” the blond looked worried again, “I'm all alone there…”
“What about Teruki? Remember?”
“NO!” Bou pushed Miku away roughly, “Teruki already has a lots of things to take care! I just can’t go and bother him with my stupid problems!”
“And Miyavi isn’t that a big problem anymore?”
“Oh don’t you dare twist my words, asshole”
“But, Bou… Teruki loves you, and you know that-”
“And I like Teruki too, but…” the blond boy had to accentuate the word. True he always calls Teruki his ‘hatsukoi’- in secret, of course. It was also true that the other boy seems to like him also; however Bou wasn’t sure if he was ready for those kinds of things. “I'm not going to call him up because of this… it’s troublesome, and I don’t want to drag Teruki in this”
They were quiet.
“I was serious when I said Teruki loves you”
“I was serious when I said I don’t want to trouble him” Bou added firmly, “He’s busy; he’s not like us… He’s one of them-”
“So…? That didn’t stop him from getting out of his limousine that time just to play with you…” Miku leaned forward making Bou lean back away, his face graced with a playful beam.
“But his parents got mad!”
“And I don’t think any of us cared about that fact”
“AHHHHHHHH!!!” Bou wailed, very loudly at that, running his hands through his hair in exasperation.
“Hey!!” Miku clasped a hand over the blond’s mouth, and then he whispered hastily “What the fuck was that about? Do you want the landlady to kick us out??”
“What the fuck is going on there!” a male voice from the left permeated through the walls, banging on the walls, “There are people who actually sleep!!”
Bou and Miku just gawked at the wall from where the voice came from. The feminine boy couldn’t say much, especially with Miku’s hand over his lips.
They both sighed.
“Man…” finally takes his hand off from the other’s face, Miku’s voice lowering down in volume, “Why did you have to go and scream like that???”
“Can you drop it between me and Teruki!?” the girly boy hissed, “He’s a rich boy, and he has a company to look after when he graduates from his school… Teruki won’t have time to play hooky with us like we used to…”
“But…”
“I'm clearing tonight if that will make you shut up” Bou said, standing up with a couple of half empty bowls already in his hands.
He didn’t have to look back to know that Miku was looking at him with those sad eyes again. The ones he gave him the other day in the shop. The ones he gives him everyday now that he finally took time to notice.
“Look, I have bigger problems to attend to…” the blond said, mentally cursing at how his life sucked so badly. Maybe transferring schools wasn’t that of a bad idea…
“OF COURSE NOT!” Miku shouted, making Bou jump- and at the same time how on earth did the other boy read his thoughts like that. “You’re going to fight that dense jerk Miyavi! And you’re going to teach him that he’s just an airhead!!”
“SHUT UP OVER THERE!”
Bou just hit Miku on the back of his head. “Baka”
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“Good evening, Young Master”
Miyavi grabbed the butler by the collar, “What the fuck did you just call me?”
“I'm sorry, sir! It won’t happen-”
“I told you to call me ‘Ore-sama’! ‘Ore-sama’!” the boy shouted, glaring at the poor man. The other whimpered and he smirked then let go. He walked forward, his head held up high and proud with a grin on his face.
“Those god damn assholes…” Miyavi fell with a small ‘flop’ on the couch, he settled himself cozily and flipped open his cell phone “Hey, Sugizo? Yeah, I'm going, why not? Oh, fuck off… You think you’re so big and all, well fucktard-”
“Watch your language, boy”
The boy fell from his comfortable position on the couch when he heard that voice. Muffled voices went unheard on his phone as it lay forgotten on the floor, he looked up and over at the door.
He wasn’t mistaken- the many attendants was a really bad giveaway, Miyavi thought to himself. There around five of them, all dressed in pin stripped business suits, and a look of seriousness etched on their features.
One of them, he was stationed at the left, carried a bag that was that boasted Italian craftsmanship. Another carried papers and what seemed to be like the day’s newspaper. The other two were just following attendants, there if just in case their service would be needed. And the last one, the one who seemed the oldest of them with the gray hairs that was brushed along with his few black, was holding what seemed to be a small BlackBerry.
All of them served only one important purpose: to follow each and every whim of Annabel Lee.
“… Oka-san…” the tall boy hissed under his breath.
Miyavi’s mother was quite the lady. Despite her Western-like name, she is full-blooded Japanese, it just so happens that her adoptive parent were both foreigners. She was strong and cold, but quite a sight to behold even at the old of forty-eight.
Miyavi rose from his spot and just glared at the woman.
“We shall be having dinner together, dear”
The old female passed by without glancing at her son, her many attendants following every of her footsteps. Their purpose for in going to that room was just to pass by it as to reach her office.
If Miyavi knew the old hag was coming home that day, he would have hid himself away in another corner of their grand mansion.
It wasn’t that he doesn’t like his mother.
He abhors her very existence.
The young boy watched all of them, leaving him behind in their vast living room.
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Their table was wide and big, a very big space that left absolutely little to no room for conversation. However, they weren’t very good in the skill of talking about simple daily life. His Oka-san- or old hag, as he would rather call her- sat at a far end of the table. The young boy sat at the opposite side.
Mrs. Lee made use of the knife and fork, as she cut in half the fine meat served. Miyavi stared at the prepared dish set in front of him.
“How was school, honey…?” the old woman asked, before taking a bite from her meal.
“Since when did you care…?” the young one jeered, he didn’t lower the volume of his voice. He’d rather let her hear his true thoughts about her than hide them away. “You’re always there in New York… why did you even bother coming back?” he snorted.
Miyavi’s mother, truth be told, was anything but that. She was a smart businesswoman and a very powerful one. She was the one, who built all the companies that fed their lavish lifestyle.
But she was nowhere near a mother, having spent too much of her time on stock market reports and such. Frankly, she doesn’t seem to mind at all.
“Souchirou” she put down her utensils, calling her right hand man. The old man carrying the BlackBerry stepped forward at her command, “Please call the chef”
He bowed down, “Yes madam”
Souchirou signaled for the two maids that were stationed at the door. Miyavi couldn’t help but feel an odd sense of dread; he watched as his mother gave him a very disturbing look of mock joy on her face.
“Good evening, madam” the head chef arrived; he took of his tall white hat and bowed down before the lady in deep respect.
Their gazes still connected, the madam announced, “You make horrible dishes, starting tomorrow, you are no longer a part of this household”
Miyavi was surprised- and to his annoyance- he let it show. That was totally uncalled for. However no one was as surprised as the chef himself, he didn’t move at first but when the truth finally sank in he tried to speak. But he was restrained by the lady’s right hand man.
The young boy looked at his mother with all the hate and loathing he could ever muster. But she mocked him with her false face of motherly love.
He lifted his fork and knife, and then started to eat.
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“Bitch. Bitch. Bitch.” Miyavi chanted heatedly.
“Hey, watch your mouth over there” Sugizo joked, sitting leisurely on one side of the pool table, “Or else we might wash your dirty little mouth with soap”
“Do you have a problem with I do, huh, Sugizo?” the boy demanded with a fist grabbing his friend’s lapels.
“Hey, you two” Yoshiko butted in, leaning forward as to aim his stick properly for the balls, “Don’t even start”
Sugizo just lifted his shoulders and gave his mate a little grin. Miyavi let go, very roughly of course.
Miyavi threw his stick and it hit the ground, breaking the end. His two companions looked at each other, Yoshiko mouthed ‘what happened’ to which Sugizo just rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. The former sighed; handling a very pissed Miyavi wasn’t a fun job.
He can be really childish.
“Hey, what’s got your panties tied in a bunch?” Sugizo gave him a pat in the head.
Being pissed as he was, he just swatted that hand off, “Don’t touch me asshole”
“Ooh, someone’s touchie today…”
“Hey, Sugizo, let’s just drop the whole thing okay…?” Yoshiki said, raising his hands in a truce, “It’s troublesome cleaning after your mess, you know…?”
“Oh sure…” Sugizo started off handedly, Miyavi just turned his head away in annoyance at his cheerful friend, “Let’s talk about something else then… like say, Meev-kun…”
“Sugizo…”
“I just noticed that we have a pretty little girl in our hands for the first time…” the boy just plopped him down beside the other, “Shouldn’t we be… you know, a bit nice? I mean after all… it is a girl-”
“I don’t care!” the boy with the many tattoos declared, “She’s has to go through what everyone went! Even if she is a girl!”
“But… Meev…” Yoshiki started, leaning on the pool table, “Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh? I mean, come on… Girls are fragile. You-”
“If I can’t take care of one little school… how am I going to take care of a big company? The real world’s a bitch, you have to be bitchier!”
“You do realize your logic is… how can I say this?” Sugizo pretended to think, “Fucked up?”
“So?” Miyavi started, “Once a fucktard gets a red card, the said fucktard is doomed unless he or she gets the hell out of my school”
“Heh, you’re school…?” Sugizo just shook his head, “This is rich…”
“Where’s Gackt? Didn’t you guys call him?”
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A wine glass lifted in the air, rounding the wine making it run circles inside while he waited.
The stars were pleasant tonight, two or three running away into the unknown.
He almost made a wish at the sight.
“Who’s this interesting person you mentioned?” dark curls tied neatly with two black ribbons. A beautiful face painted with hues that contradicted the extremely white skin and a baby doll dress that matched the color of the evening skies. The speaker’s hands were covered in lacy material, the same clothe that was used for the dress the person was wearing.
“Very noisy, I can tell you that” Gackt smiled, he took a sip from his glass.
“Someone other than Miyavi-kun…?” the other giggled, leaning on a hand while staring lazily at the drink the blond held in his hands. “This has to be a very interesting person indeed”
For a moment, the boy grinned and laughed something he doesn’t do anymore. “Yes, someone else… other than Miyavi…”
“Who’s that other person you’re always with now days…?”
“Ah… you’re talking about Takarai…?”
“Un”
“What about Takarai?” Gackt asked, it sounded soft but beneath the tone was the demand for an answer.
He stared at what the other stared, and it was the deep dark red of the wine he had been sipping on.
It was a hundred year old drink, a little gift his companion bought from France.
The other didn’t really show expression, but just shrugged shoulders, “He seems like a nice person, you know…”
They settled for a few moments.
A grin on Gackt’s face whiles a small almost unseen beam on the other’s lips. A table for two underneath a large canvass of twinkling dots with a violin somewhere in the back played by a professional to please and to give feeling to their surroundings.
“You really like this restaurant… don’t you?” the blond asked in an almost unheard whisper, looking for his reflection in his beverage. It wasn’t much of a question, more of a voiced observation, or rather a bitter sentiment coated with a different set of words.
The other sighed, “Regardless of feelings, Gackt-kun, I'm still leaving for France”
And Gackt looked up at the sky and waited for a falling star.
“I know”
But there was none.
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For most part of the morning
It was those old houses, the abandoned ones just outside big cities. It had aged and is dying bit by bit, and he really couldn’t find it in himself to wonder how the small light above him managed to flicker on.
One
Two
Three… if his head wasn’t hazy, he could almost count the number of cans on the floor, those little that were left crushed by his hands. But the circles in his brain were spinning quite too fast in the opposite direction.
He found himself in those sad little rooms, the ones with the yellow lights that wasn’t enough. The walls were cracked, especially on this one side, he wonders if the coming and going of rains killed it.
He grabbed his head, he could almost hear his voice again.
“You know how I can’t stay here anymore!”
“My brother! My brother always comes home with these horrid scars, and I just can’t stand seeing him hurt that way anymore…”
Yeah, he saw him, that once perky little boy, his innocence mutilated and now… The wounds on his body were scary.
He held his brother close to his chest, whilst the younger one just cried on his shoulder. The boy looked up at him, “Can’t you see? Japan is a terrible place; I knew it all along… I should’ve just stayed in New York with Oka-san!”
At that time, he wanted to open his mouth, tell him there were other good schools in Japan. They didn’t have to go back.
“Fuck those other schools, look at my brother! He looks like what World War II spat out! This is the most prestigious school in Japan, you said so yourself! If this is what students have to face through, then I don’t even want to know what will happen if he goes to other schools!”
“But you don’t have to go…” his head really hurts a lot.
“Why do you care anyway? I'm not even part of your life anymore, you just came barging in while I was packing, demanding me to stay… why? What am I to you exactly anyway?”
“You’re…”
They stood for a moment, the rain too loud and everything running away to places that doesn’t exist.
“I… I…” he started; they have to come out now.
“Yes?”
“I…”
“I have to go” he turned around and left, the door shut behind him. The whole world crumbled after that for the one left behind.
“I'm going to fucking kill that Miyavi…” he hissed to the stagnant air.
Chapitre Un
Author: EarnestInBerlin
Theme: 002. Alcohol
Rating: PG
Pairing: MiyavixBou
Band[s]: Solo Miyavi, Antic Cafe
Disclaimer: Maybe when hell freezes over and Gackt decides to return to Malice Mizer, who knows?
Comments: I read off in Wiki that Miyavi’s surname used to be Lee, so you know… Edgar Allan Poe anyone? Um, well, I might rewrite some part of this again if ever. But right now I just want to post this up. XDD
Summary: Bou is your not so average cross dressing student who has been going to Holy Garden University for the last two (and a half!) years. All he wants (and needs) is a quiet life and to finally graduate from the horrid school he’s been forced to attend.
Not going to happen to this cross dresser.
Chapitre Deux
Dark colored soda sprayed out of a mouth surprised, leaving Bou quite wet and disgusted as he waited for his best friend to calm down.
“You what???” the said friend being none other than Miku, who was now looking at him with eyes wider than plates. “You… are… You’re joking right?”
But all he got in return was a depressed look, and Miku knew there was no lie in what he just heard. He knew there was nothing right when Bou just went to the kitchen and made dinner. The blond has a peculiar habit of cooking food whenever something bad happens. However the brunette didn’t expect that the ‘something bad’ had to be a Red Card.
“I… I don’t know what to do” Bou started, he was confused. After hitting- by accident, he would like to emphasize that little fact- the ore-sama on the face, then getting a Red Card right in front of everyone… It seemed like he just destroyed all bits of his hope, and his dreams
He hit head on the wall, what a way to loose your future.
Bou sat on his legs, looking down on their floor, his hands in nervous fists crunching the end of his yellow apron. With his head bowed down, the tenseness and anxiety on his face being curtained by his yellow locks.
“I'm so scared, Miku…”
It was unfair, Bou heard Miku stand from where he sat and felt his best friend’s arms wrap around him.
“Hey, it’s not that bad… you’re going to make it, Bou” Miku said “You’re Bou after all… the bitch who kicks ass, right? With a nice one to boot” The brunette tried to, but he couldn’t but give Bou a small slap on the girly boy’s derriere.
He gave his grinning friend a punch on the chest, “It’s not funny, Miku” he hissed, and then let his hand go to his recently ‘owned’ butt. All the other could do was laugh as he saw his best friend’s red face. “I so fucking hate you right now!”
“I love you too, sweetheart”
“Miku! I am in a life and death situation! You do not go practice your lame pick-up lines on your best friend who is about to meet his demise!”
“Bou, come on! You’re going to fight! What else can you do?!” Miku held his shoulders and looked at his eyes, “You can kick their sorry butts, especially that Miyavi’s! Just because he wiped the floor with wimps doesn’t mean anything!”
“Um, basically using people as mops is already a good indication that… I don’t know, he’s going to murder me?!”
“You can’t just give up like those other guys!”
“Why not?” the blond boy asked desperately “If you haven’t noticed, the guys he tried to kill were all rich kids… Kids from family with power and money! If he could do that to those all those wusses… I don’t even want to think what he might do to me!!!” Bou said, panicking all the time, thinking of all the possible evils that could happen to him.
“And if you haven’t noticed, you’re acting like a chicken!” Miku threw right back, “So what? Don’t back out just because they’re going to treat you like shit!”
“But…” the blond looked worried again, “I'm all alone there…”
“What about Teruki? Remember?”
“NO!” Bou pushed Miku away roughly, “Teruki already has a lots of things to take care! I just can’t go and bother him with my stupid problems!”
“And Miyavi isn’t that a big problem anymore?”
“Oh don’t you dare twist my words, asshole”
“But, Bou… Teruki loves you, and you know that-”
“And I like Teruki too, but…” the blond boy had to accentuate the word. True he always calls Teruki his ‘hatsukoi’- in secret, of course. It was also true that the other boy seems to like him also; however Bou wasn’t sure if he was ready for those kinds of things. “I'm not going to call him up because of this… it’s troublesome, and I don’t want to drag Teruki in this”
They were quiet.
“I was serious when I said Teruki loves you”
“I was serious when I said I don’t want to trouble him” Bou added firmly, “He’s busy; he’s not like us… He’s one of them-”
“So…? That didn’t stop him from getting out of his limousine that time just to play with you…” Miku leaned forward making Bou lean back away, his face graced with a playful beam.
“But his parents got mad!”
“And I don’t think any of us cared about that fact”
“AHHHHHHHH!!!” Bou wailed, very loudly at that, running his hands through his hair in exasperation.
“Hey!!” Miku clasped a hand over the blond’s mouth, and then he whispered hastily “What the fuck was that about? Do you want the landlady to kick us out??”
“What the fuck is going on there!” a male voice from the left permeated through the walls, banging on the walls, “There are people who actually sleep!!”
Bou and Miku just gawked at the wall from where the voice came from. The feminine boy couldn’t say much, especially with Miku’s hand over his lips.
They both sighed.
“Man…” finally takes his hand off from the other’s face, Miku’s voice lowering down in volume, “Why did you have to go and scream like that???”
“Can you drop it between me and Teruki!?” the girly boy hissed, “He’s a rich boy, and he has a company to look after when he graduates from his school… Teruki won’t have time to play hooky with us like we used to…”
“But…”
“I'm clearing tonight if that will make you shut up” Bou said, standing up with a couple of half empty bowls already in his hands.
He didn’t have to look back to know that Miku was looking at him with those sad eyes again. The ones he gave him the other day in the shop. The ones he gives him everyday now that he finally took time to notice.
“Look, I have bigger problems to attend to…” the blond said, mentally cursing at how his life sucked so badly. Maybe transferring schools wasn’t that of a bad idea…
“OF COURSE NOT!” Miku shouted, making Bou jump- and at the same time how on earth did the other boy read his thoughts like that. “You’re going to fight that dense jerk Miyavi! And you’re going to teach him that he’s just an airhead!!”
“SHUT UP OVER THERE!”
Bou just hit Miku on the back of his head. “Baka”
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“Good evening, Young Master”
Miyavi grabbed the butler by the collar, “What the fuck did you just call me?”
“I'm sorry, sir! It won’t happen-”
“I told you to call me ‘Ore-sama’! ‘Ore-sama’!” the boy shouted, glaring at the poor man. The other whimpered and he smirked then let go. He walked forward, his head held up high and proud with a grin on his face.
“Those god damn assholes…” Miyavi fell with a small ‘flop’ on the couch, he settled himself cozily and flipped open his cell phone “Hey, Sugizo? Yeah, I'm going, why not? Oh, fuck off… You think you’re so big and all, well fucktard-”
“Watch your language, boy”
The boy fell from his comfortable position on the couch when he heard that voice. Muffled voices went unheard on his phone as it lay forgotten on the floor, he looked up and over at the door.
He wasn’t mistaken- the many attendants was a really bad giveaway, Miyavi thought to himself. There around five of them, all dressed in pin stripped business suits, and a look of seriousness etched on their features.
One of them, he was stationed at the left, carried a bag that was that boasted Italian craftsmanship. Another carried papers and what seemed to be like the day’s newspaper. The other two were just following attendants, there if just in case their service would be needed. And the last one, the one who seemed the oldest of them with the gray hairs that was brushed along with his few black, was holding what seemed to be a small BlackBerry.
All of them served only one important purpose: to follow each and every whim of Annabel Lee.
“… Oka-san…” the tall boy hissed under his breath.
Miyavi’s mother was quite the lady. Despite her Western-like name, she is full-blooded Japanese, it just so happens that her adoptive parent were both foreigners. She was strong and cold, but quite a sight to behold even at the old of forty-eight.
Miyavi rose from his spot and just glared at the woman.
“We shall be having dinner together, dear”
The old female passed by without glancing at her son, her many attendants following every of her footsteps. Their purpose for in going to that room was just to pass by it as to reach her office.
If Miyavi knew the old hag was coming home that day, he would have hid himself away in another corner of their grand mansion.
It wasn’t that he doesn’t like his mother.
He abhors her very existence.
The young boy watched all of them, leaving him behind in their vast living room.
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Their table was wide and big, a very big space that left absolutely little to no room for conversation. However, they weren’t very good in the skill of talking about simple daily life. His Oka-san- or old hag, as he would rather call her- sat at a far end of the table. The young boy sat at the opposite side.
Mrs. Lee made use of the knife and fork, as she cut in half the fine meat served. Miyavi stared at the prepared dish set in front of him.
“How was school, honey…?” the old woman asked, before taking a bite from her meal.
“Since when did you care…?” the young one jeered, he didn’t lower the volume of his voice. He’d rather let her hear his true thoughts about her than hide them away. “You’re always there in New York… why did you even bother coming back?” he snorted.
Miyavi’s mother, truth be told, was anything but that. She was a smart businesswoman and a very powerful one. She was the one, who built all the companies that fed their lavish lifestyle.
But she was nowhere near a mother, having spent too much of her time on stock market reports and such. Frankly, she doesn’t seem to mind at all.
“Souchirou” she put down her utensils, calling her right hand man. The old man carrying the BlackBerry stepped forward at her command, “Please call the chef”
He bowed down, “Yes madam”
Souchirou signaled for the two maids that were stationed at the door. Miyavi couldn’t help but feel an odd sense of dread; he watched as his mother gave him a very disturbing look of mock joy on her face.
“Good evening, madam” the head chef arrived; he took of his tall white hat and bowed down before the lady in deep respect.
Their gazes still connected, the madam announced, “You make horrible dishes, starting tomorrow, you are no longer a part of this household”
Miyavi was surprised- and to his annoyance- he let it show. That was totally uncalled for. However no one was as surprised as the chef himself, he didn’t move at first but when the truth finally sank in he tried to speak. But he was restrained by the lady’s right hand man.
The young boy looked at his mother with all the hate and loathing he could ever muster. But she mocked him with her false face of motherly love.
He lifted his fork and knife, and then started to eat.
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“Bitch. Bitch. Bitch.” Miyavi chanted heatedly.
“Hey, watch your mouth over there” Sugizo joked, sitting leisurely on one side of the pool table, “Or else we might wash your dirty little mouth with soap”
“Do you have a problem with I do, huh, Sugizo?” the boy demanded with a fist grabbing his friend’s lapels.
“Hey, you two” Yoshiko butted in, leaning forward as to aim his stick properly for the balls, “Don’t even start”
Sugizo just lifted his shoulders and gave his mate a little grin. Miyavi let go, very roughly of course.
Miyavi threw his stick and it hit the ground, breaking the end. His two companions looked at each other, Yoshiko mouthed ‘what happened’ to which Sugizo just rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. The former sighed; handling a very pissed Miyavi wasn’t a fun job.
He can be really childish.
“Hey, what’s got your panties tied in a bunch?” Sugizo gave him a pat in the head.
Being pissed as he was, he just swatted that hand off, “Don’t touch me asshole”
“Ooh, someone’s touchie today…”
“Hey, Sugizo, let’s just drop the whole thing okay…?” Yoshiki said, raising his hands in a truce, “It’s troublesome cleaning after your mess, you know…?”
“Oh sure…” Sugizo started off handedly, Miyavi just turned his head away in annoyance at his cheerful friend, “Let’s talk about something else then… like say, Meev-kun…”
“Sugizo…”
“I just noticed that we have a pretty little girl in our hands for the first time…” the boy just plopped him down beside the other, “Shouldn’t we be… you know, a bit nice? I mean after all… it is a girl-”
“I don’t care!” the boy with the many tattoos declared, “She’s has to go through what everyone went! Even if she is a girl!”
“But… Meev…” Yoshiki started, leaning on the pool table, “Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh? I mean, come on… Girls are fragile. You-”
“If I can’t take care of one little school… how am I going to take care of a big company? The real world’s a bitch, you have to be bitchier!”
“You do realize your logic is… how can I say this?” Sugizo pretended to think, “Fucked up?”
“So?” Miyavi started, “Once a fucktard gets a red card, the said fucktard is doomed unless he or she gets the hell out of my school”
“Heh, you’re school…?” Sugizo just shook his head, “This is rich…”
“Where’s Gackt? Didn’t you guys call him?”
69696969696
A wine glass lifted in the air, rounding the wine making it run circles inside while he waited.
The stars were pleasant tonight, two or three running away into the unknown.
He almost made a wish at the sight.
“Who’s this interesting person you mentioned?” dark curls tied neatly with two black ribbons. A beautiful face painted with hues that contradicted the extremely white skin and a baby doll dress that matched the color of the evening skies. The speaker’s hands were covered in lacy material, the same clothe that was used for the dress the person was wearing.
“Very noisy, I can tell you that” Gackt smiled, he took a sip from his glass.
“Someone other than Miyavi-kun…?” the other giggled, leaning on a hand while staring lazily at the drink the blond held in his hands. “This has to be a very interesting person indeed”
For a moment, the boy grinned and laughed something he doesn’t do anymore. “Yes, someone else… other than Miyavi…”
“Who’s that other person you’re always with now days…?”
“Ah… you’re talking about Takarai…?”
“Un”
“What about Takarai?” Gackt asked, it sounded soft but beneath the tone was the demand for an answer.
He stared at what the other stared, and it was the deep dark red of the wine he had been sipping on.
It was a hundred year old drink, a little gift his companion bought from France.
The other didn’t really show expression, but just shrugged shoulders, “He seems like a nice person, you know…”
They settled for a few moments.
A grin on Gackt’s face whiles a small almost unseen beam on the other’s lips. A table for two underneath a large canvass of twinkling dots with a violin somewhere in the back played by a professional to please and to give feeling to their surroundings.
“You really like this restaurant… don’t you?” the blond asked in an almost unheard whisper, looking for his reflection in his beverage. It wasn’t much of a question, more of a voiced observation, or rather a bitter sentiment coated with a different set of words.
The other sighed, “Regardless of feelings, Gackt-kun, I'm still leaving for France”
And Gackt looked up at the sky and waited for a falling star.
“I know”
But there was none.
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For most part of the morning
It was those old houses, the abandoned ones just outside big cities. It had aged and is dying bit by bit, and he really couldn’t find it in himself to wonder how the small light above him managed to flicker on.
One
Two
Three… if his head wasn’t hazy, he could almost count the number of cans on the floor, those little that were left crushed by his hands. But the circles in his brain were spinning quite too fast in the opposite direction.
He found himself in those sad little rooms, the ones with the yellow lights that wasn’t enough. The walls were cracked, especially on this one side, he wonders if the coming and going of rains killed it.
He grabbed his head, he could almost hear his voice again.
“You know how I can’t stay here anymore!”
“My brother! My brother always comes home with these horrid scars, and I just can’t stand seeing him hurt that way anymore…”
Yeah, he saw him, that once perky little boy, his innocence mutilated and now… The wounds on his body were scary.
He held his brother close to his chest, whilst the younger one just cried on his shoulder. The boy looked up at him, “Can’t you see? Japan is a terrible place; I knew it all along… I should’ve just stayed in New York with Oka-san!”
At that time, he wanted to open his mouth, tell him there were other good schools in Japan. They didn’t have to go back.
“Fuck those other schools, look at my brother! He looks like what World War II spat out! This is the most prestigious school in Japan, you said so yourself! If this is what students have to face through, then I don’t even want to know what will happen if he goes to other schools!”
“But you don’t have to go…” his head really hurts a lot.
“Why do you care anyway? I'm not even part of your life anymore, you just came barging in while I was packing, demanding me to stay… why? What am I to you exactly anyway?”
“You’re…”
They stood for a moment, the rain too loud and everything running away to places that doesn’t exist.
“I… I…” he started; they have to come out now.
“Yes?”
“I…”
“I have to go” he turned around and left, the door shut behind him. The whole world crumbled after that for the one left behind.
“I'm going to fucking kill that Miyavi…” he hissed to the stagnant air.
Chapitre Un