Forever
Title: Forever
Author: yukigafuru
Pairing: GacktxYou
Rating: PG-15
Warnings: manxman love
Discalimer: if I owned them, would I be writing this and not in their bed? I think not.
Summary: Even what seems as a perfect relationship can be so easily destroyed, if there is not enough communication, if doubts appeared. Can it fix itself?
Author comment: wanted to write another GacktxYou for a time but got too caught up in other projects. After going to the anniversary life, this is what came up. Partly inspired by the live, most of it inspired by my dirty imagination.
Forever
I wonder for how long he'll allow me to remain by his side, just how many days, weeks, months, maybe even years? It seems like ages have passed since the first day I joined him in his bed and at the same time, it feels as if not even a day has passed at all. How did I allow myself to fall in love with him? How did it come to this? I know that for now, I'm the one in his bed but that could change in a moment, in a fraction of a second, couldn't it? I wish I could trust him when he tells me he loves me, when he holds me, when he keeps coming back to me... But couldn't he be doing the same with dozens others? I only know he's not because he doesn't have the time for that, but that could change.
I always thought him extraordinary, in all possible senses of the word: his voice, his eyes, the way he moved his body, his posture, everything about him screamed different, whereas I, well, I was the average school boy, nothing fantastic there except only the fact that the platinum blonde actually suited me more than my natural black. I was the solitary one, he was Mr. popularity; the average teenager love story. Only I didn't hate him and he didn't have this unusual hidden passion for me. What got us together (not in the sense you imagine) was music. It became our bond, our common reason for living, our own wonder. But even here, we were different: he wanted to conquer the world, I was more than happy to just enjoy it.
Because of that, he left. In search of his dream, a dream that did not include me. It surprised me that he hadn't forgotten even my name when I got that phone call years later. I had done almost nothing for myself, which was again predictable, he had become a small shining star, he wanted to climb higher. I was flattered that he wanted me. After all, what did I have to lose? Absolutely nothing.
The love story still didn't begin. No, it took a couple of years of getting to know each other again. I was virtually unchanged, he had become someone I hardly knew anymore. There had been some sort of boyishness in him before, some sort of innocence, that had now disappeared completely. He was determined, fierce, attractive, stubborn, intelligent, but he just wasn't shining anymore, at least not in my eyes, not in the way he shined before. Whereas I had been and will always be a ruby, at most, he had been a rough diamond and the years had polished many of the edges. The person before me had more of the hardness and invulnerability of a diamond than I could ever think humanly possible.
That helped him overcome diseases, lack of sleep, a never-ending training schedule, living among foreigners, assembling some sort of a new band, only this time it wasn't a band, we were his support, nothing more, nothing less, completely replaceable.
So how did it all start? Beats me if I know. I just found myself one day completely in love with him, with this new entity I had been standing next to. I guess almost everyone goes through that, in some degree, they think him strange, otherworldly at first (the other-worldly part never quite disappears) but before they know it, they're caught in his charm. It's so like him. I was never a singular case in anything I did. Why would I be in this? I had fallen in love with the one man that would want nothing to do with me.
I suppose it would have hurt more if it hadn't been so damn clear from the first. I just accepted it, I guess. What was there left to do? I wouldn't have left him and the music anyway, so what was the point in making myself suffer. If there's one thing I pride myself with, well, that's being quite level-headed about things.
Months passed. They say that time heals everything. Let me tell you that it's bullshit. Time heals nothing in itself, you heal if you want to heal, if you're meant to heal, if you can heal. I didn't even want to. Not because I held any expectations, just because loving him was as much a part of me as playing the guitar or the violin. I never expected him to come to me.
I know it sounds stupid, but I love the feel of the rain, during the stormy season. It all has to do with my so-called rationality. Tsuyu is damned hot, the only thing that makes it temporarily bearable is a soak. And the rain seems to cleanse everything, even one's soul.
We lived in the same huge house. He has always had a thing for huge houses. And he doesn't really like living alone; we were also still at the beginning of everything, so one huge house suited us just fine. A huge house with a moderately big garden. Just because the houses are huge doesn't mean the gardens have to correspond... I was practicing a few chords in my room when I heard the sudden rap of the rain on my window. Like most summer storms, it comes suddenly, few drops at first and then, depending on god knows what, keeps it up like that, more of a drizzle than a real rain, stops soon, or grows into a downpour. You never know which one it is. (never been one to trust the weather man)
At first, I just stood there, listening to the gentle rapping for a few moments and then, the sudden need to get out enveloped me. What was I doing inside when I could be out there? I left my guitar and in my room wear I just went out, allowed myself to get soaked. The drizzle became a downpour.
Have you ever taken the time to actually get hit by a summer storm? Let the wind and the rain chill you to the bones? You should, someday. It's exhilarating. You feel alive, like every single drop of blood in your body is boiling, screaming for freedom. That was such a day and such a rain for me.
I just stood there for what seemed hours (I later found out it had been just a few minutes), until suddenly I was no longer being hit by the violent slaps of rain. But the rain hadn't stopped, I could still hear it and feel it around me. Opening my eyes, taking in my surroundings, it hit me in the face, his body and umbrella shielding me from the rain. Not long after that, I was being practically hauled into the house, undressed, redressed in warm clothes and lowered into the chair in front of the fire. Did he imagine we were in England or something? He must have thought it strange that I hadn't spoken one word. Because he was the one breaking the silence.
“Are you okay?” Surely a nod would do, right? So I just nodded. His brows raised some more.
“Then why were you out there in that rain? And why are you not talking?”
Guess I couldn't get away with silence more than I already had. I just didn't feel a lot like talking. And I liked hearing his voice, how quaint of me.
“You know I love the rain.”
“That was a damn storm, You! And why weren't you talking? It's not even just about today either. We don't really talk anymore, not like we used to. I never got around to gather my wits and ask you about it.”
“I just didn't feel like chatting much. And people change. We're not the same boys we were anymore. You've changed.”
“Damn it! When are you going to start telling the truth?” He seemed angry. I had no idea why. Surely it couldn't affect him that much, could it? I mean, why would he bother with me anyway?
“There's nothing to tell. And why are you so bothered about this anyway?”
For a few moments, there was plain hurt on his face and it left me speechless again. It wasn't anger or annoyance, it was plain hurt, and it left me more confused than I had ever been in my life.
“You do know I care about you, right?”
Now that was a sensitive subject.
“You were the one that left.”
He seemed genuinely sorrowful and regretful.
“I know. And I can't say I'm sorry. Not for following what got me closer to my dream. But I always meant coming back for you. I was never leaving you behind.”
“It's in the past, anyway. It doesn't matter anymore.”
I tried to get up and leave but he wouldn't have it. He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me back down in the chair again, leaning over me.
“It does, to me. I want us back. I need you in my life like that again. And I'll do whatever it takes to get you.”
Always the confident one. Couldn't blame him either. He really did almost always get what he wanted.
My love for him, did he know it then? I don't think so. I could of course be wrong. Whichever the case, a couple of days later, after rehearsal, when we were the only two left in the rehearsal room (have no idea where everyone had gone), I found myself pinned against the mirrored wall and kissed senselessly by the man I was in love with. That's how it all started. Did he do it because he wanted that thing, whatever it had been between us, back? Did he do it because he realized he loved me? I don't think it's the latter. I never held that illusion.
Afterwards, my mind supplied me with two truths. I would never be free of my love for him and now I knew why he was so proud of his bed skills. I would always love him because he filled me like no one else ever had. It may sound as stupid romanticism but in those moments, I felt like he knew my body better than his own, he handled me like he would handle his precious piano, he made me feel heaven. Bottom line, I was head over heals with my love for him. But that day he never said I love you. At the moment my mind had been too clouded by pleasure to actually understand that but days of remembering and dreaming with my eyes wide open revealed the truth to me.
He said it a few days later, and he has kept saying it ever since, but I just wish he would have said it that one time I completely gave myself to him.
I never expected him to come back though. Our relationship was the same for a few days (if you count a head-in-the -clouds me as being the same) until again he decided to invade me once more. This time more words were exchanged though. Should I count this as the beginning of our relationship?
“You, come here?” Why does it always happen that the room suddenly becomes vacant whenever he does that?
I obeyed.
“I must admit I thought things would go different. I thought you'd fall in love with me, if you weren't already in love, and be by my side, be my companion from then on. It's been days and you haven't changed. Well, you are a bit more thoughtful and retreated, if that's even possible. What do I need to do to make you fall in love with me, You?”
His arms were around my waist and he was pressing his cheek against my shirt, so he must have heard the sound of my heart beating madly in my chest. Was he still playing as if he didn't know it already? I was never a good actor, not like him.
“I do love you, Gackt.”
I think the statement took him a bit by surprise because he was up from that couch in moments, looking at me as if he wanted to see the depths of my soul.
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
I've always loved his smile. He could probably defuse a terrorist gathering with just that smile. He got me with that again that time. He was smiling as if I had just returned him his most prized possession. Seconds later he was kissing me, leaving me breathless again, taking me, whispering 'I love you'. I was happy.
So what went wrong? I don't even know it myself, I can only guess. I don't think it's his fault. It's probably mine. He kept saying 'I love you', he kept coming back, he declared his love for me on stage (well, not exactly in this terms but still), he was my friend and my lover, my confidant and my nemesis in one. I loved him to the point I'd do anything for him. No matter how stupid it sounds, even in my ears, I would have given my life for him.
Who am I fooling? I still love him to madness. But I'm afraid he has never loved me. The pain just kept growing. It started with him and those damned interviews, him saying how much he loves this and that type of woman. Call it jealousy, call it common sense. I never loved those statements. But as long as he came home, back to me, kept whispering his declarations to me, I'd be content. And then, there were the commercials of him embracing beautiful women, him becoming friends with said beautiful women. Him becoming close with many beautiful men and women. The jealousy thing just grew. His time out of the house and out of my bed also grew. I knew he was doing it for his dream but that didn't make the pain any less.
It didn't help that we were growing old, while he, he barely changed at all. He was still as beautiful, perhaps even more so, than all those years back. His personality even changed for the best, he became more loving, warmer, funnier, lost some sort of edge. I hated that he'd show that side of him to anyone else at first, too. I caught myself being idiotic in time, and came to accept it quite easily.
The movie with Hyde, I could still live with that, although he was away for what seemed like ages. But I knew Hyde, the man was straight and in love. He had come into our house, he knew about us, he was a good friend. I trusted him and I was right to trust him. I didn't like other people on the crew but that's another story. The movie came and went. It brought a slight increase in the pain, perhaps because of the solitude, but that was it.
But then, he tried forming this new band with Miyavi and the rest. Do I need to spell it out what I think about Miyavi? I'm not blind, I know the man is like a flame, beautiful and dangerous at the same time. Whereas I'm like ice, I can only be beautiful to those who can accept the cold, but I'm never dangerous. He and Miyavi, you should see them together. There's years separating them and still they get along as if... I don't even want to go there. I started feeling true jealousy for the first time. And this time, it wasn't just because of Miyavi, but also because he had started working away from us, he had started to be out rather than in, our relationship, I thought it started growing cold. Perhaps it was a premonition, perhaps I knew it was the beginning. One day, he'd leave, he'd leave us all behind.
The movies came after that, together with needing to accept the fact that I wouldn't see him for months, that I'd only hear for him once in a week for a few moments, that I couldn't believe in his words anymore. Even when filming the drama, he was home and yet he wasn't.
It became so hard and so painful there were times I couldn't breathe anymore. I kept hoping that he'd come back though. He always did. I thought that I was irreplaceable to him, his home, me and the band would be the constant in his turbulent life. I was always a constant, but maybe he doesn't need that after all.
I realized that tonight, while he was there on stage, celebrating his birthday and at the same time, the ten years anniversary of his solo career. I knew that tonight would be the beginning of the end for us, felt it in my bones, from the moment he started talking about Fukuyama and making new friends. The videos of all those people telling him they loved him just made me want to smash something. But then, when he was presenting the band, I suddenly felt cold and dead. After years of being together with Ju-ken, the new bassist just took his place as if he had been there all along, the fans were as warm to him as with Ju-ken and Gackt certainly presented him in the warmest tones. It made me realize that none of us were constants. We were easily replaceable. We were his back-up but never his partners, we were the Gackt job after all, there for him and because of him, nothing more. Including me.
Sure, knowing me, I'd be there for him till the end, I'd be by his side even when he didn't need me anymore. But if he stopped needing me, than that just meant he didn't love me. For now, the music kept us together, but even that would have an end and then, what comes then?
In the changing room, after we went out there again, I couldn't help from succumbing to all the pain that had gathered over long, long years.
“You, are you alright?”
I should have been the one asking him that, since he was obviously the more tired but I was just wallowing in self pity and pain.
“Yeah.”
“You don't look like it. Tell me. What's wrong?”
He shouldn't have insisted, I shouldn't have let it go.
“I was just wondering for how long this farce will last. For how long you'll think I have some uses at your side, for how long you'll keep lying that you love me.”
It didn't need a genius to see that he was surprised and hurt and I felt sorry for saying it the moment it left my mouth. I had practically accelerated everything when all I wanted was to hold on for a little longer.
The alarm sounded and we had to get on stage. A happy event that was...
The live seemed to go on and end in a fog for me. I didn't know if I was playing or drowning. It could have been either. At the end, I just couldn't be there anymore. I didn't even change before I got into a cab and drove home.
…................................................
“Gackt, we need to talk.”
“Oh, it's you, Chacha. Sorry, I don't feel like talking right now.”
“I know you're mad and hurt.”
“I'm not hurt. I'm just mad as hell. I need to stop myself before I go in there and whack some sense into him.”
“He left.”
All Gackt's pretenses just faded away as he heard those two words. He had been trying to control his pain with anger and make himself think that You had suddenly been hit in the head by something and would turn back to normal if one hit him again, or something like that.
“What?”
“As soon as the performance was over, he got into a cab and left.”
Gackt just let himself fall on the couch. All of his tiredness came back then and there, along with his emotions, practically crushing him. What was the point of living like this again?
“Gackt, do you know why he left?”
“I have no idea. He thinks I don't love him. He thinks I'll leave him or something. How can he even...”
“That's why I said we need to talk. You never saw it, although it was plain as day.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He's been hurting, for a long time. You've been hurting him.”
“I neve...”
“Will you just listen to me? I watched him for years, Gackt, you asked me to, to take care of him when you weren't there. Do you know how much he suffered when you weren't there? Do you know how it pained him to hear you say over and over again what kind of woman you like and all that crap? You getting closer and closer to other people and what it looked like farther and farther away from him? I confess I barely realized all this partly myself. He's too good at hiding his feelings. But tonight, I happened to see his face when you talked about Fukuyama. He had tears in his eyes, Gackt, and You almost never cries. He seemed dead when he heard all those comments and robotic through the rest of the night. I think something snapped today and if you don't get to him soon and say the right things...”
“I just don't understand it, ChaCha. How can he think I don't love him? Why has he been hurting?”
“God, Gackt! Have you ever talked about your feelings with him? About your situation? Or did you just assume he'd understand? I know you've told him you loved him, but other than that? For Christ's sake, Gackt, I can tell you I love you and it would be true. I love you as a brother, as family. Those three words are just not enough! I can't believe you never realized this.”
“I've been a blind fool, haven't I?”
“Yes! Now go get him!”
…...............................................................
I've started packing but I can't get my hands to stop from shaking. So I just decided to wait for him on our bed. No, his bed. I have to make myself stop using this 'our' thing. Whatever it is we had, it's gone now. And I was the genius that put an end to it. Maybe it's been minutes, maybe it's been hours, I've done nothing but wait.
At last, I hear his steps in the corridor. He'll be here soon now. I can't stop from shaking.
“You! Good, you're here.”
I definitely never expected him to launch himself at me and embrace me tight.
“You idiot! I don't know what's been going on in that head of yours but we need to talk and set it straight. I'm getting too old to be running after you like this.”
“Gackt... I'm sorry. I just...”
“Be honest with me.”
He looks me straight in the eye and I know I can be nothing but honest.
“Do you believe what you said? Do you really think I don't love you?”
“Gackt, I... I don't know. There are times when you make me feel like I'm everything for you and then there are times, and they've gotten more frequent than ever, when I just know that it's all going to end, become just a memory.”
“You, look at me.”
I do. He seems so tired, he's barely keeping himself up. I shouldn't be doing this to him, not now, not on his birthday, not after that extremely long live, not after he's been busier than ever.
“You're tired. We can talk tomorrow.”
“No. I want to spend this special night with my lover, with my soul mate. And I can't do that if I don't teach some sense into him. Just listen, and believe me. I've never, in my entire life, said anything truer than when I say 'I love you' to you. I've loved you since high school, since the moment I saw you for the first time, playing the violin under the full-bloom sakura tree. I fell madly in love with you and tried desperately to make you like me back. I never gave up on my dream, I've done many of the things I've done in my life partly for you. I won't deny my own ambition, but part of that is so that I could make myself someone you'd fall in love with, someone you'd be proud to love. The first time I held you, it felt as if... I can' even put it in words. You were my everything, You, and I was making love to you. I couldn't speak, I couldn't think, I couldn't do anything but love you. And afterwards, I was so afraid that I had made a mistake, driven you away from me. You never once said 'I love you' then. I was frightened. But nothing seemed to change between us after that and I couldn't stand it anymore. The first time you said 'I love you' it... I don't have words to describe how happy it made me feel. You, I've loved you for more than 15 years. Do you honestly think I can ever stop loving you?”
I didn't care that tears were flowing down my cheeks. I didn't care that I was making a fool of myself in front of him. I was looking into his eyes and everything he said was true. I knew him well enough to know that he was not lying to me. But then...
“Then why that band with Miyavi, why leave me behind so long, why the lack of phone calls, why can you so easily accept someone new in our band, why talk about giving up in front of your fans, why Gackt?” And then, I added in a smaller voice. “And why can you keep loving me when there are so many others, so many beautiful and talented people, you could choose from?”
“God, I'm in love with an idiot!” He was joking, but it didn't make me laugh. He realized that and looked me straight in the eyes again, baring his soul to me. A person who bowed to no one, was entrusting himself to me. “I just wanted to try a different type of music. Do you want to know why it didn't work out? Because you weren't by my side, that's why! I didn't call because calling would almost make me jump into that plane and come back to you. I can easily accept someone else in the band because the friends that were there before didn't disappear from my life, they just chose a different road. They're still there. And because they're not you or ChaCha. You are my lover, the person I need to have by my side. He, although I don't think you could be jealous of ChaCha, he's been the father/mother figure in my everyday life. You two grounded me, kept me real, in a world where that can so easily slip from you. And then, there's this problem with your jealousy. What could possibly make me look at other people, when I have the most beautiful being in the world by my side? Funny you would think of yourself as replaceable when to me, you're my irreplaceable flower. You, every lyric I've wrote is for you, every minute I sing, I sing my love for you.”
Funny how those words could wash away years of doubt and pain, simply because they were the truth. Funny how they could also make you remember things you've overlooked or been to blind to take for their real value.
“-You, what's your favorite aroma?
-Vanilla.”
“-Miyavi is like a fire-cracker. He and parties are synonymous.
-Then what am I, Gacchan?
-You don't belong with a party, You... Parties just come and go.”
“I just wish I could come home earlier, come to you.”
“My co-actor is such a wonderful friend. Ken-san is a father figure and at the same time a friend. He wants to meet you. Give us his blessings or something.”
“Want to come with me to America? We could conquer Las Vegas, the town where everything is possible. On the other hand, if you do come, I could never concentrate. We'll just have to roam Las Vegas by ourselves, sometime. How about when we're old and wrinkly?”
“-I'm sure you watched today's show.
-Yeah, I had thought that we had had sex the night before you almost drowned and gave me a heart attack.
-I live to attack you every night, in bed. I love you.”
“I've been a blind fool, haven't I?”
“Won't contradict. God, I can't believe I came close to losing you.”
“You wouldn't have lost me, Gacchan. I would never really stop loving you. Now get into bed. You look like you're about to faint with tiredness.”
“I really wanted to spend tonight with you, and not sleeping. The fans really spoiled my plans this time.”
“You had fun. I'm sorry you had to go through this because of me.”
He got out of his clothes and we both climbed into bed. He was already getting sleepy, wrapped in the soft blankets, his arms and legs wrapped around my naked form. It felt heavenly to feel his skin against mine again. I felt free. He was still talking though, when he should have been asleep.
“I'm just sorry I never noticed it sooner, that you had to hurt so much. I could have said all this and nothing would have ever happened. Promise you'll stay?”
“Forever.”
And like that, he was asleep. Moments later, I was asleep too, and for the first time in years I knew that we would have forever.
Author: yukigafuru
Pairing: GacktxYou
Rating: PG-15
Warnings: manxman love
Discalimer: if I owned them, would I be writing this and not in their bed? I think not.
Summary: Even what seems as a perfect relationship can be so easily destroyed, if there is not enough communication, if doubts appeared. Can it fix itself?
Author comment: wanted to write another GacktxYou for a time but got too caught up in other projects. After going to the anniversary life, this is what came up. Partly inspired by the live, most of it inspired by my dirty imagination.
Forever
I wonder for how long he'll allow me to remain by his side, just how many days, weeks, months, maybe even years? It seems like ages have passed since the first day I joined him in his bed and at the same time, it feels as if not even a day has passed at all. How did I allow myself to fall in love with him? How did it come to this? I know that for now, I'm the one in his bed but that could change in a moment, in a fraction of a second, couldn't it? I wish I could trust him when he tells me he loves me, when he holds me, when he keeps coming back to me... But couldn't he be doing the same with dozens others? I only know he's not because he doesn't have the time for that, but that could change.
I always thought him extraordinary, in all possible senses of the word: his voice, his eyes, the way he moved his body, his posture, everything about him screamed different, whereas I, well, I was the average school boy, nothing fantastic there except only the fact that the platinum blonde actually suited me more than my natural black. I was the solitary one, he was Mr. popularity; the average teenager love story. Only I didn't hate him and he didn't have this unusual hidden passion for me. What got us together (not in the sense you imagine) was music. It became our bond, our common reason for living, our own wonder. But even here, we were different: he wanted to conquer the world, I was more than happy to just enjoy it.
Because of that, he left. In search of his dream, a dream that did not include me. It surprised me that he hadn't forgotten even my name when I got that phone call years later. I had done almost nothing for myself, which was again predictable, he had become a small shining star, he wanted to climb higher. I was flattered that he wanted me. After all, what did I have to lose? Absolutely nothing.
The love story still didn't begin. No, it took a couple of years of getting to know each other again. I was virtually unchanged, he had become someone I hardly knew anymore. There had been some sort of boyishness in him before, some sort of innocence, that had now disappeared completely. He was determined, fierce, attractive, stubborn, intelligent, but he just wasn't shining anymore, at least not in my eyes, not in the way he shined before. Whereas I had been and will always be a ruby, at most, he had been a rough diamond and the years had polished many of the edges. The person before me had more of the hardness and invulnerability of a diamond than I could ever think humanly possible.
That helped him overcome diseases, lack of sleep, a never-ending training schedule, living among foreigners, assembling some sort of a new band, only this time it wasn't a band, we were his support, nothing more, nothing less, completely replaceable.
So how did it all start? Beats me if I know. I just found myself one day completely in love with him, with this new entity I had been standing next to. I guess almost everyone goes through that, in some degree, they think him strange, otherworldly at first (the other-worldly part never quite disappears) but before they know it, they're caught in his charm. It's so like him. I was never a singular case in anything I did. Why would I be in this? I had fallen in love with the one man that would want nothing to do with me.
I suppose it would have hurt more if it hadn't been so damn clear from the first. I just accepted it, I guess. What was there left to do? I wouldn't have left him and the music anyway, so what was the point in making myself suffer. If there's one thing I pride myself with, well, that's being quite level-headed about things.
Months passed. They say that time heals everything. Let me tell you that it's bullshit. Time heals nothing in itself, you heal if you want to heal, if you're meant to heal, if you can heal. I didn't even want to. Not because I held any expectations, just because loving him was as much a part of me as playing the guitar or the violin. I never expected him to come to me.
I know it sounds stupid, but I love the feel of the rain, during the stormy season. It all has to do with my so-called rationality. Tsuyu is damned hot, the only thing that makes it temporarily bearable is a soak. And the rain seems to cleanse everything, even one's soul.
We lived in the same huge house. He has always had a thing for huge houses. And he doesn't really like living alone; we were also still at the beginning of everything, so one huge house suited us just fine. A huge house with a moderately big garden. Just because the houses are huge doesn't mean the gardens have to correspond... I was practicing a few chords in my room when I heard the sudden rap of the rain on my window. Like most summer storms, it comes suddenly, few drops at first and then, depending on god knows what, keeps it up like that, more of a drizzle than a real rain, stops soon, or grows into a downpour. You never know which one it is. (never been one to trust the weather man)
At first, I just stood there, listening to the gentle rapping for a few moments and then, the sudden need to get out enveloped me. What was I doing inside when I could be out there? I left my guitar and in my room wear I just went out, allowed myself to get soaked. The drizzle became a downpour.
Have you ever taken the time to actually get hit by a summer storm? Let the wind and the rain chill you to the bones? You should, someday. It's exhilarating. You feel alive, like every single drop of blood in your body is boiling, screaming for freedom. That was such a day and such a rain for me.
I just stood there for what seemed hours (I later found out it had been just a few minutes), until suddenly I was no longer being hit by the violent slaps of rain. But the rain hadn't stopped, I could still hear it and feel it around me. Opening my eyes, taking in my surroundings, it hit me in the face, his body and umbrella shielding me from the rain. Not long after that, I was being practically hauled into the house, undressed, redressed in warm clothes and lowered into the chair in front of the fire. Did he imagine we were in England or something? He must have thought it strange that I hadn't spoken one word. Because he was the one breaking the silence.
“Are you okay?” Surely a nod would do, right? So I just nodded. His brows raised some more.
“Then why were you out there in that rain? And why are you not talking?”
Guess I couldn't get away with silence more than I already had. I just didn't feel a lot like talking. And I liked hearing his voice, how quaint of me.
“You know I love the rain.”
“That was a damn storm, You! And why weren't you talking? It's not even just about today either. We don't really talk anymore, not like we used to. I never got around to gather my wits and ask you about it.”
“I just didn't feel like chatting much. And people change. We're not the same boys we were anymore. You've changed.”
“Damn it! When are you going to start telling the truth?” He seemed angry. I had no idea why. Surely it couldn't affect him that much, could it? I mean, why would he bother with me anyway?
“There's nothing to tell. And why are you so bothered about this anyway?”
For a few moments, there was plain hurt on his face and it left me speechless again. It wasn't anger or annoyance, it was plain hurt, and it left me more confused than I had ever been in my life.
“You do know I care about you, right?”
Now that was a sensitive subject.
“You were the one that left.”
He seemed genuinely sorrowful and regretful.
“I know. And I can't say I'm sorry. Not for following what got me closer to my dream. But I always meant coming back for you. I was never leaving you behind.”
“It's in the past, anyway. It doesn't matter anymore.”
I tried to get up and leave but he wouldn't have it. He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me back down in the chair again, leaning over me.
“It does, to me. I want us back. I need you in my life like that again. And I'll do whatever it takes to get you.”
Always the confident one. Couldn't blame him either. He really did almost always get what he wanted.
My love for him, did he know it then? I don't think so. I could of course be wrong. Whichever the case, a couple of days later, after rehearsal, when we were the only two left in the rehearsal room (have no idea where everyone had gone), I found myself pinned against the mirrored wall and kissed senselessly by the man I was in love with. That's how it all started. Did he do it because he wanted that thing, whatever it had been between us, back? Did he do it because he realized he loved me? I don't think it's the latter. I never held that illusion.
Afterwards, my mind supplied me with two truths. I would never be free of my love for him and now I knew why he was so proud of his bed skills. I would always love him because he filled me like no one else ever had. It may sound as stupid romanticism but in those moments, I felt like he knew my body better than his own, he handled me like he would handle his precious piano, he made me feel heaven. Bottom line, I was head over heals with my love for him. But that day he never said I love you. At the moment my mind had been too clouded by pleasure to actually understand that but days of remembering and dreaming with my eyes wide open revealed the truth to me.
He said it a few days later, and he has kept saying it ever since, but I just wish he would have said it that one time I completely gave myself to him.
I never expected him to come back though. Our relationship was the same for a few days (if you count a head-in-the -clouds me as being the same) until again he decided to invade me once more. This time more words were exchanged though. Should I count this as the beginning of our relationship?
“You, come here?” Why does it always happen that the room suddenly becomes vacant whenever he does that?
I obeyed.
“I must admit I thought things would go different. I thought you'd fall in love with me, if you weren't already in love, and be by my side, be my companion from then on. It's been days and you haven't changed. Well, you are a bit more thoughtful and retreated, if that's even possible. What do I need to do to make you fall in love with me, You?”
His arms were around my waist and he was pressing his cheek against my shirt, so he must have heard the sound of my heart beating madly in my chest. Was he still playing as if he didn't know it already? I was never a good actor, not like him.
“I do love you, Gackt.”
I think the statement took him a bit by surprise because he was up from that couch in moments, looking at me as if he wanted to see the depths of my soul.
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
I've always loved his smile. He could probably defuse a terrorist gathering with just that smile. He got me with that again that time. He was smiling as if I had just returned him his most prized possession. Seconds later he was kissing me, leaving me breathless again, taking me, whispering 'I love you'. I was happy.
So what went wrong? I don't even know it myself, I can only guess. I don't think it's his fault. It's probably mine. He kept saying 'I love you', he kept coming back, he declared his love for me on stage (well, not exactly in this terms but still), he was my friend and my lover, my confidant and my nemesis in one. I loved him to the point I'd do anything for him. No matter how stupid it sounds, even in my ears, I would have given my life for him.
Who am I fooling? I still love him to madness. But I'm afraid he has never loved me. The pain just kept growing. It started with him and those damned interviews, him saying how much he loves this and that type of woman. Call it jealousy, call it common sense. I never loved those statements. But as long as he came home, back to me, kept whispering his declarations to me, I'd be content. And then, there were the commercials of him embracing beautiful women, him becoming friends with said beautiful women. Him becoming close with many beautiful men and women. The jealousy thing just grew. His time out of the house and out of my bed also grew. I knew he was doing it for his dream but that didn't make the pain any less.
It didn't help that we were growing old, while he, he barely changed at all. He was still as beautiful, perhaps even more so, than all those years back. His personality even changed for the best, he became more loving, warmer, funnier, lost some sort of edge. I hated that he'd show that side of him to anyone else at first, too. I caught myself being idiotic in time, and came to accept it quite easily.
The movie with Hyde, I could still live with that, although he was away for what seemed like ages. But I knew Hyde, the man was straight and in love. He had come into our house, he knew about us, he was a good friend. I trusted him and I was right to trust him. I didn't like other people on the crew but that's another story. The movie came and went. It brought a slight increase in the pain, perhaps because of the solitude, but that was it.
But then, he tried forming this new band with Miyavi and the rest. Do I need to spell it out what I think about Miyavi? I'm not blind, I know the man is like a flame, beautiful and dangerous at the same time. Whereas I'm like ice, I can only be beautiful to those who can accept the cold, but I'm never dangerous. He and Miyavi, you should see them together. There's years separating them and still they get along as if... I don't even want to go there. I started feeling true jealousy for the first time. And this time, it wasn't just because of Miyavi, but also because he had started working away from us, he had started to be out rather than in, our relationship, I thought it started growing cold. Perhaps it was a premonition, perhaps I knew it was the beginning. One day, he'd leave, he'd leave us all behind.
The movies came after that, together with needing to accept the fact that I wouldn't see him for months, that I'd only hear for him once in a week for a few moments, that I couldn't believe in his words anymore. Even when filming the drama, he was home and yet he wasn't.
It became so hard and so painful there were times I couldn't breathe anymore. I kept hoping that he'd come back though. He always did. I thought that I was irreplaceable to him, his home, me and the band would be the constant in his turbulent life. I was always a constant, but maybe he doesn't need that after all.
I realized that tonight, while he was there on stage, celebrating his birthday and at the same time, the ten years anniversary of his solo career. I knew that tonight would be the beginning of the end for us, felt it in my bones, from the moment he started talking about Fukuyama and making new friends. The videos of all those people telling him they loved him just made me want to smash something. But then, when he was presenting the band, I suddenly felt cold and dead. After years of being together with Ju-ken, the new bassist just took his place as if he had been there all along, the fans were as warm to him as with Ju-ken and Gackt certainly presented him in the warmest tones. It made me realize that none of us were constants. We were easily replaceable. We were his back-up but never his partners, we were the Gackt job after all, there for him and because of him, nothing more. Including me.
Sure, knowing me, I'd be there for him till the end, I'd be by his side even when he didn't need me anymore. But if he stopped needing me, than that just meant he didn't love me. For now, the music kept us together, but even that would have an end and then, what comes then?
In the changing room, after we went out there again, I couldn't help from succumbing to all the pain that had gathered over long, long years.
“You, are you alright?”
I should have been the one asking him that, since he was obviously the more tired but I was just wallowing in self pity and pain.
“Yeah.”
“You don't look like it. Tell me. What's wrong?”
He shouldn't have insisted, I shouldn't have let it go.
“I was just wondering for how long this farce will last. For how long you'll think I have some uses at your side, for how long you'll keep lying that you love me.”
It didn't need a genius to see that he was surprised and hurt and I felt sorry for saying it the moment it left my mouth. I had practically accelerated everything when all I wanted was to hold on for a little longer.
The alarm sounded and we had to get on stage. A happy event that was...
The live seemed to go on and end in a fog for me. I didn't know if I was playing or drowning. It could have been either. At the end, I just couldn't be there anymore. I didn't even change before I got into a cab and drove home.
…................................................
“Gackt, we need to talk.”
“Oh, it's you, Chacha. Sorry, I don't feel like talking right now.”
“I know you're mad and hurt.”
“I'm not hurt. I'm just mad as hell. I need to stop myself before I go in there and whack some sense into him.”
“He left.”
All Gackt's pretenses just faded away as he heard those two words. He had been trying to control his pain with anger and make himself think that You had suddenly been hit in the head by something and would turn back to normal if one hit him again, or something like that.
“What?”
“As soon as the performance was over, he got into a cab and left.”
Gackt just let himself fall on the couch. All of his tiredness came back then and there, along with his emotions, practically crushing him. What was the point of living like this again?
“Gackt, do you know why he left?”
“I have no idea. He thinks I don't love him. He thinks I'll leave him or something. How can he even...”
“That's why I said we need to talk. You never saw it, although it was plain as day.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He's been hurting, for a long time. You've been hurting him.”
“I neve...”
“Will you just listen to me? I watched him for years, Gackt, you asked me to, to take care of him when you weren't there. Do you know how much he suffered when you weren't there? Do you know how it pained him to hear you say over and over again what kind of woman you like and all that crap? You getting closer and closer to other people and what it looked like farther and farther away from him? I confess I barely realized all this partly myself. He's too good at hiding his feelings. But tonight, I happened to see his face when you talked about Fukuyama. He had tears in his eyes, Gackt, and You almost never cries. He seemed dead when he heard all those comments and robotic through the rest of the night. I think something snapped today and if you don't get to him soon and say the right things...”
“I just don't understand it, ChaCha. How can he think I don't love him? Why has he been hurting?”
“God, Gackt! Have you ever talked about your feelings with him? About your situation? Or did you just assume he'd understand? I know you've told him you loved him, but other than that? For Christ's sake, Gackt, I can tell you I love you and it would be true. I love you as a brother, as family. Those three words are just not enough! I can't believe you never realized this.”
“I've been a blind fool, haven't I?”
“Yes! Now go get him!”
…...............................................................
I've started packing but I can't get my hands to stop from shaking. So I just decided to wait for him on our bed. No, his bed. I have to make myself stop using this 'our' thing. Whatever it is we had, it's gone now. And I was the genius that put an end to it. Maybe it's been minutes, maybe it's been hours, I've done nothing but wait.
At last, I hear his steps in the corridor. He'll be here soon now. I can't stop from shaking.
“You! Good, you're here.”
I definitely never expected him to launch himself at me and embrace me tight.
“You idiot! I don't know what's been going on in that head of yours but we need to talk and set it straight. I'm getting too old to be running after you like this.”
“Gackt... I'm sorry. I just...”
“Be honest with me.”
He looks me straight in the eye and I know I can be nothing but honest.
“Do you believe what you said? Do you really think I don't love you?”
“Gackt, I... I don't know. There are times when you make me feel like I'm everything for you and then there are times, and they've gotten more frequent than ever, when I just know that it's all going to end, become just a memory.”
“You, look at me.”
I do. He seems so tired, he's barely keeping himself up. I shouldn't be doing this to him, not now, not on his birthday, not after that extremely long live, not after he's been busier than ever.
“You're tired. We can talk tomorrow.”
“No. I want to spend this special night with my lover, with my soul mate. And I can't do that if I don't teach some sense into him. Just listen, and believe me. I've never, in my entire life, said anything truer than when I say 'I love you' to you. I've loved you since high school, since the moment I saw you for the first time, playing the violin under the full-bloom sakura tree. I fell madly in love with you and tried desperately to make you like me back. I never gave up on my dream, I've done many of the things I've done in my life partly for you. I won't deny my own ambition, but part of that is so that I could make myself someone you'd fall in love with, someone you'd be proud to love. The first time I held you, it felt as if... I can' even put it in words. You were my everything, You, and I was making love to you. I couldn't speak, I couldn't think, I couldn't do anything but love you. And afterwards, I was so afraid that I had made a mistake, driven you away from me. You never once said 'I love you' then. I was frightened. But nothing seemed to change between us after that and I couldn't stand it anymore. The first time you said 'I love you' it... I don't have words to describe how happy it made me feel. You, I've loved you for more than 15 years. Do you honestly think I can ever stop loving you?”
I didn't care that tears were flowing down my cheeks. I didn't care that I was making a fool of myself in front of him. I was looking into his eyes and everything he said was true. I knew him well enough to know that he was not lying to me. But then...
“Then why that band with Miyavi, why leave me behind so long, why the lack of phone calls, why can you so easily accept someone new in our band, why talk about giving up in front of your fans, why Gackt?” And then, I added in a smaller voice. “And why can you keep loving me when there are so many others, so many beautiful and talented people, you could choose from?”
“God, I'm in love with an idiot!” He was joking, but it didn't make me laugh. He realized that and looked me straight in the eyes again, baring his soul to me. A person who bowed to no one, was entrusting himself to me. “I just wanted to try a different type of music. Do you want to know why it didn't work out? Because you weren't by my side, that's why! I didn't call because calling would almost make me jump into that plane and come back to you. I can easily accept someone else in the band because the friends that were there before didn't disappear from my life, they just chose a different road. They're still there. And because they're not you or ChaCha. You are my lover, the person I need to have by my side. He, although I don't think you could be jealous of ChaCha, he's been the father/mother figure in my everyday life. You two grounded me, kept me real, in a world where that can so easily slip from you. And then, there's this problem with your jealousy. What could possibly make me look at other people, when I have the most beautiful being in the world by my side? Funny you would think of yourself as replaceable when to me, you're my irreplaceable flower. You, every lyric I've wrote is for you, every minute I sing, I sing my love for you.”
Funny how those words could wash away years of doubt and pain, simply because they were the truth. Funny how they could also make you remember things you've overlooked or been to blind to take for their real value.
“-You, what's your favorite aroma?
-Vanilla.”
“-Miyavi is like a fire-cracker. He and parties are synonymous.
-Then what am I, Gacchan?
-You don't belong with a party, You... Parties just come and go.”
“I just wish I could come home earlier, come to you.”
“My co-actor is such a wonderful friend. Ken-san is a father figure and at the same time a friend. He wants to meet you. Give us his blessings or something.”
“Want to come with me to America? We could conquer Las Vegas, the town where everything is possible. On the other hand, if you do come, I could never concentrate. We'll just have to roam Las Vegas by ourselves, sometime. How about when we're old and wrinkly?”
“-I'm sure you watched today's show.
-Yeah, I had thought that we had had sex the night before you almost drowned and gave me a heart attack.
-I live to attack you every night, in bed. I love you.”
“I've been a blind fool, haven't I?”
“Won't contradict. God, I can't believe I came close to losing you.”
“You wouldn't have lost me, Gacchan. I would never really stop loving you. Now get into bed. You look like you're about to faint with tiredness.”
“I really wanted to spend tonight with you, and not sleeping. The fans really spoiled my plans this time.”
“You had fun. I'm sorry you had to go through this because of me.”
He got out of his clothes and we both climbed into bed. He was already getting sleepy, wrapped in the soft blankets, his arms and legs wrapped around my naked form. It felt heavenly to feel his skin against mine again. I felt free. He was still talking though, when he should have been asleep.
“I'm just sorry I never noticed it sooner, that you had to hurt so much. I could have said all this and nothing would have ever happened. Promise you'll stay?”
“Forever.”
And like that, he was asleep. Moments later, I was asleep too, and for the first time in years I knew that we would have forever.