The Beast And The Fairy -- 09. Victims of Love
Title: The Beast And The Fairy -- Chapter 09. Victims of Love
Authors:
sphinxofthenile and
_ice_lady_
Fandom: Buck-Tick, Der Zibet
Pairing: Atsushi/Issay... eventually.
Rating: NC17 altogether, though we're far away from porn.
Disclaimer: Do not own. Make no money. Mean no harm.
Summary: "I cannot give you the formula for success, but I can give you the formula for failure, which is: Try to please everybody." ~ Herbert Bayard Swope
Warning: A decade of UST. Adult topics like marriage, cheating, prostitution, coming out, mental disorders, drinking problems, abuse, parental issues and death.
A/N: Credits can be seen, in their entirety, here. Thanks to
chibipinkbunny for being an amazing beta!
When we hold each other, my heart wavers
When we comfort each other, it doesn’t last
I’ve gotten lost and stuck at this place in time
My desire colors the ocean red
Victims of Love*, Sakurai Atsushi
---
Sapporo, December 1990
December in Hokkaido meant snow. Lots of snow and very cold weather. Which, in turn, meant that Atsushi wasn’t allowed to get out even if someone were to force him with a gun to his head. He just couldn’t risk a cold in the middle of their crowning tour of the year. Or so Imai made sure to inform Atsushi in a fifteen minute monologue last week.
So Atsushi was stuck in the hotel. At first, he locked himself inside his room, calling his girlfriend a few hours earlier just to keep his mind off... things. Then she started to annoy him too. Not her fault, poor thing, for obviously not being able to keep up with Atsushi’s edginess. So he left her in his room and went down to the bar to get himself something to drink.
The place was swarming with people, mostly tourists. Some Japanese, from other parts of the country, most likely deciding to make sure their Christmas was white, and quite a large number of foreigners, who spoke words Atsushi couldn’t understand. Normally, that would have made him even more nervous because people had that effect on him. As of late it had gotten worse, he was becoming a more recognizable face, attracting random strangers wherever he went. But for one reason or the other, he actually felt ridiculously calm, sitting in his little corner of the overheated bar, observing the faces of people casually chatting with one another, smiling and being merry, as was the spirit of the season, or some shit like that.
Maybe the fact that he asked for some rum to be put in his tea had a lot to do with his mood, though. It shouldn’t, as it wasn’t much. Just enough to keep him warm; he still had qualms about drinking alone, even if this was a bar full of people surrounding him. And besides, the concert was tomorrow, so he couldn’t get drunk anyway. Ah, such was the toil of singers, so it seemed.
Yes, the rum was definitely warming up his bloodstream. Which was nice, for a start. On second thought though, there he was, sitting alone in a corner, drinking and watching others, feeling the closest he had ever gotten to envy. And that was just not right.
There he was, a comet in the sky of Japanese rock, popular, admired and if the media could be trusted, acclaimed too; all before twenty-five and running wild with great plans for the future. He had friends, even if only a handful of them were close. And he didn’t really need more anyway, considering how much time work took up from his life. There was simply not all that much space to be filled in the first place. And those few who were, he would walk through fire for, wasn’t that a good thing?
And then of course, there was work. And as it was, Atsushi did rant a lot about work, especially if there was someone listening who actually understood what it meant to be constantly dragged around, have chaotic schedules that always changed in the last moment, the responsibility towards the fans, and the physically demanding nature of performing for hours and still leaving the stage with a smile. But as much as he ranted, when it came to the last analysis, he wouldn’t have traded with anyone for all the treasures in the world.
This was what he had always wanted to do, what he loved the most. Like he once could not imagine what a life on stage entailed, he could not imagine a life without it now.
Then why, just why, wasn’t he happy now?
Perhaps, the answer wasn’t all that complicated. Maybe he just didn’t feel it as strongly because it was still like a dream in a way. Like it could all crumble in the blink of an eye, burst like a soap bubble if he only breathed the wrong way. Then again, there were those other times, when Atsushi felt like he owned the world. Shouldn’t that have made him happy then?
He had everything. Money, fame, friends, a job he loved, a girl who loved him... He could have had so many other girls too, if he felt like it. Which just made the whole thing that much more ridiculous. He could have had all these things, and instead he spent his nights trying to shove a certain image out of his head. And the more times he asked his girlfriend to sleep over in his room, harder it got. A fight onto itself, not to pretend -- that the body under his was someone else, hips smaller, legs longer, just like on the picture... So sick, stupid, all of it.
He couldn’t believe how hard it had become, and worst of all, it showed. Hard to focus on political correctness when all he wanted was... well, that. Atsushi wasn’t sure at this point what that entailed, but it sure as hell wasn’t there before he’d seen Issay’s naked ass plastered all over the promotional posters.
At least the press was all over trying to figure out what the hell prompted Atsushi to write so much about pain and suffering on their last album. Oh, if they only knew. At least having a girlfriend got Imai off his back for good. Or at least for now.
So many things to be happy about, and yet, it was this bar, this tea with rum and these unfamiliar smiling faces around him that made him happy the most.
And the stage, of course, but he’d have to wait until tomorrow for that one. If only he could talk to someone, get the answers... But the only person who could have filled that position was the root of all Atsushi’s problems in the first place. And Atsushi had a feeling, if Issay only smelled half of what was going through his head, Atsushi would rather dig his own grave first. It was hard enough to look the man in the eye as it was. Especially because the last time they met, Atsushi’s mind was too occupied with trying to match that damn cover to reality.
It didn’t exactly help that the man had finally sent the lyrics he had written for their duet. On second thought, that was just what ticked off the whole thing, most likely. Not that Atsushi was happy with that realisation of all things. But truth was truth, and seeing those lines moved him in ways that he was not expecting them to.
Masquerade**, an image of smoke filled nights as the masks fell away, exposing the sadness of the clowns, and oh, Atsushi remembered, he remembered all too well. That one time, drunk as they were, in Issay’s car, covered in darkness, wine buzz and the scent of leather. That one time still stood out like a lighthouse from the row of their nights filled with long talks.
Did something change then? It was silly, thinking about such things. But those lines, beautiful, perfect from the first to the last kept on haunting him with their tender sorrow and gentle understanding. Was there another being in this world who understood him the way Issay did?
Rum tea it was.
---
Tokyo, February 1991
Atsushi could swear, if it weren’t for Imai’s presence in the room, which was beginning to annoy him more and more at this point, the whole thing would have been just perfect. Of course, trust Imai to be the one to spoil all the fun things in Atsushi’s life. Maybe not all the time. Just nine times out of ten.
And if Atsushi wanted to be honest, he was still of the opinion that Imai was here for the sole reason to keep an eye on him. He also had a feeling that if weren’t it for the fact that Atsushi was now obviously taken, Imai would have tried his best to make sure this collaboration never happened. In a way, Atsushi could see why. With his latest little stunt of an album cover, Issay indeed managed to stir up the scene, and was lucky to have gotten away with it for the most part.
Still, in Imai’s opinion, doing a duet with the man was bad business. Then again, Atsushi suspected that if Yutaka’s little slip before could be believed, Imai might have had other reasons too. Reasons that, sadly, Atsushi could not claim were completely unfounded anymore. But damned if he cared at the moment. He was seated in a rather comfortable chair, sipping a cup of nice tea and watching through the soundproof glass panel as Issay sang, which in Atsushi’s books was several levels of perfection. Soon enough, it would be his turn, but until then, he could allow himself to just enjoy this rare experience.
It was some sight indeed to see the man at work, eyes closed now and then as he lost himself to the song, so much experience and confidence evident in the way he did his recording, Atsushi couldn’t help but be impressed. At the way he hit the notes so perfectly and seemingly without any effort, held them without a trace of trembling, only the concentration on his face and the slight sheen of sweat appearing on his skin hinting at the hard work he was immersed in so--
“If you don’t close your mouth, something will fly into it,” Imai said in an almost bored, matter-of-fact tone, which in this case probably translated as not amused. Atsushi shot him a venomous glare, but decided to be the bigger man and not grace that one with an answer.
It was obvious from the beginning that Imai decided that the whole collaboration was a pain in his royal ass and was determined to behave accordingly. Which just made it all the more amusing when they finally met Issay, and Atsushi could witness that perfect charm working its magic on the ever so stoic Imai. By the time Issay excused himself to record his part of the duet, Imai was on a long ramble about Kafka and his symbolism, and Atsushi had to do everything in his willpower not to burst into a fit of giggles.
Hats off to Issay, obviously, perfect host he was and everything. And damn if Atsushi was going to waste another thought on Imai when he could just sit back and appreciate the aesthetic elegance Issay was the very embodiment of.
“Seriously, Atsushi, don’t you think--”
If only Imai would let him, of course. With a sigh, Atsushi slowly craned his head to look at the man. “Please, Imai, can we not start that again?”
“But--”
“Look, Imai. You agreed, I agreed, it would be highly insulting if we called it off now. So yes, we are doing this, and I would very much appreciate if we could close this topic now.”
Imai just rolled his eyes with a laborious sigh. Was that supposed to make Atsushi feel bad now? Well, tough luck. Even more so because in the meantime the song finished, and Issay was stepping out with a little smile, and at that point Imai could have been a dancing cactus in a Mexican hat for all Atsushi cared.
“Sorry for making you wait. I hope you weren’t too bored.” Issay approached, wiping his face with a towel one of the staff members handed to him, slinging it casually around his neck. My, but was it becoming hard to swallow all of a sudden.
“Of course not. Seeing the genius at work, who could be bored?” Atsushi joked, and the laugh Issay produced was even better than music.
“Ah, you flatter me so. But it definitely will need re-recording.”
“What is praise if not honest flattery?” Imai offered, practically startling Atsushi with his sudden butting into the conversation.
“True that!” Issay chuckled. “I was thinking we could go for a late dinner after we are done. My treat, of course.”
“After everything, it really should be me inviting you,” Atsushi objected, but Issay waved him off with a laugh.
“You are my guests, in case you have forgotten. It is the least I can do to thank you for the favour, I know how busy you are these days.”
“Thank you, dinner sounds lovely,” Imai decided the question, and Atsushi had a feeling the man was doing this on purpose. To annoy him, probably, but like Atsushi was going to give him that pleasure.
“I’ll just have to take a quick shower before we leave, if that’s not a problem,” Issay added apologetically, and Imai was quick to announce they would wait. What the hell was the man playing at this time? This just couldn’t be good.
“Maybe you should call Sayuri while we wait?” Imai offered with a very polite, almost apologetic tone, while Atsushi hoped he was shooting enough daggers at the man. The hell? Why did Imai have the need to invite Atsushi's girlfriend to something akin to a business dinner? Well, at least Atsushi could keep on telling himself that.
Then he realised that Issay was still there, and Atsushi decided to calm himself down. No need to kill their resident music genius over this.
“You know how she always wanted to meet the man you talk so much about.”
Yet.
“I don’t think--” Atsushi squeezed through his teeth, but then Issay chuckled, the polite peacemaker that he was.
“Oh, by all means,” he said, and why was Atsushi tempted to actually apologise to the man? What the hell was wrong with Imai anyway? “I wouldn’t mind meeting the girl I’ve heard so much about either.” Not that Atsushi ever talked about her, of course. Gods, he hoped the ground would swallow him. “Or, indeed, that shower. Now.” And with that, Issay was gone.
Yeah, well, not that Atsushi would have minded a shower himself, but with that in there... Not happening. Better go and deal with his part while Imai was still alive.
---
Issay was disappointed. Granted, he’d never say that aloud, and he would surely hate himself in the morning, but right now, looking at the girl, he was disappointed. He had no idea why he didn't even offer to invite her too, aside from a case of mild curiosity and a considerable portion of masochism. And that it was the polite thing to do, of course. Way to ruin an evening out that he had been so looking forward to.
He had been hoping to talk to Atsushi about so many things, some bigger, some smaller, some plain nonsensical, because Atsushi would even listen to his pointless rambles with a smile. Or at least they could have talked business with Imai there. Issay still needed to settle the issue of live performances because organising the tour was going into full swing soon enough. And he really wouldn’t have minded performing with Atsushi. Somewhere other than Naomi’s living room, that was. But of course, given the current company, such things were out of the equation too. Because it just would have been impolite, and Issay would bite his tongue off sooner.
He had no idea what he was expecting but it surely wasn’t this. Which was quite sad, considering how determined Issay was to like this girl. But there she was, frail, timid and insignificant, and he found that determination could help many a thing, but not in this case, it didn’t. How on earth did... that manage to catch Atsushi’s eye?
Not that she wasn’t pretty, in a plain, almost neutral way, long hair and uncertain eyes. But it proved to be an art onto itself to pull a single word out of her, and even then she was just so... shy. Unoriginal. Boring. What was it with her, really?
If Issay could imagine anyone by Atsushi’s side (who didn’t share Issay’s name, surname and address, of course), it would have been someone with flair, temperament, and wit. Someone who would be just as charming as the man was, lively and lovable. But your typical housebroken housewife? How? How did that happen? Or was that really as far as the rebellious spirit in Atsushi went?
Preach water and drink wine, wasn’t that how it went?
Issay was disappointed. “I know it’s a bit too early,” he started, eyes flying towards Imai, because it was a safer option. There was simply something in Atsushi that rubbed Issay in all the wrong ways right now. Maybe the man was simply uncomfortable, because he tended to be when it came to personal matters (and showing off his girlfriend obviously belonged to personal matters, any way you looked at it), or maybe he was tired, but whatever the reason, Issay did not feel like seeking eye contact. “But we’ve already booked all the venues for the tour, and I was thinking... December...”
“Will have to crosscheck with the management, but I see no reason why not,” Imai offered with a smile, a bit too hopeful in Issay’s humble opinion. Then again, Der Zibet obviously meant more than an empty name to that man too. Issay just sometimes forgot how old they were, he thought with an inward sneer. Getting too old, perhaps? What a way to ruin such a pleasurable evening...
Issay made a mental note not to order any more wine for himself.
“We’re booked solid until summer anyway,” Imai obviously decided it was safe to chitchat, and Issay was too polite to tell the man to just suck it. He was not in the mood. Instead, he smiled and nodded, trying to look as though he fondly remembered years like those.
Hard to focus on Imai once Atsushi started talking with Sayuri. Must have been something funny and charming as only he knew sometimes, if the girl’s giggles were anything to go by. Well, at least someone was having their fun. Shame, Issay never considered himself a jealous type, but then again, this wasn’t exactly the type of jealousy he didn’t believe in.
And then the man was turning towards Issay, and damn, there was that smile and it had no right to hurt. Or make Issay feel like a child caught doing something indecent. “Which reminds me, as the tour starts soon,” Atsushi started, just the faintest tint of that shyness Issay was perpetually so amused with. “I was thinking we could hit the opera again before that.”
In any other case, something like that would have made Issay the happiest person. This, however, was not any other situation. No, it was rather something that Issay knew should finally bring him to his senses because he was getting too deep and yet, when the final call was made, he would be the one left alone.
No, it was better to pull out now before everything went to hell. Still, it was hard, harder than it had any right to be, and Issay cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he forced a smile. Thank god for the theater. Sometimes, it really did come in handy. “I would love to, but I’m afraid I have no choice but to decline. Slaves to the masses, you know how it goes.”
---
“I had fun, thank you,” Sayuri said once they were back in Atsushi’s place. He wanted to drop her off at home, but it was too late, he had work to do tomorrow, and he didn’t think for one second about the mechanics of them sharing the bed.
“You were bored, admit it,” Atsushi teased, and noticed a small blush creep to her cheeks, which she dealt with by hiding in the kitchen and starting the kettle without question. Sometimes, Atsushi still had to remind himself that she had every right to feel comfortable in his flat. Besides, her cooking was good, and she always helped him clean around, so at least it meant less work for Atsushi, who generally didn’t have enough time for house chores anyway.
She came out of the kitchen a few minutes later, holding two cups of tea, and Atsushi smiled at her as she seated herself onto the sofa next to him. He was tired, and he knew he should have just gone to bed, but that once again brought up the whole laws of ordinary physics question. It was better to just sit there for now. Stupid, considering everything that happened between them, but being at his place instead of a hotel room made all the difference, so it seemed.
“Your friend seems like a nice person,” she said, trying to spark up a conversation, and Atsushi just felt like cringing. He didn’t want to talk about Issay, and he definitely didn’t want her to talk about him. It just seemed wrong.
“I’m sorry for talking work.” Giving it a second thought, he definitely didn’t want to talk, period. If anything, just pretend that stupid dinner never happened. What was Imai thinking, really.
“I don’t mind. It’s interesting.” If only those words wouldn’t have reminded him so much about his own earlier in the studio. Suddenly, it was just too much. Not even the tea could help that, and he put the cup down and slid closer to her. Sleep could wait a little longer.
“All yours now,” he said with a smile, easing the cup away from those fingers and onto the table. It was still awkward. Atsushi could pick up any random girl from the street, because they didn’t mean anything, but Sayuri was different. She was... nice, and she always looked at him with those eyes that made Atsushi feel so guilty for the thoughts he’d sometimes have.
He was tired, true, but he wasn’t about to refuse sex. That was what men did, right? Not that Atsushi could claim he understood all the boasting and gushing people did about it. It was nice and worked as a wonderful distraction most of the times, but after everything was said and done, it was just a fleeting pleasure that left him feeling empty and alone. Sure, snuggles were kind of nice, one had to hand it to the act, but then again, so was sleep.
Just why was this so hard? Well, life just really didn’t work the way it was written in the books, Atsushi guessed. Which was a shame, but then again, he was too old to believe in fairy tales anymore. “Bedroom?” he asked, smiling despite himself as her cheeks blushed some more, nodding. Even after all this time she would still do that. It was kind of cute, really.
Then again, Sayuri was that cute. Cute and adorable and gentle and frail and, sometimes, Atsushi just loved her for it. Sometimes, he hated her, but either way, she was there, and she didn’t exactly not make him happy.
And she made good tea.
---
* While, yes, we are aware of the fact that Victims of Love is from Seventh Heaven, an album released in 1988, it is one of the rare exceptions where we used an older song, instead of referencing the creation of a future one. The reason is simple -- if you go to the notes at the end of the song on the NOT greatest site, you can read this what Atsushi himself said about the song: “It’s kind of empty, even though it’s fun of course, but afterward, or when you remember it, it seems so futile. That feeling of nothing after you’ve finished up is what I wanted to express in ‘Victims of Love.’ Of course, I wanted to express the feelings of sex itself, but also the feeling after it’s done… I really wanted to, um, let that out, I could say.” We thought it was too important not to reference.
**The translation of Masquerade can be read here.
This entry was originally posted at http://sphinxofthenile.dreamwidth.org/134927.html.