Chapter Text
🎶 Inspired playlists
- shatters of a dream (lyrics relate to the characters)
- champagne paradise (kayn's overall music style)
Sitting on a chair facing the mirror, Kayn could see his own tired expression as if in a blurred portrait. He was shirtless, very sweaty, eyes shining disenchanted under his loose eyelids. The backstage hustle was a frenzy from which the singer's mind had already drifted away; the only frenzy that interested him now was the one in his guts. He slouched with his shoulders really dropped and the tension in his hands kept him cracking his knuckles insistently. Soon there was nothing left to crack, so he resorted to forcing his finger joints to cause them pain.
Massaging his back and squeezing strategic muscles in his neck was a middle-aged woman. Her curly hair was tied in a braid, her Latino accent slipping into her words every now and then. She smiled, contagious, and perhaps she was more satisfied than the singer — it wouldn't be that hard.
“You nailed the concert today, Shieda," she said, her words accentuated with adrenaline and her Brazilian accent. The rush excited her blood, and surely having Shieda Kayn under her hands brought her spasms. The singer had an apathetic look ahead.
"I know I did, and you’re not allowed to call me by my first name" his voice was flat. Her eyes widened suddenly, feeling her face flush and humiliation stamp itself on her chest, as if she had fallen to her knees inside herself.
"Oh... yes... uh... I'm sorry, Mr. Kayn," she squeaked.
"You're not paid to speak," he replied.
"Sorry," she repeated only to avoid her voice trembling. Kayn abruptly pushed her hand off his shoulders and stood up. His gaze was narrow, and then he raised his voice for everyone to hear.
"Someone bring me a vodka with energy drink, now!"
"I have barely arrived and I already find you acting like a diva, Kayn."
The collected voice came from the only person there who, besides Kayn, wasn't running around to get something ready after the concert. The man calmly crossing the dressing room had white, straight hair, and no one could see he had tattooed arms under the grey suit he was wearing. It was Zed.
"No one does anything right here if not treated like this," Kayn shrugged and sat back down, huffing. He ran his hand over his face once more, anxiously shaking his legs.
"Calm the fuck down and look at me, Shieda. We need to talk."
"I don't want to talk, I want to leave this stupid Gotham-ass looking city," the singer bent over and rested his elbows on his knees, his irises vibrating, tormented and restless. His gaze scrutinized his own shaky hands and then rose to follow the color lines of his tattooed forearm. The drawing on his skin was pitch black ink plastered through his entire forearm. Coming out of the dark, the artistic and impeccable design of a circle with one adjacent triangle pointing to his wrist, so perfect it really looked like a steel piece. The finish was so exquisite that it seemed to stand out in an extra dimension. In that, Kayn allowed himself to be hypnotized.
"Your fans are clawing at each other’s eyes outside for a piece of the T-shirt you threw into the crowd," Zed commented with a sigh. His voice seemed an unpleasant noise scratching the singer's abstraction.
"Let them kill each other for all I care," Kayn wiped his sweaty face with his hands.
"Social media must be full of photos of you soloing the guitar shirtless right now."
“You really talk as if I gave a fuck." Kayn sank into the chair. The two remained silent while outside the screams of the crowd and the effervescent sound of the audience still reverberated outside. Zed shook his head and sighed deeply, feeling his head heavy with fatigue and stress.
That tour had been like a beating with baseball bats. Kayn was already a pain in the ass, but when he returned from the concerts, he got completely insufferable. A short girl with tied hair entered his field of vision. She handed him, head bowed, the drink.
"Get out of here." Kayn took the glass from the girl's hands, and her eyes were terrified as if she were facing a murderer. The singer took a large sip, grabbing the arm of his chair as he did so. Zed felt the sour taste of disappointment and frustration in his mouth when he saw that Kayn spat back his vodka with energy drink into the glass.
"What the hell is this?" Kayn yelled back at the tiny girl who had served him.
"Belvedere and Red Bull, sir." She whimpered like a whipped dog.
"It's awful, go make another one." Like throwing a paper ball into a trash can, Kayn dropped the glass on the floor, which, in a burst of glass and alcohol, shattered into pieces. Zed huffed and stood up. Kayn's eyes moved everywhere; with those dull eyes, he was the picture of disturbance.
"Stop acting like a teenage girl in crisis, Kayn, I'm tired of your tantrums!" He grabbed his arm and felt the singer’s skin boiling, almost feverish.
"Let go of me, Zed, or I'll fire you!" The singer finally seemed to be able to fix his eyes. He stared at Zed deep into them.
“Fire me, and you won't last a day alone, you idiot!"
"Great, you're fired, then." With a more spoiled voice than he wanted it to sound, Kayn sentenced. All Zed did was roll his eyes.
"Oh, Kayn, you don't even know what you're saying!"
"Where you came from, I'll get a hundred. I just need to call K'Sante."
“K'Sante?" Zed almost laughed, but it sounded more like a growl. "Do you think calling your big shots at the record company will make you get away with this? K'Sante is furious with you!"
The most childish expression Kayn could muster, burlesque, filled with irony, marked his face.
“Is daddy mad at me?" His eyebrows formed an upward arrow as he feigned a sad expression and pouted. "Oh, no, now I'm going to cry."
Zed let go of his arm and shook his head. He didn't need that. He was tired.
"We'd better talk when we're in California. If we go on here, I may punch you in the face." He gave his back.
Kayn watched him leave, swallowed hard, and clenched his fingers into a tight fist. The buzz from outside was squeaking inside his brain. Too much movement. Hating every single light around him.
Please, make these people stop screaming outside.
He felt his mouth dry. He felt his guts boiling and the blood in his head pulsating. He felt like kneeling over that glass he had thrown on the floor, like picking up those shards with his hands and throwing them at everyone. A guy passed by his side and brushed against his arm accidentally. It burned, how to explain? Kayn found himself roaring and barking at him like an enraged animal, like a beast wanting to tear apart everything in front of it. He looked around and all he saw were those lights around the mirrors, and he cursed them.
So, he gave his back and locked himself in the bathroom. He still had his hands on the door, as if pushing it to close, as if someone were violently wishing to enter, like in a zombie attack, as if thousands of thirsty fans were trying to force their way in. He stopped there, straightened his body, and found himself standing. His breathing came in stages, each one more trembling than the last. The bathroom was dark, and the lights sneaking through the window were the same ones he had defamed moments before. He opened the cabinet behind the mirror and plunged his hand inside it, feeling his dizzy hands hitting the bottles and soaps, making them fall into the sink below. He closed the cabinet, leaned his hands on the counter, and stared at himself in the mirror. He saw every line of his beautiful face outlined by the stupid lights, and he flipped himself off, showing the middle finger at his warm, humid, hyena-smiling image. He grabbed a small box of soap from under the tap and tore off a piece of cardboard from it. He threw his body on the floor and knelt beside the toilet, closing its lid. He took off his shoes and, from under the sole, took a small transparent package with white powder. The Brazilian light, slandered and complicit, seemed increasingly hesitant. He rolled the piece of paper into a small tube, and with it, he snorted another line of disgrace into his body.
***
The ten-hour flight back home had seemed like years to Zed, and the night of sleep that followed was not enough to recover from his fatigue. Maybe not even a week in bed would suffice. However, he didn't have much choice; there was always work, he always needed to be present. There were no vacations, no weekends, no rest. So there he was, walking through the corridors of the building where he worked as if walking in a swamp and needing to make an effort to lift his feet off the ground with each step.
He had turned forty years old in September - two weeks ago, in Buenos Aires, still while traveling with Kayn and the team. He had been so busy and focused on the tour that he only remembered it was his birthday when, at ten o'clock at night, his two daughters called him from Wyoming, where they lived with their mother. The rest of the congratulations he received through the internet and and text messages; he didn't get to see even half.
The day after Zed's birthday, Kayn had done the worst show of his career. He was late and presented a poor performance, with reduced time on stage. It all boiled down to bad mood from the hangover, disrespect to the team and fans, and a repertoire of half a dozen poorly sung songs, in a voice spoiled by the parties in his hotel suite.
Kayn not only didn't congratulate his agent but also gave him as a gift another truckload of headaches.
Forty years old. Well, he wasn't young anymore, but still, he shouldn't feel so drained. It was as if the last few months with Kayn had sucked his vitality and left him dry like a raisin. As he walked through the building and crossed to his office, it seemed that the strength for his steps didn't emanate from within him.
Finally, finally, the tour was over. São Paulo had passed, and he was finally back in California. He wanted to take a vacation, to take a plane to Japan while he stayed in a chalet just drinking wine and watching the snow outside the window. But if he wanted to do that without risking Kayn blowing up his own reputation, he would have to stick the singer in a spaceship and send him to space.
Kayn existing now meant Kayn getting into trouble. Zed had an immense portfolio of reports of him doing things while high or intoxicated, insulting paparazzi, mistreating fans, and it was increasingly difficult to not allow it to burst into full canceling him. Keeping away from the media his sexual affairs with married women and famous actors had been a masterful job. After all, being Kayn's agent was not a job for anyone, and so far, that man had been Zed.
Zed's distraction vanished as soon as he opened the door to his office, giving way to a startle that stiffened the muscles of his shoulders.
He didn't know what he should worry more about: if it was the two people waiting for him in his office, or the fact that all the folders he kept in the office about Shieda Kayn were open; including some he kept in a safe with a password.
As Zed entered the room with twisted face expressions, a mixture of astonishment and indignation, the two individuals present gave him patient glances.
"Good morning, Zed." In front of him, a tall woman in a grenadine suit stood up; it was Akali. Her high heels marked the steps she took as she walked to the door to close it back.
Zed then glanced at the white sofa beside. With one of his arms stretched along the backrest of the sofa and his legs crossed, there was a white-haired young man sitting, whom he had never seen before. With a thin nose, green-mauve eyes, and a sharply tailored gray suit, making him stand out without taking away from the piece an elegant cadence. His long, completely straight hair seemed to have very fine strands, all of it tied now in a bun.
"What are you doing here?" Indignation began to overflow in Zed's voice. Before he could ask anything else, Akali put her hand on his back.
"Come here, we need to talk." She had a cordial voice as she guided him to one of the chairs. "We couldn't call your secretary, and you changed your cell phone. K'Sante was starting to get furious, but we understand now why you're avoiding me. You are hard to track, a very analogical man to have stuff printed out like a caveman, but we manage to get what we need in order to protect you.”
Akali picked up a white paper with dozens of numbers from the desk. "Toxicology test?" She didn't seem worried, nor affected. It was as if she were talking about any mundane and absolutely boring thing to her, like gardening.
"He..." Zed sighed. Lowered his voice. "I'll fix this, I've said it a thousand times. I don't want anyone messing with this. You need to let me handle him, without the press, without any more scandals."
"Do you really think he can be fixed?" Akali sentence sounded vulturine. "You can speak freely, he's with me." She glanced at the sofa, referring to the young man sitting on it. Zed turned his gaze to him.
"And you are...?"
The long-haired man stood up. He exuded firmness in everything - from the expression on his face to the steps he took - and was yet another voice of arrogant superiority in that room.
"It’s a pleasure, Mr. Zed." The other extended his hand with a cynical smile. "I'm Yone, Public Relations from Yale University, I'm working for K'Sante now."
Zed greeted him with a solid handshake but remained seated and shielded by his defensive posture.
"Excuse me, Mr. Public Relations from Yale, but I can't picture how this matter could fit with you."
"We have new plans for Kayn, you know." It was Akali who answered. Her expression finally took some shape; a caricatured form of slight commiseration. "This situation is exhausting you, and it's no wonder. Kayn is getting out of everyone's control."
"This won't be bad. There's no need for you to wear yourself out like this." Yone added, using a consolingly intimate tone, as if predicting a coup de grâce.
"We"are going to resolve this in the best possible way, so you can rest assured. But you care too much about him to be a part of this. So, I suggest your retirement." Akali then threw the sentence like a sharp and direct blow.
"What?" Zed frowned, gripping the chair's arms. His gaze oscillated violently between the other two, immersed in indignation. "Did K'Sante send you here to fire me? And all because I care too much about Kayn?"
Yone and Akali remained silent, arrogantly complacent. Realizing he had raised his voice too much, Zed gave a bitter smile and let out a shrill laugh.
"Let me guess: K'Sante decided to hire this pretty boy here in my place." He inspected Yone from head to toe, his voice dripping with irony. "I wonder why that would be, right?"
Unaffected by Zed's words, Yone turned to the sofa where he had been sitting and picked up his briefcase. He straightened his posture and looked back at Akali.
"I'll leave you two alone to settle whatever is necessary." He said before giving his back.
"This pathological idiocy of K'Sante's will be the ruin of all of you." Zed's phrase sounded half prophetic, half cursing. "And Kayn's. Mark my words."
Yone paused for a moment, still holding the doorknob. He turned it and made sure a satisfied and self-assured smirk spread across his face before opening the door and leaving the room.
Chapter Text
With the Bluetooth earset in his right ear, a cup of cold brew in one hand and the leather briefcase in the other, a Yone in an all-dark suit was walking the length of the garage fast, as his natural pace had already came to be.
“We can't do this yet, Akali!” His voice to the phone was outraged.
Akali, on the other end, said she didn't care, and that that was what Yone had been hired for.
His head was throbbing and her voice sounded screeching to him.
“I wasn't hired to have my name thrown in the mud. I'm not an idiot, I know what I have to do. I did my homework, Akali, did you do yours?”
Yone opened the door of his car and sat on the driver's seat, rolling his eyes at the answer of hers. It wasn't enough to have a drug addict to take care of, he also needed to listen every five minutes to someone trying to teach him how to do the job he did better than anyone. He tossed his briefcase aside and ran a hand over his forehead.
"I need to talk to Kayn in person." Yone said then and grabbed the wheel, not starting the car. “If you don't want to let me work, you can take my job as the stupid superstar’s personal manager. Do you want it?”
Without answering the question, Akali said goodbye and hung up. Yone opened his briefcase and looked for a painkiller. As he removed a pill from the blister pack, he realized that he had been Shieda Kayn’s manager for eighteen hours and eighteen thousand problems had already been thrown over his shoulders.
Yone was young, about twelve years younger than Kayn’s former agent, but he understood well that everything about stardom happens differently from the real world; and then, just sometimes, weirdly, it doesn’t. It is strenuous and stressful and frequently boring, not half as glamorous as anyone might think, but once in a while, it’s just plainly, outrageously bacchanalian, just enough to feel surreal. It’s driven, as expected, by money, a lot by careful, emotionless marketing calculations carried out by big boards and, way too frequently, nonsensical whims, vanities and vagaries coming from where you’d least expect. In order to succeed, you must be, at first, lucky; but also master these three areas, at least.
And he was sure he did. He was gifted, worked hard and fast and knew which weapons to use in each and every move so that he could make anyone do anything he wanted. It was his talent, as Kayn’s was blowing the roof of every stage he steps in. Yet, it indeed comes at a cost, one he wasn’t really compensating. He put the pill in his mouth and swallowed it with cold coffee. He had international artists on speed dial, but he had the same headache of the valet that parked his car or anyone else who served him. His body never asked how important he became and what a remarkable prodigy he was. His body was exhausted and it wanted him to stop the aggression. But he didn't listen.
He sped his car a little more briskly than he should have. He turned on the stereo and a Kayn song started playing. It had been almost two months all he heard was related to Kayn. He would wake up and go to sleep thinking of Kayn, and had never spoken to him. Kayn was an icon, and was virtual to Yone.
Akali sent him a message saying that Kayn was waiting for him. Yone read while driving, and realized that he wanted to get that music out. Kayn's voice was charming, and his guitar was really talented, as was the sound made by his drummers, keyboardists, and bassists; anonymous, eclipsed, which were switched all the time at will.
Yes, it was all very well done. But that pop rock written and made up my men in suits inside the label no longer fooled him. Love in the lyrics didn't seem all that exciting when it was the result of an argument with coffee, hiring musicians and lyricists to milk their lyrical words.
When Yone stopped at the reception of Kayn's house, he had no nervousness. He wasn't anxious, He wasn't worried. It was Shieda Kayn, but for him it was an exposed and dissected body. Yone just wanted that headache to go away, wanted to go home for a brandy and read a book. However, he smiled, showed documents, was always friendly and professional.
On every side there was ostentation; the glassed walls with that wonderful hill view, the ridiculously expensive furniture and art decoration, the giant cylindrical aquarium piercing the center of the house on all three floors - with seawater and Pacific fish. Yone was unaffected by anything he saw.
The housekeeper spoke quietly, and Yone needed to pay close attention to understand what he was saying. He seemed permanently tense, and he concluded that this was his boss' fault.
"Maybe you'd rather wait here..." He whispered.
"Rest assured, I know what I'm doing." Yone had a polite voice when he asked him to excuse him. He ignored the glass elevator; he was walking up the stairs, slow steps. He had a folder of documents and contracts for Kayn to sign and a dozen other affairs to take care of. He would have to be rigid, determined, and way more invasive than its job required at first.
He wasn’t just a manager. Not even Zed was, at this point. Kayn needed someone to take the reins. To make him walk the right steps even if it takes him to control his every move.
When he reached the floor, however, he realized that he had not gotten rid of the housekeeper's vigilance, who’d been following him the whole time and catching his breath to speak only to desist in the next second. Nearer the bedroom, he walked faster and gently touched Yone’s arm to get his attention.
"I believe I need to insist that you don't go in there, Mr. Yone."
Yone stopped walking and turned to him. A figure, albeit tall, with little presence, shoulders retracted, low voice.
"Sir, is that your defensive posture of yours due to some command you were given by your boss Kayn?"
"Not exactly, but..."
"Because, see, all the security allowed me in, I have all the necessary documents, Evelynn and Akali have already informed the house of me. I do know it wouldn’t be polite for me to go in if, say, he’s asleep or something in the middle of the day, but it isn’t like Zed had this kind of restraint nonetheless, specially when there are things to be taken care of. Could you then tell me why you are trying to keep me from coming in and talking to Kayn, just as Zed has always done, since I’m in his exact same place?”
There was a poignant intimidation among his polite and cordial words. He cleared his throat before speaking.
"It's just... well... Mr. Kayn is with someone right now."
"Oh." Yone didn't contain a laugh. “Who are we talking about?”
“I don't know who the girl is.”
“A fan?”
“That or a model, maybe. I think so. She looked young.”
“How young?”
“I can't tell.”
“Kayn brought a random, possibly underage fan into the goddamn house?”
The man just nodded, swallowing hard.
Yone snorted and gave his back to him. His footsteps hurried towards the bedroom and he opened the door. The anteroom of Kayn's room had a couple red sofas, more aggressive art pieces and a glass table, on top of which a red purse rested. On the right side there was an open door to a huge closet and on the left the wide passage to the actual bedroom.
"Mr. Kayn, I need to talk to you."
A silent moment, and from inside the room, he received the answer.
"Fuck you!" Kayn answered him. Yone would never mistake that voice. "Whoever it is, get the fuck of my room or I’ll kill you!"
"I'm not asking for permission. I'll come in, just... get decent.”
“Fuck you.” Kayn growled only. “You, go on.”
It was afternoon, but all the windows were closed. The room had a slightly rounded wall, and there was a jacuzzi, on a subtly raised platform. Over the huge bed, the stupidly white sheets reflected the artificial white light of the lamps, interspersed with neon remnants of private lamps, everything around in a conflictual art design, between violent and outraging, so unlike the rest of the house.
In the middle of the bed, the scene.
Kayn turned his head to Yone and propped his body on his elbows. He was wearing a T-shirt, nothing on his legs, fisting the sheets. A girl in jeans and a cropped top had her head between his legs, big eyes looking startled at Yone, apparently unaware of the thread of saliva from Kayn's body to her mouth. She swallowed hard, wiping her mouth and chin, and Yone sighed in dismay.
"Good afternoon, Kayn." His voice was calm and cynical. None of this embarrassed the white-haired man, and seemed to have the same indifferent effect on Kayn.
"Who the fuck are you?" Kayn frowned, sitting down.
"Who is she?" Yone raised his eyebrows.
Kayn grabbed her by the disheveled hair and pulled her head so that she would face him.
"What's your name again?" He asked.
"Zoey." She answered in a slightly thinner voice than Yone had imagined. His features looked too sweet and round to be safe.
"Her name is Zoey." Kayn continued to sit, bending his legs a little. "And yours?"
Yone didn't answer, just walked over, grabbed a light pink blouse off the bed, and grabbed the guest's arm.
"Zoey, get up from there." Yone's voice was calm and firm. The helpless look of the girl seemed a little too naive, and, God, the amount of trouble they’d be in.
"Hey, what the hell are you doing?" Kayn pushed Yone's arm. “Get the fuck off of my room, you sick fuck!”
Yone tossed his briefcase on the bed beside Kayn while Zoey got to her feet.
“Nice to meet you, boss. I'm Yone, your new manager and agent.” He had a wry voice. He took Zoey by the arm once more, controlling the firmness of his fingers so as not to squeeze, only guide her. While Kayn opened the briefcase that the slender white-haired man had thrown at him, Yone led the woman to the door and took her bag from the anteroom table.
With a sigh, before handing her the bag, Yone sighed to the girl.
“How old are you?”
“Nineteen.” Her thin voice sounded even more defenseless. She was scared, but she looked like just a fan with no self-respect. Yone had dealt with hundreds of them in his working years.
His idea about being just a groupie was confirmed when Yone looked at the tattoo on her forearm. It was a verse from the most famous single from Kayn's last album, Blade’s Reach. In fact, an inveterate fan stood before Yone. It wouldn't be a problem if it didn't look really young and could mean an extended stay in a hotel with iron bars at the window.
“I don’t mean to offend you, but would you mind showing your documents to prove it? Otherwise we might have to call your parents or Children Protection.” They obviously wouldn’t; Yone would do anything to silence her and whoever brought any of this to light. And he meant anything.
He didn’t come all the way there for a brat to ruin everything in his first day.
He gave her the red purse, and in response she took her driver's license from it, making Yone sigh with relief at the date of birth. In fact, she was of legal age and that wasn’t a falsification. Since he didn’t have to be this careful any longer, he dropped any gentleness; he started by telling her to take everything out of her pockets and show the contents of her purse to make sure she didn’t steal anything. As she complied and started crying, he called the security guards and checked her phone for recording, pictures or videos she could have taken; then told her that if anyone found out about any that, she was finished and he would get her prosecuted for invading Kayn’s residence. None of her emotional words on how she loved Kayn touched Yone the very least, and much less her insults.
Guiding the girl out of the room, the new manager heard the loud and mocking voice of Kayn’s.
"Are you going to finish the job she started, fuckface?"
The security guard Yone handed the girl to gave a quick glance inside, but, discreetly as his work always required, remained serious and gave his back, scouting the girl away. Yone was closing the door with a bitter smile on his face - one of his annoyed smiles, but with everything under control.
"Did you even see this girl's face?" Yone vituperated as he was back to the main room. Kayn was still sitting down exactly the same way; still pantless, still half-hard.
"Briefly." Kayn answered him after a sigh. “I just picked her up near my front gate.”
"Was she just a fan or a prostitute?"
"If she was a whore, she didn't charge me anything."
"What if she was a minor?"
"As long as she's giving good head..."
Yone ran a hand over his face and sighed.
“Okay. I’ll get to that very soon. First, put your pants back on.”
“I’m fine like this. If it scares, offends or tempts you, you are the one who should look the fuck away.”
Rolling his eyes, all Yone did was opening his briefcase to show Kayn the folders that mattered. That was exactly the kind of behavior he knew he should expect - no reason for allowing it to bother him now that it presented itself. Before he started saying anything, Yone started searching the room. He feared that Zoey might have left a point, tape recorder or camera. He was checking under the bed when he started talking.
“I came here to do business. K'Sante sent me here.” After getting back to his feet, Yone pointed to the contracts Kayn now had beside him, meaningless to him like scattered sheets of a kindergarten’s work. "I'm your new agent and manager," he reiterated.
"Did Zed resign?" Kayn frowned.
“I heard that you fired him, Kayn.”
“But I didn't sign anything.”
“It's K'Sante and his partners the ones who sign. That's up to the record company.” Yone kept checking the room. “It’s all there if you bother to read. I also sent you the digital versions if you want to check it over, Zed was a paper person but this is very outdated."
Kayn didn't seem willing to do any of that, and he didn't want to listen either.
“Okay, whatever, I don't know who you are and I don't want you in my house. I'll call K'Sante and get Zed back. ”
With a scoff, Yone took his phone from his pants pocket and walked to the bed once more to hand it over to Kayn, his expression serene.
"Be my guest." Yone continued to show the device so that the other knew he could use it, could call anyone, because he had nothing to fear. “But Zed won't even want to come back. He got tired of you. K'Sante, Akali, Evelynn, they all got tired. ”
They both stared at each other for a few seconds. Kayn lowered his eyes to the papers and finally began to read them.
"You're my new manager, then?"
"Yes, and that was a lovely business meeting." Yone sneered as he said the sentence, sitting on an armchair a couple of steps away from the bed.
"It was you fuck who came over here and ruined my blowjob."
Kayn laid back on the mattress, closing his eyes. Without spending more time getting annoyed by Kayn's spoiled ways, - of which Yone was always fully aware - the agent lost a moment analyzing how handsome Kayn was. Analyzing. The tone of his colorful hair, his straight, angled eyebrows. The inside of his left forearm was covered by a tattoo of a metal circle with a triangle in a dark background, the reproduction of a three-dimensional image. He had other smaller tattoos, his skin was sort of pale, his shoulders were strong, his chest was wide while his waist and hips were remarkably narrow. His muscles had some naturally toned design, making each of those curves of his torso and abdomen harmonious. The singer bent his legs a little, and Yone followed the tightening and relaxing of the muscles in his thighs, a movement as calm and continuous as the sliding of a wave over the beach after it crashed.
The image Yone saw was worth real good money, and Kayn didn't even seem to care.
Yone swallowed hard. Yes, he should stop looking.
"Are you going to drool more or talk about what you came here to talk at once?" Kayn cut the silence with his bitter voice as their eyes caught.
The manager snorted.
“When you and Zed returned from São Paulo on Monday, your former agent was dealing with some issues, but it's all right with the sponsorship. I want to know if you’re aware of the production dates of your new album. From November 20th, we will start the proceedings, but it will still be just red tape for us to deal with; it only actually goes to studio next year. But since you have that new single, ready to go, we want to release it soon.”
“I know. ” Kayn said, deadpan, still lying down, eyes closed once more
“I talked to one of the directors from the production company that makes your music videos. We’ll have a business lunch tomorrow. So, for you to rest from the shows, your schedule is pretty loose for the coming weeks, but we’ll be on the board with the production of a music video for this single. Next month or so, if everything goes right, you’ll be back on studio. We have something big in mind.”
“Great.” Kayn shrugged and sat up, sighing and cracking his neck. "You could put your pretty hands to use and give me a back rub."
Slowly, with all calculated movements, Yone stood up once more. As he stared at Kayn, he smirked.
“I don't think you know my role here, do you?”
“I do. Clean up my ass when I shit myself, just like Zed always did.” Kayn's mockery showed his disdain.
Yone stepped forward and his feline movements made him a predator. He put one knee on the bed beside Kayn's body, cornering him as if he might strangle him.
"No, Kayn, I'm not your mommy." Yone approached Kayn's face and his voice growled through his teeth. He pointed to the singer's chest with accusation in his tone. “I don't care about your health. I don't care about your integrity or your dignity. I'm not a fucking maid, and you better start walking the line.”
Kayn stared at him even more firmly. He raised an eyebrow, growling.
"Or what?"
Yone stepped away for a moment and reached into his blazer. He took a fancy silver pen from his inner pocket and twisted its base.
"Do you like this right here, Kayn? A lot of people in our line of work do. I myself love it sometimes. But I’ve come to know you’ve been liking it way too much lately. It may become a real issue.”
The pen opened and Yone turned it over his hand - it was the container he had used to hide it. Cocaine dripped from the metal part into Yone's flat hand, forming a tiny whitish mound the size of a coin before Kayn's astonished eyes.
“I know where you keep your stash. I know where and with whom you get this. And you won't even have half of a half of a gram of it if you don't do exactly what I tell you to.” As if it was indeed dust, Yone threw the white powder over the singer’s. “This is just one of the many leverages I have over you, all of which I have no qualms about using. Do not test me, you will not like it.” He grinned once more, bordering sadistic for a brief second. “Are we understood, Kayn?"
Chapter Text
In Kayn's mind, that guy Yone had left the room a few minutes ago. But an hour had passed, the singer was sweaty from the coke thrown on him that he managed to snort, his skin sticky with feverish heat. He was sprawled in a corner of his room. The tachycardia had just passed, and anguish seemed to compress the room around him.
The singer wiped the sweat from his forehead and dragged himself back to bed. As he laid down, he reached for the bedside table and pulled the drawer with all his strength. It fell to the floor, and its contents scattered. Among various papers, small gifts, photos, and condoms, he grabbed his cell phone. He found a number in the contacts, still feeling a bit out of breath.
It called once, and Kayn found himself swallowing hard, his tongue trying to wet his lips. As soon as it was answered, he forced his voice to speak.
"Zed?"
A moment of silence, and then the deep, smiling voice.
"Zed no longer answers to this phone, Kayn."
Kayn felt a pang in his head, and his aggressiveness from moments ago returned to boil his blood when he heard that voice he detested.
"Evelynn? Is that you, you cunt?”
“I miss you, baby boy.”
"Transfer me to Zed, you absolute fucking bitch."
"Don't like the new agent we assigned you, Shieda? Missing Zed’s warm lap?"
"I won't be blackmailed or treated like this by some bastard I barely know. I'll call K’Sante."
Evelynn’s coy voice sounded provocative.
"And what? Are you going to tell him that you're a trainwreck all fucked up and addicted to cocaine, Kayn? Are you going to tell the guy who launched you into platinum albums that you want to drag your reputation as a romantic singer and women's idol through the mud?"
Kayn hung up the phone. He didn't want to respond, didn't know how to respond, and didn't give a damn. He gritted his teeth and ran his hand over his face once more. When he looked at his fingers, there was still some white powder on them.
He threw the phone with all his strength against the opposite wall, shattering its screen completely. He ran his hand through his hair and narrowed his eyes in anger.
"SCREW ALL OF YOU!" Kayn yelled at nothing, at the broken phone on the floor. "I WANT ALL OF YOU TO GO STRAIGHT TO HELL!"
He got up and felt his head weighed heavy, deciding that he needed a joint and he would kill someone if Yone took it away from him. But yet, he wasn't that stupid to not have anything hidden in different places, but if that motherfucker had really locked his contacts for when he needs some more, he was indeed screwed.
For now, he went to drink some water and brought along some weed to smoke, so he turned on the water in his jacuzzi, sitting on its edge while rolling a blunt. He gave a weak smile to the clear, crystalline water running. He didn't need to drown his anger in cheap vodka or sweat from waiting in line in the sun. No, never again, that was no longer Shieda Kayn. He got up, lit up the joint and took a step in. He sat down in warm water and spread his arms over the edges of the tub, taking a deep hit while feeling the water embracing him.
By night time, Kayn still hadn't left the room, which smelled like weed all over after several joints.
He had turned on the TV in anything random on YouTube and he had no idea on which channel he was by then, when he was high as fuck and he didn't actually want to watch anything. He didn't want to hear his own thoughts, even though they were racing; at least with the weed they could be really fleeting. Being paranoid really wasn't hard for him while high, but it’s still better than being sober. He wasn't looking at the screen; he was staring at the ceiling. Kayn hadn't heard anything from the channel until he heard his name.
"... after the end of Kayn’s tour for the release of the album 'Blade’s Reach,' sources say the next album will be called ‘Shadow Step,' but it will only start recording in the next year."
Kayn raised his head to the TV. The buxom, green-haired YouTuber was commenting with another girl with neck tattoos on the latest in music, and their voices sounded childish. It looked like a filmed podcast.
"This long? How must we live until there?"
"Yes, but, so we don't get sad about being away from this lovely face, we can enchant ourselves with photos of Kayn shirtless in São Paulo City, which went viral."
"He's a delight, isn't he?"
"Without a doubt!"
Am I only super high or do they really speak like I’m completely retarded? Kayn was squinting his eyes at the channel as if it could help him listen better somehow. The two seemed like caricatures, and in Kayn's mind, they seemed to have come straight out of an anime, even though he had never watched one all the way through.
"But I think this cutie wasn't having his best days either and was caught mistreating many fans. You know, have you seen what they had about it in The Prophetess?”
“The channel, you say?”
“Yeah, Alune’s channel! I keep my notifications on, whenever she posts something I know there will be tea.”
“And what was it?”
In the podcast, an image of Kayn getting into a white limousine after the show in Vancouver, showing his middle finger to a small crowd of fans, while Zed held his arm and tried to get in front of everyone's line of sight, appeared.
“He was aggressive and very disrespectful. Some people say he should apologize publicly because he’s stepping over the edge, others that he’s under too much stress and it’s the whole industry’s fault. What do you think?”
Kayn turned off the TV and thought he would die of boredom.
***
K’Sante span back in his chair, hanging up the phone and sighing. His ear was buzzing, and he wondered why someone needs to talk so loud on a cell phone. He considered making a video call on Skype next time, but soon got distracted from these technicalities.
Yone was sitting on the other side of the table, smiling crookedly, waiting for K'Sante's limited time. The businessman then leaned his hands on the table, and his warm eyes always seemed too incisive. The cheekbones, a bit higher, softened his severe features with a certain sympathy, but everything about him sounded secure, austere, and yet cozy – so welcoming that it was surely a natural charm. He sighed.
"Are you here to talk about the script for the music video?" K'Sante got straight to the point.
"Senna didn't give an opinion." Yone responded just as quickly. "I noticed she didn't like the main idea." Yone replied with the same practicality. It was ten in the morning, and he had just returned from brunch with the director, Senna, from True Damage, the production company that made Kayn's music videos. "I don't know, I'm not a video producer, and I know I shouldn't meddle in this area, but I think the idea is a bit cliché."
While Yone spoke, K'Sante opened one of his drawers and took out a shallow tin with inscriptions in Spanish.
"Care for one?" K'Sante placed the open box on the table in front of Yone, and inside were five cigars.
Yone reached out to take one. K'Sante took a lighter from his jacket pocket, lit his cigar, and returned to the subject as if it had never been interrupted.
"It depends on what you see as cliché. There’s hardly much that isn't at this point, the thing is the way we tell the story.” K'Sante's voice came out softly distorted as he spoke with the cigar between his lips. He reached out to light Yone's. "Love has been cliché since Tristan and Isolde, since Romeo and Juliet. And, since always, love sells. All you need is a makeover."
"I think it will be beautiful, but it’s a risky move trying to sell a romantic man through someone like Kayn." Yone blew smoke slowly through his lips, and his gaze was disdainful.
"You're too bitter for my taste." K'Sante took a puff of his cigar and looked at him with narrowed eyes. "This last album has good lyrics, and his original rock setting gave way to pop. The typical heavy keyboard, romantic guitar, and melancholic drums. And that's how it sold twice as much as the previous record, went platinum, bursted with videos in every app that matter and put Kayn’s face everywhere. Do you see any problem with that?"
"The problem is that the same success that the album gave Kayn turned him into a megalomaniac. Kayn is not a prince charming; he has become unbearable. For now, we are managing to hide it from the media, but I don't know how long it will last. Either we sell a more aggressive image, or he will fall into contradiction and cause anger among fans."
K'Sante leaned back in his chair. He didn't mind the silence, just contemplated the smoke he blew out of his mouth.
"But isn't that why you were hired, Yone? To fix Kayn's image?"
"I can do whatever I want, I can cover up and erase whatever is in front of me, I can tell him every word he should say, but I can't take the lead in TV shows, events and interviews. If he is put on the spot, he gets aggressive and embarrasses himself. And those journalists' rats have already realized that."
Contrary to what seemed to be his reaction, K'Sante smiled. He stood up slowly, and with the calm steps, he walked around the table.
"It seems like the first day with our rockstar wasn't easy," K’Sante leaned on the table behind himself, before Yone, and picked up his ashtray. He left his cigar on the marble, flattening his hands on the table behind himself.
Yone, still sitting, looked up at K'Sante, with his usual confident expression.
"I've noticed that Kayn is really difficult to deal with. But I'll put him on his knees, you'll see."
K'Sante leaned in a bit and held Yone's right hand. He took the cigar from between his fingers and turned back to the table, leaving it in the same ashtray.
"On his knees, huh?" Smiling, K'Sante's voice sounded a bit hoarse at that moment. Yone had stood up and seemed too close, with a sly smile on his face.
"Well... not literally." Yone replied with the same hoarseness, taking another step towards K'Sante, until their bodies are one against the other’s and he’s fitting one of his legs between K'Sante's.
K'Sante grabbed Yone's tie knot and loosened it, feeling in response the slender hands of the other’s slide towards his crotch.
"It better not be."
***
"Kayn, what's going on with you?" The bassist leaned his bass guitar on the floor and gave him a slightly tense look. He tried to seem cordial, but the bassist's patience was running out.
Kayn had not cared to remember the name of any person in that room, even though they toured together. He called them Bassist, Keyboard Girl and Drums Dude.
The sound was out of tune, and still resonated in the walls of Kayn's private studio. They were just rehearsing; the acoustics were perfect there. It was the fifth time they had missed the tones. It was indeed a new song, never released, but it shouldn't be that difficult.
"With me?" Kayn leaned on the microphone stand, his forearm on the guitar body. "It's you guys who can't hit a damn chord, and there's something wrong with me?"
"Kayn, we just came back from tour a week ago. We listened and played the last album at least fifty times in a month. We are exhausted; there wasn't time to rehearse this single." From the drums, the Drummer Dude sighed, the drumsticks hanging despondent between his fingers.
"Our schedule said our next activity would be to shoot the music video," Keyboard Girl tried to mediate the discussion.
"No, you guys won't even show up for that, forget it," Kayn sneered.
"Then why did you call us here?" The Bassist never directly challenged him, but couldn't contain his irritation. "Why aren't we following Zed's schedule, which even Yone confirmed?"
Kayn had a spasm when he heard the name. The damn Yone in one day replaced Zed, and there was still time to stop by his house to blackmail him.
"I didn't think you guys would be this lazy. I was on the tour too, and I'm not making mistakes like this."
Condescending silence followed. Kayn looked at each of them, dumbfounded. Keyboard Girl ran her hand through her hair. Drums Dude had his head leaning against the white acoustically isolated wall behind him, and the Bassist’s fingers just stroked the bass's nut.
"You're going to tell me now that it's my fault?" Kayn raised his voice.
"You're all out of sync."
When a fourth voice reverberated in the room, all eyes turned to the door. Yone entered, leaving a briefcase on a bench beside him. He had sunglasses on top of his head and his long hair now in a ponytail, wearing a shirt with thin stripes, a slightly loose tie, and black pants.
Kayn snorted and rolled his eyes at the dramatic entrance. This fucker thought he was so cool.
"What are you doing here?"
"I heard you were going to rehearse and wanted to come along. I've been in the waiting room for a few minutes, on the computer."
"How did you 'hear'?" Kayn continued to glare at him.
"Kayn, that's my job. Hearing." Yone was in the middle of the studio, among all the band members. "First, you're in different time signatures."
"I said you were out of rhythm." The singer sighed and leaned over to grab his water bottle. When he stood up, Yone's smile seemed disdainful and impassive.
“The first two pitches from the chorus are held for a duration of a dotted quarter each while the last two pitches are played for a duration of a quarter note each, going for represents the quintuple time of 5/4. You are in different tempos, even if only in the four first notes, which makes it difficult to pick up the pace afterwards. Since it’s asymmetrical, I would assume you all just aren't used to it. But before we go through this, there’s something more concerning. Please, Kayn... turn up the volume of your amplifier for us and strum some chords."
Kayn was still swallowing his water as they all stared at him. He placed the plastic bottle on the floor again and, with a furrowed brow, obeyed Yone.
The notes rang out loud, and Kayn's eyes widened immediately. To everyone's ears, something extremely obvious dissipated through the air.
"Was your guitar... out of tune?" The Bassist’s eyes were static.
They all looked at each other, almost stunned. The strings were ridiculously out of tune, and it was terrible that they hadn't noticed.
"What are you talking about? You didn't notice either!" Kayn began to raise his voice, feeling a heat flush his face.
Yone remained stern.
"Guys, you're dismissed. I don't want to see mistakes like this when we're in our normal schedule, or I'll have to take drastic measures. Rest, because I want you flawless. And more: you all answer to me, not Kayn."
"And are you a musician now?" Kayn leaned both arms on the guitar he had slung over his shoulder.
"We're going to have this conversation later." Yone lowered his voice to Kayn and continued to smile as the three band members left.
Kayn took off the guitar and leaned it against the stand carelessly. He took a deep breath and kept his voice calm.
The Drums Dude was the last to leave and closed the door. In the next instant, Kayn turned Yone so that he looked him directly in the eyes.
"Now you're going to start interfering in everything I do?"
"I'm going to interfere every time you hinder me or don't act exactly as our schedule dictates."
"Why don't you stick that schedule up your ass?"
Yone took a step forward and clenched his teeth.
"Because I need to control you, since you're so clueless that you can't even realize your guitar was out of tune in a rehearsal!"
Kayn's anger spread through his muscles, and he clenched his fists tightly.
"Are you a fucking musician now?", he asked again.
"If you had read anything from the resume I gave you, Kayn, you would have seen that, besides majoring in Human Resources at YALE, I also have a Bachelor's degree in Music from goddamn Juilliard. So the answer is: yes, I am a musician, and a thousand times better than you could ever dream to be."
Kayn felt that blow in his stomach, and his expression contorted.
"Oh, better than me?" The singer crossed his arms.
"Definitely better than you." Yone laughed in disdain, as if it wasn't even worth discussing, as if there were no parameters to compare. He gave his back.
Kayn's voice was extremely clear in the studio's privileged acoustics. It had tuned slightly, as a provocation, as if it could start growling at any moment. He took hard steps towards his agent.
"What do you play, o, gifted child?"
"Professionally, piano and harpsichord." Yone heard Kayn's irritated voice behind him. He opened his briefcase to search for his phone. "But I can play at least a dozen other instruments, like the guitar in a way you only wish you were able to."
"At Juilliard, they teach dance, music, acting, I know... but by any chance do they teach you personal defense?"
When Yone turned his head to face Kayn again, still not understanding the question, he received a punch in the face. The dark sunglasses on top of his head flew away, and he almost lost his balance.
"Look how funny, because in Detroit, I was taught!" The singer's voice was insane with anger.
Still dizzy, seeing dark and looking for a place to lean over, Yone tried to absorb what was happening. A deep pain was throbbing across his face, and his vision had darkened. Kayn had punched him in the face. It was hard to believe, but he had.
"You think you're better than me, Yone, but I'm the one who's going to make you wish you were never born. And you know what? Keep your damn cocaine. If you don't bring Zed back, I'll raise a much worse hell than any withdrawal of mine. Get ready. You still haven't met your demons before you met me."
Kayn turned his back, slammed the door, and locked his manager inside. He turned off the computers that were capturing the music from inside the studio, and Yone's protests and calls for him to open the door and let him out were a weak and useless sound, muffled by the acoustically isolated walls.
As soon as he realized that Kayn would indeed leave him there, Yone went back to his briefcase, looking for his phone to call someone who could help him. His face throbbed with pain, and he felt his blood boiling.
He hated Kayn with every single fiber of his being.
Chapter Text
Deep through the a.m. on a Saturday, and Yone still hasn't slept. He was used to about four hours a day, but this time, he just hadn't closed his eyes for more than a few minutes and he knew he would have to resort to his pills. Friday rewinded again and again inside his head like a stressful nightmare.
The housekeeper had answered the landline, and a security guard was sent to unlock him from the studio. He didn't need to explain anything that had happened; they had learned never to ask. The guard simply offered to get some ice for his face. Yone spent the rest of the day seething with anger at Kayn, something few people could make him feel.
But there was something else that bothered him even more. Yone looked up at the ceiling, and for some reason, Kayn’s new single, “Prodigal Explorer”, wouldn't leave his head.
First, because Akali had told him that it was about someone in the search for something unknown even to themselves. And if he thinks it through, it looks like all that’s left from the original idea was a carcass.
He wants Kayn dead for all he cares, if he weren't his rocket to the stars once and for all. So, he had to stabilize him, if only for some time until he’s good to go, until he’s leeched enough from him to leave him to his own fate. So, he had to understand what was going on at a very particular level. He had to understand Kayn and he had very little time to do so before he loses all leverage.
That was absolutely unprecedented to Yone. He could know how to deal with any kind of threat and he had every weapon ready to be sheathed against any type of blackmail. But, instead, Kayn fucking punched him in the face. Like a teenager in a school fight or a slumdog fighting for crack.
Kayn wasn't only an insufferable diva in crisis; he was a menace. He was actually, truly dangerous and a time bomb filled with nitroglycerin: he either will destroy himself in some time very soon or he will do so in being stirred the wrong way.
Yone had to admit, to himself only, that he had been too arrogant, but it was too late to back out now. All of his weapons brought him here, and if they don't work anymore, he’ll sharpen other blades. He just won't lose now, and if he calls it a bluff, he’ll bet everything until he’s all in.
So, he couldn't help but think about that afternoon, even before the punch. The first and most obvious thing here that he can understand is the artistic neutering.
Kayn can compose. He’s no different than any other regular composer, and he’s your everyday lyricist, but he patches it together with his own intensity. It’s what makes him unique, he’s visceral. Maybe he wanted to be on top so hard that he could sacrifice his vision and sell his soul and still stick enough emotion into the last things they cooked up to him, which made him properly rich and famous. It was all they said about him, that he was the first one to accept anything thrown at him, that he could bring soul to whatever it is that the board wants, and this made him the perfect soldier, the perfect weapon. He could be used to every single thing, in every single way.
Or so it seemed, until it obviously backfired the worst way possible and their prodigy suddenly turned into their worst enemy, ready to jeopardize everything that’s been done to and for him.
What can be noticed about the single is that Kayn tried to do something only to be butchered by dozens of composers and lyricists. Even more so now, having heard its first notes sung by Kayn. And he was forcing his band to memorize it even before they started recording and he seemed to be completely lost in it, not able to even recognize an out of tune guitar.
Why had Kayn chosen that time signature? Pop rock and rock use a 3/4 meter, maybe 4/4, and that's what the whole band was used to. But Kayn had been insisting on something asymmetrical, in a couple of notes even similar to the compound meter of progressive rock. And, even though he had tried to bring him down, Yone knew he was no amateur, so there was no reason for that to be only a mistake.
At four in the morning, Yone gave up tossing and turning because it looked like the meds weren't going to work anyway in bed and got up. He crossed the house barefoot, a bulbous glass of cognac in his hand. He took a big sip. He sighed and glanced at the wooden tone of the liquid. That wasn't a drink for Los Angeles.
Yone remembered the comment K'Sante had made on the day he first visited his house. In the living room, right after commenting on the beauty of the grand piano he had received as a gift from his father, he remained silent, staring at the book and film shelf, and the bar next to it with bottles of rum and cognac. What he concluded, with that calm and almost intuitive sigh of his, was that Yone really wasn't a man from California.
It might seem obvious. He was from Kyoto, from a rich, honorable and traditional family. He knew every single etiquette rule, trained by his environment to act correctly in the eyes of everyone, to be reserved, and to avoid frivolity. It wasn't the first time he had heard this. Everyone who saw him in the midst of pop music, dealing with the most frivolous celebrities, had the impression that Yone didn't belong to any of that. But the truth was that in a single day, Yone thought about retiring as many times as he thought he wouldn't trade that job for anything, that he wouldn't trade that life for anything.
And that was why having sex with K'Sante that night had been extremely pleasurable, and why it still was. They said sex was better when it meant something; well, for him, it meant power – and power was something incredibly arousing for him. He liked to see the city of angels unravel before his eyes, and liked to belong to the untouchable. He knew better than anyone that there are no idols, and he had learned to see all kinds of devotion as foolishness.
He only turned on a few lights in the living room, the scattered lamps, and remained in the semi-darkness. He finished his glass more quickly than he should have. He ran his hand over his face and felt it hurt under his skin, against his bones. He must have a bruise, but he wouldn't look. He didn't want to face that problem to be solved at that moment. He placed the glass on the coffee table and sat down at the piano. He opened it. He stared at the keys, and some sheet music ran through his mind before any melody was played.
That's why he had chosen a house instead of an apartment. Because it was four-thirty in the morning, and the notes of Nocturne number nine by Chopin filled the rooms, with a reverberating intensity that spun around Yone and inside him. In fact, he felt dizzy. Sleepiness, cognac, and classical music. And without the warm glow of the Pacific, it all reminded him of home.
His hands, always quick and skilled, played the keys, and he closed his eyes. Every time he did it to the sound of a piano, it seemed he could hear the living room of his house, the echo of his father's gruff voice.
He pressed all the keys all together, in a dissonant and abrupt sound. He opened his eyes and stood up almost militarily.
Reminding him of home was everything he didn't want. He walked outside, to the balcony, where the Pacific Ocean could be seen beyond him and through the glass that made up the whole railing. He could feel the wet heat embrace him, making him forget classical music and air conditioning as he closed the door behind himself. He could throw himself in one of his loungers and feel the waves lulling him until, unbeknownst to himself even, he is asleep.
When he woke up, he was sweaty, and his head hurt. Those sleep dysfunctions would still lead him to the hospital. How could he have slept so much? The sun was high on the sky by then. He got up dizzy and even sleepier.
He quickly ran inside, took off his sweaty pajamas and picked up his cell phone and laptop from beside the bed. It was noon, and he had the impression that by now Kayn had set fire to his own reputation. His phone had given up on the alarm by then and there were several messages and a half a dozen calls from his secretary.
Leaving those aside for now, he called Kayn directly, even though he knew he wouldn't answer. While calling the house staff and his secretary, he was walking around to make himself some cold brew for lunch.
It seemed like at least Kayn hadn't spat in anyone's face that day. He sighed realizing how anxious he was, and something must have gone wrong, just because it had to. Yone had good instincts, but at the moment, it sounded only like paranoia to him. He would check it out later that afternoon.
He had convinced himself that nothing was too paranoid when it came to Kayn
And that was exactly when the housekeeper called him to talk about Sarah Fortune and the trucks delivering dozens of bottles of whiskey in front of Kayn’s mansion.
***
Yone almost ran into the house, and with each step, his head hurt. The sound system even had the right acoustics in the middle of the living room. The sofas, worth who knows how many thousands of dollars, had been moved aside and gave way to tables and last-minute feather puffs, positioned near the large aquarium.
Yone had seen that redhead in a red dress somewhere before. She was a promoter, the best one he knew of. And, apparently, so did Kayn.
"Fortune. Miss Fortune!" Yone remembered the name. He always remembered the names. He crossed the living room as quickly as he could without seeming eager.
"Hello, Yone." She turned to him, regaining the composure that some employees had caused her to lose. She greeted him with a soft kiss on the cheek. "What brings you here? Which business do you have here this time?"
"Long story. Let's summarize and say I'm Kayn’s new agent."
She lifted one brow.
"What happened to Zed?"
"He retired. As far as I know, he's all across the country with his family. Evelynn recommended me.” Yone restrained all his impetuosity and put his hands in his pockets patiently, even though he was in a hurry. It didn't go unnoticed by Sarah.
"Did something happen? You seem anxious."
Yone made sure to be even more cordial, because he knew his words would be somewhat accusatory.
"I think you know you shouldn't throw parties for Kayn without talking to the agent first."
Sarah thought about responding, but first she laughed.
"He didn't tell you anything, did he?" She laughed again, incredulously. "Oh, Kayn is a menace."
Yone smiled friendly, while inside he thought Kayn was actually worthy of being stabbed.
"No, I didn't hear anything. And now I'll have to deal with the consequences."
"I'm sorry, Yone." Sarah shrugged. "Kayn called me to organize a party in one afternoon. I can do it, and he can pay the price for it. I do my job, you do yours. It’s not that big of a deal after all.”
"And who would be the type of guest at such a last-minute party?"
"The usual friends..." Sarah forced the word 'friends' with a peculiar tone. "And you know that shooting stars would get out of bed at two in the morning on a Tuesday for a chance to go to a party with Kayn."
"We'll have distinguished guests, then." Yone smiled bitterly with sarcasm.
"Kayn just wants to have fun, and I know just the right troublemakers" Sarah ran her hand over Yone's arm without much attachment. "Now, if you'll excuse me, unless you want to cancel everything and make a mess, I have a party to organize."
Still dazed, in front of the kitchen, Yone heard two movers behind him asking for permission to pass. Sarah disappeared from Yone's field of vision, and, running his hands through his hair, the manager stared at the crates of 40-year-old whiskey they were carrying.
A party? Out of nowhere? What was Kayn thinking?
Yone huffed and crossed the room, looking at his wristwatch.
Who am I trying to fool? He's never thinking.
He had things to take care of.
Without stopping, he opened his briefcase and took out his phone. He climbed the stairs in search of Kayn while calling his private emergency number: Samira.
He put the phone to his ear and finished climbing a flight of stairs. He looked back down to the ground floor, through the railing. Hearing the ringing of the call, he made calculations mentally while measuring the rush downstairs.
"Hello, Yone." On the other end of the line, Samira answered.
"Are you in LA? If so, are you busy?" Yone turned and began climbing some more stairs. He thought he should have taken the glass elevator, but he felt he would always forget about it.
"Yes, and I'm a little busy. But your suggestions are always more fun, so go ahead, please."
"I need you to take some photos of Kayn’s party today."
"I didn't know about any party." Samira cleared her throat.
Great, great. If even Samira didn't know, that meant they still had plenty of time. Yone hadn't told her he was Kayn's new agent; it had only been a few days, less than a week, but she didn't show any surprise at the news or the instruction she had received. Few people were as well-informed in the city as that photographer — and that ability, in Los Angeles, was a talent worth its weight in gold.
"Kayn is... extravagant." Yone entered the anteroom of the singer's room without knocking on the door.
"It was last-minute, wasn't it?" Emmanuelle's voice seemed to smile.
"It was literally last minute."
"Just give me the real reason you want me there, and I'll be at the mansion in fifteen minutes."
"I want you to photograph the worst of each of the guests at this party, to have a weapon so no one dares gossip about what happens in here. And a few friendly images to casually throw on the internet. It’s just a party, but I’m in no position for any liabilities. We’ll keep everyone's phone by the door but I'm sure you can take pictures of it all discreetly anyway.”
With the phone to his ear, Yone went to Kayn's quarters. He opened the door to the bedroom, and no one was there. He heard voices in the closet.
"You know how much I charge for this kind of thing, don't you?" Samira added, still on the line.
"Just come." Yone hung up before opening the closet door.
He was still putting the phone in his pocket when he saw Kayn staring at himself in the huge mirror, under abundant light. On the floor beside him, piles of clean clothes that had been tried on and discarded, many of which had never been worn.
Kayn had probably had his hair dyed again this morning, as it was bright purple and pink. He wore jeans and black sneakers, a sleeveless red silk shirt open all the way to his navel and black tight gloves.
The singer turned to the door and, seeing Yone, narrowed his eyes.
"At Juilliard, didn't they teach you how to knock, too, I guess?” He turned away and was back to looking into the mirror, while putting on a choker around his neck.
"We need to talk about your little party, Kayn, now.”
"No, you need to talk, I need to ignore you and choose my outfit for later. I was bored as fuck today and on the third joint it sounded like an excellent idea.”
Yone walked towards Kayn just so that he stays in between him and the mirror.
"I’ll let it slide that you are throwing a party for free, with dozens of crates of two-thousand-dollar whiskey each for your random guests. You can have fun if you wish, and it’s bad to let it show, but nowadays nobody truly cares enough about flexing money to make it a problem. But I don't know what the fuck you are up to.”
"You have the skin of a model." Looking at his face, Kayn grinned crookedly, seemingly not caring. "Did you put on tattoo makeup to hide the bruise I left on your face?"
Yone opened his mouth to respond, and realized his voice wanted to erupt from his throat like a roar. He restrained it, and sighed.
"You know that if you keep doing this just to get me fired, you'll take your image and fame down the drain with it, don't you?"
"I just want to do enough so that K'Sante sees this didn't happen with Zed."
"I have proof that you were already snorting coke when Zed was your agent. If I want, Kayn, I can still incriminate Zed for drugging you and take him to jail, what do you think of that?"
"I don't care about Zed. I just don't want you here, thinking you can boss me around."
"And what if K'Sante finds out you're in this deep in coke and everything else?"
"I'm not going to snort anything, I don't need to. You don't have me in a chokehold as you think you do.” Kayn stood up and raised his face to look Yone directly in the eyes.
"You keep playing, Kayn. There is no such thing as eternal fame anymore, these times are gone. Don't waste yours away while you have it, we can all earn so much money yet. You think you're irreplaceable, but there are a thousand of you on every corner, just waiting for the chance you had."
"No, Yone." Kayn grinned, and it felt somber for a moment. "Not a fraction of them are as smart as I were or are willing to do what I did to get here. You think you know about me, but maybe it would be a good idea to have a chat with Zed before kicking him out as you think you can."
Kayn gave his back and went back into the closet. Yone looked at his wristwatch again and concluded that it was no use confronting him, and that he should just find a way for that party to go as smoothly as possible.
Chapter Text
Amidst the bustling crowd, Yone felt a hand on his chest and was approached by Samira, much to his surprise. That woman got in the party, vanished in thin air and only now, two hours later, he had seen her again. She strides under the party lights with an air of confidence, yet blends so well with the surroundings that even a wonderful woman like that won’t caught attention for more than enough to check her out. Wearing a vest, tight pants and heels, Once she took him to a more private location, she fished her phone from her pocket and casually turned the screen towards the manager. Her words were interrupted by the music, and it took Yone some effort to understand her.
"Is it kind of what you want?"
She scrolled through the photos quickly, and Yone liked what he saw. If someone were to describe what they saw, it would be something like that “that ten-million-subscribers YouTuber” dancing with "that guy that died in that TV series" after taking shots with "the lead singer of the band that opened for that big band”. The result on the screen showed both sparkling toasts and the guests downing giant shots of tequila. The clicks captured some people greeting the waiter, but then sensually dancing with him. A picture of Kayn sitting chatting with everyone on equal terms, a huge smile on his face; immediately followed by a photo of the hands of someone in Kayn’s lap.
It was clearly more than she could have taken from her phone only, so it made him wonder for a moment where in her outfit there could be a hidden camera. It wouldn’t be too absurd to bet that there was a camera under her eye patch, even though it’s even funny to imagine she could have gone this far.
Yet, not his problem. He’s got enough of his own already.
"Yes, these are great. Go on."
“On my way, boss.” She said before giving a smirk and then her back to diffuse herself into that party.
As far as possible, everything was under control. He was able to do whatever was needed to control the output of information, restricting specific access for whatever could bring him trouble. So, the first couple of hours is only for them to wait until everyone is properly drunk, even though the competent DJ was already bringing everyone to the dancefloor. If anyone could describe what they were seeing, it would be that and second-rate celebrities, last-minute guests, enjoyed themselves and lost a bit of control.
It was still in a point in th first couple of hours that Yone was accosted by Kayn all of a sudden. He stepped from undivided attention of the crowd to stand right in front of his notorious new manager, staring into mauve green eyes.
“Hi, narc. Having fun ruining everyone else’s?”
Kayn’s breath was already smelling enough of whisky and it was really close to his face now, an intimidating look in his eyes.
“Sorry?” Yone lifted a brow.
“Don’t play coy with me. You kept anyone from bringing anything actually fun to the party. ”
Yone grinned as he got it. Yes, not only the guests couldn’t bring their phones, but they didn’t allow any drugs as well. What use would be his blackmail if anyone else could give Kayn what he wanted?
“Of course I did. Do you think I’m stupid?”
“Now everyone is going to think I’m a fucking straightlace buzzkill. Great. You fucker is going to make me go through an entire party without rolling. Good luck with me blacking out drunk.” He said as he gave his back, and, yeah, Yone was ready for that if needed, even the glucose in hand. He isn’t stupid, even though more than once Yone admitted he had taken way to rash decisions when it came to Kayn.
And, again, too late to back out now.
Unable to do much else but to keep on the watch, Yone would wait as inhibitions melted away, and the party reached new heights of wild pretended abandon. In a certain point confetti rained down from the ceiling, mingling with bursts of flashing lights. It was so sick to listen to laughter and shouts of joy filling the air, a symphony of jubilant chaos, because he just wanted to be either sitting in one of the couches doing several lines himself or at home completely alone, far away from that stupid mess. What Yone could notice from the one was that Kayn danced and walked around, but with people that came to him he mostly didn't say anything beyond what was strictly necessary. He wasn't making anyone uncomfortable, but nor was he properly socializing; if it weren't for his loose gaze, he might even seem sober.
It was three in the morning, and none of the guests seemed willing to leave. Kayn had managed to set the party on fire. Yone wasn't distracted, he kept everything under control; but the party was taking the best possible course on its own. He turned his back and saw some of Kayn's extravagances, like climbing on the table and singing or drinking whiskey straight from the bottle; but he couldn't care less about them. After hearing a comment like "...the fish in that aquarium must be really stressed out with the loud music," he concluded that if it really was someone's wish – guest or not – to speak ill of that party, they would. Yone always knew that, he just couldn't give them way more material to do so.
At four in the morning, Yone sat down for the first time. He threw his body on one of the new poufs and sank into it. The music was still loud, few had left. He saw Samira with a cigarette in her hand pointing her phone at him. He wanted to show his finger to the camera, but he would never do that. He just tried to build in his mind the image that the machine had captured: a man in a rumpled suit, with deep circles under his eyes, with a facial foundation that had already melted in his face and was beginning to reveal the bruise that Kayn had stamped on his face. The flashing lights, the subtle smoke, the blue glow of the aquarium. He formed the whole image on his face and thought he should put it in black and white and hang it like a conceptual photo in his mind. Maybe he would call that painting “Complicated Choices”.
Twenty minutes after sitting down, Yone no longer saw Kayn. His feet throbbed, and he didn't even want to think about getting up, but he needed to find the singer. He leaned on his legs as if he were stepping on nails and started walking.
That house was huge and beautiful. He wanted to stop to observe one of the corridors painted as abstract art, with primacy, but he didn't have time for that. He spent another ten minutes wandering around the house while listening to the loud music buzzing in his ears.
He opened one of the rooms. It was a library, and Yone thought about closing the door again. He turned on one of the lights, and amid the yellowish tone that invaded the room, he saw a figure with his body thrown in a divan.
"Hey, Kayn?" Yone leaned slightly to the side and took a few steps forward.
Kayn rose to his knees and leaned on the brown divan. Yone closed the door behind himself and his expression twisted as he saw the sweaty face and glassy eyes of the singer.
"Are you okay?" Yone crossed the room with a furrowed brow.
"Yone, I..." Kayn got up, stumbled a bit and once more sat down again. He ran his hand over his face and looked pale.
He sat down beside Kayn and held the singer’s shoulder. He tried to look into his eyes, but those wide eyes wouldn't fix anywhere.
"Hey, hey. You drank way too much. I’ll help you get to your room.”
"No, I didn't." Before he could get up, Kayn grabbed Yone's arm, and he was startled to see how cold his hands were. The singer licked his lips, and Yone widened his eyes . "Come on… give it to me."
"What are you talking about?"
Kayn returned a desolate look. His eyebrows always forcefully outlined any expression he made.
"Come on, Yone. What do you want? I’ll give it to you..."
Yone pretended not to hear and stood up, trying to pull him up to his feet.
"Kayn, come on, you've drunk too much. Let’s see if you need some glicose."
Instead of getting up, Kayn pulled Yone back onto the sofa. Kayn was strong, and Yone had no option besides once more sitting down beside him. Immediately supported one knee beside him. He straddled him immediately and sat on his lap.
"You know what I'm talking about." Kayn pressed his mouth to Yone's ear. "Come on. I’ll be a good boy."
Kayn's guttural voice was almost a moan, and it made Yone’s mind foggy for a moment, shivers running through his entire body, almost hurting his skin. He took a very deep breath and pushed Kayn away from him. The singer staggered and fell back to the couch beside him.
"Get away from me, Kayn," Yet, Kayn kneeled in front of Yone, in between his legs. He held onto his legs tightly and prevented him from leaving. Pushing his knees apart, he positioned himself better and ran his hands all over his belly.
"I give up. See? I give up, I'm all yours, you win. I promise I'll obey you properly, okay? Just help me out as well.”
"All you want is a hit?”
“U-hum.” Kayn confirmed and nodded as his hands slid over Yone's pants' zipper in response. Yone held his wrist to stop him from continuing.
"You don't know how pathetic you are, Kayn."
Kayn laughed loud, stopped what he was doing and looked up at Yone with glazed eyes.
"Oh, sorry, Mr. Morality. Are you going to tell me now that you weren’t hired for your ass-ssets ?"
"No, I wasn’t," Yone's eyes were as firm as his voice.
"So, you're the one fucking K’Sante, and not the other way around?" Despite Kayn's voice sounding forcefully astonished, his eyes were disinterested. "Wow, look at that, he wasn't like that with me."
"What the hell you mean?"
"You know damn well what I mean, Yone." Kayn grabbed Yone by the shoulders and stood up. He tried to sit back on Yone's lap. He had a simple and forcibly burlesque tone. "Fucking your way to the top is such a nice stereotype that it must be true, right?"
Yone stood up abruptly, leaving Kayn kneeling on the sofa. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed deeply.
"I'm not giving you anything. You've drunk too much, just sleep it out and tomorrow we can have an agreement.."
"Yone, come on. What else do you want? Please." Kayn stood up, and his eyes momentarily became helpless.
The manager raised his hands forward as if he wanted Kayn to wait for a moment. He took a few steps back, trying to maintain a confident and secure expression.
"I'll go downstairs, tell the DJ to play some bad music, this party will be over, and you'll go to bed, okay? You're drunk, and I'll only talk to you about this tomorrow."
As soon as Yone turned his back and started to leave, he heard a noise of something hitting a shelf across the room in his direction. He saw that a book had been thrown and had hit the other stacks, knocking everything to the floor.
Yone turned his face back to Kayn and received a blow from a book on his shoulder. The singer stood next to a bookshelf, licked his teeth, and seemed almost animalistic with that expression. He picked up another book and made a motion to throw it at Yone.
"STOP IT, FUCK!" Yone found himself roaring. Kayn threw the book at Yone, and the manager had to dodge, even if Kayn’s drunken aim was off. Blood pounded in Yone's head, and he strode back hard to where Kayn was, cornering him against the bookshelf. He grabbed his arm and took the other book from his hands.
Still not releasing the singer's body, Yone reached into his jacket pocket and grabbed the pen where he hid the drug; the look he received from Kayn was like someone who had found a light at the end of the tunnel. Yone poured everything into the palm of his hand and realized he was trembling. He pushed his hand against Kayn's face, covering his mouth and nose, and continued to hold it until he breathed in.
He felt Kayn's hands weaken and his eyes become dull. He took a step back and realized what he had done, staring at his own hands covered in cocaine and then back at Kayn wiping the white powder off his face to recover as much of it as he could.
Yone wanted to leave. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt such a strong urge to drop everything and run away. He tried to convince himself that he had done worse before – and indeed, maybe he had, but not with his own hands; that always seemed more morbid, more frightening.
He knew that in a few minutes Kayn's skin would start to burn, he would become even more excited and aggressive, and it would all last twice as long It would be a mess, and Yone didn't want to continue watching that.
But he stayed there, at most sending Samira a text to help him out and get everyone out of the house. He needed to take care of Kayn; that was his job.
***
Yone couldn't believe that Kayn had finally fallen asleep. Those hours were the duration of a psychological and almost physical torture. The room was in absolute chaos, and the manager was completely exhausted. His body ached monstrously. His arms trembled, and his eyes were heavy.
When Yone released the hug, he heard Kayn murmur weakly. He released his sweaty body and pulled his arm, leaving the singer lying on a couch.
He stood up and looked around – everything messy – and then glanced at his own torn shirt. Kayn had kicked the door repeatedly because he wanted to leave the room. He had taken off his shirt and sung unknown songs talking about paranoia and whatnot. He had opened the window and threatened to start walking on the ledge, and he punched Yone's ribs when he tried to stop him. At some point, he started breaking things against the wall.
Yone tried to talk to him, but Kayn was oblivious to everything around him. Yone held him firmly, but the singer was much stronger than him; due to those attempts to calm him down, he was hit from elbows and knuckles some times.
Yone knew he couldn't hurt Kayn, and that if he did, everything might end up even worse. The best thing he could do was to try and get him to drink some water. Kayn had turned into an animal, and Yone was genuinely afraid of him. What intrigued him the most was that he understood what the drug did, conceived the exaggerations, but still couldn't comprehend how there could be so much hatred and insanity inside a person.
After three endless hours, Kayn threw himself in a couch and the one thing that kept him from thrashing around was when he hugged him on the bed and held his warm, sweaty body against his. He immediately felt an irrational desire to grab a cushion and press it against his face, but it was just a fleeting thought. He soon realized that feeling Kayn’s muscles relax a bit between his arms was a tremendous relief. It was as if being able to feel Kayn's heart slowly calming down could put an end to the anguish he himself felt.
For a few moments, Yone had forgotten who he had against his chest, and forgot who the man he was hugging was. For a few moments, they were two men hugging, without anger, fights, pride, or resentments. There was nothing, no music, no sex, no fame, no drugs, just his sore body holding Kayn tightly.
It didn't last long. Yone stood up. He started to feel again. He started to think again. He stared at Kayn's figure lying down and remembered his dull gaze, as if he too were covered in a layer of dust.
Once again, the manager found himself wondering what song Kayn was singing. It wasn't any of his singles, no prototype for the album. It wasn't any song he knew, and if there was someone who knew music, it was Yone.
Yone turned his gaze to outside,, knowing that there was a bathroom nearby. He needed water. He wasn't going home at that point; the sofa should be quite comfortable, and Kayn had clothes he could borrow.
Once in front of the sink, Yone turned on the tap and soaked a towel with cold water, wringing it out afterward. He returned to the room and paused once again beside the bed. He pressed the cool fabric against Kayn's sweaty face and used it to wipe his face and neck. The A.C. was on, and Kayn was breathing well. It was morning already, so he better call some specialized medical attention to check if there is something that needs to be done, because by then Yone had completely lost the ability to think.
"Idiot," Yone muttered with disdain and narrowed his eyes once more. He took off Kayn's shoes for him to lay down on the couch.
He stared at Kayn sleeping as if none of it mattered, and in that state, he was so defenseless, so human, so ordinary.
Yone shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, but the events of the night replayed in his mind like a haunting rhapsody. He couldn't shake off the feeling of unease, the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. With a heavy heart, Yone knew that even though Kayn was asleep now, the storm was far from over. That day would bring new challenges, new struggles to face. But for now, all he could do was watch over Kayn, hoping that he would find peace in his dreams, if only for a moment.
Chapter Text
"Yone." A deep voice penetrated the manager’s sleep, slowly pulling him back to reality. "Yone?"
When Yone opened his eyes, he found himself struggling to know where he was. A couple of times out of surprise and anxiety he caught a deep his breath, lifting his body quickly, body aching. He rubbed his eyes and took a second to finally locate himself within every messy memory aglutinated like a disform blob in his exhausted mind.
A damn library that probably hasn’t ever been used if not by Zed to have some meetings or by Kayn only to smoke something without having to go upstairs. The couch was as comfortable as a bed, but he still woke up with a sore back. He was sore all over, and felt like absolute shit. Lifting his eyes up, he saw Kayn by the foot of the couch.
"You know there are five guest rooms here, right?" Kayn then said. Yone tried to sit up, under the other’s indifferent gaze. The sleepiness he felt was dire.
"I wanted to be around if something happened to you." Managing to sit up, he ran his hands over his face again, and then through his hair to try to tidy it up, as it must be a mess.
"Sleeping like a log the way you were, an ambulance could have burst through that door and you wouldn't have flinched."
"I woke up, didn't I?"
"Good, I was starting to think you were the one who overdosed and fell in a coma." Kayn turned away and Yone struggled to get up and follow him.
The singer flopped back onto the first couch he saw and hugged a cushion. He curled up like a child and buried his face it. Yone looked around - all the destruction, all the broken frames and decoration fallen on the floor; and the singer ust lying there again without looking at any of what he had done, still in the clothes from the day before - still smelling of decay.
"Kayn, how are you feeling?"
Silence. The singer didn't seem like he was going to answer. Yone sat down next to him on the couch.
"You know, Kayn, I was really scared of you yesterday."
More silence. Yone looked at him and the singer didn't even move. He insisted
"Why do you do this?"
"Are you really gonna do this?" Kayn lifted his face from the cushion, eyes daggers to him. "Are you really going to start the psychological analysis of the troubled celebrity? Enounciating my name with every sentence, like I’m a fucking child that needs to pay attention to mommy?”
"I just want to know."
"You know damn well why, Yone ." Kayn sneered and shot him a hostile look. "I think that's what I hate about you so much. You're a hypocrite. You're just another hypocrite."
"Kayn, you've known me for a week. You didn't give me any chance to show otherwise."
That made Kayn laugh out loud, and he sat down to stare directly at Yone.
"Me? Me? I, you’re telling that I didn’t give-? Now you’re just fucking with me, come on!” He laughed some more. “You’re worse than I thought, now you’re gonna try to gaslight me as if it weren’t you who threatened me, blackmailed me, and scorned me from the moment you walked through my door. It was you who didn't give me a chance to show otherwise, fuck off,” he scoffed, laughing even more, still of indignation. “man, what a psychopath you are.”
"So, are you going to tell me there's really something more than a megalomaniac superstar here with me in this room?"
Kayn continued to stare at him.
“You know who is with you in this room? A dehydrated dude completely depleted of serotonin or whatever happiness hormones I still happen to have left, so I’m done with fighting or even speaking to you. I need painkillers, an isotonic, some weed and a blowjob. You’re still owing me one.”
If Yone had any humor left and his head didn’t feel like a bowl full of a thick liquid, he would probably have laughed.
“I’ll pass.”
“You know, that thing I told you last night, about you doing whatever you want with me... it's not that bad."
Inevitably, a single moment from the previous night flashed in Yone's mind. Kayn on his lap, his guttural voice in his ear. It was hard to deny how great his whole presence was. Kayn was gigantic, even if shorter than him. Yet, once more, all Yone wanted to do was sleep..
"Now you're just deflecting."
"If you're faithful to K'Sante, let me tell you, I bet my lovely ass he's not to you." Without getting too close, Kayn reached out and laid his hand on Yone's thigh. "And I'm not even talking about the blonde he has as a facade wife."
"I work for you, Kayn." Yone grabbed Kayn's wrist tightly and didn't let him move his hand any further up.
"And you work for K'Sante too, duh."
None of them really wanted anything like that, yet neither knew what they actually wanted at all from there. They were both exhausted, and staring at Kayn’s eyes for those seconds made Yone get lost. He had pretty, intense, sharp green eyes, beautiful even if his injury made them sort of heterochromatic. The whole scene made the singer laugh in contempt and he got up with a smug smile. Yone realized, he had achieved what he wanted. He had changed the subject, for those moments he had distracted Yone from his responsibilities, from the questions, from what he needed to do.
He cursed himself for allowing himself to think, to even consider or listen to anything he said. He had to remember that he despised him, but why was it again? Kayn was a problem, Kayn he was unbearable, Kayn was on the brink of a disaster. He just had to look around to feel the decay take over his body with all hues of anguish once more. He was very, very tired, his body ached and he felt nauseous. He needed some cold brew, a wrap and two Venvanse to get everything back in place before Monday comes.
Kayn sauntered across the room, and Yone looked at the singer's feet.
"Are you going to walk barefoot on this floor full of shards?"
"Don't worry, mommy, I'm not afraid of getting hurt."
"How long has it been since you last talked to her?"
Kayn halted near the door as if struck. He didn't move and didn't turn around, just clenched his fists tightly. Yone swallowed hard and listened to Kayn's hoarse and raspy voice.
"What did you say?"
Yone might have said it didn't matter, that he should just go take a shower, but he couldn't miss that opportunity, even though he knew it was a dangerous move.
"Your mother is alive and living in Detroit. How long has it been since you visited her?"
"THAT'S NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS!" Kayn turned to Yone and yelled very loudly, with the power of his singer's voice. His eyes were flames, shining with anger and resentment.
"Of course it's my business!" Yone stood up and didn't let himself be intimidated, even if he truly felt afraid of the fact that Kayn might try to attack him again. "I'm your manager, Kayn, and you're clearly troubled. I want to help you, but you need to stop clashing with me and trust me!"
"Fuck off! You've been with me for days, Yone, you asshole!" Kayn still had a very loud tone of voice. "Only for about a week and I already hate you with all I’ve got. I don't trust you, I never will, and I’ll drag you to hell with me!"
"Okay, you know what? Fine! You’re right!” Yone held out his hands in surrender. It couldn’t be like that, he had to try something else. Kayn is way more than he can fight against, he had to approach him differently. If he wants to keep on pushing him, he will, but "You don't have to tell me anything. You don't have to say anything. We started off on the wrong foot, but I’ve never thought you’d want to break me so bad that you would take yourself along. We have to step back, nothing remotely good can come out of this. I can still push you way farther just like I’ve told you, but if you end up flipping out none of us will get anything out of this! I won't underestimate you anymore and we'll both work on your music and your name, I’ll help you out and we’ll sort out this cocaine business. What do you think of this deal?"
"You know what I think?" Stepping closer, Kayn pointed at Yone with fury and accusation. "I think suck my dick, or go to hell. What do you think of this deal?"
"You have everything to stay on top for much longer. Please don't let your anger towards me and your recklessness ruin everything you've built. Please."
Kayn felt a desire to punch Yone again rising within him, but he remembered very well what he had done.
Last night was way too much, and every time he gets out of control like this, he feels just a bit more out of place as he comes back. He knew there was a line, and he was about to cross it forever into the dangerous side, to never recognizing himself again, and when he allows reality to finally set in, Kayn knew that there was nothing left for him but guilt and regret. He had never assaulted someone in that manner, so gratuitously; yet, Yone had embraced him to calm him down to help him sleep. Yes, he was only doing it for the money, but who isn’t, after all? Maybe the money is enough to have someone who could help him the slightest.
It’s not like he has anyone else left, after all.
"You Japanese people say please too much."
Yone smiled weakly and lowered his gaze. Suddenly, the smile vanished from his face, seeing that maybe Kayn had stepped in some shard or glass from a picture frame.
"Your feet are bleeding."
"Fuck it." Kayn gave his back and opened the door to leave the library, not seeming to feel any pain as he stepped out. "Get out of my house and leave me rest a bit."
The singer slammed the door shut. Yone frowned and got up, putting on his shoes and retrieving his phone to find out what he might have lost as his shoes stepped on shards and pieces of whatever was scattered on the floor. He could see that there was a sumptuous desk in one of the sides of the room, which once again he wondered whether Zed could have used. Could he, maybe, also have a space to work there in Kayn’s house, if he could forget what happened in that place?
He walked to the desk and he opened a drawer. He took out many scattered papers and a blue notebook. He left them on the wooden top. Besides them nothing of interest but a bunch of office supplies and random papers with nothing interesting at all, yet still he sat down in the rotating chair to check them. Most of them were song lyrics, but Yone knew them all. They had already been released. The most interesting thing he found was a prescription. Yone simply couldn't read what was written, but he took a photo of it with his cellphone and saved the doctor's number.
The rest were mundane notes. He put the papers back and opened the notebooks.
The entries were written in a handwriting that seemed to be Zed's. At first, some addresses... Yone photographed them just in case. The following pages were all covered with scattered, crossed-out words, as if they were annotations made from phone calls or random numbers. He flipped through the words without much interest, but among the faded writings, one clipped note caught his attention. It was written “Rhaast” in one side, which told Yone nothing, but made him pull the paper to read the other side.
Two sides to a story,
but they never tell my
side .
The Prodigal Explorer
03162010
It wasn’t a handwriting from anyone he could recognize. Intrigued by those random names and from seeing the name that he knew mostly from a project of a song, Yone found himself picking up his phone the next instant, calling the numbers he saw written even if they didn’t look like a phone number. And, as expected, he soon heard the disappointing, yet unsurprising message.
"Your call could not be completed as dialed. Please check the number and try again."
The dial tone followed, mechanical and echoing; as if shouting in his ear that it made even less sense than it seemed. He took the phone away from his ear and held it in his two hands while resting his elbows on his knees.
What could be so important about this to be marked in red pen in such a monochromatic agenda? He took a picture of everything he could and decided to leave that house, as he needed and was demanded by the owner.
***
One of those tasteless days unfolded with the weight of exhaustion on his shoulders. Yone had always been too busy giving orders to notice how his assistants also went an extra mile themselves to make everything work. He felt it during that afternoon. He realized how much his assistant Irelia could handle; not with the same skill as him, but with the same determination. And on a Sunday.
The photos of Samira showing the "friends" party were already on some fan pages. It wasn’t much of a deal, much less than Yone had imagined. Irelia had already sent the payments to the accountant, as well as scheduled a meeting on Saturday for Yone with the people from GQ about putting Kayn on the cover. She had sorted out all the little annoyances without asking anything.
He realized that Irelia had been working for him for two years, and this had been the first day he had truly thanked her, and said she had done a good job.
There was a reason for all that, though.
He felt detached and curious all day long. He spent too much time analyzing on his tablet the photos taken by Samira. He called dozens of times the housekeeper and the security guards for information on what Kayn was doing and how he was.
After finishing his day, he followed a typical schedule of the last two years; meeting K'Sante and chatting only for the time of a cigar and a few glasses of wine. From there, it was a blur; that night, he was closing his eyes tightly, clutching the cotton sheets and holding his breath in a groan. His skin was sweaty and hot. His body ached and begged for mercy, but he had needed that, that burning distraction. K'Sante grabbed his back and bit his neck while Yone threw his head back against the pillow, his breath coming in gasps when both were finished.
Yone breathed through his mouth for almost a minute, his head drooping forward, and threw himself onto the bed next to K'Sante. He stared at the ceiling and realized with that dizzy sensation that he would sleep until noon if he didn't set the alarm on his cellphone.
More minutes without words, filled only by the sound of their breathing calming down. Yone felt K'Sante turning to lay on his side.
"Yone, what's wrong?"
Yone seemed to snap back to reality with a click. He turned his head and his eyes searched for K'Sante's.
"What's wrong with what?"
"You're not here." K'Sante gave a slightly crooked smile. Yone was indeed so absent-minded that it took him a while to understand what he meant.
"Oh." Yone shook his head and put his arm around K'Sante's shoulders. He laid his hand on his back. "I was lost in thought."
"Not just now." K'Sante released Yone's body and sat up a bit on the bed. "The whole time. I wasn't going to ask while we were having sex, but..."
He didn't finish, just sat on the bed. Yone sighed.
"Sorry.”
"It’s alright, you do well anyway. It's work, isn't it?"
Yone ran his hands over his face and grunted.
"I won't bother you with it outside the office."
K'Sante seemed willing to talk. He crossed his arms.
"Kayn was ruined by fame in a way that even I have rarely seen. You should have seen when he and other employees came to my office. They really believed in that guy, and I trusted him. You can't say it didn't work out."
Of course, trust in the competence of your employees; that was certainly why you gave Kayn a chance. Yone almost laughed at the cynicism.
"What was he like?" Yone crossed his arms behind his head and settled into the bed.
"He was nineteen and had his long hair dyed green; he looked like one of those successful boy band types at the time, but he was much more rock n' roll, in a way that seemed like he could be very artistic. He had that hurt eye that would only look this charming in someone like him, who is already insanely handsome, yet only gets more hypnotic the more violent it looks. He always wore the same beaten-up blue sneakers, some weird oversized wristbands, and had a used guitar. He believed a lot in his potential and wouldn't give up no matter what he encountered along the way. But, overall, he was the typical guy who managed to overcome difficulties and get close to the top. And indeed, he encountered a lot and faced it head-on, without flinching for a moment." K'Sante turned to the nightstand and opened the drawer. "But he had more than determination. He had something curious, something different, you know?"
"Different how?"
K'Sante picked up his cigars again, and Yone frowned slightly. He didn't want to smoke.
"He didn't have the same sparkle in his eyes. He didn't seem thrilled to be inside a record label. I assumed it was just my impression, that he was finding a way to seem confident, not to show he was intimidated, and I liked that. But I think I was wrong."
"It makes sense. Kayn has something very contradictory about him, and even though it may sound obvious, it still intrigues me. He has an ego the size of the world, but he doesn't respect himself. It's like his body and mind are objects to him, as if he doesn't think he deserves dignity. He's determined to wreck himself to get what he wants."
"He looks like he has absolutely nothing to lose."
Yone narrowed his eyes.
"Exactly."
The ceiling was observed for a few more minutes of silence. Yone had decided he wanted to go home to his own bed, but ended up falling asleep.
***
One glass. Two glasses. A soft blur over his vision. A numbing in his teeth. A model's hand on his knee.
Kayn found a way to just escape in the middle of the night like a misbehaving teenager to go to Jinx’s party. Yeah, whatever the fuck the white-haired devil in a suit can say, but he definitely doesn’t know all of his dealers.
As soon as the lights began to intertwine and form insane patterns in his mind, Kayn realized how fucked up he was. And the way his heart was beating, he couldn't say he didn't like it, but he couldn't say he liked it either. It was already Monday morning, but there was nothing about it that could confirm that, as the apartment had no sunlight at all. The first moment Kayn stopped to think about what he was doing was when Jinx and two of his favorite models were kneeling around the table in the living room using amphetamines.
Jinx’s apartment where they were now was a penthouse, with those glass panes the size of entire walls, the wide view of Los Angeles through them. She wasn't exactly a friend of Kayn's – he could barely remember her name throughout the night and fractions of lysergic acid. His eyes reflected the hypnotic sway of the lamps and bulbs, just as those white sofas did; so white they seemed like they could be snorted.
Kayn watched the drunken magic unfold before him; whiskey bottles filling their glasses, their glasses finally emptying into their mouths.
"There's no kind of feeling that can't be drowned and disinfected in a bottle of Blue Label." At some point in the night, when she took the bottle of whiskey from Kayn's hands, which the singer had monopolized, Jinx stared at him firmly and pronounced, as if reciting poetry and not saying something tacky and stupid. She walked back on his knees to the low coffee table, with the bottle in his hand.
Kayn felt more like that was the ethyl alcohol he wanted to use as fuel to set himself on fire. He felt like getting up and kicking something, but he wasn't sure he could lift one of his legs without falling, so he remained sunk into the couch. That woman sitting next to him was playing with the zipper of his pants... who was she again? The apartment owner - whose name he couldn't remember anymore – and one of her insecure girls were kissing as if there was no one around, their eyes small, their mouths a little lost in their own alcoholic insensitivity.
Cold and heat. Soft and tingling touches. That could be LSD, but who knew at that point?
And the party started to fade. Time compressed, the songs burst and spun repeating themselves in endless refrains, and everything that happened seemed to have been taken over by a stroboscopic light and insane kaleidoscopes. Kayn had tried to fire his security guard and leave driving, thankfully not succeeding. He arrived home being supported and guided to his room. He opened hidden compartments in his closet drawers and ingested something else. Some pill, some drug he couldn't even identify at the time; he remembered it was in a blister pack and needed to be popped out, but just that.
Minutes flowed like blood down the walls of Kayn's room. That repetitive noise outside sounded like a maddening mantra in his mind - but there was actually no noise. Shadows slithered intense and deep, absolute, like fingers with claws. He was sitting on the couch with a pillow against his chest and the phone to his ear.
That repetitive noise outside sounded like a maddening mantra in Kayn's mind. Those shadows slithered intense and deep, absolute. The singer was sitting on the couch with a pillow against his chest and the phone to his ear.
His hands were cold, and his eyes were alert and glazed.
"Zed? Zed, is this your phone still?"
It must be. That was a residential number, Zed didn't give that phone to anyone. He had been very reluctant to offer it to Kayn, finding it too personal.
It was night, but Kayn had no idea of the time. Staring at the shadow of one of the figurines, the singer felt his heart burst with fear in his chest. Still without hanging up, he jumped onto the bed and sat on his legs.
"WHERE ARE YOU, ZED?" Kayn grabbed the phone with both hands. "You're a coward. Couldn't handle the pressure, could you? Let all of those bitches tell you what to do, and run away with your tail between your legs."
The panting sound of the singer's breath was also marked on the recording.
"Zed, I..." he trembled for a moment and buried himself deeper between the blankets and pillows. "I fucked up a lot yesterday, I did some shit I-... You had some pills... where are you?"
Kayn swallowed hard and ran his hand over his face. His voice once again lost its vigor and became a low, guttural murmur, as if choked.
"You once said you could be a father figure for me, but you can't even pick up a phone and ask me if I’m alive. Now I see, yeah, you were right, you're just like my parents. I’m only worth anything while I’m useful to you. But what was I expecting? You’re all hypocrites, and you're just another one of them."
Chapter Text
Another curve of the car towards the studio set up by GQ. The engine's very low sound and the air conditioning on, only the two of them on the backseat. It had been quite an agreement on the part of the magazine. Kayn didn't need that interview, didn't need that cover, but Yone really considered it could be an excellent way to polish his image a little bit.
That week felt like they tacitly agreed on a truce. The last concerning thing had been the reports that the house employees had of Kayn coming back absolutely hammered from a party, and Yone would have to go to Jinx’s house to have a chat. Yet, he wouldn’t be too threatening any longer. If he pressures Kayn and his ‘friends’ too much, he’ll have to deal with way more shit than he was in already. So he was just keeping everything in check.
Kayn would spend most of those days inside his bedroom, as high on marijuana as he possibly could. Much to Yone’s surprise, he hasn’t even asked for cocaine any other day, making him wonder whether he was getting it from somewhere else. But he couldn’t find anything, and he had more pressing issues to care about now. He checked on him twice a day, like someone who checks on a toddler who is way too quiet for it to be good news. Yet, nothing came his way. They would exchange some words, Kayn would be too stoned to care, and Yone had had a lot of Adderall to put everything on the right track. Kayn wasn’t getting in his way, and it was the best he could hope for.
So there they were, both heading to the photo shoot that afternoon. Kayn remained silent, probably sober for the first time in days, his attentive and yet somehow indifferent eyes fixated on Yone. The manager tried to keep his explanation as concise as possible because he imagined that irony or a joke would cut through all his effort to make Kayn understand how important it was.
The singer had a tablet in his hand, which Yone had handed to him.
“Do you think you can handle this and follow our script?"
"I can read, Yone, I'm not a complete idiot."
Yone just smirked.
"We have an agreement with GQ, but if you say the wrong thing to them, they'll publish it no matter how much we protest."
"I won't mistreat anyone."
Yone leaned back in the seat and sighed with a wry grin.
"That's delightful to hear."
"I just want this stupid day to end soon."
"I can understand the feeling, but it hasn't even started yet."
"I'm sober since morning and feeling like shit. I don't like posing for photos, that's all. " Kayn left the tablet aside, crossed his arms and also leaned back.
"What do you like to do then?"
Kayn narrowed his eyes and glared at Yone.
"Are you always like this, asking stupid questions and coming to your own stupid conclusions?"
"And are you always like this, throwing an aggressive sentence to change the subject?" Yone retaliated immediately.
"I don't want to change the subject." Kayn's voice was indignant, as he found it all very obvious. "It's just that your question was really stupid. Try to guess what I like to do."
"No, ah." Yone shook his head. "I meant besides singing and playing the guitar."
"Oh, now, yes, we're having a conversation."
Kayn twisted a smile and pulled his legs onto the seat. He folded them, leaned to the side and laid down on the backseat, resting his elbows on the seat and laying his head on Yone’s lap out of nowhere. With a surprised look, Yone watched Kayn rest his head on his legs and just lie there; belly up, staring fixedly at his manager’s face, his brows furrowed. For a moment, Yone tensed up from his personal space being invaded, but he realized that not even his space was personal, and he gave up on that with a sigh. Kayn spoke after.
"But you know, Yone, haven’t you learned at YALE how a casual exchange of information between two people works?"
Yone already guessed what Kayn was going to point out, but he really wanted to hear what he was going to say.
"What are you talking about?"
"If you want to know something about me, share something about yourself too. Or that, or go stalk me the way everyone does. So, tell me something you like to do, first, besides blackmailing people and drinking coffee.”
It made Yone sigh with a grin.
“So you noticed the coffee.”
“You smell like coffee all the time.”
“I do love coffee, cold brew mostly. Nice of you to have noticed. I’m flattered.”
“Guess I haven’t lost my sense of smell yet from snorting too much.”
Maybe Kayn just wanted to see if he would be put off by this kind of acid remark, but it didn't faze Yone the littlest, as he had already noticed the clear pattern; whenever Kayn feels vulnerable, he attacks back. Kayn realized he might have shown that he paid attention to how his new manager smells, for some reason; then, he had to say something witty and aggressive to cover it up. Yone wouldn't miss an opportunity of a conversation because of any of those remarks.
Before thinking about answering, Yone analyzed the situation he was in. Kayn had his head on his lap, just minutes away from reaching the studio. He was willing to talk as he had never seemed to be, and Yone didn't understand why.
"I don't have much time to enjoy any hobby for now. I like music as well, and the arts in general, dance, theater, literature. I like to read books when I get the time. The last one I read that has has been on my shelf for a long while was 'The Picture of Dorian Gray.'”
"Ah, yes. Whatever. Books, Yone? I'm dozing off already." Kayn frowned. "Are you trying to come at me with coffee, literature and movies? Who are you trying to impress?"
"I'm not trying to impress you. The thing is, I genuinely like it."
"So you grew up liking what was made for others to see? Don't you have anything more fun to tell me?"
Kayn pressed his sneakers against the limousine window, but still couldn't stretch his legs.
"Okay... I..." Yone furrowed his brow and glanced outside for a moment.
Yone grinned. It wasn't the type of conversation he usually engaged in. For starters, because it had been many years since anyone sat with their head on his lap, as if they were teenagers in a public high school that he had never attended to. And second - and more intriguing - he realized that he was often in casual conversations bringing up things like titles of Cannes-winning movies or Pulitzer-winning books.
Fun? What could Yone have done in his life that might seem fun in Kayn's eyes?
A few things crossed his mind, but they were either too intimate to share or too boring for the singer.
"Don't worry about it, I've lost interest." Kayn sat up again, and Yone sighed with some relief, a strange relief.
"We've arrived." Yone pointed outside to a building of a club with mirrored and black details, carefully chosen by the magazine.
"Great." Kayn scoffed.
"Kayn, is there any chance we'll come back to this conversation?"
The singer just shook his head. Calm, simple, yet uncomfortable, just as he was when he got out, and when he started talking to the photographers and journalists. Everything quickly became a fast, albeit organized, profusion of clothes, makeup, hair products, sets, and green screen. It was an adventurers club, and it had been closed for that photo shoot.
They didn't go that far as trying to set up an entire “jungle exploration” theme for him just because the next work would be called Prodigal Explorer; and mainly because Yone wouldn't agree. He had an instinct - along with other things that he didn't have the time to investigate - that the singer was going to snap if anyone else just squeezed whatever they wanted about it. Kayn was too stoned to help him, so he would be safe and just go with a mildly sensual photoshoot in a green area.
Every time they touched up Kayn's makeup, it seemed like the makeup artists were recording dissatisfaction and exhaustion on the singer’s face. Even if he rolled his eyes before the flashes, every time he bit his lip for a photo, or adjusted the neck of a shirt that the stylist had suggested, someone around would sigh.
After all, Kayn was indeed absolutely charming, something as innate as intriguing. Yone knew it was a puppet show – that image of Kayn was just a setting; and that helpless and passionate gaze at women was nothing but a captivating character captured by the cameras.
When the photo shoot ended, Yone sighed with relief to see how well everything had gone. Kayn was quiet when he didn't want to lash out at anyone, and that was a comfort. They took a break while Kayn was having a quiche and champagne. He turned indignantly to Yone and had no concern to lower his voice.
But the time would come when he would need to speak; he always did.
The interview.
Seeing how tired Kayn looked, Yone had suggested scheduling it for another day, but Kayn approached the journalist and flashed a smile so wide it seemed like a beast baring its teeth. He almost humorously stated that he was there for that, and gently held her wrist to ask her to sit down, and insisted on doing the interview on that very day.
The interviewer smiled at his intensity with whatever feeling she could actually be having and sat down with a cordial expression. Kayn settled into the couch with the same indifferent look.
He's not going to follow a single word we agreed upon. Yone slumped onto a nearby couch, within Kayn's view, sighing bitterly. He saw the cameraman position a camera and ran his hand over his face. Sighing, Yone straightened up and intertwined his fingers to disguise his apprehension. They talked a little bit as an ice breaker, making lighthearted comments about the photoshoot and the quiche Kayn had been eating. Yet, even the journalist’s voice changed when she actually started asking the questions.
"In March, sources say you're going to start production on your new album. What can we expect from it?"
"We're still in production, much of it is still just a bunch of ideas in our heads. But you can certainly expect some more orchestrated things. You'll be able to see from the single that we'll bring more instrumentation on this new album."
That's it, plural words, Kayn, you're starting out great, while Kayn added to the response, Yone was internally rooting for him like he was in a sports game. The journalist continued.
"Speaking of your shows, some controversies surround your second world tour. Some fights with the band, some photos of you mistreating fans, which seemed to come even before your trips. This is also the first interview to the magazine you've granted in a long time. What do you have to say about that?"
"I don't have much to say. Yeah, I'm stressed, I'm anxious, I’m not by no means in my best moment, but none of that is an excuse. I hate excuses and feeling sorry about myself. I don't want to give any apology. If it helps, I do regret what I've done, but that’s on me only. I either show you guys I want to change or I shut the fuck up and people can all cancel me already. I love my fans, they’re the real thing about all this.”
There aren't foolproof ways of publicly apologizing, but Yone had given him every direction and even a script. First, say you accept the guilt without excuses, but find a way to show the excuses nevertheless, after saying they don't matter. Second, be humble and sensible, but don’t lower your head too much or they’ll step on you. And third, make empty promises of changes and say they can hold you accountable if you ever do it again, which they hardly will because they can't hold it in their memory more than a couple of weeks.
And even though Kayn didn't follow his exact script, yet he did it all his way, as if felt truly genuine.
"When you came to LA, did you expect to have to deal with this?"
"I would like to say that I never imagined I would be here, but that would be a lie. I wouldn't have fought so hard, I wouldn't have chased after it as I did. There was nothing in the world I wanted more than to play guitar, you have to wish for the best of everything we do. I wanted the world to see that I..." Kayn paused, but only for a moment. "... that yes, no matter what they said, I was capable of this, and I am going to endure."
"Who inspired or inspires you as you grew up with this dream?" Kath adjusted herself on the couch before asking.
Kayn didn't let even a second pass before promptly responding.
“I don't have any inspiration." The singer then faced her with a startled look and cleared his throat. "I don’t have anyone I look up to but myself any longer."
Yone leaned back in his chair. Yeah, that was a deep, hard one. They had scripted that a little, for him to pick someone like David Bowie promising not to bore them, maybe make a lighthearted comment about also having ‘mismatched’ eyes. Something that sounds acid like he is, yet simple. Yet, Kayn just went rogue.
Well, whatever by then. Everything was going great, so great it’s actually hard to believe. Maybe Yone’s best day ever since he became Kayn's manager. It’s not a line that really makes him sound mostly only overly focused that will ruin it.
The interview still lingered in Yone's mind as he was back in the car with Kayn. He had recorded everything on his phone, but he asked for the video.
He needed to show that to Akali.
"Well, it all worked remarkably well. Kayn, you were..." Yone finally broke the silence with a sigh. "...amazing. I have to thank you."
"You know why I'm doing this, don't you?"
"It's all about the coke?"
Kayn lowered his eyes and stared at his hands. A trembling smile appeared on his lips, hesitant as a tear that wavers in teary eyes.
"No. Not today. Keep this shit with you, you'll notice how you actually have nothing to control me over. But remember I'm fulfilling my part of the deal. And before you go, I have something to tell you."
Kayn leaned closer to Yone's ear again, and this time the manager's hands trembled to hold him.
"But beauty, real beauty, ends where intellectual expression begins. Intellect is itself a form of exaggeration, and destroys the harmony of any face." Kayn brought himself farther again to open the car door and, after quoting Wilde's words from 'The Picture of Dorian Gray.
Yone was confused half by the sentence, and half by that deep, hoarse voice that close to his ear.
"Haven't you...?"
Kaun laughed at his confusion.
"For such a gifted kid, you're actually gullible. Come on, I have internet access on my phone." With an amused voice, Kayn winked at him and said his final sentence of the day before getting out of the car and almost running inside the mansion, yelling “freedom” and making Yone laugh at the scene.
That open book that Kayn was supposed to be seemed to have some missing pages. That puzzle was indeed scattered everywhere, and he had better start putting it all back together.
Chapter Text
"It’s even hard to believe how kind Kayn was."
Akali was leaning on the table of the meeting room and played the interview video for the second time.
Evelynn was sitting behind her desk. She was one of the rare people capable of making Yone wait for an hour sitting in a waiting room. And perhaps that was her ideal definition: that of a woman whose rubrics sacralized so many of society's fantasies and daily feelings that they could barely imagine.
K’Sante was also like that. He had his commercial practicality, but he liked to think that he played with what people idolized, and he had an enviable business sense that had always worked well in his favor. However, he had his flaws. Not in the obvious sense, in the simplistic sense that all human beings have flaws. No, K’Sante had flaws; flaws, like a missing gear, like viruses in a program. He was blinded by arrogance, too easily seduced by the delusions that danced in front of him like trays of fragrant dishes, and it had already taken remarkable proportions.
Obvious ones.
Evelynn, not so much, even though her entire posture would tell everyone the opposite. Evelynn was in every single detail the depiction of a stereotype: the femme fatale, a bordering mystical seductress, made for the male gaze kind of archetype. Her style oozes sex appeal and she is absolutely fierce in every single trace, from eyes to eyeliner, from huge stiletto heels to huge stiletto nails. Yet, thinking that anyone will get anything out of her was quite a rookie mistake. She had never been in any kind of relationship as far as anyone knows and no one has ever actually said to have slept with her if not within a lie, a lie that had cost a lot of people their careers. She was as dangerously powerful as one can get, and Yone would define her, obviously only to himself, as a straight-up villain. Yet, Yone envied her emotional armor, like an apprentice blacksmith standing before the very Excalibur. He worked on that aspect of himself daily, not without the impertinent feeling that Evelynn could actually be as completely insensitive as she appeared to be. That would make all his own distressing efforts to cement the shell around his plaster personality nothing but pathetic.
Seeing Evelynn smile wasn't that hard, but most of the time she did so for all the wrong reasons. It was probably because someone screwed up really hard and she’ll reap the benefits. So he couldn't trust any of her words, but it was still good to listen to what she had to say.
“It is tasty to see.” She purred, sighing afterwards. “It does seem like you're quite good with domination, Yone.”
Yone chuckled, standing next to the desk.
He wouldn't ever admit that not even he had any idea about why Kayn was behaving like that. He just had a good bluff on his hand for his next moves.
"Dominating a brat is my specialty.” He said playfully, but with a sly smirk.
Akali rolled her eyes briefly. That kind of conversation with innuendos and sex jokes pissed her off often.
"Yeah, Yone, you replaced Zed very well and very fast.”
“Speaking of which,” Yone replied only. "How are we dealing with him?"
"He's still calling insistently to find a way to speak with Kayn.”
Akali had something else to add.
“No matter what Evelynn says or how burnt out he was, he’s back from vacation in two days. As soon as he arrives, he'll end up finding a way of calling him directly. If we’re not careful, he might even come visit.”
Not seeming to care, Evelynn drummed her nails on the desktop.
“Leave him to me if he steps in LA.”
They turned their gaze back to the screen and for a moment only listened to Kayn's simple, concise, and well-articulated words.
Yone gathered courage to ask. Something had been bothering him way too much for some time already.
"How bad would it be if they talked, though? We can monitor it. But Zed was, for better or worse, the closest person Kayn had. He must be feeling abandoned."
"Don't even think about it." Evelynn didn't even think before replying. "Yone, you think you're brilliant, but if you give him the slightest opening, Zed will put you down like a dog."
"I'd like to see him try." Yone challenged back.
"As sexy as it would be to see both of you trying to kill each other, it’s not wise. If you want to check how much you can handle, go talk to him first." Evelynn said.
"I think I'll do that, actually. When does Zed come back from his trip? It would be a good way to find out more about Kayn.”
Akali turned to the Yone beside her, her expression seeming indifferent.
"Zed kept schedules, and we confiscated them all. Either he kept everything in memory and won't tell you, or maybe he doesn't even know. We know very little about what happened in Kayn's teenage years There's a lot that no one can tell us except Shieda himself. And his mother doesn't tell us anything at all. She doesn't even open the door for anyone, and when she does, she doesn't make sense. She is always back and forth from the psychiatric hospital."
"How long has it been since she and Kayn last talked?" Yone asked.
Akali crossed her arms, turning to Yone.
"I don't think he’s even done it, at least ever since he came to LA. He doesn't even accept to do concerts in a 300 mile radius from her."
Even though he pretended to not care and shrugged, the information was replayed in several ways in Yone’s head. He turned back to stare at Kayn's paused image on the TV screen. They each remained with their own thoughts for a few moments. Akali sighed and crossed her arms.
"Alright, I’ll ask. Do you guys think we're wrong about Kayn? Do you think all he needed was a little change?"
Evelynn smiled crookedly.
"Well, you heard him in the interview. No one inspires him, he’s driven and powerful, but now he can only look at himself once he’s reached the top. There’s a common behavior in people who completely gave up, which is looking remarkably easy to deal with all of a sudden.”
Yone swallowed hard, feeling his heart race a bit. She had a point.
" We knew that he’s the self-made artist that walked alone this entire road, it’s part of his brand. So we’re all quite sure that a lot of bad shit must have happened to him." He controlled his tone to keep it matter-of-factly casual and not actually concerned. “And ever since then, he's been making a lot of self-destructive decisions. Yet, I thought it was simpler, that it was just a lot of anger issues and stardom arrogance, but I'm sure the hole digs deeper.”
Akali looked away, her voice hoarse when she spoke up.
"Because Kayn doesn't want to get better." She concluded, an obvious but poignant truth.
"Kayn is still making money and will continue to do so. If you keep him alive, that’s enough for us. What we need to do is prevent him from becoming a shooting star while he still has something good to offer. But we shouldn't be betting much higher on him." Evelynn walked in front of the TV and turned it off. He threw himself on the couch in front of the Akali and Yone.
"I’ll make him a safe bet again." Yone assured, but he wasn't sure and a lot was stuck inside his throat. He walked to the middle of the room, and his eyes seemed a little lost. “You know, Evelynn? About Zed’s diaries and schedules you all confiscated… can I keep them for a while?”
***
"Good morning, boss," Irelia greeted Yone with a cup of coffee as soon as he entered the office. She had a tablet in her hands.
"How are we today?" Yone glanced at his watch.
“Lunch with Senna in two hours. I sent the agendas to be addressed to your email."
Yone stopped abruptly, and the singer took a second to notice. She simply held the tablet against her body and stared at her boss, impassive.
"Irelia, you've been working with me for three years, and I've never had any reason to reprimand you."
"I'm just doing my job." Irelia said, but she kept on staring at his eyes.
"You’re the person I trust the most for the job."
"I'm listening, sir."
"I need to be away for a few days. Do you think you can handle Kayn in the meantime?"
Irelia hesitated for a moment, the shock of the sudden situation evident in her eyes. Her irises flickered around the room frantically for a second or two before she regained her composure.
"I can manage it, yes."
"He's tough even for me, Irelia. I'm not going to leave you alone in this, obviously. Evelynn will be the one really responsible for Kayn, but her schedule is tight, and you'll have to handle a lot. I'll pretend you didn't say anything and let you think about it."
"No problem, I can do that. It's just a few days, right?"
"Believe me, it's a big problem, even if it's only three days."
"Do you need me to book a flight?" She was concise so Yone wouldn't see her faltering.
"I'll send you the locations. You book something nice downtown and arrange for a rental car. Do whatever you need to avoid layovers and book the flight for the night or early morning of the fourteenth, so I don't lose the day. And make sure I'm back here in the morning on the eighteenth."
"You send me the info and can consider it done." Irelia took her eyes off the tablet.
Yone knew that if there was anyone he could trust, even for something risky like dealing with Kayn, it was Irelia; after all, the singer had no appointments in those three days. If Yone gave him everything he wanted, there would be no reason for the singer to terrorize his assistant — and, if any problem arose, Irelia could call Evelynn.
Yone entered his office while Irelia sat by her desk. He insisted on this thought to try to convince himself of it, but he knew he was forcing his mind.bit was just the best he could do with it. He needed to travel before the filming of the music video started. During that filming time, he could not, under any circumstances, allow someone else to manage Kayn.
"Send the notes with this morning's calls and messages left," he opened the door to his office.
"No one important called today, sir."
Irelia glanced away for a moment, enough for Yone to read her subtle gesture, the word obviously weirdly stressed. He took his hand off the doorknob.
"But was there anyone unimportant who might interest me?"
"Your father called three times this week."
Yone clenched his teeth and pursed his thin lips.
"Did he say it was urgent?"
"He just asked you to call him back." Irelia pulled out a note and read it.
"Right. It really wasn't important." Yone entered his office and closed the door.
The day passed like a noisy train, commitments tied to it like heavy and responsible wagons. It had been a pleasant lunch with Senna, hours on the phone, reading Zed schedules in every spare minute he had. He stopped by K’Sante's office — but this time, they just talked.
When he got home, it was a shower, a glass of brandy, and going to bed. He didn't even need meds today, which felt coincidental. because otherwise he wouldn't be able to get up when, at two in the morning the mechanical sounds seemed to come from another reality. Some blurry images dissolved in his mind and Yone opened his eyes with difficulty.
Was it his phone ringing?
Yes, his phone was ringing — the electronic and unbearable beeps while his hand couldn't even move to reach it.
"Hello?" Yone barely knew when was it that he managed to pick up his phone from the nightstand and put it to his ear.
"Yone, what are you doing?"
The voice was very, very familiar, but for moments, Yone oscillated in his absurd sleepy state and didn't recognize it.
"Kayn?" Yone sat up in bed and ran his hand over his face.
"Were you sleeping?"
Yone clenched his teeth.
"No, I was jogging."
"Nice, you are awake enough to be sarcastic; great, then you can come here."
"What do you want?" Yone growled.
"I'm out of coke, fix it."
"I don't have that right now, Kayn, go to sleep," he scoffed.
"You know what's really fun?" the other had some kind of teasing in his voice, "A car race is fun."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about needing some adrenaline, but if you can't bring me that, I can get wasted, take a Lamborghini, and speed through the streets of Beverly Hills. It's a good alternative."
"Stop being an idiot, Kayn."
"I could also race with those cars that have lights on top, you know? What do you think of that?"
"You wouldn't-..." Yone stopped himself. He sighed deeply and swallowed his anger. "Don't do anything, Kayn, I'm coming over."
Nobody should be allowed to drive with such a strong desire to sleep, but when Yone arrived at the mansion — when he entered the elevators, turning off the alarms — he wasn't so sleepy anymore; he was just fiercely angry at Kayn for being so stubborn and stupid.
He walked through the dark corridors in sneakers, jeans, a T-shirt, and a blazer, his hair in a ponytail because he didn't have time to properly take care of it. He opened the door to the ante-room of the bedroom, and Kayn was lying on the couch, his arms crossed.
"Where is it?" The singer asked immediately, staring at the ceiling.
"Kayn, I told you I don't have it. I'll get more."
The singer sat up, and Yone closed the door.
“When are you going to get it? Couldn't you have gone now so you could fix me up once you arrive?"
"I'm not going to buy cocaine in the alleys, Kayn. Things here work on top."
"You came here just to try to hold me back? Aren't you tired of getting beaten up?"
Yone took a few steps and sat on the couch in front of Kayn. He gave a slight smile.
"Maybe not."
Kayn shook his head and laughed with disdain, leaning forward to stare at Yone while once more getting a bit too close to his personal space.
“Kinky. I can be a sadistic Dom if you want, I just don't do aftercare.”
“Don’t start.”
Kayn laid back again on the backrest of the couch, crossing his arms behind his back and spreading his legs a bit more.
“Oh, don't be so uncomfortable. Sex is probably the most fun thing you’ve ever done.”
“Well, yes? Such a weird question. Isn't it the same for you?”
“You look like you’d know what you’re doing. Well learned, hard earned, right?”
Kayn wasn't answering the question, instead just trying to get him embarrassed.
Well. It isn't like he is cherishing or trying to keep these memories as intimate pieces. Kayn won't make him back out.
“I guess. It’s a long way from a first blowjob to deepthroating K’Sante.”
Kayn couldn't help but widen his eyes and sit back straight, leaning forward again out of sheer surprise.
“You do what now?”
A faint smile in Yone’s lips.
“Like I said, it’s a matter of experience.”
“Holy shit, Yone. You’re not only a snake because you’re treacherous and unreliable, you can dislocate your jaw like one.”
Yone actually got to laugh. It’s probably not that funny, but the laugh was the most genuine he felt in a while.
“You know, snakes don't actually unhinge their jaws.”
Kayn rolled his eyes.
“Please, don't bore me. You were doing well.”
And the singer remained there, it was the part that entertained Yone. Probably Kayn had been bored more than anything. In front of him, there wasn’t a desperate coke abstinent. Just someone with deep dark circles under his eyes trying to be amused somehow. He would have to get a little bit more intimate, and, again, it’s not like sex is actually intimate for him. He just had to find a way not to make it sound too provocative.
He remembered something Kayn said to him. It was interesting to have such a clear memory of it. He’s used to having a remarkable memory, he wouldn't have such an outrageous curriculum if not, but it’s usually intentional.
But you know, Yone, haven’t you learned at YALE how a casual exchange of information between two people works?
"It’s something to be learned after a lot of shitty hookups think they are in a porn and make you gag.”
It took Kayn a moment before realizing that Yone had returned to the subject.
"Don't even say. Men are disgusting.” Kayn looked away and that sentence of him sounded truly angry, yet, he huffed and changed tone and directions of the sentence. “But being on the other end can be tricky as well. I still remember a guy that was probably trying to chomp off my dick. Fuck, I wanted to punch off those fucking teeth."
Yone softly laughed, then sighed and relaxed back on the sofa.
"And I did punch him." Kayn looked ahead, fixed, with a crooked smile. "I think I wanted to make sure he didn't have any teeth left to do that to another human being."
Yone rubbed his eyes.
"God, Kayn, you're not right in the head."
"Believe me, I did humanity a favor."
They both just laughed and Kayn saw that Yone was holding it back. He saw that he found it funny, but he didn't allow himself to laugh at something so absurd.
"Don't worry, I'm not a monster. I was a gentleman when I asked him to stop. I told him he was an amazing guy, but I was feeling guilty and couldn't do that to my girlfriend."
"And there was never any girlfriend."
Kayn pulled his feet to the sofa and laid down on it.
"I always came up with that story. I said from the beginning that I had a girlfriend, and there was always an excuse to go away without troubles if I ever needed it.” He said as he looked at the ceiling. “Being ‘straight’ made me even sexier.”
"And the punch came when...?"
"He tried to rob me." Kayn turned on the sofa and grabbed a cushion, still not looking back at Yone. "And he was still an idiot. I must have had, what, ten dollars? Seattle was wild with us."
"You aren't from Seattle, though, are you?" Yone frowned for a moment.
"Since that Monday in December, I was from nowhere." Kayn fixed his eyes on the ceiling and seemed to dig up an old memory. "But we all met in Seattle, and I ended up staying there. Blame my guitar."
"We…?"
Kayn sighed, still staring at the ceiling. It took him a moment, and it felt like he pondered on what to say. Meanwhile, he stroked his own arm, right on top of the tattoo, and Yone noticed it.
"All this talk reminds me you owe me a blowjob. I'm starting to think I'll have quite a nice time with it."
He had suddenly changed the subject again. Yone knew he was treading in dangerous waters. Kayn will make him uncomfortable, and it’s his job to not allow him to control the conversation, not cowering but not feeding it.
“You know, that girl probably hasn't brushed her teeth yet."
Kayn chuckled.
"She collected the saliva and kept it in a little jar on top of the closet."
They both chortled, but Kayn sighed once more.
"We can make fun, but in the end, this shit is theirs. The audience may be full of idiots, deluded, eager, desperate people who bother me and want my love while wanting my blood at the same time, but they are fans. They are real. They are the only ones who still feel in this whole damn thing. By the way, she showed me her driver's license first for me to check her age. It's creepy anyway but I'm not a fucking pedo."
And suddenly the silence became so heavy that it hurt. Yone realized that the guards were down and that it was a unique opportunity. But, above opportunities, above chances, he felt like talking.
Secretly, Kayn did too.
"The only thing that mattered in my house was classical music." Yone didn't want to sound too severe, so he made sure to make it sound trivial. "My father was a sponsor for the Symphony Orchestra. My mother was a beautiful ballerina nineteen years younger than him, also a pianist and owner of an impeccable contralto voice. I grew up in that environment, I was playing the piano and dancing ballet when I was five, six years old. But when I got my own computer and keyboard, what I spent my afternoons at was making my own electronic music.”
Kayn opened his eyes wide, amused. Finally, he looked back at Yone.
"Oh, their prodigy gem was just one rave away from happiness.”
Yone laughed and realized that Kayn was interested. The singer once more sat on the couch and gave him a weak smile, encouraging him to continue.
"I almost went to a military boarding school when my father found out."
“Fuck off. You couldn't be sent away only for playing some techno, are they this narcissistic?”
“Yeah, they were both terribly controlling, mostly after...” Yone almost mentioned another reason why they were like this, but he wasn't ready to talk about Yasuo with him. Or at all, maybe. What was remarkable was that he felt this open to actually say it. “Well, maybe they also already suspected I was gay, so that would be another reason.”
Kayn scoffed.
“Best thing ever to be done, send a gay guy to a school full of bored dudes exercising.”
Once more it got Yone to laugh. Before he answered, Kayn asked yet another question.
"How did you convince your father not to take you?"
"I would stop playing the piano, my father wouldn't stand that. I was so desperate to leave Kyoto that I spent every free hour I had every day dancing and studying music, trying to pass the Juilliard exams."
"Your way of escaping your reality was by getting into the game. It’s smart, but you have to have nerves of steel."
"I think I always did. But I also always liked music. It was systematic, it was boring, but it wasn't a terrible sacrifice."
“Yet it kills you a little bit inside every time you give up on your passion to do what you are supposed to. I can see why you are the way you are now. Or you just invented this whole story for me to sympathize with how cold and manipulative you are.”
Yone just chuckled.
“Well, it’s all true, but it’s nice to know that there is something to be sympathized with.”
“It kinda is, if you care about rich people's problems. I’m mostly thinking of how flexible you probably are from ballet.”
Shit. No, Kayn won't deflect that one again. There was something way too important that he had just mentioned.
"You feel like this sometimes, don't you, Kayn? They made you work too hard because you were the perfect bad boy, one that can have the sexy looks and attitude, but can play the part. Aren't you sympathizing with me because you have also been controlled way too much? We could work together with this.”
Yone's question was sharp and pierced Kayn's chest like a needle, a long needle. Silence swirled in their minds and Kayn tried to remember the last time he had such a conversation.
Zed didn't want to be confessional. Zed was concerned, yes, about his problems, but he wanted to work. Why was Yone so interested in him? What kind of bond was that white-haired EDM pianist thinking of creating?
Well, Yone chose the correct sentences. Probably none of that shit has even happened to him. Could he be that much of a snake?
Better safe than sorry. He had no reason to believe Yone, so he might just assume he was trying to manipulate him. It wouldn't be the first time, and it won't be the last.
Kayn stood up and once again put on that impassive balaclava over his face, making his eyes shine opaque.
"But back to the subject, Yone... What was the best blowjob you ever received? Wanna find out?”
He had returned to the original topic, just because it suited him. Yone felt Kayn's gaze on his body as he approached him and tried not to shiver. He settled on the sofa and tried not to be affected.
"Why do you always turn back to sex when you want me to stop talking about a certain subject?”
Kayn stood right in front of him as he was still sitting down, their legs touching already.
“I called you here because I was bored. You started boring me again, so I just go back to something more fun.”
“Have you ever said such things to Zed as well?” Yone was still looking up. If he got up, he would have to either push Kayn or jump off to the side, the first too aggressive, the second one too afraid.
“Oh, daddy Zed is hot, but I don't go that way with him. I respect him, he’s not a slut like you. You are annoying, so I'm starting to think that we should have some fun at least.”
It’s definitely not the first time Yone’s been called a slut, not at all. It’s usually the first thing someone does when they find out they had been tricked the whole time.
“I really am a slut.” He said deadpan. “But when it suits me, and right now it doesn't. It’s not offering me any advantage.”
Kayn bowed enough to lean his hand on the backrest of Yone’s couch, his arm beside his head. Yone felt his heart starting to race. Yone knew he was signing his death wish the moment he allowed Kayn to take that step towards him. Yet, something stupid inside him tried to seek sanity, and tried to convince himself he knew how to play. Because, damn, he actually kind of knew.
“I get it.” The deep voice of the singer almost purred. “I know the guys you have sex with, they are good, but they’re not like me. And I like it rough, maybe you can't take me.”
“I can take you any time, Kayn.” Now it was Yone who reached out and grabbed the singer's T-shirt. He brought him close so he would be able to hush into his ear. His manager’s low, whispered voice was followed by a breath between his teeth made Kayn clench his teeth. “I think it's you who just can't resist me. Am I this hot to you, Kayn?”
His expression twisting slightly in defiance, Kayn shrugged and straightened up his posture. He pointed to Yone's chest and narrowed his eyes.
"You shouldn't have come here without my damn cocaine."
Kayn turned his back, leaving the anteroom, and entered the bedroom, locking the door. In fact, Yone had found it funny, but there was no humor inside him for him to laugh.
He had to get some sleep, and try to make some sense of everything that happened.
Chapter Text
Kayn's hands slid all over his sweaty skin, down to his waist.
Everything was blurry. The singer's body pushed against his and grabbed his hip. His arms wrapped around the body, and every time he-
"Boss?" Irelia's voice almost seemed surreal. "Yone?"
Yone pulled his head up from on top of his desk, opened his eyes, and took a breath as if he were drowning. He sat up in his chair and stared at his assistant with a vacant look.
He had not slept more than a couple of hours total that night. It took him a long second to orient himself, to realize he was indeed sleeping in his office, on top of Zed’s agendas and his own reading documents; having an erotic dream about the singer superstar he was supposed to manage. He feared for a moment that he might have moaned in his sleep, but he swallowed hard, straightened up, and sighed.
Serves you right, Yone.
He turned to his assistant, who was patiently staring at him, and ran his hand over his face, pulling the chair closer to the desk.
"Sorry, Irelia. Why are you here?"
"There are some things you need to read." Yone recognized the folder she was holding and immediately associated it with the problem he needed to solve.
"Is the other folder going to the record label?"
"Yes, I'll send them to K’Sante."
"No, wait." Yone reached out for Irelia to hand him that folder. "What's the urgency?"
"It needs to be solved by Monday."
"I'll take it." He placed the folders on the table. "And, after I leave, hold down the fort here without me. I need to get at least an hour of sleep."
"Alright." She handed him the documents.
"If you need help, you know you can call."
"No, I can handle it."
Yone put the folders under his arm and turned back to his desk. There was something he wanted to say to her, but at the moment, he just wished she would leave once and for all.
"Okay then. It's up to you."
As she left the room, Yone thought he might end up having to test her. Either she could be the perfect partner, or she could be learning every step to be a wolf in sheep's clothing. She was always very competent... Too competent. Yone trusted her like he trusted few people, but he always thought that business is not done with blind trust; friendships are made with blind trust. Irelia wasn't his friend, and business has a price.
A price. Like, for example, to avoid a scandal, giving Kayn the drugs he wants and that will end up destroying him: either that, or he would become unbearable, or he could go out into the street to get them himself — because Yone could say otherwise, but he wouldn't be able to stop him from doing anything unless he tied him to the bed.
That wouldn't be a bad idea.
Yone gave a crooked smile, chortling at himself.
That wouldn't be a bad idea AT ALL.
He shook his head, fully aware of how much trouble that could get him into. Alright; that could be a way to get close to Kayn, a way to try to change him in a way that the fantastic agent Zed couldn't achieve. But...
You're just looking for an excuse to fuck Shieda Kayn, aren't you, Yone?
A side of him that used to be quiet emerged as a voice in his conscience, making him insecure. Yone pushed that thought away and assured himself that he would never admit to something like that.
Yone stood up. He sighed even more insistently and spread his hands over the agendas he had open on the desk. He scanned through them without finding anything but banalities. He hadn't gotten much from there. He should have opened the older ones first, but he was too tired to think about it. If only he had slept poorly just that night, but it’s actually been a while since he last slept more than four hours.
He turned to the wall and pulled out one of the paintings. Behind it, a safe, which was then opened by fingerprint reading. He picked a case from inside. With an electronic beep, the safe closed, and Yone began to tidy up everything that was scattered all over his desk.
He had something a bit urgent to deal with.
He ran his hand over his tense neck and sighed. He picked up the folder he was supposed to take to K’Sante.
I have two things to deal with.
He grabbed his phone and left his office with an inevitable furrowed brow.
***
The sound of silverware was subtle, and the conversation was a polite murmur. As Yone walked between the tables, he kept his steps light, as if nothing in it scared him as much as it did. The café was a bit empty.
The waiter had just left the table that interested him with his sepia notepad. The man he was waiting for was sitting at one of the black tables. Yone smiled at him, and sat down.
"Good morning." Yone was cordial. He remained standing for a moment.
"Good morning, Yone." The man intertwined his fingers and rested his hands on the painted wooden top.
Yone glanced at the man’s brown briefcase, placed on a side chair. He put his own black briefcase beside it.
"Should I call the waiter back to take your order?"
"No, thank you. I can't waste time today." Yone sat down in front of him.
The man gave a wry smile and lowered his voice.
"Is your little druggie throwing his fits?"
"That's beside the point."
A long sigh cut through the air, and the man in front of Yone slumped in his chair. He subtly glanced at the briefcase Yone had brought. The waiter approached with a glass containing a light brown liquid and whipped cream.
"Are you sure you don't want to order anything? The iced cappuccino here is simply divine."
"Not for now.", and it felt weird even for Yone to deny an iced cappuccino.
The waiter walked away without saying anything.
"You do seem quite tired." The man leaned over the table and gave a sardonic smile. "You're not using the merchandise, are you?"
Yone shot him a fierce look. He smiled for a few moments, but soon wiped that expression off his face and cleared his throat.
"Do you have the full amount there?"
"I'm not stupid enough to try to deceive you. I know what can happen to me."
"At least you know you won't get lamp powder and lidocaine."
"That's what I want to believe. After all, I need to trust you."
"As long as you never get me in trouble, Yone, I'm a very safe supplier. The best you'll find."
"I know that."
The man took a sip of his coffee, and Yone sat there just to not seem anxious, as they exchanged some random words in a pretend conversation. When it was time to leave, he picked up the brown briefcase from the chair and left the café.
Maybe I’ll also need a hit to make it to the end of this day, Yone thought, the kind of thought you already know to be a bad idea from the start, but you’ll do it anyway.
***
When entering Kayn's mansion, Yone usually went straight to the bedroom. He always found him there; even in that huge house, the singer hardly ever left his quarters. So it was surprising to be warned by one of the employees of the house that Kayn was outside.
Yone already dreaded the few times he had to be outside when getting from his car to the place he arrived at, what it takes him to get from wherever there is one A.C. to another. Getting out of the house took him a long sigh and opening up a couple of buttons on his black shirt, putting the sunglasses on again. At least he always kept his long hair in an updo, this time a loose bun.
Not that it wasn't a stunning patio, with a soothing, peaceful energy to it, the tranquil oasis type of environment. The lush greenery, as well as the coconut and palm trees, were the frames of a very Californian dream, shining in glass walls and on the surface of glimmering transparent waters. The centerpiece is a huge, sleek bathtub, and adjacent to it there is a wide pool that seamlessly mirrors the tepid shine of the late afternoon sky. The lights and colors are warmer as the day begins to fade, casting golden shimmers in every surface, the surface of the waters like scattered diamonds.
The pool was surrounded by comfortable lounge chairs and plush outdoor sofas with soft cushions, wide blue umbrellas providing shadow for tables and chairs along with the trees. Laying down on one of the lounge chairs, there was Kayn, wearing only black beach shorts and sunglasses, a white towel hanging on the backrest.
Noticing Yone’s approach, Kayn already sighed.
“If it’s not my babysitter.” Unfazed, as his manager stopped beside his chair, Kayn grabbed a glass with transparent liquor and limes from the table beside him and lifted it to Yone. “Caipirinha?”
“No, thanks. Cachaça is not for me.”
“It’s way better when you’re in Rio de Janeiro by the Copacabana shore, that’s for sure. But after the third one by the pool it goes in easily.” he said before taking a big sip.
“So you liked Brazil, after all?” Yone sat down in a regular chair by the same table. While he tried to just relax, his right foot tapped on the floor insistently.
“Yeah, they are usually the best, most energetic crowds. But I think they might hate me now, and they are also passionate. It’s actually their fault for having way too good parties, I woke up every day like trash for the concerts.”
Both were referring to his last tour, which he had given a really poor performance. One of Kayn’s most valuable aspects as a singer is how powerful he is on stage. His presence is gigantic, he can mesmerize anyone watching. So, whenever he gives out a half-assed concert, it’s glaring to anyone, and infuriating to any fan. The whole P.R. has taken measures to make sure “he” apologized on social media, but what is done is done.
“I can make you the headliner in a festival there if you want to make it up for them.”
Yone could, yes, but it wasn't like he should. He mostly wanted to see how Kayn reacted to it.
“Nah. They don't deserve this shit. I screwed up with them and I will do it again if I have to play this fucking album any time soon. I can't stand playing or listening to anything from Blade’s Reach anymore, I don't know how they still like it so much."
"Well, it's a beautiful album."
"No, it could be, but they just changed everything. That’s why I hate this album and I hate it that everyone loved it more than Reaping Slash.” Kayn drank some more. "That's what people want, regurgitated shit.”
"You felt you were more participative in Reaping Slash, was that it?” Yone crossed his legs.
"No, that’s just because most of it was inspired by Rhaast, the Prodigal Explorer and it all.”
"So, Rhaast and Prodigal Explorer are two specific things or people. Are they aliases?”
Kayn smirked, and when he swallowed hard, it was as if sand flowed down his throat.
"I'm feeling hot just seeing you, Yone. And it’s not in the fun way. You’re outside wearing a black shirt and already sweating. Don't you want to take off your shirt? If you need it I can apply sunscreen on your back.”
Yone uncrossed his legs and then crossed them to the other side. He would pretend to not have understood the innuendo.
“I'm fine. It’s almost sunset. I just came here to talk about a few things.”
“You sure? You’re so pale I think I could lose a line of coke on your ass.”
Yone chortled.
“Speaking of which.”, he reached out for a transparent ziplock bag inside his pocket and left it on the tabletop. Kayn looked at it to see a reasonable amount of cocaine inside. He got up to check it, lifting it a bit too look inside.
“Finally it's Christmas and Santa brought the snow.”
“I brought you this because we need to talk a little.”
After leaving the ziplock bag on the tabletop, Kayn gave the step needed to get closer to Yone.
“Do we? You’re looking a bit restless.” He then swiftly held one temple of Yone’s sunglasses, taking them off of his face to stare into his eyes. “Taking for the size of your pupils in daylight, you either snorted some of my stash or you are in love with me.”
Once more leaning over and this close to him, Yone closed his fists on the armrests of the chair. He was indeed feeling hot, and at least the cocaine is starting to wear off or he’d be jumping Kayn in no time.
Cold blood, where had you gone?
Maybe Kayn had boiled it.
“I had to keep myself awake today to work after you called me in the middle of the night.” he managed to keep himself nonchalant.
“To work? You’re smelling like K’Sante's perfume.”
Just a flash crossed Yone's mind; him entering K'Sante's office and locking the door; his body against the desk, his own hands grabbing the wooden top; kisses, ardor, tension, tremor, climax, and prostration. Yes, maybe that was why he was so calm — less than an hour ago.
"Yeah, I am." Yone shrugged and offered his open hand to get his sunglasses back. “I’m not hiding it, but you sure are observant.”
"Needed to get some after last night?” Kayn gave them back and kept still standing, arms crossed, looking amused enough.
Yone put on his sunglasses again.
“All I needed from last night was to go back to talking to you. I enjoy our conversations.”
Kayn rolled his eyes dramatically and gave his back.
“Fuck off.”
“It’s true.”
“Well, then, you’re the only one of us that thinks so.”
“Here's the thing, Kayn. I'll need to travel next week for just a couple of days...”
Yone's words trailed off as Kayn simply took off his shorts.
“What a pity, I’ll miss you so much. Alexa, buy me fireworks and hire some hookers.”
There weren't any Alexa device near, only Yone appalled that Kayn was naked in front of him once more, out of nowhere. He looked even hotter than in the first time and he tried to be chill about it.
“What are you doing?”
Kayn turned to him with a cynical smile.
“Well, now it's official, you really are the biggest fan of stupid questions I've ever met.”
“Why are you getting naked?” Rolling his eyes, Yone rephrased his question. Meanwhile, Kayn approached the bathtub, turning it on. With a sigh, running a hand over his eyes, Yone added, “Can't you wait to take a bath? The matters I need to discuss are serious.”
Yone turned away from the scene. He sighed heavily, clenching his fists. Kayn's scornful laughter preceded him shrugging, completely naked under golden sunlight, as it shone on his sweaty skin.
“You can talk, be my guess.” He stretched his arms and walked towards the bathtub. “Unless it distracts you way too much, then you’re free to leave.”
No matter how it truly distracted him, that elicited a sardonic smile from Yone.
So be it, then.
After he stepped into the bathtub and turned back to Yone, Kayn watched his manager take off his shoes and socks. He frowned, but didn't say anything, just finding his place to sit.
“You know what, good idea.” Yone left his shoes aside “Actually, you've been stressing me out quite a bit lately, a bathtub bath could help.”
Kayn sat down, the water up to his chest, and watched as Yone unbuttoned his shirt sleeve, seeming unconcerned.
“Who said I invited you?” The singer feigned contempt, but it sounded more like a growl.
“Who said I'm asking?” Yone started unbuttoning his shirt, first the sleeve, then the others. Kayn had no idea by then if Yone was trying to tease him even more or if that was the way he naturally moved, as his fingers were always quite skillful.
“That’s how all your conversations usually go, Yone?”
Yone took off his shirt, leaving it on the backrest of the chair. The piece slid off Yone's arms, and the blonde couldn't help but look surprised. He was slender, but way more toned than it gave out through the social attire he was always wearing. Unconcerned, Yone answered.
“It’s definitely not the first time I have a meeting in a tub, that's for sure. Even in the literal sense of the word, an actual meeting. So, no big deal if we have ours here. I just needed to keep you aware of out schedule for the next weeks and of a trip I’ll have.”
“A meeting. Are you even hearing yourself?”
“Are you tempted, Kayn?”
“Speak for yourself. You’re hot, yes, but I can have a guy like you in a finger snap that won't be as annoying as you are. It’s just fun to watch you dance around me, ballerina.”
Neither of them is going to give up.
“Well, great. Because I really just want to chat.”
Kayn swallowed hard when he saw him unbuckling his belt, and he didn't know if it was relief or frustration that made him growl as Yone picked up his towel to put around his waist before unbuttoning his pants. He wouldn't be completely naked with him, making it clear that he wasn't directly proposing anything sexual, even though every move else of his was seething with provocative intent.
Kayn felt a certain urge to look down, but he kept staring at his face intently, even as his pants and boxers dropped to the floor and Yone stepped out of them. Nothing to be seen in his hip area, now that his towel was around it all.
The silence felt heavy amidst birds chirping to the near sunset and the light breeze pretending to soothe the heat. Meanwhile, Yone just walked calmly, he stepped up on the edge of the bathtub, and then he stepped in, one long, one slender leg after the other until he lowers his body and sinks all the way to his upper belly. The water was in a perfect temperature, not too cold, not too hot, enough for any dip to feel completely comfortable and natural.
Kayn clenched his teeth. Yone even moved like a snake. He slithered, slowly but decisively, not a single wasted movement. The towel drenched and glued to his thighs, and Kayn caught himself thinking again about how flexible he might be.
He sat down fairly apart of Kayn, almost across the bathtub, in a way that their feet could touch if they didn't avoid it, their arms weren't in their reach.
“So, like I was saying. I will be traveling on Tuesday. I'll leave my assistant, Irelia, to manage you for these two days. She knows your entire schedule and will do everything I do.”
"Everything? I don't think K’Sante will enjoy her this much. But, you know, a blowjob is a blowjob.”
It caught Yone by surprise and he chuckled, but then took a deep breath.
“I just want to know if I can trust you for two days. I've already brought you enough coke.”
“As long as I don’t have to stand a sight of Akali and Evelynn, it’s all great.” But Yone insisted on not confirming it.
What he was paying attention to was that he had obviously not brought enough cocaine. It was an amount enough for maybe three days, but implying that it would be the only amount that Kayn would have for an entire week didn't get him to complain or ask for more.
So he just went on.
“Irelia is quite competent, but she has little experience in the field. And I know that if you mistreat her, she won't tell me, so there's no point in using her to irritate me. She's sweet and discreet, she doesn't deserve to be terrorized. And when the...”
Yone stopped what he was saying when he saw that Kayn was twisting a grin like he was about to laugh.
“What?”
“The way you say it, it sounds like you’re telling your assistant to babysit Hannibal Lecter.” Kayn scoffed.
Yone chortled back and then sighed once more.
“You give me reasons.”
“I won't be any trouble for your apprentice, Yone, don't worry. Actually, if she’s nice, I’ll find a way for her to replace you. Expect us to be in cahoots.”
Yone was the one who scoffed now, spreading his arms along the backrest of the bathtub.
“Yeah, good luck with that. If you don't want to see Evelynn’s face you better stick with me.”
“A snake for a snake, I'm better off alone.”
“Anyway.” Yone went back to the conversation not to let it trail off. “Irelia won't ask you about anything, and even if she does, she also won't answer your questions.”
“So she doesn't make demands or questions? I already like her. If you were like that we could have worked better.”
“I'm sure we can still work this out.”
“I'm sure we can't.” looking away, Kayn reached for a small panel on the bathtub, pushing a small lever with his finger. The sound of a motor started softly, and the water jets from the whirlpool began to churn the water. "..oh, yeah, this...” Kayn moaned so obscenely that Yone felt a spasm. “This is so, so good.”
Their gazes locked and didn't drift away. Kayn's leg brushed lightly against Yone's, and the water jets at their backs seemed violent. He sighed deeply as Kayn released his head back and let out another guttural moan, on purpose, wanting to see him give in.
Which he wouldn't. He clenched his teeth.
“Well, are you going to keep listening to me or will you have a boner from water massage only? Maybe I should actually find you someone to have sex with, you truly look pent up. Do you prefer men, women or a third option?”
Kayn was back to staring at him from under his brows, looking both menacing and teasing.
“Anything goes for me. But I’ll pass. You, though, suddenly sounded so angry for someone who deliberately decided to take their clothes off and enter a bathtub with me. What happened, losing control already? Was your naked meeting a bad coked up idea?”
The worst part is, yes, he felt kind of angry, mostly because Kayn’s moans and for how much it all got to him. Throwing some water on his own face, Yone allowed it to distract him as he would continue.
“I just wanted to tell you that we have it all arranged with Senna for the music video, and as soon as I come back we’ll work on it and this is your first true appointment after the tour. We have to be in our best shape. It’s not your first rodeo, you know how it goes. But we have to have a really closed schedule. This can't take too long, too much of it is out already and we have to keep the public stoked about it.”
Even if he wouldn't admit, Kayn almost miss the beginning of the paragraph because he was accompanying a water drop that was running from Yone’s cheek all the way down his neck until reaching the bathtub again.
“Everything is running late and still you all allowed me some vacations.” Playing disinterested again, Kayn laughed. “You all must be scared shitless that I’ll go fucking nuts once and for all.”
Yone didn't agree nor deny, just went on.
“When I come back, then, you also might have to have some meetings with Akali. If you want to be more active in the production of your album, I’ll make sure you are the one who will make the calls.”
For a moment, that caught Kayn’s attention. It was always one second where he can dream before he realizes he's surrounded by hyenas. He sighed.
“It sounds interesting, but very empty for me. If I don't have anything ready the moment you start, you vultures are going to maim my fucking album again. And I still want another AMA to shove up my ass.”, he said, meaning one of the many American Music Awards he’s amounted so far.
“You should use a less pointy award for that. The Billboard Music Award should do less damage.”
The comment caught Kayn really by surprise. Picturing the image of the pyramidal transparent American Music Award and the microphone-shaped Billboard Music Award while pondering the insert-ability of both into his ass made him laugh truthfully.
“You suck,” Kayn said endearingly. He hated that it truly amused him.
Yone smiled softly at that.
It didn’t have to be this hard, did it? It was almost surreal any time that Yone could be sitting close to him without shouting, threats, violence, or even teasing. It could happen, couldn't it?
Just a fleeting thought.
“If you need any help with that, I can do it. Instruments, partituras, composition, lyrics, production… you name it
“You sometimes are less annoying than Akali as a producer. I’ll consider that. But aren't you a busy businessman?”
“You're the priority, always. Whatever we can do to make this work.”
“Yeah, whatever. Are we done with our meeting? Do you want to go for a swim?”
They had some more to talk about, yes, but seeing that Kayn wasn't just giving his back and leaving him alone as he always does made Yone feel grateful enough. He even asked if he wanted to join. Yone wasn't a person that enjoyed pools or just chilling around one, and even less if he’s feeling somewhat anxious, but he considered it heavily, at least for bonding. But they were both naked, that towel wouldn't be able to stay with him, and doing that was only indulging to carnal desire. He should know better.
“I have to go back to my office. There is way too much left for me to deal with from today only.”
“Whatever, then. Have fun with your contracts.” Shrugging Kayn got up, to walk to the edge of the bathtub, where he could jump to the pool.
Yone stared at that body casting a shadow upon him for a moment, framed by the ever increasing twilight. The strong muscles of his back, some scars slashing his otherwise smooth skin, water running from that ridiculously plump ass down his toned legs.
If Yone kept on staring or allowed himself to imagine, his body would probably respond in a very inconvenient way. So he looked away and said something else, only to finish.
“I’ll only travel next week, so for the week we’ll still talk some more. If you need me, you can call me anytime, you know that, right?”
“I’ll call whenever I miss you, daddy.” Everything about Kayn was ironic as he said the phrase, from voice to smile, and he dived into the pool to swim as far away as he could, making sure to submerge and play around enough not to be approached again.
Yone left, and Kayn found himself floating on the water, staring into the twilight sky, feeling as bored as he could be.
Maybe finding someone to have some fun with would actually be a good idea. He could call Jinx to see if any of her friends would want to come over for some nice amount of money. Maybe two girls, both who are into girls as well. Because if he gets bored, the two of them can at least have fun with each other.
He had to admit, it’s hard to get him interested at all nowadays, and Yone surely can rile him up. It’s entertaining, at the very least. And, at most, something else he doesn't want to admit.
Maybe tomorrow he could go to his studio to start working a little bit.
Chapter Text
Some time after Yone left Kayn’s house, Jinx snitched to him that Kayn was up for a little party with four of her friends. Four sounded excessive, but it amused Yone somehow, even though it was a little bit concerning. All Kayn’s blood tests also came clean for any STI, but he had no idea how much of this was out of luck or not. It shouldn't be much of his business, yet it made him worry a little bit about whether he’d need PrEP or not.
Also discriminative towards the friends of Jinx’s? Surely, and about that he really couldn't care any less.
In the end, what mattered was that he couldn't and wouldn't stop him, as it was harmless mostly. If Kayn wants to snort his coke off of the ass of some hookers, it at least could keep him inside the house and out of trouble, with everything communicated back to him.
So Yone would finish the work for the day and finally have some rest. Thinking about Kayn’s party annoyed him a bit more the more tired he got. He should be having some fun as well. What’s even the point at this time? He could do drugs and pills, but is it fun when he’s playing Russian Roulette with his own brain, trying to juggle a lot of substances not to get addicted to any, and in the end being barely sober at all?
Besides that, what he could do was always have really good sex. K’Sante is good. He is really good. He’s as hot as it gets. But there’s something about being good that doesn’t beat being raw.
Not in that sense, though.
It’s more about feeling instead of performing.
He can watch something, or read books. He does it quickly, perks of being insanely clever and knowing how to do speed reading; but is it enjoying when you’re swallowing it all up? Fuck books at this point, honestly. You can have an artificial intelligence to summarize it for you so that you can impress the old dudes it’s intended for, all of which will be dead soon and finally this shit will be over.
Sleeping well should be enough. He needed it. As all the previous drug had worn off, half a pill of Xanax would mellow him out enough, out of all anxiety and frustration. Not even these anguishes about what to do would reach him anymore, remembering him to forget it all. When he went to his own bathtub, the beach view meant very little, but still looked like he deserved it. He liked better the silver shine of the night than the golden one of the daylight as they all shimmered on the waves. Everything else was very far away.
As he stared into his own reflection, he noticed his face was finally free of any marks from Kayn having punched it, but he would have to keep on wearing some foundation to cover up the dark rings under his eyes. Thankfully, nothing properly reached him, and he could do some skin care and sink into his bed before he decided on something stupid.
He was able to wake up naturally, at almost eight, which was really surprising to him even for a Saturday. He reached out for his phone and everything was so calm that it felt a bit scary. Looking up a little bit, Irelia had taken care of everything and sent him the reports, probably trying to show that she’s able enough to be taken seriously for managing Kayn even if just for a while. She’ll soon be looking forward to her own things; Yone had always thought that she wanted to be managing dance groups, taking for her history.
Perfect. He was feeling rested, or as much a he can be in a long while. A bit of a heavy head from the medicine, nothing that some caffeine won’t help.
***
The bed took him over and he might never get out of it. Kayn breathed slowly and hoped that his body would decide to just stop doing it.
As expected, he had barely much energy to fuck anyone in the last night. And it wasn’t about anything physical, as the drug would certainly give him the drive he needed, but it was difficult to keep hard and even more to get to an orgasm anyway. Soon enough even their touch was too much, someone take them home and leave him alone.
He was tired of feeling on top of the world while so aware that it was dull. That none of those girls would look at him on the street if he was an average Joe in the subway. Some people did when he was just a scary dude with a lot of scars, badly dyed hair in funny colors and one red injured eye, yet they hardly cared enough to approach. When he was Rhaast only, but when it was what it took for him to be truly himself, because only his demons could protect him.
Just one person truly looked at him like he was really a star way before anyone else even knew his name.
Even more, it felt like digging deeper when he found himself so pathetic that he had to pay them for sex, when it was something he despised. Maybe this was the reason he could never properly have sex with a prostitute, even if he knew that specifically these ones were lucky enough to like their line of work, as much as one can.
That was also a good excuse for himself.
Everything was getting harder and harder every time he got bored, and he was very bored most of the time. Yet, at the same time, when he wasn’t bored, he was overwhelmed and about to snap, like he was while touring. It felt pointless to try to do anything about it, and it was hard to convince himself not to just let everything go and drag everyone along with him.
It was afternoon and he had denied lunch when his cell phone rang. He got up, but not to answer it. For some reason, as he does every day, he got out of bed. When he still had a star to follow, he could do everything with his eyes focused on it, without looking back, without minding where he put his feet. Now that he was the one at the top, there was nothing to aim for. All that was left for him to do was contemplate the shards and broken pieces of everything he trampled to get there, watching it with eyes incapable of even becoming turgid.
He stared at the rug next to his bed. He sat on the floor, ignoring how the phone rings clamored for his attention. He pulled the rug aside and faced the tiles.
The ringing on his phone stopped, only to return. Kayn clenched his fist and knocked weakly on the central tile with his knuckles. The sound was hollow. The tile was as firm as ever, never arousing suspicion. But Kayn knew what was in there. He threw the rug back, left his phone ringing behind and went for a shower.
It’s probably just Yone calling, and if he doesn’t answer, maybe his manager will come over. Being annoyed was still better than being bored. In one way or another, it’s just another day to bear, another hangover to deal with. He had better just eat something and do something to keep his mind busy.
***
A melodic sound of guitar strings spread throughout the first floor when Yone arrived at the mansion. Coincidentally or not, Kayn hadn't bothered to close the doors to his private studio, and soon, guided by the sound, Yone went there right after he had arrived. Just like Kayn would suppose, not answering his phone would lead Yone there unavoidably like a moth to a lamp.
Inside there, Kayn was biting a pencil and testing a purple guitar slung over his shoulder. The pedal was positioned on the floor in front of him, and the amplifier was on at medium volume. There was a stand for sheet music and lyrics and it really looked like Kayn belonged there.
Yone had barely walked in when Kayn turned to him.
"Hey, Yone," he said casually, as if he were any other person he didn't seem to hate entering that studio. "Wanna play a little bit?”
It made the manager stop in his tracks. That really wasn't the kind of greeting he expected, even if he didn't know exactly what he actually expected.
“What?”
“Yeah, I wanted to try some jams and you’re the golden musical prodigy here. Help me out, now.”, the tone was scornful, but it was an invitation after all.
It took Yone a moment, but he sighed and put his hands on his pockets.
“Sure. Jamming sounds fun. Do you have anything in mind?”
Kayn frowned, looking at Yone across from him with his slender fingers hovering over the keys.
“You’re in? Just like that?”
“Yeah, why not?"
“You’re always such a businessman.”
“It’s the weekend. I can do whatever I want today.” He walked towards the keyboard, even though his eyes diverted to the other instruments on the walls and behind glass doors. Kayn accompanied him with his eyes. Yone really looked like he was on a weekend. Even when he had seen him in less formal clothes, he still looked quite sober and professional. In that Saturday afternoon, he was wearing lighter colors, wearing a crisp white linen shirt paired with tailored khaki pants, brown loafers and the dark gold pair of sunglasses on top of his head, hair in a loose low ponytail. It all still looked annoyingly presumptuous, but the whole rich Californian man vibe was still a little bit less obnoxious than seeing him in a suit.
Not that he didn’t look hot as fuck in all if them. By then Kayn had already wondered why Yone had this look in him that could make him seem cooler than anyone around even if they are all wearing the exact same thing and saying the exact same bullshit.
“You’re free to do whatever and yet you are here? Don’t you have any friends?”
Yone stopped in front of the professional keyboard and shrugged, smirking at the singer.
“No, not really. You?”
Kayn scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“Fair enough.”
Shrugging, Kayn went back to playing something on his guitar. It was a very soulful riff, his fingers dancing across the strings, filling the room with a melodic groove, and Yone couldn't recognize it from anywhere, even when he had a remarkable hearing memory. It was either a new song or just an experimentation. So, fingers hovering on the keys, Yone closed his eyes for a moment and as the music flowed between them, he started to experiment as well, adding atmospheric notes that complemented his guitar work beautifully.
When Yone opened his eyes, Kayn was grinning at him in some kind of defiance. He gave him the hint that he was about to change the solo, his fingers soaring over the fretboard, and Yone accompanied him in a bluesy solo with jazzy flourishes.
Kayn understood what Yone had said about himself in such an arrogant tone before; he was surely not bluffing about being outrageously talented. Whatever Kayn could play and experiment with, like a kid in a playground, and Yone would follow him with the melody to turn anything into such powerful music. He grabbed his bottle of water and shook those thoughts off. As they were silent again, Kayn feared for some time that he would just start bragging or saying how he plays so much better than him or the entire world.
In Yone, there was this tingly feeling of excitement. It’s been a while since he allowed himself to just be creative, and whenever he did it it still felt like rebellion. Inside the silence that followed as Kayn was drinking his water, he felt his heartbeat pace rise a bit and smiled.
“This feels good. Come on, another challenge!” Yone winked at him, and Kayn wouldn't have the heart to deny even if he wanted, so they started over.
They locked into a groove, each musician feeding off the other's energy. Through their music they could communicate, exchanging glances and nods as they improvised and explored. They barely exchanged words if not to give each other some suggestions or ask for something specific. There wasn't much to be said, and so they didn’t. And when there wasn't anything to be said, there was also nothing to be interpreted or misinterpreted. There was nothing to imply, because music is very straightforward; there was nothing to hide, because music can be glaring. As the afternoon wore on, they delved into different styles and moods, from upbeat and funky to slow and contemplative. And when Kayn realized he was happy, his heart sank to his stomach.
The last time he felt this type of musical chemistry…
Suddenly he stopped, it was because it all started feeling way too intimate. Yone is talented and well trained. It isn't the same situation. Yet when the chords flow, it may sound the same. Whenever he shares this music experience with someone, it’s as close as he can believe from describing art and expressing the impossible to translate.
“I’m a bit hungry. I think it’s good for today.” Kayn said as he already walked to put the guitar away.
As the music stopped, Yone felt a little bit lost for a couple of moments. It felt like they were in such a flow that he didn’t have to think about anything else, and he wasn’t even able to do so. Creating was so good, it felt so true, and he wasn’t performing anything. He testament to their musical chemistry and creativity, something so close to home and so easy to slip through their fingers.
“That was awesome, Kayn. I had so much fun. It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, it was cool. And we do have some interesting samples to work with.” Kayn tried not to express how good that had been to him.
Yone picked his phone and checked the time. It was already seven p.m. and he had a few annoying texts to answer. Time absolutely flew like he hadn’t experienced in a while. Last night he was thinking about having fun, and this afternoon he spent this one like that.
He didn’t want to leave. His eyes lingered on the keys of the keyboard, and Kayn was about to leave the studio when he stopped and sighed.
“Do you want to eat something?”, he asked as he looked back.
Yone smiled at him and walked closer.
“Can I take you to dinner instead? You’ve been inside the house for a while now, haven’t you?”
It didn’t sound good to Kayn, but it sounded better than being alone.
***
The way Kayn walked around the lobby almost made Yone laugh. Even though he was worried about getting the singer out of the house, his deeply troubled stance seemed a little too caricatured. He looked like he was surrounded by rabid dogs, even though all the people in the fancy restaurant did when they saw him was look up or smile.
The whole drive all the way to the restaurant had been very quiet. Both of them were on the separated backseat and it is possible to be completely in privacy in there, no contact with the driver. Yet, for some reason, Kayn had opened the communication and left it open, probably because he didn’t want to be alone with Yone in there, or he just didn’t want to have any kind of private communication with him at all. He was leaning on the door and looked straight ahead through the window.
The luxurious surroundings were ones Yone was acquainted with, and the ones they wished to experience one last time. Mirrors framed in gold leaf reflected the beauty of the room, creating a sense of endless opulence, and so did the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, which had their prisms refracting light into tiny shimmering rainbows as artificial light came through the lamps themselves. At the heart of this scene there was their breakfast table, an oasis with tables draped in crisp, white linens, fine bone china and sterling silver flatware gleaming beneath the soft glow of the chandeliers. The splashes of color to the otherwise pristine beige and white decor were the exotic fruits, meticulously sliced and arranged with precision; crystal glassware, tall, slender flutes with sparkling Champagne that meant very little right now.
His security guards were near the door in case of any eventuality. They didn't get too close to their table, on Yone's orders and so as not to embarrass the other customers.
The maître escorted them to their tables, greeted while explained a bit about services and the menus were handed to them.
“You talk shit about my parties, but comes and pays an absurd amount of money for a plate of food.”
It was the first thing Kayn had said ever since they got out of the house. Yone nodded.
“There is a difference between sophistication and abuse, Kayn. You can allow yourself the first. Besides, no one will annoy you in here.”
Kayn looked around the table. Forks and cover plate on the left, knives, glasses and spoons on the right, dessert cutlery above the plate. As soon as the maître d' walked away, Kayn and Yone took the cloth napkin off the plate and placed it on their laps.
“An English service.” Kayn looked around discreetly. “Let's see... So in this case I suppose I should always use the fork in my left hand, stab the food with the fork tines facing down, and I can even use the knife to help position the food. Am I right?"
“According to European convention, exactly.” Yone looked up from his menu and smiled weakly.
“You must be a little crazy to bring me to a place like this.”
“Would you rather have lunch at Burger King and have one fan after another chasing you? Here we won’t have the shack you fear so much.”
“At least I can eat properly.” Kayn shook his head and looked back at his menu. “I’ll have the shrimp cocktail.”
“It’s a good choice. Would you like me to ask for the wine list?”
“I don’t know shit about it. Choose something for us yourself. Say what you want, I’ll still get you to eat fried chicken straight out of the bucket while you sit on the floor.”
Yone had an incredulous expression, while the singer continued staring at the menu in his hands as if he hadn't said anything. Until they decided on their orders, they didn't talk about much else. But as soon as they did, Yone intertwined his fingers and began to explain what he was going to do. However, the entire part where he described his trip was a rehearsed story. He had said he was going to Connecticut, and, with the skill of someone who always did this, he had invented reasons that were too monotonous for Kayn to become interested and ask questions.
The shrimp cocktail was positioned in the center of his table. Yone reached for the silverware of fish while Kayn caught one of them in his hand. He smiled like he didn't care and bit into his shrimp. He gestured to Yone as if to say go on , and with a calm expression, Yone spoke again, talking about matters on the recording of the music video.
Yone was speaking confidently until his gaze moved away from Kayn, stopping on something immediately behind the singer.
"Excuse me, sir?" A shaky, feminine voice could be heard behind Kayn's shoulder. Yone had seen a middle-aged woman with a helpless look. “Excuse me, Mr. Shieda Kayn?”
Yone almost swallowed hard when he saw the withering look that formed in Kayn's eyes upon hearing the sentence. Before Kayn turned his back to face her, Yone already spoke, as politely as he could, to her.
“Sorry, ma'am, but this really isn't a good time. We don’t want to be rude, but Kayn is dealing with matters-”
Kayn had turned his back, but it wasn't the woman he was looking at; instead, he had his eyes in a girl that was almost hiding behind her body. She had curly wood-colored hair, wore a white dress and gave him a frightened look.
"Is she your daughter?" Kayn interrupted Yone's speech, finally turning to the woman.
“I, I didn’t mean to bother you, I’m sorry.” She seemed even more nervous, pointing at her daughter. “But yes, this is my daughter, Rachel, she is a big fan of yours.”
“Everything okay, Rachel?” Kayn looked away from the woman and extended his hand to the girl to shake her hand. He didn't smile, but his voice was relaxed. "How old are you?"
The girl took a shaky step forward and held out her hand. Kayn squeezed it gently, and it was cold.
“E-Eleven.”
“I like your hair. Maybe your mom will allow you to dye it pink and purple like mine.” He winked at her and she laughed, nervously. The mother scoffed, saying ‘alright, alright!’, and it caused Kayn a chortle. He turned his gaze to his mother again.
“Do you want to take a picture of us so I can go back to dinner with my manager?”
“Of course, of course, could I?” Rachel's mother was shaking as she held up her cell phone. Kayn nodded and turned his chair so Rachel could approach. Kayn smiled crookedly at the photo and weakly held the girl's shoulder while a flash filled the air for an instant. Rachel's eyes were still a little wide, and Yone watched the scene completely silent. He was just certain that the girl's smile in the captured photo would be something bizarre, so open it was. She was ecstatic.
“Sorry for the inconvenience, thank you very, very much, Mr. Kayn.” The woman put away her cell phone and laid the hand on the shoulder of her daughter.
"No problem." Kayn turned his chair back toward the table and didn't say goodbye. Yone waved weakly at them and, without her mother being able to contain her, Rachel jumped of joy near the restaurant's exit and started pretty much shrieking in emotion, which was almost… endearing to see.
“You were saying…?” Kayn rested his body on the chair and shrugged.
“That was really nice of you, Kayn.” Yone bit into the shrimp he had on his fork.
“She was just a little girl.”
Yone took a sip of his drink and placed the glass back on the spotless tablecloth.
"You like kids?"
“I don’t know any, so I can’t really tell. ”
“I didn't know even with my own childhood, but I still know that children irritate me.”
“I think we’re just jealous of them, of being able to be children. You must be a little Mozart, playing the piano since you were four.”
“What I lacked in genius like Wolfgang’s, I made up for in very severe classes.”
“I don't remember how old I was when I first picked up a guitar. There was a time when I was even taught, but everything went down the drain and I had to study alone, either on the school bleachers or locked in the basement at home. That basement was the best and worst place of my life.” Kayn had his eyes on the plate, but then turned to Yone. “It was because of that guitar that I made it into Heartsteel, for sure.”
“Your first band?”
Kayn put another mouthful of food in his mouth, and perhaps took too long chewing it.
“Yeah. It was an old guitar, you know? The body had a sharp drawing to it, it looked like a scythe after I changed it a bit. It looked sick.”
If Kayn didn't want to elaborate it, he wouldn't insist for now. He couldn't afford to piss him off some days before his trip.
“Did you buy it?”
“I couldn’t even buy my lunch when I was a kid, Yone. I stole it from to the guy who was with my mother.”
Is Kayn really talking about his family?
“Was he a musician, too?” Yone kept the questions very simple. Yet, Kayn's laughter was acid.
“That piece of shit was a loan shark, he had a lot of shit. He must have stolen it from someone who couldn’t afford to pay the loan.”
“That sounds tough. It must take a toll, to be exposed to all this while so young. You had to be strong.”
Kayn stared at Yone. That motherfucker born into a lucky star didn’t even know how pathetic he looked while trying to be condescending.
“Fuck you. I can’t do shit with your fucking pity.”
“I’m not pitying you. I was just trying to-”
Kayn clenched his teeth, trying to control his breath, and gestured for him to stop talking.
Fuck, he just wanted to enjoy some company. That can’t ruin it, something this stupid can’t ruin it all. So he stared at Yone and, very serious, asked him something really honestly.
“If I ask you to stop talking, will you do it?”
Yone wouldn’t need to answer, because at that moment, the waiter approached with the serving cart and they chose what they would be served.
“Whenever you want us to talk, just let me know.”
And it was the last thing Yone said, as he actually respected his wish. They had a very silent dinner, and for some reason, albeit uncomfortable, it really wasn’t that kind of embarrassing silence. It wasn’t like the silent dinners at his family house, or the awkward spaces of quietness when he’s having a meal with someone utterly uninteresting and he still has to milk something out of the conversation because they are interesting for business at least. There, it was just filled with so many feelings and weird sensations that none of them really could put a finger on what was it that they were feeling after all. But, after all, was Yone cherished the most was that Kayn wasn’t running away from him. At most, he is on his phone for a long while, writing something down or, more probably, texting someone.
It was good enough for him, for now. He was sure by then that Kayn had hated it all, but he felt happy with that day nevertheless. It was the best he could hope for them both, after they started it off in such a bad way.
He really had no idea how important consent and respecting limits was for Kayn, even if it could sound ironic.
Outside the restaurant, the night is draped in soft, golden lights shining through landscaped gardens surrounding the establishment. Tall, slender palm trees sway gently in the night breeze, their fronds whispering secrets to the starlit sky above. In front of the polished double doors framed by ornate pillars, embraced by the warm breeze of the night, Yone and Kayn waited for the driver to bring the car.
As Kayn saw it, he turned to Yone, finally, expressionless.
“When we get in the car, you give the driver your address, ok?”
Yone frowned, surprised to have that ad the first sentence after the silence, and also by the assumption.
“Thank you for offering the ride, but my car is at your place. I have to go there first.”
“No.” Kayn was looking ahead now, but he started grinning. “You’ll leave your car there. For ransom.”
Yone crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes and turning to him, a shit-eating grin on his mouth now.
“Why the fuck are you planning on hijacking my car, Kayn?”
“Because even though the meal was really amazing, I’m so fucking bored by all this fancy shit. You probably don’t even like it. You took me to your boring date, and I’ll take you to mine. I’ll leave you at your place so that you can get ready and dressed. While we were at the dinner, I had people order us VIP tickets and get a helicopter ready in two hours. You’ll have to go to my place, even if it is to retrieve your car. But I think you’re going with me without me having to blackmail you.”
Releasing his arms, Yone smirked.
“And where am I going, then?”
“Space Groove, in Vegas. I’m taking the musical prodigy to the best electronic party place he's ever been to."
Chapter Text
That same afternoon, Kayn had thought about that, though elegant, Yone looked generic when he was dressed as the average stylish rich guy. So, when Yone got out of the car that went to pick him up for the party, Kayn had to laugh when he saw himself in this movie-like scene of the nerdy main character reveals their princess glow up somehow. Right now, Yone was an EDM princess of some sorts, for sure, as he stepped out while wearing some comfortable-looking boots paired with a long skirt with a slit all the way to his upper thigh. There was a tight tank top under a loose coat in light, transparent fabric, and a small, fluorescent cross-body bag with a small water bottle attached to it. His hair is in a bun again and the yellow sunglasses are on top of his head once more. Yes, that’s a rave outfit if he has ever seen one, and he hasn’t seen anyone rocking one like that before.
Yone was painfully cool. That bastard had no business being this cool.
The only thing dissonant in these was the black suitcase he picked from inside the car and approached Kayn. Unaware that he was being thought of the same way, Yone was thinking how damn good the singer looked wearing a cropped top, baggy pants and sneakers, a backpack hanging on one shoulder, leaning on a pillar near the driveway and arms crossed like he just doesn’t care at all; but still he is in front of the house waiting for him.
“I was thinking you were chickening out, but someone here looks like it’s not their first rodeo.” Kayn made sure to check Yone out in front of him, the whole act making it seem like he’s just provoking. His manager chuckled, then reached out for his crossbody bag to pick something inside.
“I’m still so dumbfounded that I'm going to goddamn Vegas. You’re crazy, you know that, right?”
“It’s what makes me charming.”
“That’s hard to deny.” After picking something inside his bag, Yone shrugged and reached for Kayn’s wrist, for him to show his palm. As soon as he did, he left some pills on his hand. “Take these.”
Kayn looked at his palm and frowned.
“If someone in the party offered me pills I wouldn’t even have asked what they are before taking them. From you, it makes me more suspicious than from a stranger.
“It’s magnesium, Vitamin C and some supplements and antioxidants else. I just know you’ll be rolling with ecstasy or molly so let's reduce damage.”
Everything he mentioned had some kind of help for MDMA consumption, either for teeth grinding and muscle tension or with toxicity in general.
“You’re such a mom.” Chuckling, Kayn took the pills and swallowed them all, accepting Yone’s water bottle to help swallowing them. “You should take some as well, you never know.”
Shaking his head, Yone sighed.
“Already did.”
With that, Kayn laughed.
“I knew that deep down you knew how to party.” He placed his hand on Yone’s lower back to guide him to the grass field near the house. “Come on, the helicopter is waiting already.”
When Yone was walking, Kayn right beside him - and still touching him for some reason - he was rethinking all of the things he had already brooded about.
Space Groove was safe, right? As far as he’s concerned and he’s searched and like Kayn had confirmed, it was the type of exclusive nightclub where phones aren't allowed in most areas, so you can imagine some crazy shit could happen, and with celebrities involved.
When he was packing his small suitcase, he was thinking very hard about how he shouldn't go. If Kayn wants to go, he could just do it, he can't babysit him all the time. Or, if he does think he should accompany him, he at least shouldn't be thinking he’s up for a party as well.
Yet, there was something hard to shake off, mostly because he didn't want to. Kayn was taking him there. Him, specifically, because he told him about his rebellion in a very strict family devoted to classical music, and that he liked to sample and produce electronic music at that time. Kayn was a remarkably attentive person, and he decided to pay attention to him.
That was why Yone left the house and that was why he was embarking the helicopter. Because he wanted to have fun as well, with someone with whom he had already spent an amazing Saturday.
And he’d be damned, probably, but that’s a problem for Monday Yone.
When they embarked, the pilot and the co-pilot had talked to them about certain procedimental stuff while they were getting to their seats. They would be by themselves in a light gray cabin with four individual passenger seats, the communication available if they needed it, but only if activated. Yone had sat beside Kayn, who just spread his legs and slouched while nodding uninterested to the two-man crew. As soon as they were locked inside and finally alone, Kayn grabbed his backpack once more and picked one wine bottle from inside.
“Alright, let’s get this started. I've been sober for way too much today already.”
Yone quietly watched as Kayn also picked a wine bottle opener and opened a thousand-dollar syrah wine from France's Rhone Valley and drank straight from the bottle like it’s a cheap liquor someone stole from their dad’s bar, stuck inside a paper bag and gulped down while sitting on the sidewalk.
Kayn offered him the bottle, which he refused with a nod and a hand gesture, more out of a reflex than having thought through whether he wanted it or not. The singer kept on insisting, arm stretched.
“Come on, I picked this one just for you, princess. I'm a distilled beverages type of guy. Sorry I forgot the crystal glasses, did my uneducated ass offend you?”
Yone shook his head and snorted. Even if his tone was scornful, Kayn might have really chosen wine because he thought he may like it, and this shit was so endearing in the end. Why is Kayn trying to appease him? He accepted it and also drank straight from the bottle.
It’s been a while since he last drank from a bottle like that. That was an amazing wine, peppery, smokey and full of decadent blueberry and plum, made to be sipped in a very specific fashion. Doing it all wrong with Kayn felt right somehow.
“That’s more like it.” Kayn looked satisfied with it.
“Thanks for choosing the wine, I do like it. But I also like cognac, too, and brandy.”
“And when you’re not trying to impress anyone?”
“I heat up sake in the microwave like a complete menace. I think I just want to be offensive against my culture at this point.”
Kayn laughed, accepted the bottle back and started telling him about the first time he did lean, some stories of parties and shows going on and off.
Yone noticed that he had some stories with some people which would make his voice turn a bit softer while talking. They were probably from his first band, but Kayn never said any names and usually diverted the subject before having to say anything at all about these people. And Yone didn't ask, not anymore. If he wanted to, he would tell him. And, in the end, he will soon get everything he needs to know in order to help him, straight from Zed.
On his turn, Yone talked about some things he did the last time he was in Vegas for some business meetings that would end up with people getting wasted, doing embarrassing things and cheating on their wives. Kayn was always annoying him about how flawless he was and how he never did anything wrong, the whole sarcastic tone making it clear that he didn't buy it. He would say that he knew Yone had it in him; and the way he looked at him felt like he wanted to death to be able to see Yone all messed up. And yeah, that was exactly what was going through Kayn’s mind after half a bottle of wine. Barely enough to get tipsy, but surely enough to forget he’s depressed and start getting bold.
Yone was so perfect it was infuriating, so he felt like ruining him.
It took them less than one hour to fly to Las Vegas, being welcomed by the ever so glittering night lights as they were talking about the music they love, hate or just enjoy. Yone had just gotten rockstar Kayn to admit he liked K-pop when they started descending, and Kayn was doing everything for Yone to confess his guilty pleasures in music as well. They disembarked and Kayn kept on nagging, which would only stop when he started getting interested in the hotel they entered and the party they had to attend.
Everything between them was really lighthearted, they were both mellowed enough and it was already midnight when they arrived at their hotel. As they entered, the gigantic room, with chandeliers, elegant fountains and big statues seemed to make everyone small and the music, the talking, the sounds of the slot machines, it took over their perception, a lot like nothing else truly existed, at least not a life where they had to be responsible. Vegas was such a colorful city and at night it seemed to light up even more at night. Feathers, neon and red carpets everywhere, sounds of slot machines in the room beside independently of where they were, and the kindest and most solicitous and discreet hotel employees ever. The sensation was that they'd help him bury a body and they wouldn't ask questions. All the times he went there, the place had something surreal, oneiric surrounding everywhere, Yone had to admit. To him, it wasn't a high class travesty of a a plastic city in the middle of a tiny town, where random people on cargo shorts play pretend and roam around getting wasted in casinos gilded in fake gold and surrounded by fake marble statues interspersed with gambling addicted old people rotting in front of machines all day. For him, the lights weren’t only from the flash of cameras, the people there weren't only paparazzi waiting for a good picture or a few words from them, that place was special, because there was more money and the statues could be truly marble. It looked amazing and both knew that it wasn't only to him. It was a party all year and now would be one to them. They had one presidential suite with two bedrooms to crash and their luggage would be taken there already. All they had to do was go to the party, in an adjacent building with direct access from where they were.
Space Groove wasn’t a place for hardcore techno parties, to begin with. They had mostly some smooth four-on-the-floor beat and a typical tempo of 120-130 beats per minute, as electro house is already some sort of rebirth of 1970s disco, even with very contemporary songs that don't have the same temporal vibe. The whole theme was some kind of futuristic space style along with disco aesthetic, with mirror disco balls and illuminated dance floors. There was a whole experience, from areas with calm and beautiful starry decorations to rooms where there’s such a psychedelic setting that the colorful walls can make you dizzy even without hallucinogens. Again, it was one of the most exclusive nightclubs in the entire country, since they couldn’t afford to be just anywhere. They would do better with some place that has a long waiting list to enjoy - apparently not for Kayn, however - and keeps phones on the entrance, not allowing for pictures.
They entered the panoramic elevator to go downstairs and cross to the nightclub, and Kayn brought his attention to the big pockets of his baggy pants. Yone was looking at the night lights for a moment, and he didn't see him picking something inside.
“Open your mouth.”
Suddenly, Yone found himself corralled in the corner, as Kayn was really close. He pressed his back against the glass walls of the elevator.
“Why?”, he frowned, heart suddenly racing.
Kayn showed that his index fingertip was covered in a transparent, whitish powder with some slightly bigger rocks, not bigger than pinheads.
“Molly. I’m not doing this sober, as you knew already. You need to roll with me or I'll have to do your dose as well. Come on, baby. Are you afraid?”
Frowning, Yone seized Kayn’s wrist firmly. Looking into his eyes, he allowed that finger inside his mouth, the fingertip touching his tongue and making him frown at the bitter taste of the powder. Tiny rocky pieces slid on his tongue, getting bitterer; yet, his eyes were locked on Kayn’s defiantly. Kayn watched as Yone’s lips closed around his finger and felt as the wet, soft touch of his tongue on his skin, so sensitive against his calloused fingertip from the guitar. A couple of seconds after Kayn drew back his hand, a bit faster than necessary, he was still a bit shaken.
“Argh, I forgot how bad this tastes.” Yone said, licking his lips, as if he hadn’t done anything this absurd.
Fuck. What the fuck is he doing? Kayn closed his hand in a fist, the feeling of his still moist finger lingering in his perception. Doing the molly himself with that finger now felt way too intimate instead of just gross as it should have.
Meanwhile, Yone reached for his small bag across his body and picked two lollipops from inside, offering one to Kayn. After unwrapping his, Kayn licks the lollipop Yone gave to him, bites the stick and Yone noticed his tongue swirling around the round candy.
Yone knew they were doomed, but thankfully they arrived in the nightclub and everything is too loud for him to care.
Passing the entrance there’s a nice lounge area that looks like a planetary, some people probably tripping while laying on rugs and cushions on the floor and looking at the glowing images of planets and stars and space stuff casted on the orbed ceiling, the muffled music from the other rooms in a deaf reverb. There were also the open bar waiters preparing colorful drinks that shone in dark light, water and electrolytes in old 70’s soda machines that weren’t charging any money. While nothing had kicked in yet, Yone was checking everything he could care about; where there was medical aid if needed, where the bathrooms were and that he needed to grab something to drink. As soon as he got some water for himself and a purple Gatorade for Kayn, the singer grabbed him by the wrist and laughed.
“You better relax. Show me you still got some dance moves, come on.”
He pulled Yone by the wrist and he allowed himself to be dragged. Kayn had such an energy he just isn't used to. It wasn't the first singer or artist he had managed, not at all. Nothing about that was a surprise, yet everything was, somehow, at the same time. He was just a little bit too much in everything, and instead of just feeling overbearing right now, it was mostly exciting, some kind of excitement he had been craving for so long. He allowed his hand to slip into Kayn’s big one, feeling the calloused touch grasp his own. He’s truly allowing himself to be guided, to be taken; and that was when the doors of the main dance floor area were opened, he didn't have room in his mind to think anymore. The music was deafening, the lights were everywhere even though the place was dark, there were people dancing in cages and poles and professional dancers dressed in shiny clothes swinging flags and neon paraphernalia. Inside, people were dancing, drinking, kissing, and it’s either the best place in the world or straight up a messy hell, it only depends on how you’re feeling.
And he was feeling good, he was feeling free.
He had to dance whether he wanted it or not, and, again, he’d be damned, but he really wanted to dance.
It would take them basically nothing to get comfortable dancing together. Kayn didn't care the least and both were mostly trying to dare each other. So they just faked it for five minutes before the whole feeling took over and they were just having fun.
There wasn't much to be said at this point that the body couldn't and wouldn't.
And after about forty minutes, something else would start bubbling inside them. Something making their skin hotter and more sensitive, their breaths deepen and their heartbeats faster, and somehow deep. Although their reason is clear, the inhibitions are lower, and they are on their roll. Something they would experience smoothly throughout this time.
At a certain point, some people allowed one of the dance poles free, and it was Kayn’s chance to grab one.
“What the fuck are you doing?” But Yone was laughing, and he noticed that the lights flickered in his sight. He was starting to feel it all, all through him.
Kayn didn't mind, way too lost in his own deep heartbeats. He was strong enough to pull himself up in his arms, but he wasn't able to lock his legs around the pole to lift himself up.
“It’s the pants!” Yone warned, loud, to be heard through the music. “You don't have enough grasp with them. It has to be skin.”
“Oh, so you can pole dance, too?” Kayn just dropped his body to the side and remained tilted towards his manager while grabbing the pole with one hand.
Yone shrugged, and Kayn laughed once more, releasing the metal bar and coming closer again.
“Fuck off. Come here! Put these toned thighs to work, then.”
Yone taking his sunglasses off to put them inside his bag felt like a challenge. He leaned in to speak to his ear, as they wouldn't be heard otherwise if he doesn't yell.
“Toned? You’ve been checking them out?”
Kayn accepted the unsaid dare and didn't back out: he took his sunglasses off as well and put them in his pocket.
“Of course. Look at the slit on this thing. The shorts underneath aren’t much bigger than panties. You're just fucking with me at this point.”
With that teased laughter bubbling inside Yone, he stepped towards the pole, stretched his arm and winked to Kayn, giving a small turn before swiftly seizing it better. His arms would ease the movement so much it wouldn't look like he jumped as much as he floated, and he turned in the air to lock the pole between his thighs, spinning softly a few times while lowering easily.
When he stopped, he placed his feet on the floor and still standing, it looked like he weighed nothing. His body turned to Kayn, his back against the cold metal. He lifted one hand above his head and called Kayn closer with the other, her body in slow waves, hips easing from one side to the other, to find Kayn’s eyes, with dilated pupils, locked in a haze onto him.
Yone was indeed so perfect it was outrageous.
There, Yone had nothing of the boring businessman vessel he tried to wear as a shield, or that his parents might have forged on him. He danced like an angel and looked like an angel, one that invited him to dance along, whether he is worthy of it or not. Yet, the peculiar warmness in the jades of Yone’s darkened eyes, his body all smooth at sight moving so naturally provocative, he knew all he had to do was to get closer and give it a try.
One step, another, and Kayn grabbed the pole with one hand. But Yone had been with his back against it, so he was basically inside Kayn’s arms. What was worse, Kayn’s arm wrapped around his narrow waist, and he just let his own hips loosen enough not to stop or spoil the rolling of his as he kept dancing. His eyes quickly ran up and down the shine of the lights in all the metal and he cogitated possibilities, trying not to stare into Yone’s eyes or it would be hard not to give in.
He wanted Yone to do so. He wanted him to surrender.
And Yone felt like he might. They were so ridiculously close and Kayn felt like the sun, too bright, too hot. How could someone be this intense? What was it about Kayn that made him forget he was supposed to be thinking?
He couldn't lean in, not there, not to show him how much he wants to have him. He was almost shuddering and there was barely anything else to be done but make out at this point and they were aware of it. The skirt that Yone was wearing seemed to slide perfectly over his skin, as if it's draining on his shapes like a liquid. Kayn hovered around him like he was both preying and hallowing him; again his hand was on his waist, sliding to rest on his hipbones and feel them swaying.
Their chemistry was fiery, blazing. Undeniable.
Trying to catch his breath, Yone looked away.
“Come on, let’s not draw this much attention to ourselves.” he held Kayn’s arm and stepped aside to walk out of his relentless gaze, though not breaking physical contact. He held him by his arm to guide him to a corner of the room, and as he did so he couldn't help but caressing Kayn’s skin, sometimes getting lost in the shapes of his tattoos under flickering lights when he looked at them. Once nearer a corner, he reached out for the bottle he had attached to his bag and offered it to Kayn. While Kayn was drinking, Yone pulled the hair band and let loose his hair, making Kayn almost choke on his water and his whole world dim in comparison. Yone closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair, combing with his fingers, lost in the good feeling if it and back to dancing. In the middle of the pulsing, colorful heat, he still smelled fresh like cedar and eucalyptus, making him step closer.
When Yone turned to him, the white, straight, cascading hair was stroking his shoulders. As he looked at Kayn, every single thing in that face told the most amazing story, and he was way too shallow to navigate them. Making him gasp, though, Kayn buried his face in the curve of his neck, their bodies suddenly one against the other as they are somehow still dancing. A dance was the whole excuse they needed, and it wasn't a lie when they really can't stop moving, when their bodies sway, when their feet step here and then there. Kayn’s body emanated heat, and Yone seized his waist, dragging his fingers across his back as the music guided every movement of their bodies. Kayn could hear Yone’s heavy breathing and it made him roll his eyes, pushing his hips further. Gasping Yone felt Kayn’s whole body pulsating, the legs locked in between his own, the hand he had on his chest, and the crotch pressed against his own. Kayn gasped for air as he tossed his head back, and Yone dropped his chin to his chest in that entrancing, unquiet exhaustion. Their lips aligned, their chests were exploding in feelings and that was it, way too late, already, and always too soon. They wouldn't be able to blame each other, since no one knew who made the first move. Kayn kissed Yone in the same way Yone kissed Kayn, in the same center of the universe made of them both only. Nothing was too much now, and, too high on each other and too high on molly, under space decoration, all of their feelings were supernovas inside their chests, shooting whole bursting stars of feelings and entire galaxies of emotions.
Kayn threw his arms around Yone’s shoulders, feeling like that had been the happiness he’s been searching after losing the one person who’s ever loved him.
Yone’s hands clung to Kayn’s waist and roamed up his back to mark his own, finally something inside his hands had meaning, and he prayed to be blinded by how much Kayn outshines him.
And they kissed shamelessly as if they owned the world, and with enough money, that’s as close as it gets to doing so.
Chapter 12
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Feeling his back hitting against a wall and the kiss breaking for a moment, Yone’s consciousness emerged from a long dive when he didn't even realize he had sunk that deep. It was more as if the sea waves soaked the hot sand slowly, without bursting, but most definitely would drench him completely. It was natural for this feeling to just embrace him like that, when he was literally being hugged. The warm body of Kayn’s was attached to his as if he needed his heat to survive, as if they could both freeze in the middle of a dance floor in Vegas if they were apart for even a second. It wasn't supposed to make sense, in the end, not when the music only isn’t louder than their heartbeats and they are rolling hard. Everything was simply their heads diving into metaphors because inside the kiss felt like an idyllic place, dreaming consciously, they could go delirious with each hint of skin they get to touch bare skin directly, to the point that soft fabric would feel itchy.
They were making out. Fuck, they are making out, and hard. Yone was ragingly horny, even if in that situation he couldn't get properly hard that easily, which in that moment was for the better. The gleam in Kayn's eyes was a flicker of fire; he demanded and begged Yone for anything, and inched closer again to go back to kissing him. Still feeling drowsy and a little groggy, Yone leaned back, on the wall, away from Kayn’s touch, and breathed deeply in and out while holding his arms.
“Yeah, okay, we shouldn't be doing this here.” he couldn't find the strength to get himself out of Kayn’s arms. Also, he could only be heard because Kayn was really that close to him.
A bit confused, Kayn looked into his eyes and scrutinized his expression as much as he could under colorful lights. Oh, that was paranoia if he had ever seen it. Let’s bring this down quickly before it sets in.
“No big deal, come on. Don't you trust yourself sober? You wouldn't be here if you didn't know it was safe and that no one would be able to record anything.”
“Maybe I just really wanted an excuse to have fun with you.” Yone confessed, and Kayn smiled, which calmed the other down immediately. He was suddenly vulnerable for the first time in a long time, and it felt like Kayn welcomed it.
“And aren't we having fun? Let’s go to the hotel room. I'm dying to get out of my itchy clothes. Come with me, I still want you.”
And the beginning of a bad trip for Yone was averted that easily, as once more he allowed himself to be guided, this time out of the main dancing area.
And I want you, too, he thought, even though it was too late to actually answer now.
The moment they opened the door and it closed behind them, Yone even felt a bit dizzy, but took a needed deep breath. They were back to the lounge area, where the sound wasn't beating inside their bodies, but muffled and more distant.
Yeah, he was having the night of his life, he had so much fun, yet right now he wanted to get the hell out of there, and so they did, without even having to talk about that, Kayn guiding the way even when they weren't holding hands anymore. They put on their sunglasses again because the lights were too bright and annoying now, and walked side by side with too much arousal inside their minds for them to talk or do something else.
It was just when they were at the elevator that they were finally alone again, they listened to only each other’s deep breaths while dots of light flickered. Each inhale was too much and every exhale provoked them, and all it took was one glance aside for them to be kissing again. It was like a spark in a room full of fuel.
The kiss went on, just as possessive and intense, and Kayn ran his hands down Yone’s back to grab his ass and the tiny moan that he let out made Kayn want to wreck him. He would really think his blood was flowing in his veins faster than the helicopter that took them there to that insanity. The manager hasn't had the time to even breathe since it all began - everything, not just there. Each time they were together it was like a shot through the veins; immediate, intense, feverish.
They stepped out of each other’s embrace at the same time when reaching their floor, as it startled them; yet there was nobody to meet, everything was theirs, and when they saw that there wasn't anyone left to witness them, it was hard to convince themselves to keep their hands off of each other when kissing felt like the most delicious thing in the world. Yone used the card to unlock the suite and dim dark gold lights were turned on to cast that sophisticated light into the high-end decoration, in sumptuous cream marble. Right before then there was enough room for an entire party, wide sofas with fluffy white throws, the counter of a bar stretching for a space enough for ten stools. Around them, several works of abstract art and ahead, behind the bar, a two-story wall made of glass through which you could see the night landscape and the moonlight.
Entering, Kayn took off his sunglasses, already kicked off his shoes and took off his socks as well, moaning at how pleasurable it felt and making Yone notice he was grinding his teeth because he wanted to do it more. He declared that he needed music urgently and would deal with it, leaving everything else aside.
Yone took off his sunglasses as well and left anything else from jacket to bag and everything else in his pocket aside. He looked around for a while and then crouched to take off his shoes, a bit more complicated to take his boots off, while smooth electronic music started playing everywhere, loud enough to make them comfortable while rolling, but still enough to talk and not burst through the doors for even a Vegas nightclub hotel to call them out for it. Right when Yone was sighing at the pleasurable sensation of finally stepping on cold marble after his feet were stuck inside those boots, he saw Kayn offering him his hand.
“Come with me, there’s something I want to show you.”
And yet once more, Yone allowed himself to be dragged, Kayn’s hand in his now holding deliberately, fingers hooked on his, every texture of his rough hand bringing Yone shivers. They walked to the balcony, being greeted by the glimmering night lights and a sight to the Vegas ferris wheel that could be enjoyed from their own private marbled infinity pool.
Yone approached the pool, lost in thought. He was enough of a rich person, by all means, even for Los Angeles’ standards. He deals with millions of dollars inside a board room, his body only sees clothes with at least four digits in the price tag and he ended up hardly even eating anything under the hundreds. Yet, there was still more to money than he could have. And Kayn had it.
Usually, it isn’t even that tempting. There comes a point in which the next extraordinary thing is just too much, and he couldn’t do shit with a second Maserati even if he could afford one. But there’s just some of the moments where it is possible to make one feel they are close to owning the world and being a god.
That was one of those moments, where too much felt amazing.
How is it that the fantastical can meet them so easily, and what’s actually its price?
It was hard to find a really good reason why he wouldn’t pay for it.
And while as if he had been too deep in his own existential questions, he felt a strong push and he lost his balance, having time to only look at Kayn and see him laughing before he hit the water. It wasn’t cold, nor hot, it just embraced him, deafened the outside world and he floated easily to stand back and emerge. Kayn had pushed him into the pool, fully clothed, and jumped as well. Everything was heightened, so the water felt embracing, and every sensation of his clothes that were sticking to his skin and then following the flows of water at each movement of his felt just amazing.
“You little shit-...” Yone tried, but fuck it, he had no inhibitions left and he liked it. Noticing this, Kayn laughed acidly, swimming close.
“Whoops.”
“You’ll pay for this.”
“Will I?” He pushed his body close in the water. This fucking brat, it was his only thought before he pulled him by the waist, their bodies were against each other once more and once more they were kissing.
That type of hunger felt particularly strange when the drug doesn't allow for too much focus. Instead, it begs for them to explore. His hands slid under Kayn’s cropped top and he lifted it, to take it out of his body; Kayn welcomed it and only broke their kiss to allow the piece of clothing to be taken off. Once there, he got Yone to take off his top as well, and chest against chest again they were devouring each other's lips once more. It was way too easy for Kayn to put his hand under Yone’s skirt right then, but before he could even think about it, Yone had unbuckled his belt, loosened the button and lowered the zipper of his pants. Gasping, he sneered, unable to get too far away from him even when he wanted to speak.
“Who’d say that the golden rich boy had pickpocketing fingers?”
It took Yone a moment to understand that he meant how stealthy and agile he had been with his hands, and as he got it, Yone smirked back.
“Oh, that’s what the hands of a pianist can do, I guess. I can also jerk you off and finger you at the same time. Different rhythm and pace and all.” he said as if it was a joke, as if nonchalantly, relishing in the desire seething from Kayn.
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
“You to take your pants off.” he growled against his lips, his slithering hands grabbing Kayn’s hair. He wouldn't pull it at all now, just felt the grip.
Kayn would soon just take what was left of his clothes off, and so would Yone at the same time. Kayn even got to think that he could keep the skirt as it was that sexy, but he was better off just allowing him to do whatever. He just wanted to feel himself seething more. He walked the steps closer to the glass wall of the pool, as he wanted to be touched while gazing towards the city, tens of floors away from the ground, so that he won’t have to do anything while they are staring into each other's eyes.
He spread his hand wide open on the glass, as he struggled to find somewhere to hold onto. Yet, Yone’s arm wraps around his waist and he catches his breath, understanding that it was all the balance he needed. His breath went out louder when Yone’s lips pressed slowly and carefully, biting some spots; he kissed along his spine, almost one by one, in an upward line from between his scalps and ending up biting his neck. With a forced exhale, he released his body against Kayn’s, each tender kiss on his skin burning with intensity.
Kayn welcomed his every action, and he did so as each kiss marked a hot spot on his wet skin along his back. He let out air that was increasingly heavy, excited and nervous in a way that would only make sense to him. It would be a lie to say that no negative thoughts cross his mind right now; in fact, he'd think they all buzz like a cyclone in his head, strong and loud but holding on for less than a second before sweeping away everything else. Everything he questioned himself increasingly became an uncomfortable blur of a second to be overrun by other thoughts and even more violently by sensations. And when he felt Yone holding him tightly with both hands, spreading his ass cheeks and leaving him exposed so he could do what he wanted, he felt as if his face was burning hot from his neck.
No one of them could keep hard enough and soon they understood that they wouldn't be having regular sex, and that it was really an understatement. Because not being able to just get it over with would mean that they would spend the whole night just enjoying how insane their touch feels in their skins. When Yone's dexterous fingers slid inside him, the slow, precise thrusts made Kayn tremble; and he would soon enough be taken by those spasms. He wasn't hard enough to be jerked off, but he was so sensitive that he wanted to scream, and the other hand was just caressing him all over, his while groin included. The sound of the water and the music was perfect to make them connect.
Yone had his lungs on fire, and he felt as if there was steam coming out of his windpipes. Of course it was hard to breathe. Of course it wasn't easy to have that man so literally in his arms, but the metaphorical meaning was the one that made him breathless the most. In that moment in time, Kayn was his. He was at the sake of his wills and his mercy, letting himself go in all the ways he could. Subdued by the strength of his unforeseen trust and surrender, Yone there was entirely Kayn's as well. And he wished to fuck him senseless, while his body only gave him a half-hard cock and a really infatuated mind, if only for that moment as he fingered Kayn and bit his back never as strong as he had better have done.
The pleasure skyrocketing and reaching a different intensity than what any of them knew, an orgasm that Kayn still wouldn't reach and it enraged him until he remembered to relax. He probably wouldn't come, but he could experience something more dense, and impossible to conceive, like a slow explosion, like free falling in slow motion. That powerful wave of pleasure spread to his legs and to all his spine, blowing up his mind. The wet heat was unbelievable, and once again it would be a lie if he said it was welcome at first; but, damn it, it didn't take long for him to simply exhale, scratching his throat. The sensation was so incoherent and yet so perfectly insidious that he was sure the burning on his face would soon fuse his skull and melt his brain. That was beyond all his ability to act, and if for a while he just allowed myself to see what would happen, because all of Yone’s touches are welcome, too soon he would be practically pushing his body towards his hand, spine projecting downwards as he hears foreign moans escape his throat. What they do to each other is absurd, and every second he allowed himself, an extra fraction of him became irreversibly corrupted beyond what he could explain, conceive or contain, as he shut his eyes and allowed only the touches to soak his perception and drown it in the pool water.
“Hey.” that simple interjection still sounded like a plea, piercing Kayn’s perception. The singer flashed his eyes open and he could stare at the late lights of the city night shimmering in the water droplets, the sky getting purple, and he didn't want another morning to come, not now, not ever. If he were fucked raw against that glass until they both come it would be easier, so much easier than closing his eyes and being tasted, teased, explored like that, feeling pleasure hovering around, coming and going, increasing and softening, while his heart was so full like that.
“What?”, he growled, complaining.
“I really, really want to kiss you.” Yone confessed in a hush.
When Kayn turned to face Yone, their eyes met catastrophically as his fucking manager cupping his face as if they were lovers. Against Yone's careful touch, Kayn felt invincible and, suddenly, at the same time, extremely fragile. Yet, when Yone had finished covering him in kisses and their faces aligned, the smile he received was nothing short of fierce, and the glint in his relentless green eyes. He had dealt better with the aggressivity, with the actual violence; when the scarred hands framed his face and those lips kissed his cheek, Yone thought his heart would break at any moment. But at least for that while, it did not. He held Kayn's two hands, pulling them away from his face, and their fingers teased together before intertwining, and for more minutes they kissed. Chest to chest and hip to hip; they no longer avoided friction, until they were on edge, breathing heavily, their hearts in a chaotic roar.
Kayn exhaled forcefully as Yone climbed onto his lap and wrapped his legs around his waist, still underwater. Viewed from below, Kayn’s perfect face in its imperfection and was sure that image would stay in his memory forever. With him very light on his lap now - Yone would probably be light enough for him even if they weren't underwater, and he really wanted to put it to test some day. Still while kissing, Kayn walked towards the edge of the pool and pressed him against the wall. It was more than just enough - it was all, and everything, they needed. Nothing else was necessary; preparation, submission, enduring pain, knowing this or that, how to act in one way or another. All they had to do was continue what they were doing: kissing until their lips were red, moving against each other with no clothes in the way, grappling every inch of skin and hair and losing their restraints, one by one, until they are surrendered. Broken words and moans between background music guided a coordination they did not have, only chaotic and relentless desire.
But then, after an eternity and maybe not longer than some minutes, they found themselves hugging. Only hugging each other very tight.
And now it felt like Yone’s heart was finally beginning to ache.
Immersed in a cathartic stupor, Kayn dared to open his eyes and stared at a lost point in the balcony, Yone nestled against him. He felt a tingling in the extremities of his body and his heart seemed unable to slow down. Would he have a heart attack?
The ecstasy slowly dissipating and plunging him into an intoxicating mist seemed almost a little desperate.
Dramatic as it was, the fear was of never feeling so good again in his entire life.
And happiness was the thing Kayn feared the most, because it’s merciless as it fades. And the morning sky is soon coming, making him want to hide away from the light.
Trying to release the hug, out of self-preservation more than out of desire, Kayn felt the arm tighten against his back, the same trembling arm of a certainly whole exhausted body. It was as if he struggled to not let him go, and he closed his eyes, his face against that warm and sweaty chest against his ear, the heavy pounding of his heart.
If that had been half as amazing for Yone as it had been for him…
Anyway, Yone still wanted him around. He held him against him with the little strength he had at that point. The two were reduced to a chaos at that moment, but he just wanted to stay there until he fell asleep. He knew he wouldn't, though.
“Do you want to share a joint with me? I want to lay down a bit.” Kayn said, and it was only then that Yone woke up from his own world where everything was good and hot and welcome. He doesn't remember the last time he’s even hugged someone like that, or at all. Kayn saw the moments when he lost Yone to himself; when his eyes became dull and his movements faltered, and he nodded without wanting to think.
Yeah, he could get higher, it would be for the better.
They got out of the pool and soon found the towels left for them, the whole night cold against their hot bodies. At least the music kept them from the threats of the silence, and Yone forbade himself to think.
He left the balcony and walked in with the towel draped on his shoulders, to keep water from running too much from his hair. Kayn walked towards a counter where there was a tablet; it must be the controllers for the suite, because the curtains were closed with the press of a button on a screen. He walked towards the fridge behind the counter.
Too bright inside the fridge, too normal. His perception was begging for less normality and more of Kayn’s heat. He was still horny, even if his body didn't follow. He came back with water to find Kayn throwing his body in one of the huge sofas, a joint between his fingers that he picked in his backpack. He caressed the fluffy throws feeling the good texture and called for Yone with a gesture.
Yone stopped right before him, standing tall and beautiful like a sin. Kayn took a hit and filled his lungs with smoke, when right after Yone leaned one leg in one side of his body and straddled him, sitting on his thighs to slide to fit perfectly on his lap. Kayn handed him the joint and with his free hands, his arms wrapped around the thin waist of Yone’s. He leaned his head on Yone's chest and listened to his heartbeats as his manager was breathing in his share of weed smoke.
They smoked, and drank water, and played with each other’s skin, until, legs entwined, they were making out again, breaking into kisses, and in a few minutes Kayn felt like he would fall apart, tears in his eyes, trembling, groaning softly.
"Are you okay, Kayn?" The voice purred next to Kayn's face, before pressing lips to his cheek, salty from sweat right now.
He laughed beautifully almost a sob, covering his mouth for a moment - an image that Yone made sure to keep, which made him smile weakly. Weak not for lack of desire, but for excess of awe.
"Much better than okay," he said, pulling him to kiss again.
Kayn's hands slipped from Yone’s shoulder and laid flat on his chest, feeling the uncertain rise and fall that his agent's hesitant breathing created. They had laid down on the couch and now it was Kayn who was sitting on his hip and had Yone lying down. Yone had his eyes reddish and half-open and his breathing was uneven; the muscles in his hands tensed and relaxed almost without pattern as they grabbed the singer’s legs, escaping because they were still smeared with lubricant. They just didn't seem to hold together; even those hands, which never lost control.
“Yone...” Kayn's own voice became distant, a shaky echo, as he surrendered to those touches with a roll of his eyes. He could feel the vibration of his voice against the other's lips on his neck, he heard himself calling that name, without any reason, without any objective, just a hoarse and serious plea. The connection the two entered into elevated to some kind of nirvana. Superlatives that never made sense, in that moment of peak, of fervor, found a home in the minds of both. And, in that moment, the two were sure that they could hug until their bones broke, scream until their throats bled, sweat until they dried up, and they could feel for everything that they were never allowed to.
Destroying the ice wall and melting the chips was easy; what he would do with that heart that he had completely exposed and defenseless later, was a question that Yone would have to face later only. At that moment, he had reached a plateau where he forgot everything else, holding the hand of someone so famous and truly almost unknown, full of recklessness and compassion in a sublime combination. His mind was delightfully numb while his body was all sensitivity and his heart felt like a ticking bomb. In less than an exact interval and more than a swing of intensity, they still continued, less and less coordinated but with an increasingly intricate connection, until their bodies only succumbed to exhaustion and they could no longer continue kissing.
If there was a world outside that room, none of them wanted to think about it. At least in that moment, as their brains swam in the newfound pleasure and prostration, it was all worth it. Thankfully for both, without even noticing, they would both fall asleep as soon as they had finished falling in love.
Notes:
Thank you so much for commenting, really! You have no idea how happy you make me. This one took a little longer, but thank you so much for everything and all your love.
Chapter Text
In what felt like a dreamless sleep without a transition, Yone opened his eyes wide and found himself awake, all of a sudden. It took him a couple of seconds to understand which chandelier in which ceiling he was staring at. The curtains were all closed, but he could see the bright lights of a probably very hot Sunday creeping in through some of the slits.
The couch was almost as comfortable as a bed, so that wasn’t the problem. His head was aching and heavy as he sat down and his mouth was dry. Suddenly being naked felt shameful, and a lot of things he had done in that last night felt that way as well.
If he had been drunk, maybe he could blame it all on the booze, because even though the desires might still be your own while influenced by the alcohol, you get only your most unacceptable, insufferable, stupid version, that you would never listen to otherwise most of the times. Unlike alcohol, MDMA doesn’t take your reasoning ability away, it just dampens your inhibitions. And once he didn’t have them, all he could think of was to be against Kayn, which was remarkably telling. And so they did last night, until they were knocked out in each other’s arms, as high as the Empire State. Now he is awake, still under some remaining effects, but sober.
He sat down and buried his face in his hands, sighing and rubbing his aching eyes.
That had been the best sex he’s ever had. Period. Everything, from the jamming session to the dinner and that trip to Vegas, that was the most fun he had had in…
Has he ever even had this much fun?
Yone shook his head at the thoughts, and feeling his head hurt as he did so was welcoming because the pain distracted him. He couldn’t think about it, not now, and yet he couldn’t afford to regret it. He had to go to the bathroom, put on some clothes, drink some water and find Kayn.
Where the hell was he?
Kayn was at the balcony, as Yone would find out a bit after. He was lying on one of the lounge chairs, smoking a regular cigarrette. It looked like he hadn’t woken up much earlier, as his hair was still messy and he was still naked. He heard the balcony door opening and sighed, blowing off smoke.
“Morning, Kayn.”
“Don’t even start”, he answered right away, in a displeased groan.
Yone didn’t know what he was expecting, but it surely wasn’t that, and he ended up scoffing.
“I was just going to ask if you had eaten or you want to order some lunch. It’s past two already.”
Kayn glanced at Yone, who seemed to just have put on any shorts he had in his suitcase and tied back his hair in a quick, unkempt bun. It was so unsettling seeing him like that, so intimately, and because of that he was back to staring at the afternoon view of Vegas. In daylight, it wasn’t as interesting; much less when sober.
“I don’t feel like eating. I’m just gathering courage to go take a shower and I’ll sleep the whole day. The helicopter will pick us up at seven.”
“You should eat something. We haven’t eaten since our dinner if not for the lollipops.”
“You don’t get to mother me after doing drugs and fingering me in the pool, manager. Kindly fuck off, if you may.”
Yone sighed, not that surprised by the reaction at all.
“Well, I may.” He approached and left a Gatorade and some pills on the small table that was beside the lounge chair. “But just take these first, at least.”
Kayn just glanced at the table, not doing anything about it. It was probably Yone’s post-rolling stash. And true to his word, considering that he didn't do as much molly as he usually does, and also he had taken the supplements Kayn gave him, in the end it really turns out that, physically, Kayn was feeling a lot less shitty than he usually does. What was compensated, of course, by everything else that he was feeling sucking major dick.
He should have left the suite. Why didn’t he just bail and left Yone there, so that he wouldn’t have to deal with it again?
Maybe just because it would look like he’s afraid of something.
It will show that he’s afraid of something.
“I will take them if you leave me the fuck alone.”, he said as he smoked some more.
“You know, you are the one who brought me here to begin with.” Yone crossed his arms, unfazed.
“And we fucked, kind of, like I was hoping for. I wish I could have nutted at least but that’s good enough. Now you’re not of use to me anymore. You’re hot and you’re good at what you do, that’s for sure. But I still fucking hate you, don’t forget that.”
But it made Yone grin, and he walked around the lounge chair until he’s right in front of Kayn and he had to stare at him.
“I would believe it better if you said that while looking at me.”
Kayn leaned in towards Yone, stared him dead in the eyes and repeated:
“I fucking hate you, don’t forget that.”
Unbothered, Yone shrugged and looked around for a lounge chair beside Kayn, sitting on it, still turned to Kayn. It’s screaming angry dog that is afraid of enjoying being petted.
“Well, I can’t say it isn’t reciprocated in some way. You unnerve me worse than anyone I know, but you’re also a lot of fun. I really needed to unwind and you gave me a wonderful night. I wanted to thank you for that. Can I have a cigarette as well with you?”
Unbelievable. Kayn gritted his teeth and they ached from tension from the last night.
“What do I have to do for you to leave me the fuck alone?”
“I am in dire need of a shower. I’ll just have one cigarette with you, order us lunch and I’m on my way to my bedroom, I guess we both need to rest more. I won’t bite, or kiss you, for that matter. Not with morning breath, at least. You don't need to be scared of me.”
“I’m not scared of anything, Yone. I’m just hungover, almost out of serotonin to give and I want to be alone, but you can't respect that.”
“Then hand me a cigarette, will you? The sooner you do, the sooner I go my own way.”
Snorting, Kayn reached out under his lounge chair, grabbed the pack of cigarettes and the lighter and bent closer to hand it to him.
They held the gaze. Kayn swallowed hard.
Yone was insidious. He knew what he was doing.
Last night, he truly seemed real. He looked like someone who he was truly having fun with, who liked him, who danced and smiled and hushed and moaned.
What about right now? Could he really be as confident as he seems? Couldn't he, deep down, feel as confused and lost as he, Kayn, felt after everything? After the best sex he’s ever had, and the best night he’s had in forever?
That was the drug, he knew it.
He had no idea Yone felt the same. He had no idea that Yone was so, so afraid of everything right now and that he hoped that cigarette could help him relax if only a little bit.
At most, he had the time of that cigarette to make sure everything isn’t ruined between them both, and he had to play cool with probably his whole career on the line. He had already jeopardized everything, so he had to make sure that they enter into the kind of relationship that he already knows how to deal with.
Sex isn’t the problem. It has never been, and most of the times it was the best way Yone knew to get things his way. It’s not unprofessional in his terms, not per se. If he needed someone to bend over figuratively, he had them bend over literally and it will all work out; sometimes he does the literal bending over, that’s fine. It doesn’t matter, he gets what he wants. Sex is fun, he’s good at it, again, it’s not the problem in itself.
The problem is intimacy. The problem is when you’re having so much fun that you don’t want it to stop. The problem is when they feel comfortable enough to talk like they were about to do.
“It’s remarkable that Barbie Ballerina even has morning breath.” Kayn commented, for some reason.
Inhaling smoke, he then answered.
“Yeah, you know, I know it’s shocking, and I hope you don’t get too grossed out, but it doesn’t stop in morning breath. I even had sleep in my eyes, could you imagine that? I don’t like to share this, but since we’re being honest with each other,” he lowered his voice and hushed as if he’s telling a secret. “sometimes I even fart.”
Kayn snorted, caught by surprise at how silly that sounded.
“Oh, you drool and snore, too. Just so you know.”
“Come on.” Yone stared at him while waiting for him to deny it afterwards. But Kayn just nodded.
“Yeah, you do.”
“Seriously?”
“It wasn’t the afternoon light that woke me up, it was you drooling an ocean on my chest and snoring like a drunken sailor.”
Yone had to laugh, but a part of him liked the image for some reason.
A part of Kayn also hadn’t detested it.
“Sorry about that, then. It’s the first time someone tells me that. Probably people are just being nice.”
“Probably. Also, I think you were just too knocked out. Even people who don’t snore sometimes can still do it when they are too tired or intoxicated.”
That was really sweet, Yone thought.
“Yeah, when I’m on something to help me to sleep I do drool sometimes. At least I hardly ever sleep in anyone’s place. I wouldn't want anyone to see me like this.”
“Like this you look like a human being, and not a vampire as you usually do. This hair all messy, the heavy eyelids and the hickies in your shoulders, it all makes you look like you don't eat souls for dinner and weren't cursed to wear a demonic mask upon your face, never allowed to show your own.”
Yone chuckled because it was all truly funny, and he didn't know what to answer. How is it that he can't tell what was the right thing to say? In the end he wanted to thank him, because all he was saying had probably been the most sincere, touching praise he’s ever received, and that was when he smiled while staring at his own hands.
“Unfortunately I can't stay like this for good, it would be way too much trouble. You know, we have to keep the appearances.”
“I guess. You’ll have to explain the hickies to K’Sante, too.”
When Yone exhaled smoke, it came out as a sigh.
“K’Sante is the lesser of our problems.”
"Our?" Kayn laughed. “Your relationship with K’Sante is your problem, not mine. I’m not going to lift a single finger to help you.”
"You are right." Yone just sighed once more. “It really is my problem, everything around that. I should be the one who keeps you in line.”
Another acid laugh. Kayn’s cigarette was finished and he just pressed it in the marble floor to put it out.
“Deep down you’re regretting it to death, aren’t you?”
Yone sighed and then gazed deep into Kayn’s eyes.
“I probably should. But how could I? It was the best night I've had in forever, and the Saturday we spent together made me remember how much I love music. So… I have to own it, and not cower away from what it all meant.”
The singer scoffed and rolled his eyes. Looking away, he was still grinning.
“Don’t come at me with fake vulnerability, I can see right through you, Yone.”
“If you think that’s fake, then you can’t see shit.”
It wasn’t fake vulnerability. It was weaponized vulnerability. Now it’s done, Yone can’t undo it. He can’t pretend it wasn’t intense, it meant nothing, or act as if it didn’t happen. He had to own it and hope he can be as manipulative as he always is with all of the sex partners he’s had before - without ruining himself too much in the process. However, he’s come to the game already losing.
Kayn wasn't having it.
“If that’s true, then that’s because it’s your first time falling in love with someone while rolling. It happens. Don’t worry, today you’re still in the afterglow, but you’ll forget about it tomorrow during the Monday blues when you’re fucking depleted of serotonin. Don’t compromise. That’s why they call it the love drug to begin with.”
Yone pouted.
“Well, you’re the one who mentioned falling in love.”
Rolling his eyes, Kayn retorted.
“Yeah, and that doesn't scare me. It’s fun, to fall in love with someone for the night, because it’s not love, it’s just excitement while being affection starved. We have chemistry, I can't deny it, and we find each other hot. But then I wake up and I remember you’re a heartless cunning cunt who’s also banging your boss and wants to control me with cocaine. You just slipped because you were stressed out and needed to break the mold a little bit. It’s all there is to it.”
Yone took a second while inhaling smoke. He didn't mind his insults. He couldn't act deliberately a certain way and then allow himself to be offended when someone calls him out. A cunt? He probably was, as far as synonyms of ‘bitch’ are concerned. Cunning? Yes, sure, that’s his best professional feat, probably. Heartless?
He really wished he were.
“Does trying to logic your way out of feelings work for you? Honest question.”
Kayn shrugged within a humorless laugh.
“Pretty much. I haven't been allowed to feel shit for a long time now, and I do feel a lot. Don't expect me to indulge, I'm very good at bottling up feelings and taking it out on anger, self-destruction and substance abuse.”
One thing Yone found remarkable about Kayn as he got to know him was how self-aware he seemed to be. Even though he said so in that scornful tone, he isn't entirely kidding. While he sure was a ticking bomb, he wasn't blinded by stardom, he wasn't cluelessly arrogant or self-absorbed as he’s seen so many artists before, so lost in their own excuses that they can't take responsibility.
Kayn seems to know what he does wrong, he knows he’s a mess, when he’s an obnoxious person he does it all deliberately. He’s observant, sharp and astute.
He’s a menace Yone’s never faced before, if he comes to think about it.
Yet, this isn't how he should approach it. He got up from his chair and sat by the foot of Kayn’s.
“Maybe that’s exactly the thing we should be working on. You know I have the power to do this. We can do this together.”
He placed his hand on Kayn’s shin, trying to search for his eyes. As he found them, though, it made him shiver. They had such a somber haze to them that it was truly scary.
“I’ll tell you just one more time before I go back to punching you: don't even try to manipulate me with this shit. If you want us to fuck, that’s fine for me. You’re the one digging your own grave, don't come at me crying later. If you don't, then stop touching me, I’ll behave well enough, and we make this shit work so we won't destroy each other. I'm already alone and you are good enough to work with. Just don't try to relate to me or pretend you’re empathetic because you will regret it.”
Yone removed his hand from Kayn’s leg.
“Kayn, I’m just-”
“You finished your cigarette, so be a man of your word and leave. Go order us some lunch and take your shower or whatever you need to get out of my face.”
But that brought a faint smile to Yone’s face.
“So you do want some lunch.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He reached out for the supplement pills and the Gatorade that his manager had handed him. “Make it extra greasy.”
Yone stood up, sighing, and nodded. That was as good as it will get.
“On my way.”, he said before leaving, and it was probably for the best. He would do as said, order them lunch from the hotel menu, trying to find something greasy enough for Kayn, and he would take a shower, at last. A shower and brushing his teeth would do wonders for his dignity, even after all this damage it has suffered.
As lunch arrived, Kayn really walked there as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Not exchanging many words with Yone, he picked his own food and just walked with it to one of the bedrooms of the suite, locking himself in. Yone would do the same, setting the alarm for him to wake up with enough time to get ready for when the helicopter would come for them.
After eating and drinking, there was hardly anything else to do but rest. And they would find themselves staring at different parts of the same ceiling, dreading the silence that allowed their minds to drift. None of them would admit how much they wanted to knock on each other’s door, but they would remain tossing and turning on the sheets, unable to sleep as quickly as they wished no matter how exhausted they were, only true fatigue bringing them to unconsciousness.
Maybe it had been really just too intense of a night and they were still too close to every single memory, physically and chronologically. Maybe they just need to distance themselves a little bit and they can work well with their complicity. Maybe Yone’s trip in the beginning of a week and a couple of days away from each other will make things clearer.
Maybe if you tell a lie enough times, you can believe it.
Chapter Text
Amidst the clouds seen from above, orange and golden sun rays were cast from the twilight. That waiting time on the plane was uncomfortable, even though he was flying first class and it wouldn’t take him long to arrive. Yone had a Kindle in his hands, but he couldn't read anything there. He always thought too much when his mind was free, and his mind was drifting to the last time he had seen the city lights constellating the horizon from an aircraft. Which, thanks to Kayn, had happened in not more than 48h from that moment.
It had been a weird couple of days.
When they left the hotel in Vegas, Kayn had put on his headphones, making it clear that he didn’t want to talk at all, so that brief conversation they had when they woke up was the only thing they’d exchange. When they were alone in the helicopter, Kayn leaned back and closed his eyes and slept, or, in what would be even a funny effort, pretended to have done so for the rest of the trip. When they arrived at Kayn's estate, Kayn at most waved at him before heading inside. And at that point, Yone was just thankful for being able to walk to his car and finally leave to his own place to try to knock himself out to sleep with some wine and half a Xanax.
He wanted to have the privilege of not thinking for at least a couple of hours more.
Monday came with all the problems that Saturday Yone had left to be solved, with the addition of being as depressed as he could be. His brain was surely working his best trying to replenish whatever type of happiness he had in the shape of hormones, yet Yone wouldn’t help much in this by dropping an Adderall, with the excuse that he truly needed to find some kind of motivation to get out of bed and work twelve hours straight to compensate for every shit he had thrown at the fan during that weekend. And while doing so, he would ask very single employee in Kayn’s house hourly for an update on how he was, understanding that he must have been truly depressed. According to them, all Kayn did was sleep, only waking up to scold a poor butler that came closer to check if he was alive to begin with and if he wanted to eat something. Yone could relate with being so bored and truly down, as he himself was trying to get distracted from every single independent thought by whistling something from the random songs he and Kayn jammed on the Saturday, mostly when he had to go to the beauty salon. It was as essential to him as every other crucial appointment, for an obvious reason.
It was another day of a narrative that he experienced frequently, even though everything was highlighted now, in which Yone thought he wanted to retire as quickly as possible, and then concluded that he wouldn't trade his job for anything, and then he would go back to thinking about a country to move to after he left everything he was working on. Maybe go back to Japan. Every time the glow of an effusive Californian sun burned against his eyes as he drove, mostly now that he was feeling that low, Yone thought it was wrong; he should be driving on the right side, and under a very different light.
Then he would get out of the car, the sun's rays caressed the back of his neck and everything had a vibrant color, embracing him with a shade of blue like a swimming pool, whispering in his ear for him to take off that suit, and to hell with every other country in this fucking world.
He couldn’t. He should follow; he was a businessman and his social attire matched a bit of his reputation, one he had to keep even though he wished to be wearing a long skirt with a thigh slit. Suits also accompanied his charm, and, even though he had a beautiful face and a slender body, it was because it clashed with so much class with the landscape around him, that Yone was always considered so unique, so classy, so attractive.
Especially by K’Sante. The record company CEO had so many of the most famous celebrities around him and he ended up allowing the charms of that alluring, eloquent and confident businessman from Kyoto to win him over. It wasn’t an easy feat, he wasn’t such a gullible man. But Yone massaged his ego in the right way, talked in a way that convinced him that he was an intelligent and visionary man without having to be a straight up bootlicker as everyone else is around him. Yone gave him unforgettable nights and smoked excellent cigars with him. And, so fluidly that it felt to K’Sante like a mere natural consequence, Yone was also the one who gave him many contracts to sign, all of which with many terms, conditions and charges to ascertain.
Boring terms, aren't they? Yes, there were things much more interesting and urgent than them; or that's what Yone always implied. While K'Sante was trying to read what was in front of him, Yone found a way to distract him. When it seemed like words wouldn't work, he would get up, walk around the table and go behind his chair. His hands rested on his shoulders, massaging them. Then they slid down his chest and his mouth almost touched K'Sante's ear as he purred sweet nothings to him. When Yone's hands slid to his crotch, what remained of concentration in the director had already vanished.
At that point, after a lot of work on some hard-earned trust, K’Sante was barely aware of what he signed each time Yone visited his office.
But he always signed it all, and that was what mattered.
A part of Yone wished he had the time to get fucked senseless as well, instead of having to close his eyes to suck a cock the best he can. K’Sante was good at that and maybe if he got wrecked in another man's hands he could stop thinking about how Kayn smelled when he buried his face in his wet hair. But he had very little time for other more important things, and it would be better not to risk displaying the hickies that could show up if he sweated too much and his skin foundation melted off a bit.
The flight attendant brought Yone the sparkling water he had ordered. He extended his arm with a gentle smile, but when he held the bottle, all he did was stare at it. With a chuckle he remembered the rest of the afternoon of the previous day. Basically as he would get up from kneeling in the carpet of K’Sante’s office he would walk away and calmly head to the bathroom to brush his teeth with the practicality of someone who takes it as just another business appointment. By the time he’s going back to the garage he was calling his assistant Irelia for her to meet Kayn and the three of them arrange everything. It was just a couple of days, after all.
About eight hours of whatever he would call work had already passed in that Monday when Yone arrived at Kayn’s place with his assistant. So much had happened in one single day, yet nothing at all that he could get really interested in.
Irelia was sitting in Kayn's living room and they were talking with incredible fluidity even though Kayn had plopped down on the couch, twirling a cushion around his finger as they spoke, and responded punctually. Despite appearing distracted, Kayn noticed that Yone's assistant was skillfully hiding how nervous she was. At one point in the conversation, she got up and excused herself to go to the bathroom.
And the two of them were alone for the first time again ever since they came back from Vegas, in two different couches. Yone looked at Kayn, who had leaned back and spread his legs and was staring at Irelia’s back while she left the room.
Something in Yone awaited for an inappropriate comment on his assistant, even if just to annoy or provoke him.
“So, she’s a dancer, too?”, was what Kayn had asked, even when nothing they had talked about was about had anything to do with that.
Yone had to frown.
“Why do you ask?”
“She moves very smoothly, there’s something to her that resembles you in an almost uncanny way. But she might just be deliberately rapporting, so I’m curious.”
While rapport could simply mean agreement or sympathy between people or groups, Yone had a feeling that he meant that specific, deliberate technique to discreetly mirror someone’s gestures, to get someone’s unconscious to absorb your empathizing with them.
“Yes, she is a very skilled dancer. I find artistic background very important to work with. I wasn’t specifically searching for a dancer, though. She just happened to please Evelynn and I, about two years ago.”
“Is she practicing it lately?”
“Probably not as much. Her schedule is very tight.”
It seemed to amuse Kayn.
“Probably. So you aren’t as attentive to her as you should. This is funny.”
“What are you talking about?”
Finally Kayn turned to him.
“Have you banged her?”
“I'm gay, Kayn.” Yone frowned, not understanding where he was trying to get with this. “And besides, I wouldn't need to, it would be just harassment.”
“That was the better explanation. I don't buy that you wouldn’t hit it even with someone like Evelynn if it helps you out. “
Yone snorted.
“Evelynn? Are you listening to yourself?”
Kayn had to laugh as well.
“Yeah, ok, you’re right, that was way too far. If Evelynn has ever even had sex, it was while sacrificing a virgin girl to perform a satanic ritual. It would explain you being soulless, though, she would have sucked it out of your body.”
They laughed a little at that, even though the implications of the last part, this time, annoyed him a little.
“While Irelia is not here, I’d just like to reiterate some things. It’s better for you and everyone involved if you don't share anything with her.”
Kayn winked, the same coy expression in his face.
“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Don't worry. I don't fuck and tell.”
After swallowing hard, Yone sighed.
“I also meant that, but not only that. The less she knows about anything related to you that we haven't mentioned in this meeting, the better it will be.”
“Sure. I know how you people work, always aiming at each other's backs. Also, she could be learning from the best on how to be conniving.”
Yone even stopped for a second, but decided to ignore the comment. It was getting tiring. He had something else to add, which would be more of use.
“Also, try to treat her well, will you? It will be of no use for any of us to have her stressed out. She has to tell me everything, so don't be a dick about it as well.”
“That is something you really shouldn't worry about. It looks like you’re a little afraid of her with me for some reason, and I happened to have liked her. I'm looking forward to this couple of days without you, they look like they'll be a lot of fun. She’ll have a lot of things to report back to you about how I’ll have treated her like a princess.”
Oh, so that’s how it’s going to go, Yone thought, releasing a deep breath.
“Well, be my guest. Just try not to sexually harass her in the meantime.”
“I won't. Don't get too pressed about it. Not everything is about sex, you know?”
That was when Irelia came back with a lighthearted comment on how she got a little bit lost in the house. Kayn then jumped up to his feet, standing in the middle of the living room.
“So, Irelia! I was just telling Yone that you should stay here just a little longer. Dinner is getting ready and he still has a lot of things to do, but the two of us should talk about the rest of the matters you brought here. What do you say?”
“Uh, sure? It would be lovely, but I'm believe that the work Yone needs to do involves me as well, right, boss?” Irelia looked at her boss to try to look for some guidance on what she should and was allowed to do.
Getting up, with a kind smile Yone just nodded.
“No, don't worry. You’re good to go. You should get to know each other better, and you’re calling the shots for these two days, Irelia.” He placed his hand on Irelia’s shoulder for a moment, but then turned to Kayn to finish. “Just don't hold her for too long, she already worked a lot today and she needs to rest.”
Even though she smiled and nodded back, Irelia was as lost as she could be with all that. First by being invited to dinner by rock star Kayn, the same infamous, notorious Kayn that seemed to raise hell for her boss; but mostly because her boss was allowing it and showing some kind of recognition for her work for some reason.
But no answer would come, just everyone moving on without them. Yone approached Kayn and offered his hand for a handshake.
“See you in a couple of days, Kayn.”
Kayn shook his hand and looked deep into his eyes.
“See you, manager.”
Dear passengers, we are beginning our descent procedure…
The voice through the speakers of the airplane brought Yone back to that moment, that reality. Tuesday just vanished before his eyes because it had all the same shades of grey, the same texture of papers and screens and the same smell of coffee, and then he would be in a plane, and that plane was arriving.
Please return your seat to the upright position and heed the warnings to fasten your seat belts. The temperature on the ground...
In a somewhat confusing time frame, Yone was at the airport. It was raining a bit, and Los Angeles had never seemed so far away. With his vision blurred as if raindrops had fallen in front of his eyes, Yone slowly walked through the corridors while everyone disembarked. He remained standing, his briefcase in his left hand. Even if he had priority from the first-class tickets for the disembarking and baggage claim process, he still had to deal with small queues and Yone felt uncomfortable with them all; even if it was just for a few minutes.
As soon as he crossed the connecting bridge and actually left for the airport, Yone took his phone out of his jacket to turn and made one more attempt to clear his mind. Some damp wind entered the airport lounge through a window and touched his face with the mediocre smell of wet earth and settled dust. It was seven p.m., but he could call someone to keep informing.
“Hello, Yone.” The mellow, singsong voice of Evelynn was unmistakeable.
“Evening, Evelynn. Am I on loudspeaker?”
“No, and Akali isn’t here. I’m alone, you can talk.”
“K'Sante signed the second contract yesterday.”
“Oh, so he did it.” Even in Evelynn's voice, one could see a spark of genuine excitement. “You’re good at it. Congratulations."
“I play with the cards I have. I just wanted to tell you this and remind you that I won’t be in L.A. until Thursday.”
“Oh, the whole Zed thing, right?" Suddenly her voice sounded bored.
"Yes. Irelia is taking care of everything. It’s better if neither you nor Akali get in touch with him. I need him in his best shape next week and if he starts having rage fits again we’re screwed.”
“Which he definitely won’t have if he finds out you’re talking to his daddy behind his back, right?" Even with the same bored tone, Evelynn almost cooed the sentence, so strong in sarcasm it was.
"Will you tell him?”
“No.”
“Then he doesn’t need to find out. I need to sort out a few things before I try to talk to Zed, though.”
“I don’t know what could matter so much in Kayn’s past. Even more now."
“It's my job, Evelynn. To be honest, this is something I should have done before allowing myself to believe all there was to it was in what you all showed me.”
“Ah, Yone…” Evelynn's voice then took a deeper tone. “That's dangerous, you know. Getting this close to Kayn, you'll end up looking at him like...”
Silence. Yone an expression of crooked scorn distorted his tranquility.
"Say it. Even you know what you wanted to say is cruel.”
“Did you have sex with him?” Evelynn's tone changed a little, becoming curious.
“You wanted to say I'm going to end up looking at Kayn like a human being, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, Yone. Exactly." After a sigh, Evelynn took on the tone of someone rubbing the truth in someone's face. “If you were like everyone else in the media and saw him as a star-crossed megalomaniac whose downfall is nothing more than the price of stardom, it would be a lot easier. It would even be healthier if you fell for K'Sante. Because you know that Kayn has an expiration date, don't you? And when it is over, when the media has forgotten Shieda Kayn's name, you will have retired to Luxembourg or the Bahamas before you are forty. Kayn’s going to destroy himself and you can't go with him. You’re a professional, don’t be an idiot.”
“Evelynn, I've been doing this with K'Sante for almost two years, and with others before him. Deep down, they are all proud, selfish, frivolous, vulnerable, easy to be blackmailed. I say whatever I want, they pretend they don't believe it at first; and so I've already put several of these inside my pocket. It won’t be any different with Kayn.”
“It doesn’t matter to me. I'm giving you all this speech because if you stop seeing Kayn as a contract and start seeing him as a friend or a victim or who knows what else, you’re one step away from jeopardizing everything and I won’t allow it. Go ahead, I trust you because you get the job done. But if you’re not the man we need for the job when we ask you to be, you’re done. Zed made the same mistakes you’re making, only you could be on the path of doing even worse.”
“Well, I want nothing more than to make our money. Let me work the way I know how. So you take care of the contracts and I convince everyone.” Yone's voice was stern. “I just called to let you know and to remind you to keep away for the while.”
“Good luck, pretty boy.” She hung up suddenly and Yone put his cell phone in his pocket. Deep down, he wanted to throw it against the nearest wall.
For the while, he would just leave the airport with the car Irelia had rented for him to go the hotel room. After dropping off his suitcase in the hotel room, he went down to the lobby again, got in the car, and drove straight to the restaurant she had recommended when she researched the city.
Yone had two ways of doing things, and both were somewhat drastic. But he never left a place with a 'no' stuck in his throat. He'd spent the night ensuring what he needed to keep Zed from trying to deny him something, and now he had everything, so he was good to go.
When he noticed, it was about two in the morning, and a bit too late to call anyone now. He could reach out for the security guards of the night shift, but it wasn’t about that. Just a report wouldn’t do much. He truly wanted to stop thinking about whatever it was that Kayn could be doing or thinking now.
Another night barely sleeping, and what he needed from the next day would be provided with make up and cold brew.
In the middle of the morning, there Yone was, in the right address.
He had parked the rental car at the curb; he didn't like the model chosen. He had just taken a shower and didn't like the way his hair looked when he used a hotel blow dryer. He didn't like the combination of his shoes and his tie. But damn, he hadn't liked anything at all. He just wished he wouldn’t need to be there.
But he was, he had to be, and he was right in front of Zed’s house.
When he rang the doorbell, a cold wind ruffled the hair in his ponytail. Yone just looked at the big two-story house, with bricks and flowers on the porch. What a welcoming house for such a difficult meeting.
And then, Zed who opened the door. He was wearing casual clothes, but he didn't feel like the laid-back style of someone who was idle at home: they were perfectly pressed and he was wearing closed shoes.
“Oh, hello, Yone.” His voice was full of some kind of irony, but he didn't smile or sneer at all.
“Good morning, Zed. May I borrow a little of your time?”
“I’m thinking you’re not exactly asking. But I thought you would be here sooner. Your flight arrived here yesterday, right?”
Yone hesitated for a moment. He hadn't warned Zed at any time; he wanted to take him by surprise. But he didn't allow himself to show his discomfiture.
“I needed to go somewhere first.”
“To what do I owe the honor of your visit, Yone?” Zed crossed his arms and leaned on the doorstep.
“I need to discuss some important terms with you. Would you like to join me for a coffee? I guarantee it is in your best interest.”
Zed never smiled, especially when he read the subtle threat that existed in the tone of voice of that tall man at his door.
"I don’t like coffee. I have better drinks." He have his back and left the door open. "Come inside, let’s talk here and get it over with once and for all.”
Chapter Text
Yone walked through the gate and, looking confident, excused himself and entered his living room. It was a large room covered in wallpaper with wide, moss-green vertical stripes, and Yone couldn't imagine how beautiful it looked when he would dread such description. An immense L-shaped couch cut the room, and three other armchairs were arranged around the dark wooden coffee table with a glass top. The unlit fireplace served as a resting place for photos of him and people Yone knew to be his family. Next to a simple piano in also dark wooden tones, a bar with many bottles of different liquors and shiny glasses. Zed wasn’t looking at Yone as he walked in and vociferated.
"Find yourself a seat while I’ll grab us something to drink. Just don’t waste my time and go straight to the point already.”
Scrutinizing the room, Yone chose one of the armchairs to sit in, while Zed walked to the bar.
“I don’t want anything, thank you.” Yone said, pretending not to notice the animosity. He then sighed and cleared his throat. "Very well, then. You know, Zed, I need to recognize your work with Kayn. You guys have always gotten along very well and it's thanks to you that we have Kayn in the position he is in. I'm also aware of how your relationship with Kayn was like, and I know that-”
“You know so much that you cut off all means for me to communicate with Kayn as soon as you and your crew took over.”
Zed’s acid remark wasn’t unexpected, but Yone wanted to keep it as cordial as he can for as long as he can. So he would play good cop first.
"Well, yes." Yone shrugged. “You know well that external connections need to go through screening. And all things considered, with the psychological situation he was in, he would be completely irascible and impossible to work with if he was still under such a strong influence like yours.”
Serving himself some whisky, Zed snorted.
“Yone, honestly, I don’t owe that stupid record company anything anymore and I don’t need to walk on eggshells when I talk to you. I detest you and you despise me, so don’t play nice. Cut to the chase.”
“Well, we’re resorting to anger very quickly in this conversation. Is there any way we could de-escalate? I would love not to have to bring this conversation to another level.”
But Zed was just holding the glare at him.
“Please, do.”
“What?”
“Come on, threaten me already. I won’t tell you shit if you don’t show me your hand, so just do it already.”
“Excuse me?” Yone narrowed his eyes. He understood it very well, but he can’t admit it.
Zed returned from the bar with a wide glass in his hand.
“You know what's funny?” But he wasn't laughing, or even smiling. “Since you were little, you were raised to believe that you are a genius and that you are better than other people. You haven’t washed a single pair of your own underwear in your entire life and you’re coming to my house because you secretly want me to tell you what to do about Kayn.” He said as he sit down on the sofa in front of Yone.
Yone just nodded as if it had been any other regular remark.
"You’re right, isn’t it funny that even with the name you have and how competent you are, still you’ve been having some trouble to find someone else to work with? I wonder why would it be. How was it with that agence you had a meeting at on Monday? You know what’s a coincidence? I was about to send their director an e-mail, but I’ll wait until we finish this conversation. I’m sure it will help me to choose its content.”
Their glares exchanged silent hateful accusations and Zed held the glass of whiskey tighter.
“There you go. I was wondering what it would be that you’d blackmail me with. Not that I didn’t know you all were the ones fucking me over, but if you aren’t bluffing you’re even more of a scoundrel than I’d imagine at first.”
Yone tilted his head, keeping the unfazed semblant.
“What are you talking about? I’m just here to ask a few questions, we’re just having a conversation, right? I’d hate to have someone so admirable as you in our field as an enemy. I’d love to recommend you if we’re friends and I’d truly hate it if people got to know you’re hard to collaborate with. Don’t you have another interview on Friday?”
The whole expression in Zed’s face contorted and he closed his free hand in a fist. From someone who knew Zed to be a really impassive, collected person, he was obviously seething in anger and it was almost scary. It was all very personal to him, and Yone noticed himself to have swallowed hard, what he hoped Zed wouldn’t notice.
“I will tell you what you want. But first you listen to me.”
“Fair enough, I guess.”
After taking a deep breath, Zed let it all out.
“You're going to go down so, so bad, Yone, and I can’t even pretend I won’t love to watch it. You don't even know what you're doing. You are only where you are because you are K'Sante’s lover and you manage to pretend that you have intelligence, confidence and a firm hand when all you have is filthy rich parents, lack of shame and a lot of arrogance.”
Yone raised his eyebrows, sighing.
“I imagine that it had been stuck in your throat for a while. No hard feelings about that.”
But Zed definitely wasn’t done, and was pointing at him by then.
“It's true, when you use sex to get what you want, you quickly get to places you never thought you would be. But how long are you planning on being K'Sante's little boy toy for? Who will be the first one to get tired of this game? And Kayn?” Zed even laughed this time, a sour, scornful scoff. “Damn, I hope you’re not having sex with him. It would be fun to watch how bad you’ll come out of this, but Kayn doesn’t deserve this. Then I’m warning you: people have tried to get closer to Kayn like this and it had never ended well.”
“Are you done?” Yone shrugged, resting his elbow on the arm of the chair and his head in his closed hand, sighing purposefully while pretending to be bored.
The older man gritted his teeth, then snorted and drank a sip from his glass.
“You know, at the very least I can lay in my bed with and sleep well every night, Yone. And you?"
Yone's smile trembled for one second, then he huffed.
“I sleep very easily and very well, but thank you for your concern”, he blatantly lied. “Now that you’ve vented, let’s start, shall we?” he returned to his serious tone. “Tell me what you think is important to know about his past. You can start by Heartsteel.”
Sighing, Zed let his body sink into the sofa's cushions, took yet another sip of his whiskey and shook his head.
“Yeah, that will be a long conversation. I'm sure you don't know anything about Kayn other than what you've been told, and I need to tell you some things about him first."
“Alright. Whatever you think is best."
"Okay. A part of it I guess you kind of know. Kayn left home when he was fourteen. He says he took his mother's jewels with him and stole his step-father's money and guitar, but I don't think a family in their financial condition would have kept jewels. He’s never studied music, never went to college; everything he learned was on his own. He was barely nineteen when I met him, and I wasn't his first agent; K’Sante 'knew' him for some time before passing the job to me, and so did Evelynn and Akali. He said he had seen potential in the kid, but I thought that it was probably just the same potential he saw in you."
"Stay focused, Zed."
Rolling his eyes, he resumed the story.
"The Shieda I met already had the injury in his left eye, and the story I know about it is the same one the media knows; it’s allegedly an injury from a bar fight. He also had a long hair he used to keep braided, really not well taken care of, because he kept on dying it every color he could. He wore wristbands almost up his entire arm, and the guitar was already all beaten up. He was handsome, of course, but even a beauty like Kayn’s not hard to find in the industry we work in, and it’s easy to find someone who cleans up nicer. So when they assigned me his management, I was wondering why the hell they wanted him, specifically, and if it might had been only K’Sante’s biases . I judged him and drew up a whole profile; but as soon as I got to know him better, I realized how wrong I was and how right they were for choosing him, whichever reason they could have had by then. Kayn is truly one of a kind, and we can all see it. He was really talented with the guitar, and I was sure that if he studied more, he could become a prodigy very quickly, and so he did. And I think we're so used to Kayn’s voice now that we don't stop to pay attention to it anymore. When we're just talking to him, it's deep, a bit husky and gritty, it vibrates low in our ears. But when I heard him singing for the first time, I got goosebumps, I shivered so hard it hurt. He has such a range, he is visceral and charming, he’s got that stage presence and charisma that is really hard to find. But it wasn’t all. He learned fast, very fast, everything, from social rules to terms of a contract, and he also endured more pain and worked harder than anyone I’ve ever met. In a few months, I had taught him everything I could, and he had learned more than he should have. We got good shows, sponsorship, and he wouldn’t mind the way he had to do things, if it was screwing someone over, or just straight up screwing someone. Kayn just wasn’t sure which path to take, or sometimes he didn’t know which was the next step; but as soon as someone gave him the right directions, he went there and did it . He was absolutely obsessed. He didn't complain, didn't swear, didn't laugh, didn't talk, didn't hesitate, didn't rest. He just… did it."
That latter description sounded strangely familiar to Yone. Close to home, actually.
"So, in your opinion, when was it that the flip switched? Was there a catalyst or was it all a gradual change?”
"In a certain way, both, but I’ll get there. Kayn was slowly realizing that he didn't have many things else to earn or conquer, that he had nothing else to do. He started drinking, partying, and sleeping with anyone and everyone who came his way, and all of this was gradual. He was getting stupid, but he also didn't need to be smart. I didn't expect anything different. I expected him to hold out for another year or two, get bored, and slowly fade from the media; the normal cycle. He has always been somehow depressed, but he was also still strong enough not to destroy himself with it, he had never truly gave in to temptation during all his career, even when he was tempted all the time by sex and cocaine. But he was strong and disciplined, so parties and some drugs haven’t brought him down, and shouldn’t harm him as much, I should just keep an eye on him. But by the beginning of this year, he completely derailed. And then, there was a catalyst for sure."
"What happened?"
"Last year, he got the news that his biological father had died, you guys know about it. Kayn made it clear that he wouldn’t go to any funeral because the man has never been his father at all, and as he heard about it, he just laughed and said ‘it was about time’. At least his denial to attend a funeral or anything alike didn’t make it into the news, even though some rabid fans have dug it out. It wouldn’t be a problem, because those same fans are already aware that Kayn’s childhood was a nightmare, even though we don’t know what has truly happened. But even though Kayn didn’t seem to care about the death itself, I think that it all made him look back at his past, at a lot of things he had been avoiding from a very young age, and, even though he didn’t care about his family, there were people he had cared about. That was he wanted me to find the whereabouts of the members of his former band. He didn’t want to meet any of them, but he wanted to help them out financially if they were going through a hard time.”
Yone just watched silently as Zed stopped and sighed, drinking another sip from his glass before continuing.
“You know, not even I knew very much about Heartsteel. They were four people, and so far, all the years I had been with Kayn, he had only mentioned their aliases, the dramatic names they all chose for themselves, which were The Prodigal Explorer, The Weapon of the Faithful and The King of the Arena. They were all teens, you wouldn’t expect much different. But they had some important meanings for those names. For Kayn, it was really important that he could protect himself using a different name. This is why it’s so hard to find true information about him even now, with the fans and media trying to investigate every dirt they could find.”
“Was Kayn’s alias Rhaast ?” Yone had to ask as his memory was suddenly invaded with the memories of one of the times he had been in Kayn’s house. Most precisely, the morning after Kayn had thrown a party, went insane from alcohol and cocaine and absolutely ruined everything his manager thought he had planned. In that moment, he had found a handwritten note with a random number that he couldn’t dial and only a cryptic sentence addressed from the Prodigal Explorer to Rhaast .
Two sides to a story,
but they never tell my
side.
The Prodigal Explorer
Zed pressed his lips together.
“Oh. Did you find it, or did Kayn tell you? I’ll bet on the first.”
Well, bingo. Zed didn’t even have to answer, it means that it was Kayn’s alias.
“I found the note in Kayn’s library, in what I assume to be your belongings.”
“Yeah, that. It’s from Ezreal. If you don’t have anything else to interrupt me for, I’ll go back to telling the story so you can understand it all.”
“Please,” Yone said, once more as of he couldn't care less about Zed’s rudeness, while his whole posture was never of someone who was only asking for anything.
“So, Kayn had asked me to find the former Heartsteel members. It was hard, but I was able to find two of them: Sett and Aphelios. They were together, but they weren’t in a good shape, and they had some sketchy shit going on. Like, gambling, brawling, drugs, less about cruelty or crime and a lot about making ends meet. We couldn’t be traced to them without problem, but I did what needed to be done to get Kayn’s money to get to their accounts cleanly. Maybe we could help them get out of this, or we had just given them financing for their business. In any way, they didn’t have a lot of problems accepting the money, even though they seemed to truly hate Kayn. But they accepted it all, they signed a NDA, everything was done. They were given an opportunity, they could do whatever they wanted with it. But we still couldn’t find the person that mattered the most to Kayn, and I needed this information from them.”
“The Prodigal Explorer. For Kayn to have a song named after him…”
Yone wondered how the original song for the Prodigal Explorer could be. The released song was about exploring and finding home in the unknown, but he knew that the song had been changed. Maybe it had been too visceral.
“Yeah. Like I’d said, the silly aliases and second names thing had important meanings for them. They also did that because there was a trans man with them, and they wanted to normalize being called something other than what’s in your birth certificate. Being able to actually accept who you truly are and decide who and how you want to be. Even if a part of it was a bit silly, with the dramatic names and all, it was a homage. The man we were looking for was the Prodigal Explorer, and he was called Ezreal. The thing was, Kayn had never asked for his deadname. Kayn told me that it was because it didn’t matter and he wanted to respect Ezreal’s identity, but since he had never gone through legal transition, it was nearly impossible for me to find him without it. So, when I contacted Sett, and I assure you that man can be truly scary, he was seething. But still he told us that the last time he heard of him, Ezreal had left a box in front of his house with some of his things. But while Ezreal had left Sett and Aphelios a lot of souvenirs, the only thing directed to Kayn, or Rhaast, was that cryptic handwritten note with a non-working phone number in it. Supposedly, it should be handed to him if he ever got to meet Kayn again.”
“Were you able to find what it was about, or to get close to it at least?”
“No. Ezreal had overdosed and died somewhere across the country, about a year before. It was too late. We believe this is why the phone didn't work anymore. I had to tell Kayn, what I did think that was my biggest mistake. Kayn wanted to find the tomb and visit it. He was in denial, he said it couldn’t be, that we would find Ezreal, that Sett and Aphelios were trying to make him suffer or to get revenge for something. But, Yone, you didn't see the scene I saw when we got there. That... you don't forget that kind of thing."
Zed paused for a moment and swallowed hard. His lips were trembling; trembling? Yes, they were trembling. He wasn't pretending; he had truly been moved by that memory, and he swallowed hard. Could it be that heavy?
"Kayn stared at the tomb for, like, forever. I swear, he was there catatonic for several minutes, I guess trying to believe that it was true, staring at the dead flowers, the pictures and his damned deadname on the tomb. And then, all of a sudden, he snapped. He picked the first stone he had seen in front of him, fell to his knees and started hitting the tombstone with it to try to carve out the deadname and carve Ezreal's name on it. He… he lost it, he was furious to see those pictures of him treated as a girl and read that name that didn’t belong to someone he knew. Try to picture him hugging a tomb and only letting go when dragged away by his own security because he was vandalizing the cemetery and bringing attention to himself. Try to picture him crying so hard he sobbed and his body was shaking. It was the saddest thing I’ve ever witnessed. At that moment, I knew it, he shattered completely. From then on, everything that was left of that insane obsession he had disappeared. He broke down. Kayn had been cracked, chipped, patched, and sutured since childhood. But after this, he simply gave in.”
Even though Yone hadn’t specialized himself in acting, obviously that during four college years spent with like-minded, committed, passionate artists, studying full time for more than eight hours a day, he would have learned it well enough in his own subjects. And there, Yone just saw in Zed a real, wholehearted reaction, of someone truly unquiet, not having any reason to fake it.
And also, even though Yone wasn't specialized in acting, no one would be able to tell how everything he was hearing was shaking him to his core. He could always play it cool, no matter how scared he felt. And that was how he was always so alone even when surrounded by people. Even when naked in the same bed as they are. Yone was never truly present with anyone.
And if he gets to think about it, it truly felt like Kayn made people feel. And not as in merely causing feelings, but carving them from inside out, bleeding them out of everyone’s open wounds. You can't help but feel, you can't escape it.
“That’s terrible. I’m sorry to hear.”
It was the best Yone could say without showing any emotion. It’s better to look absolutely heartless than to allow himself to be seen.
Shaking his head, Zed scoffed and looked away with a bitter smile.
“I can’t do shit with sorry, not even if you were actually feeling anything real. You are all vultures. Kayn had been in a crisis for some months, and you all already took me out of the job, me, the one who had been with him for all those years; they left you in my place, as if you could handle it. I just wish you wouldn’t fucking drag Kayn down the drain with you for money.”
“I do care about Kayn, Zed. I don’t expect you to believe it. But I’m thankful you helped me with it, we can all help each other.”
Zed remained silent for a few moments, but when he spoke again while staring at Yone, his voice was slightly hoarse.
“Listen, boy. I don’t want anything from you. Do you understand me? I'm not telling you all this and breaking Kayn’s trust because of your suggestions or your threats. I don't want anything from you and I’m not afraid of any of you. I just wanted you to show your hand. But in one way or another, you are responsible for Kayn now, and if you didn’t know any of this, you might make even bigger of a mess trying to find it all out, and you’ll end up making Kayn finally snap. For better or for worse, at least devise your fucking plot knowing what is at stake.”
“And that’s exactly what I intend to do. I’ll work in Kayn’s best interest.”
“You better.” Zed said, low, and then downed the rest of his drink.
Yone was trying his best to keep focused. For some reason, one that he knew, but wasn't admitting right away, he didn't want to force or to pry anymore, but he had to.
“So… Do you think it’s safe to assume that Kayn and Ezreal were lovers, or were they more like a found family?”
“I really don't know. Sett and Aphelios are a couple, but Kayn and Ezreal... I guess the only thing that’s safe to assume is that they had loved each other. That Kayn had truly loved him and that it must have been reciprocated at some point.”
“Why did Heartsteel part ways? It feels like they really cared for each other.”
“I don't know either.”
“Come on, Zed. There isn't really anything else that you know about them, or about his childhood?" Yone settled back in the armchair.
"I don't." Zed shrugged. Seeing Yone’s incredulity, he reiterated. "Kayn doesn’t tell anyone, believe me. Obviously Heartsteel breaking up involved something he hated or that he’s hated for, taking for how long it took for him to reach out. And his childhood, come on. It’s probably a shit show full of child abuse, and it isn’t something we should be digging into. What do you expect to have happened in the life of someone who says 'it's about time' when he finds out his father died? Someone who’s never visited his mother and step-father after leaving and barely sends them any money, preferring to help his old bandmates instead? This is something we shouldn’t mess with. And I doubt you can ask Kayn anything about that without getting punched in the face.”
Yone nodded, sighing. This was so, so delicate, and he had to keep attention on the practical matters.
“I see. But I'm sure there are more details you haven't told me."
"Yone, I was playing poker back when I was a teen and all you were sucking on was your mother's breast. Don't come at me with bluffs. This is all I know, or all I’ll tell. I'm the end, there’s hardly any difference. So you should go your own way.”
“Are you sure you want me to leave like this? Don't you think it would be better if you collaborate now, so you can be employed by Monday?”
Zed got up to his feet and gestured to the front door.
“Yone, don't embarrass yourself. I’ve already told you that I don't care about your threats. You may look nice but you look like a pouting toddler. Actually, just leave my house before I lose patience.”
Dealing his last card, Yone got up as well, but lowered his voice.
"It's very clear that we despise each other, Zed. That's why I don't want to have to come back here, and I don't think you want me to either. I just want to know if there's anything else – anything at all – that you can say or give me that would help Kayn." Yone knew he had more to add: it didn't have to be a fact, it could be a personal conclusion. "Do it for Kayn."
"I guarantee nothing from you will help Kayn, Yone. You came into my house to try to blackmail me, that's how you treat everyone and how you're going to treat Kayn: with extortion, threats, sex, and indifference. That’s all you have to give.”
"If I were indifferent to Kayn, Zed, do you think I'd bother to travel from Los Angeles to your house to listen to your insults and endure your bittered rudeness?"
"I don't know what your plans are, Yone, but I don't trust you. Regardless, I have nothing more to add. Are we done here, or is there something else you want to take from me?"
Yone looked at Zed from head to toe. He could let it out a little bit, if only, because by then it was making him choke.
“There’s hardly anything else to be taken away from you, Zed. You continue like this and all you’ll have to your name is debt and your family disappointed in you.”
"Oh, speaking of disappointment, have you called your father lately?”
And then, Yone felt himself finally losing his temper, if only for a moment allowing all the rage to overflow.
“Maybe I could call your ex-wife instead. The one you lost while you were too busy working very hard to give Kayn every single piece of information he needed to ruin his life. You talk about me, but if all you say is true, who truly is responsible for Kayn’s breakdown, huh? Who was the one who couldn't properly handle information around him and gave him way more than he’s able to deal with? Isn't it tiring to ruin everything around you, Zed? Maybe you should stop blaming us for the loss of your oh so precious job. If you didn't fuck it all up, none of this would have happened and you wouldn't be drinking whiskey by yourself in the middle of the morning on a weekday."
After Yone said it, he himself knew he stepped over the line.
Nostrils flaring and teeth clenching, Zed stepped forward, towards Yone, staring him dead in the eyes.
“Seriously, Yone. You have a minute to get out of my sight and never come back."
Yone nodded and gave his back, every step hard and heavy as if he wanted to carve his footprints on the floor. He found himself kicked out of Zed’s house, and crossed the sidewalk with a wide range of all the worst feelings whirlwinding inside his chest. It was like one of those dreams where he was naked in public, with nothing to do, and wished he could cover himself with something. His personality had been stripped bare and everything in his perception was violated with realistic accusations and violent information. A huge lump formed in his throat. Something was slowly burning his pride: he had been so aggressive because there's nothing more irritating than an inconvenient truth – and Zed was right about almost everything he said. Yone wouldn't admit it, not even to the steering wheel of that stupid car he drove, but he knew what was true and what wasn't.
He didn't like when everything changed so drastically; he knew he didn't like that city as well and what it would provoke. Everything had really gone out of his control, and what he had discovered was spinning in his mind. He wanted to fix things for Kayn, but how could he? There was so much he didn't know, and even with Zed, none of what he knew was useful.
He opened the window to the cold wind and assured himself it would be the last time in his life he would set foot in that place. Suddenly, it seemed much easier to ignore Kayn’s past. Now it just seemed like too much to worry about. But he knew that, if placed in a similar situation again, he would do it again, and that now it was too late to regret. He knew his interest was even sharper, and that regret was neither profitable nor productive, just verbose.
They had a music video to shoot, but, at that moment, Yone couldn't gather up the strength to care about it. While his mind was still fragile, he didn't care about what he needed to do. He almost laughed when he realized; he felt like the only thing that could satisfy him at the moment was a very careless and wholehearted jamming session, playing music without a goal or a meaning.
Maybe he would go to Kayn’s house on the Sunday and they could do that again.
It could be fun, couldn't it?
Chapter Text
Even if he really had no appetite, Yone went to a restaurant Irelia had found for him to have some lunch and try his best to work a little, even when his head was spinning and he truly felt over the edge. Inside, the aroma of spices and sauces mingled in the air, but not even that was enough for his hunger to come back. People chatted animatedly at their tables adorned with crisp linens, and he felt even more out of place in such a warm scenario. He’d wish to leave that city as fast as he could. He placed a quick order as soon as he sat down, and he took his notebook from his briefcase and his cell phone from his jacket. He dialed Irelia’s number while with the other hand he opened his emails.
It rang several times, and when Yone thought about hanging up, the phone was answered. Not by his assistant, though, but by no one else than Kayn himself.
“Oh, Yone, leave the woman alone a little bit.” Even though they seemed rude, Kayn's words sounded amused. “I’ll give you myself the report on everything we did together.”
It was insane to have heard so much about Kayn, so many heavy things, and now listening to his voice so lighthearted. It took him a couple of seconds to even answer.
“Kayn? Where is Irelia?”
“We are in my bed, she can’t answer right now, her hands are busy.” The sound heard through the phone seemed more distant, as if the device had been moved away from Kayn's mouth. But the next sound was someone rummaging through something upholstered. “She’s trying to take the phone away from my ear right now, but I won’t let her.”
Kayn's voice sounded hesitant and there was a laugh in his throat.
“What the hell are you up to, Kayn?” Yone sighed.
“Give me the phone so I can talk to him, come on!” Irelia’s voice sounded shrill on the other end of the line.
“We’re playing video game, Yone.” Kayn said, through the phone.
"What?"
“She was almost winning the League, and now she's desperate on my side thinking you're going to hang her with her guts.”
Video games. He sounded like such a playful, carefree boy. How come? He was always trying to remind himself to act natural. Maybe he shouldn’t have called anyone so early from coming back from Zed’s house.
“It's good that she thinks so. She’s not supposed to be playing video game when it’s working hours anyway.”
“Don’t be such a bitch. Besides, I told her that if she didn't play Need For Speed with me I would put her in my car and we would play it live on Malibu streets. She didn’t have any choice.”
It just made Yone close his eyes and breathe in and out.
“You promised you would be nice to my assistant.”
“I don’t remember having made such a promise. Besides, even if I did, it’s not like we like to tell the truth all the time for each other, right, Yone?”
It made Yone swallow hard, but he wouldn’t give himself away.
“Since you don’t want her to answer, could you tell me what else you two have been up to?”
“Nothing much, but she’s truly amazing. We had dinner that night and talked a lot. Yesterday she had lunch here as well and I told her she could work in my library if she felt like it, so she did. We had some drinks after your precious working hours. Today I got bored and slightly blackmailed her to play with me. After getting absolutely humiliated in a dancing game, here I am trying to get my dignity back.”
Even though Irelia had given him the daily report the day before, and factually it all matched, the way that Kayn described it sounded like they had been friends since forever.
“Looks like you two are having a lot of fun.”
“We are. She’s awesome.”
“Could I talk to my assistant now?”
“You won’t get jealous and take it on her, will you?” Kayn’s voice was so teasing it made Yone grit his teeth.
“Don’t worry. I loved to hear about it. My biggest fear was the two of you not getting along with each other.” You’re telling a lot of lies today, Yone, even for your standards. “ And I wouldn’t reprimand a job well done, it deserves praise instead.”
With that, Kayn finally handed the phone back to the owner and, anxiously, Irelia started talking to her boss again.
While she walked around the room with the phone in her ear, Kayn threw his body on his bed, looking at the pause screen.
Irelia was indeed an amazing woman. She was smart and well-spoken, kind and determined. She looked like a really decent person, too, which was rare, even though he was aware that people could fool even him. She had a good sense of humor, she was beautiful with those big blue eyes and long straight black hair. Fuck it, she was also really hot, owner of quite a pair of masterful thighs.
She was really remarkable. And that was exactly the reason why she bored him to death.
He couldn’t bear having to be kind to her anymore and exchange all those unbearable cordialities only so that he could try to get on Yone’s nerves.
Those couple of days had been very, very telling for Kayn.
Maybe Yone was exactly what he needed now. When he was busy either hating him, attacking him or dancing around him to provoke him, things were interesting, like they hadn’t been in a long time. Everyone either did everything he wanted, how he wanted and the moment he wanted, or controlled him like a fucking toddler while talking to him that way, too. Zed was someone he had learned to care about, and thankfully it doesn't seem to be reciprocated, because he can just fuck off, then. Yone being the crooked, evil person that he is takes away all of his guilt in dragging him down with him, and he really wanted to ruin his manager in every possible way.
He was dying to see him sobbing and whimpering under his body. His hair was so beautiful and so soft, so perfect to wrap around his hand and tug. He hadn’t been this horny for someone in a long time. To be honest, he couldn't even remember if he had ever even felt it like that. So crude, so fierce, so violent.
Was it a bad idea? Of course it was. Too bad he loved bad ideas.
He couldn't stop thinking about Yone, and he wasn't stupid enough not to notice he was also feeling a lot of other things he didn't want towards him, so he’d better ride it already and have as much fun as he could while he can. He had nothing left to lose. He couldn’t care less about his career, his dignity, there’s hardly anything else worth saving. If he fucks Yone up, that’s only fair, that’s what you get from playing your hand like he does. You reap what you sow.
If Yone fucks him up instead, well. He is used to it. He can bear so much already.
And if anything is way too hard now, there's always the easy way out, one he’s been craving for a while now.
It’s a win-win scenario, as far as he can tell.
***
Throughout the day, Yone had trouble executing things that would be absolutely easy for him. He would be back in the morning and he had an entire day to do stuff he should be able to do in a morning. The only thing he had to do was assure information and make a few contacts to ensure his influence in that city to keep control of Zed if needed, aware that it would be needed.
Even when a part of him knew that it would be better for Kayn to meet Zed. But it would be the definitive decision for him to ruin everything he’s built so far. He had no doubt that Zed would kick him out of sight at a moment's notice the minute Kayn is at a hand’s reach.
In the afternoon, Irelia had sent him a message, with a video along with it
[Irelia]: Kayn wants me to post it on his Instagram.
[Irelia]: I know we probably shouldn’t but he’s being
[Irelia] persistent
Before answering, Yone watched the video. It was a video made by Kayn where he has a microphone in hand and he’s pointing at the screen of one of the huge TVs he has. There’s a score from apparently a game in there, and he’s both laughing and pretending to complain about the fact that his manager had just gotten a better score in the karaoke than he did while playing his own song.
His manager . Those were his words, “my manager”, when referring to Irelia.
Yone watched it a few times more. Then he grinned and answered the texts.
[Yone]: Cut off the last part where it shows the screen way too much not to bring too much attention to the game
[Yone]: And post it.
[Irelia]: Are you sure?
[Yone]: It’s a very lighthearted video
[Yone]: The fans will have a field day with it
[Yone]: And it’s Kayn's account after all
[Yone]: We can curate it but it’s good for him to have some playful things there as well
[Irelia]: Alright, then. I'll do it.
Yone put his phone inside his pocket again and it all would amuse him greatly in any other scenario. Kayn not being truly violent or irascible, but acting like the little brat, trying to annoy him, begging to be put in his place. It was frankly the type of game he had been loving to play before. He wished he weren't seeing him in such a vulnerable way after all he’s heard that morning. That Kayn wasn't made of a million broken pieces put together in his mind right now.
The rest of the day would unravel just as exhausting, but eventually everything he needed to do was done, including daily remote work that he would still have to continue doing even while in a trip. Yone was back to the hotel room wanting to have a drink, but he didn’t want to order anything there. He just went for a shower and it was about eight p.m. when he was already on his black silk pajamas on the hotel bed.
There was no way he would actually sleep now, or probably at all. He was tired, though, and he laid down with his phone in hands.
Some minutes later, he saw himself making a video call.
“You surely are pushy.” Kayn already said right away as he answered. “Missing me much?”
Kayn was shirtless, or more, as far as he could see in the video. He was on his bed already as well, the white pillowcases contrasting with his colorful hair.
“A little, if I’m to be honest.” Yone double bluffed, smirking. He know Kayn wouldn’t believe him if he said it, but it was actually true. “You aren’t busy, are you?”
“As if you had ever cared. What do you want?” Kayn crossed one arm behind his head.
“Just to check on you. Was the rest of the day as fun with your new favorite manager?” Yone entertained his stunts.
“It was. She’s great. The only good thing about you coming back is that now she’s not working directly with me and it isn’t harassment if I ask her out.”
Yone’s tone then was firmer, even if never truly getting angry or anything.
"You can do as you wish. I let you do your little play, but I am your manager. Don't forget that."
"Uh, yes, daddy," Kayn laughed. “Continue talking to me like that and I’ll have my hand inside my pants in no time.”
“Oh, so you’re not naked already. What a pity.”
“I was about to go to the shower, though. Want me to continue the call from there?”
“Tempting.” But Yone changed the tone quickly for him to not take it seriously. “But I actually also wanted to check if we can have dinner tomorrow. I have some ideas for you to have more creative input in the videoclip without having to interfere with planning and schedule.”
Maybe it could be different. Maybe they could turn it all back around. Yone had never given up on anything he had set his intentions on before.
Kayn lifted his brows, interested.
“Just the two of us or will I have to deal with Akali and Senna as well?”
“Just us.”
“Creative decisions without production director Akali? She’ll have you for dinner.”
Yone chuckled.
“I’ll take my chances.”
"You know, your Michelin-starred restaurants do have amazing food, but can’t we get a take out and eat somewhere I don’t have to be wearing a suit?”
The idea of asking for takeout in a two-star Michelin restaurant as if he’s at in a drive-thru at Wendy’s made Yone laugh.
"Ok, I may have an idea.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Once more, Kayn laughed.
That was what he had meant with Yone being what he needed right now.
Chapter Text
The dinner that Yone had promised would come earlier in that day than Kayn had predicted, but with the early notice he was ready for it nevertheless, snickering at how silly he looked from the moment he got the call until the moment the housekeeper announced that Yone was waiting for him by the driveway. He did so because it was funny and despicable that he was up to get out of that house, when the late afternoon sky usually burns his eyes. That he was wearing fucking linen pants and sandals, for God’s sake. He might as well go wearing a summer dress and flowers in his head, waiting for daddy to spoil him, but he was just in some smart casual clothes that felt like a Malibu rich guy uniform, and nothing whatsoever he would feel truly comfortable wearing. At least it wasn't formal attire, he’d try to convince himself.
But Yone waiting for him leaning on a black Maserati could be sporting the same type of outfit, same linen and high-end cotton blend, same palette, and still look like he’s a model. As always, painfully cool.
It was easier as always to picture himself tearing those clothes apart than to allow himself to sigh at the view. So he’d better put on his sunglasses, just like his manager has his own on.
Yone hoped that Kayn wouldn't make questions about his trip, even though he had the lie all set up to be told. He hoped to not need to utter it, but thankfully Kayn didn't seem to care enough to ask.
With no more than a “let’s go?” and a hum exchanged, Kayn hopped into the car on the passenger’s seat. As soon as he entered, Kayn started looking around. The car had a faint smell of coffee to it, a bit fresh still.
“What were you listening to?” Without a question or a warning, Kayn just pressed ‘play’ on the stereo of the car, only to listen to his own voice blasting, near the chorus of a song from Blade’s Reach.
The way Kayn stared at him dramatically made Yone laugh.
“Well…” Yone lifted his brows, maneuvering the car to go back to the road.
“That’s awkward. Now it looks like you’re a bit obsessed about me, you know?”
It made Yone laugh a little bit more, which Kayn noticed not to be that common.
“Like I said, I was thinking about certain things we could work out for the clip if you want it to have more creative input.”
“And you think this is wise, when we’re less than a week away from shooting a music video that was supposed to be ready already?” Kayn said as he turned the stereo off because the echo of his own voice was annoying him.
“That was what I was about to say. I have the script with me and I've identified certain key points where we could make some significant changes without compromising the project at all.”
“Why are you opening fire with Akali, when she was the one who had it all under control? I believe you may know what you’re doing, but I don't think she’ll be happy with you rubbing your Juilliard ass all over her thing. I don't know for how long you’ve been working together but you don't want that bitch angry.”
It got Yone to snort. Then, after a sight, he resumed speaking, as they were getting out of the house to reach the road. He wanted to get to know something else from his perspective.
“Didn't you use to work well with her before, in your first album?”
“Yeah, Akali was great. She’s crazy and has the most creative and fierce ideas ever, we rocked that shit. That was until Evelynn made it into the board and owned everything else. Now she’s her little puppy, like you. And now it’s selling more, so nobody cares about what I think and I don't have enough motivation to care.”
“Well, that’s exactly what we have to work with. Rest assured that I’m not defying her at all. I’m not actually about to change anything she worked on, I wouldn't do that to her and to the whole schedule, it would be shooting myself in the foot.”
Kayn sighed and looked through the window instead, crossing his arms.
“Even so, I don't think it’s worth the headache. I’ll film this shit and get it over with. I wasn't invited to the writing anyway and a patchwork will be even more frustrating.”
“They had told me that you refused to be a part of it to begin with.”
“I might have, actually. I haven't been truly sober in a while now. I probably just told them all to fuck off at some point and they continued without having to drag the unproductive pothead along with them”
“Well, I've worked with a lot of celebrities too high on meds and cocaine to even know who they are. You are not like them, and you’re definitely not a lost cause. We started off with the wrong foot, let’s work the way back. I'm your manager and together you’ll be back in shape in no time.”
Kayn didn't answer. Instead, he stared hard at his manager's face and took a longer moment to reply.
“What are you up to, Yone?”
Yone frowned and took a look at Kayn by his side, noticing him grinning.
“What do you mean?”
“Are you playing good cop now because you can't keep up the cold man act after we made sweet MDMA love in a hotel room in Vegas? That’s how you got to K’Sante’s heart, too?”
“I changed my mind about you and your work, that’s about it. You can't be threatened to do anything, you’d rather go down swinging, and you seemed very willing to take me with you. The other option is: I'll fight for you with them, and none of us brings the other down. I’m willing to take the shot if you are.”
But Kayn scoffed.
“Oh, I see. You’re so good for me, daddy.”
Yone noticed the irony in his tone, but didn't notice the movement of his hand until Kayn was grabbing his thigh. It made him gasp and take one hand off the wheel to hold his wrist, keeping that hand from moving.
“Kayn…”
What was particularly fun for Kayn was that Yone’s hand didn't allow him to slide it up to his groin, but also didn't let him pull it back. How very telling.
“Whatever you say, you know? You tell me and I’ll obey, I have to be a good boy for such a good daddy.”
Yone finally removed his hand from his thigh and went back to grabbing the steering wheel with both hands. Even though both knew that Kayn was being sarcastic to mess with him, he was also messing with him for other reasons.
“We should talk about it all when we get there, ok?”
Kayn clicked with his tongue and looked away, resting his gaze on the Pacific ocean as it could be seen through the window.
“Whatever. Speed it up, then. You drive like an old lady.”
Yone obeyed, stepping on the accelerator a bit more, the black car gliding down a sun-drenched road.
“Still mild, but that’s more like it. When was it the last time you opened this roof?”
It took Yone a moment to realize he was talking about the convertible roof of his car.
Yone thought for a moment and bit down a grin.
“I don’t think I’ve ever done it. It messes up my hair way too much.”
“Well, you know what will happen now.” Kayn presses the glowy button on the screen car panel, and the convertible roof smoothly begins to retract. As the roof folds away, the warm breeze tousles their hair and the vibrant surroundings become even more vivid. Not only Kayn ignored Yone’s complaints about that, but made sure to create more of them by reaching out for his hair, holding the silk scrunchie he was tying his hair with and pulling it, freeing his hair to the late afternoon wind on the highway.
That was dangerous. He was very beautiful, and even more with his hair freed like that. He may not like the Californian heat, but its light certainly looks amazing on him.
Thankfully, the wind was too loud in their ears for them to listen even to their thoughts. And to make sure of it, Kayn picked up his phone to choose something else to connect to the car’s stereo. Something that didn't mean much, or that didn't mean anything at all. Something they didn't have to pay attention to at all, when the wind was buzzing loud in their ears, but makes it up for the supposed mood and aesthetic of driving along the Pacific shore in a convertible Maserati.
It was all about the aesthetic, in the end; all about enjoying the ridiculousness of extravagance. And after deciding it wasn't of use to get angry by how messy he will turn out when they arrive, Yone had to admit that the wind in his hair felt truly amazing. He glanced at Kayn, who had crossed his arms on the now open window of the car, looking at the ocean. So, he took a deep breath to pretend he wasn't about to sigh at the view.
Sometimes it’s not about working hard and bleeding out so you can be someone in life. It may come the time when you’re already that someone, and you need to learn how to step on the breaks to seize the view and the moment. Or better still, speed it up, enjoying the road while you’re on it, because that’s all you have now.
***
The place they arrived at was a beach club, which intrigued Kayn right away. The pristine white sands stretching along the view invited anyone to kick off their shoes and feel the warmth beneath their feet. But neither of them had said to truly enjoy the beach.
As Yone identified himself at the entrance, they left the car for the valet to park. Sadly for Kayn, Yone tied up his hair again with another silk scrunchie he picked from his tote bag. while they were guided further into the club. The reception had live music filling the air, which wasn't very agreeable to Yone, who could tell even the slightest out of tune sound made. While they were there, since they would be away from the reception soon, he tried not to allow himself to be annoyed, focused on the comfortable sound of the ocean that made for the background song, a soothing backdrop to the incoming evening.
They were guided to the outside once more, now to inside the club and they could stand before it's beach. There, a private deck extended towards the beach, equipped with comfortable lounge chairs and umbrellas, and lavish cabanas dotted the shoreline, to which a sand-free path guided the way. As the sun was dipping in the horizon, casting a golden glow across the beach, Kayn wondered if that madman had really had the audacity to bald-facedly take him to what he would only describe as a fucking honeymoon cabana. Quietly he followed Yone, who exchanged random words of politeness with the server. With his hands on the pockets of his linen pants biting down a laugh at his own thought: luckily I douched before I came here, and it wasn't about only taking a shower.
As they walked the path, nestled among swaying palm trees and overlooking the waters of the ocean there was the cabana, and in its deck there was a dinner table for two ready with the
smaller ones set with fresh fruit, chilled drinks, and snacks. Nearby, a discreetly placed sound system softly played soothing music, adding to the ambiance of relaxation and tranquility.
There weren't descriptively romantic decorations there, but it would be nevertheless. It was adorned with flowing white curtains that billowed gently in the breeze, which would offer them privacy. The exterior was decorated with tropical accents, such as lush greenery and colorful flowers.
When finally the server left them alone, informing them that dinner will be prepared right away and served soon, Kayn finally said something, as both were still standing on that deck.
“Let me guess: you brought me to the most romantic place you could think of to inspire me to comply with making a cheesy ass music video?”
This was so inaccurate that Yone had to think that it was Kayn’s way of telling how romantic he had found that whole scenario.
“I just thought you might need some fresh air, that’s all. Irelia had told me you spent all the time inside.”
“Weren’t you the one who doesn’t like the beach to begin with?”
“I don’t like it very much, yes. But I can’t deny that the view is amazing. And their service is great.”
Kayn looked around and shrugged.
“Yeah, you did better than the luxury restaurant, but you’re still too uptight.” Kayn plopped down on the comfortable upholstered chair on one side of the table. “You know, you don't have to take me to dates to fuck me. I'm a really easy lay.”
Yone smiled and nodded, pulling his other chair and sitting there.
“Maybe I just happen to like your company, even though you drive me crazy.”
It made Kayn scoff.
“I know I’m hard to resist. It’s my Tasmanian devil charm.” Kayn reached out for the champagne glasses on a bucket with ice that was near them. He opened it up while Yone was picking up both his tablets and searching for his stuff inside his bag.
“Here, you can have this one.” He offered Kayn one of the tablets, but as Kayn picked it up, he left it by the side of his plate on the table, back to grabbing the champagne bottle.
“I’ll be listening.”, he said while filling Yone’s crystal champagne glass.
“Won’t you follow along? You should give it attention, it is important for you.”
“Then you had better explain really well, hadn't you?” Kayn leaned back and started drinking the champagne straight from the bottle.
It took Yone a moment, but he resumed the subject. Even though Kayn didn't seem that interested, he wasn't dismissing it after all. They talked a lot about everything related to the video and the song, and Yone felt like that nonchalance of his was only something else he could use to protect himself. When he can't make his own music, when he’s lost everything that inspired him once, when he felt completely alone and he didn't want to trust anyone else.
Yone had an ability to work with people’s weak spots. He could identify them and use them to his purposes, even if with certain people that is harder and requires actual field work.
He was confident that he was earning Kayn’s trust, little by little.
And what would he do with it, eventually?
It all boiled down to how Kayn would respond. Would he work well, would he turn against himself once more?
And he really wanted him to take it seriously, but he can't force it. Instead, he could enjoy the fact that his body language shows he is relaxed, his eyes are focused on him, and they are talking through the evening and through all the dinner, dessert and one bottle of champagne. On the horizon, the sun is setting in shimmering gold amidst the crashing waves and Kayn is listening to him, the same shine cast in his eyes. From where Yone stands, he can see every shade of violent colors in his eyes, from the blood-red to the green in his irises.
“You should let your hair loose.”
Kayn said, out of nowhere, when Yone was talking about post-production, and it took his manager a longer while to understand, and yet a confused hum was all he had to offer.
“Hm?”
“I’d leave it loose. You must go through so much trouble to keep it flawless like that, why would you keep it tied? Mine was almost as long as yours when I was younger, I liked it, but it was work for sure.” Then he scoffed. “But you already know that, right?”
“I did. I didn't know how you used to feel about it, though. And that you liked mine this much.”
Kayn looked at the smirk on Yone’s lips, and got up from his chair. His eyes had seemed to found a prey, or he was tired of them dancing around it.
Yone followed with his eyes every movement of Kayn. He watched as Kayn walked around the table and stood right beside him. He couldn't say he was truly surprised that Kayn simply straddled him on the chair, but when Kayn sat on his lap, he still felt his heart racing and he had no breath left to sigh as deeply as he needed. He swallowed hard, gazing at Kayn’s parted lips, at most trying to decide what to do with his own hands. So, he also didn't fight when he felt Kayn reaching out for the silk piece that was tying his hair up and once more in that day took it off. Long white strands slid slowly in Kayn’s fingers, and Yone finally decided that his hands should find their place on Kayn’s waist.
When their lips touched, Yone had seen it all coming, and it still felt like he was taken by surprise. His heart raced, and his mouth was taken with such tenderness that it was desperating. Kayn kisses like he sings, coming out slowly and entrancing until he’s taken you over and his presence is blasting through the roof. He slid his hands inside Kayn’s shirt because it was always safer this way, because he dealt better with sex after all. But mostly because, besides everything, the truth was that he wanted Kayn so bad that’s not even funny.
Chapter Text
Yone had had his share of partners. Throughout his life, be it for fun or for work, he’s been with many people, as not even all of them were men. And even though not all of it had been fantastic, he’s had many interesting experiences in a lot of things and had some remarkable nights already. Damn, even now; K’Sante is the person he’s supposed to be somewhat in a relationship with right now and one of the hottest men he’s ever had. He’s big, strong and does it all so well.
Then how come nothing of that compares to the feeling of Kayn on his lap like that?
He could blame the thrill of it. They were doing it while they couldn't. Not only there on the deck of a cabana in front of a beach, but at all. They could get caught, by all means. And Yone had spent so long in his life walking the line that screwing everything up like that felt absolutely delicious. Kayn’s lips felt outrageous, his muscles felt like blasphemy and if anything he wanted their touches to be the eulogy for his career if that’s what it takes, unless he wakes up from it all way too early. But it’s a hard thing to do when there’s someone on your lap already managing to make you… well, hard .
For Kayn, it was way more complicated. Way more complicated.
One could think he gets laid in a finger snap. And while it could be true, for him sex wasn't much more than another past time. At first, he’s learned that it’s something that people demand from you, because they want to use you. And after he got famous enough, he learned that it was something everyone was willing to give to him at any moment that he wanted, just like everything else.
The fact that Yone despised him, but wanted him as well; that he shouldn't be doing it, but did it anyway; it was all the most arousing experience he could have right now, and he could barely contain himself. His hands traveled on his shoulders and torso as if he could sculpt Yone’s muscles from clay. Hair felt soft and thin in Kayn’s fingers as they entangled on it, and he parted his lips to allow their tongues to touch.
When Kayn broke the kiss, catching wet breath, it was just to slide his lips to Yone’s jaw and neck. The throbbing of veins there seemed to follow the exact same violent pace of his own heartbeats. By the corner of his eye he glimpsed the shiny crimson that Yone’s lips were right now, slightly parted, and the flush of the skin his lips and tongue touched.
“Let’s take this inside, Kayn.”, he managed to growl, a vibration of his throat that Kayn felt against his lips.
He lifted his chin to breathe deep, fingers closing on the fabric of Yone's clothes while his entire body seethed. While it meant that he had to get out of Yone’s lap, it also meant that they will probably fuck already and it was all Kayn really wanted.
As Kayn got out of his lap, he nodded and walked around the table as he was followed close. Yone had reached out for his wallet left on top of the table to pick condoms inside of it, and in the meantime they had both entered the cabana.
The floor was covered in soft, plush rugs, and the walls were draped with sheer fabrics that filtered the view and the sunlight, casting inside a warm, inviting glow. Before them a comfortable seating area beckoned, with oversized cushions and throws, for lounging and soaking in the views of the beach through glass while you could even turn on an A.C.. But now, after Yone closed and locked the doors, the one breathtaking view that he would have would be of the beautiful drawing of Kayn’s back as he was taking his shirt off.
Yone stared at him for a couple of seconds that for him lasted way longer, as both were kicking of their shoes. As Kayn turned to him again, he had those precise lines, inquiring eyes, everything he knew but never dared to dig and to which he was so vulnerable now. Kayn released his body to basically flop on the big cushions and on top of the rug.
Yone knelt in front of him and left the condoms on the rug near; right away, Kayn reached out to yank him to the cushions as well with him. Not attempting to stop it, instead just taking the fall lightly. The two fell into a kiss once more, as if they could be seized by the despair of a second apart right now. And this time, they did not hold back. If Yone was not inclined to indulge, it was not by his own choice, and burning like that made it very clear. As he and Kayn rolled on the floor, hands inside loose clothes, blood boiling, he let it happen, and it was when he pulled Kayn by his thighs that he was almost startled by the fury he saw in himself.
His hands rose from where they were and gently settled on his hips. Kayn pushed him lying on the floor and Yone found himself laying on his back, with Kayn positioning himself in between his legs.
“How is it going to be, then?” Yone murmured and smirked.
With that, Kayn pinned Yone’s wrists to the rug, his hands grabbing tight, and spoke really close to his mouth.
“Weren’t you the one who calls the shots?”
Yone forced his wrists a little, not as if he was actually trying to get away from him, but mostly to show what he meant.
“You’re way stronger than I am. It’s not like I can do anything about it.”
“And it doesn't scare you?”
Yone just grinned and lifted his legs to wrap them around Kayn’s waist.
“If anything, I'm really horny.”
In a swift movement, though, Yone took advantage of the grip he had on Kayn and rolled their bodies on the rug, releasing the grip Kayn had on him and finding himself on top of Kayn’s body instead, switching their positions.
“But even though I'm a bit rusty, ballet can make you quite strong as well, you know?”
Yone seen from below was really something else, mostly the white hair cascading from his shoulders and caressing both his own face and Kayn’s. It caused Kayn shivers for now, and he grabbed his waist as if it could keep him from going insane, but Yone would groan low into his ear and he could only dig further.
“And I'm betting you really want me to tame you, Kayn.”
With that, Kayn laughed once.
“So you think you have what it takes.”
He held the fabric of the shirt near Yone’s neck and pulled it to the sides; the sound of small pieces bouncing against the wooden floor was heard clearly. Yone lifted his body to look down and saw that he had ripped the buttons of his shirt. Underneath his body, Kayn wore a smug self-satisfied sneer that Yone could only describe as a shit-eating grin.
“You better get to it, then.” Kayn cocked his angled brows.
This fucking brat.
Getting angry at Kayn for doing what he did would only make him hornier. There was hardly anything else left that could deter him from jumping Kayn anyway. Yone knelt, took off the shirt already and threw it aside. As always, something he would deal with later.
“I will get to it, don't worry.” Yone got back to having his hands on Kayn; his jade eyes were fiery and his fingers pressed his skin precisely. He ran his hands up his belly and to his chest, while lowering himself again to once more speak into his ears. “But not before you’re begging for it.”
His left hand had slid up to his head and he closed it in a fist on Kayn’s colorful hair, tugging as he spoke. Kayn gasped, but grinned afterwards.
“Let’s see if you deserve me begging.”
“Turn over and you’ll see it.”
Still grinning, Kayn didn't waste time before disentangling himself from Yone's arms. It has been a long time from the last time he felt horny enough to want someone to fuck him instead of the other way around, and he wondered if only a bottle of champagne would have sufficed before to give him this feeling otherwise, with someone else. But facing the rug and planting his hands on the rug still felt detaching. Diving into Yone’s arms as if he wants to blend himself into the hug makes him lose enough sense of self to enjoy. And in the moments he can’t have that touch and that sight, it fucks him up. The best he could hope for was that Yone got to it quickly.
But he wouldn’t need to go quick, not when he’s got way firmer touches than Kayn could imagine and Kayn wouldn’t have time to think about something other than his own arousal. It felt like allowance even though Kayn was all stiff muscles suddenly, and he would make sure that those muscles would soften the tension under his fingers and from the touch of his tongue before he even took his pants off. Yone bit his nape while his hands traveled to Kayn’s crotch, the soft fabric of the light clothing he was wearing unable to conceal how hard Kayn was at that point. And just like Kayn had witnessed before, Yone’s fingers were dexterous enough to release the button and the zipper easily to pull the piece of fabric down.
Yone grabbed his asscheeks spreading and it was very obvious now what he would do, so Kayn gasped and involuntarily contracted his muscles again, burying his face on the pillow, and soon enough Yone pressed his lips on the end of his spine and let his kisses and his tongue slide down, starting to kiss him down there. He grabbed tighter the asscheeks in a handful, and Kayn grabbed the cushions as well and just as tight. He wanted to laugh at the fact that Yone was really fucking rimming him, but if he lets out the slightest sigh he knew he was going to moan as loud as he can and he didn’t want to hand it all so easily. Still, Kayn was puffing loud, hugging tight the cushion and he didn't know exactly when his legs widened that much to allow Yone between them, but right now he didn't really care either. That’s it, so good and wet and warm and it was Yone's tongue going inside him. His face was burning and Kayn was indeed feeling his blood very hot in his veins, making him sweat. The wet noise of Yone's tongue working on him was driving him crazy every second it was harde to even remember that he had to be controlling himself, to a point where he was forgetting why he even had to do it in the first place, and that was simply blissful.
"Holy fuck…", Kayn let out, at that point not minding being in that position now and in fact he ended up lowering his torso to lean his head over the pillow, still kneeling, what made him be a little more open to Yone while he had his hand on his cock at the same time his mouth did all it was doing. That was insanely pleasurable and Kayn was going crazy already, feeling his legs and arms trembling in crude pleasure. Yone ould go on and on and bury his face on him; he wasn’t sure if Kayn could actually come just by being rimmed, but it wouldn't stop him from doing it as if Kayn would, never-minding the results.
Kayn raised his torso again and slowly, like just trying, he rolled his hips against Yone's face. Right there he didn't have a clue about how he hadn’t come yet, but he could feel his cock wet against Yone’s fingers, and actually he wanted to come more than anything so he rolled his hips again, moving back and forth on Yone's tongue. The feeling of Kayn being so given he'd be moving his hips and slightly rubbing himself on his face like that made Yone unavoidably moan along. He wanted to answer, but that would probably be the one way to shut him up. Kayn was pure heart and fire, and probably he could take it for granted that he would be all in in the things he's to do.
"Oh, fuck, fuck me already!" Kayn ended up crying out, breathing through his gritted teeth. At that point, he was sweating, his forehead leaning on the cushions, his back arched, so open and so fucking ready already.
When Yone opened his eyes, even the twilight would hurt his eyes, so dilated his pupils must have been. He had been perfectly concentrated and maybe his jaw was a bit tired, but it was all so worth it. His wet, shiny lips twisted in a smirk.
“What was that?” While his voice purred, his fingers started sliding to where his mouth was, following around until slipping in, slowly not to be of any doubt or surprise. With how open Kayn was, he could slide two fingers easily - and he wouldn't need to go much in, since what he was looking for was just half a finger away.
“Fuck you-” Kayn retorted, but then yelped at the touch and closed his fist on the fabric of the cushions. “Get it over with, come on.”
Oh, Yone wanted to fuck him, he wanted to fuck the brains out of him as soon as he is inside him; at that point he felt so furious that the only thing keeping him from doing so was the thought that he had to bring Kayn to the edge and back, so that when he’s destroying his ass Kayn is only crying of pleasure. So he kept licking and kissing around and closer, biting those marvelously sculpted asscheeks. I could break my teeth in these, the thought went along with a weak, though wide bite that he gave, groaning and half closing his eyes. The other hand on Kayn's cock tightened a little bit the grip and he matched the slow pumping up and down to the stroking in and out of his fingers rubbing in attentive touches; he was trying to remember to which kind of pressure and speed would make Kayn squirm more.
Kayn cried louder and tried to look at Yone over his shoulder but only the sight of his face down there made him moan. His legs were shaking so hard that he feared falling and breaking that marvelous contact with Yone's fingers, like really feared it, so much that he leaned on one forearm and tried to reach out for Yone with his other hand. Every time that his finger touched him from inside in that ridiculously powerful area inside of him Kayn made an involuntary sound that was a lot alike a moan but also could be a yelp. Kayn rolled his eyes, pressing his head against the pillow and twisting the sheets in his hands. It was more than just enough – it was all, and everything, they needed.
“Stop it.” Kayn said at some point, and it came from the depths of Yone’s perception for him to realize what had just being said.
It stunned Yone a little bit, but he took his hands off of Kayn completely.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
Breathing through his teeth loudly like an enraged beast, Kayn released his body on the rug and looked back, at Yone with his lips all red and face all wet and shiny, his hair starting to get unkept, him hinting on getting as messed up as Kayn loved to see.
Kayn really thought that he would be more pushy than that when he asked him to stop. And it only made Kayn want him more, if that was possible.
“Lay the fuck down on your back because I swear I’ll kill you if you don’t fuck me already.”
At least Yone was back to grinning, and as he laid with his back on the rug and Kayn climbed on top of him, he felt like a thirsty man falling to his knees in a crystal clear lake. He fumbled with Yone’s pants and pulling them down; finally, finally both were naked again. Kayn looked at Yone’s face only for one second because it was as sinful as dangerous, and then his cock wass right in front of his face and his mouth started watering; which was news, so he would just follow his will. Kayn lowered his body to lick throughout the length of his hard-on. Letting out a huff, Yone slid his fingers into his hair as he tried hard not to hold him there, even though it was almost impossible for him not to squirm. Somehow Kayn manages to swallow him as if his throat were his rightful place and he almost wanted to laugh with ecstasy as he saw his cheeks once again sunk inwards and he could feel sucking even a little more, as if he had even more to pull towards him, as if his mouth was no longer touching his groin. Yone felt this urge to giggle, which felt outrageous, but that laughter was bubbling up in his throat as Kayn’s head moved upwards only to swallow him completely again.
But that wasn’t it; Kayn didn’t want him to come down his throat, not now at least, but his taste and thee sensation of him invading his throat like that had allowed Kayn to be properly, and perfectly, obliterated. He fumbled for the condom just because Yone had left it around, bit it open and slid it on Yone at once. The height of pleasure in their eyes emanated from them more than the unbearably delicious sensation that spread through their insides, but they found satisfaction of the most primal type, the most raw, that came from places they couldn't even imagine within themselves and showed itself only there for both of them. So, when Yone watched Kayn roll his eyes again while sitting slowly on him, enjoying every second and every inch, what had felt like a rightful place also seemed just too surreal to even place themselves, a dream Yone had never dreamed of. His heart was thundering in his chest and he felt Kayn’s pulsating around him as if they were truly one. It was all so hot in such an annihilating way that when he sat on his hips, I would have thought he had already cum or something. I could barely conclude without wanting to laugh or scream that I was _inside_ him, that he sat with the same desperation that he wanted to be as deep inside him as possible, again and again. Yone leaned his feet on the rug and jerked his hips up to meet him halfway, because right now neither of them could wait any longer.
Kayn felt his breath punched out of his lungs each time, and whimpers somehow escaped from his throat. He pressed his own lips together to make himself shut up, and holding back what could be a scream made him shudder. Each time he felt Yone's hipbones on his thighs, he forcefully exhaled through his nose, and then through his clenched teeth, until he couldn't anymore and his mouth was open again. His expression could be mistaken by pain, but he wasn't feeling any; if anything, it was overstimulation.
"Is it hurting?" Yone murmured, while pushing himself up.
Kayn just shook his head, trembling, and mouthed "More" , because now his damn voice decided not to come out. He bit his lower lip and shut his eyes.
Yone smirked and shoved again. That reaction of Kayn's was the best thing ever. He had his lungs on fire, and he felt as if there was steam coming out of his windpipes. Of course it was hard to breathe. Of course it wasn't easy to have that man so literally in his arms, but the metaphorical meaning was the one that made him breathless the most. In that moment in time, Kayn was his. He was at the sake of his wills and his mercy, letting himself go in all the ways he could. Subdued by the strength of his partner's trust and surrender, Yone there was entirely Kayn's as well.
Breathless, immersed in the surreal, all they knew was that the desire inside, overwhelming as it was, just grew and grew without any measure. Kayn’s nails dug on his chest and Yone had to grab him back too, hands on his hips wanting to shape him just for the two of them. Every time he sat back down, his expression was a little bit more ruined, and Yone, at least as pitiful and desperate as he was, needed more and more to see him crumble right there in his lap, for him, only him right now. He felt the movement of his hips in his hands, he followed them as Kayn rolled his hips sitting on him like that, and his name dragged in his pleading voice. Yone found himself moaning back, Kayn’s name growled or hissed between encouragements because now they couldn't stop, and they knew they didn't want it to stop, because the fire in Kayn’s eyes fed the fire in Yone’s and they burned wonderfully, irreversibly. There's nothing more to it now, nothing more than fucking Kayn out of his sanity and gratefully letting himself be driven crazy along with him, as he does, and as he had known how to yearn for.
So, at one point, Yone had to lift his body to sit down, hug Kayn and kiss him on the lips, and it was too late now for them not to fall. Kayn thought of turning his face and denying the kiss because even getting demolished by a dick wouldn’t feel as hazardous; yet all he did was allow himself to be attracted to him as if they were polar opposites of a magnet.Even though they still are barely more than a convulsing mess, even though he couldn’t conceive anything else, Kayn had his legs and his arms locked around Yone, bringing him as close as he could for dear life, and they couldn’t stop. They looked into each other's eyes, but they were too fast and too convulsive for them to keep on kissing no matter how much he wanted him. With that much yearning and that much arousal, they were racing very fast to an apex. Nothing else was necessary; not their games, submission, enduring pain, knowing this or that, how to act one way or another. It was enough for them to continue what they were doing: to kiss until their lips were red, to move against each other with no clothes in the way, to move together without restraints, until they surrendered. Truncated words and moans guided a coordination they did not have, only chaotic will and irreducible desire. Not even the catharsis after a first climax exhausted them enough to disconnect from each other, as if they denied themselves, as if it was still not enough.
Yone's deep, strong thrusts made Kayn tremble; and he would soon enough be taken by those spasms. He raised his arms for a moment and held the top of the marble wall behind him; the stillness of all the muscles in his arms would make him hold himself the best way so far. He knew that sensation; the pleasure skyrocketing and reaching a different orgasm than what he knew. Something more intense, and impossible to conceive, like a slow explosion, like free falling in slow motion. That powerful wave of pleasure spread to his legs and to all his spine, blowing up his mind.
"Yone, I..." Kayn hushed, out of breath, unable to speak. "I am-... you can-" He was still dazed, and he had no idea what he was supposed to do with everything he was feeling. The only thing he knew was that he was being driven again to that antitheses.
"Let it go. I'll hold you." Murmuring into his ear, Yone passed his arms under Kayn's and wrapped them around his torso, keeping him in place because only he would be able to seize him and keep track of his spasms, and his hand wraps on his hard-on to jerk him off. "Just come. Come for me."
Kayn gasped and whined and damn, he was there already. That was the point he holds his breath, the highest peak, his muscles are contracted and his mind goes blank. both the pleasures of being fucked and Yone jerking him off like that made him hush that one last sentence.
"I want you so bad, so, so bad." He puffed, a late answer to Yone. He would regret having said that if he wasn’t blown away and his body hasn't just collapsed, pleasure everywhere in his loins, spreading slowly and violently like an avalanche. His heartbeats went insane, and the way he comes seems too strong for his own good, and he contracted himself around Yone, making him groan the loudest so far. Everything else ceases to exist; that was simply devastating. His sight went black and he wouldn't know if he was staring at the night sky or not somewhere, but he was seeing stars.
And Yone allowed it to drag him altogether, a convulsion in which he lost the ability of controlling his body. Pleasure wouldn't even begin to cover it. Prostrated wasn't even close. Wrecked didn't even cut it. When his sight was blurred, He wasn't just orgasming, he was being raptured.
A soundless trainwreck. A silent thunderstrike. He was beyond description. He was so high in those sensations that mind could be as well in another dimension.
And for the next moments, barely anything but waves, ambience music and their puffing breath could be heard.Chest against chest and hip against hip; breathing heavily, their hearts in a chaotic rumble. Kayn was still hugging Yone tight as if that could have prevented him to sink into his own mind again, the place he dreads the most. He shivered enough to squirm slightly, as Yone’s lips pressed a gentle, too gentle, kiss on his neck, near his ear. Sinking his fingers into white, soft hair, Kayn stared at the wall as if everything around him was pulsating. Yone’s lips pressed slowly and carefully; on his shoulders, almost inch by inch, while their hearts were hammering inside their chests.
Against Yone’s affectionate touch, Kayn felt invincible and, suddenly, at the same time, extremely fragile. When Yone had finished covering him in kisses and their faces lined up, the smile he received was only brutal, and the gleam in the relentless green eyes.
What he again had no idea was how Yone felt just like him. He never conceived being reciprocated from someone who knows how to perform so perfectly. Yone felt like leaning his head on his shoulder and asking him to stay just a little longer, at least until he makes sense out of the turmoil inside his ever so logical mind.
But it was way too much, and Kayn pushed him slightly. At his attention coming back, their movements weren’t as instinctive and fitting anymore. They turned to that uneasy type of awkwardness that hardly fit them, still not too unbearable to make them regret.
It would take a lot for them to regret something like that, even with all the stakes.
Kayn allowed Yone to slip out of him, groaning in complaint but just doing so nevertheless. While trying to recover his breath and standing up as well to get rid of the condom, Yone was wondering if Kayn would just flee somehow now that he started to put his clothes back on again It was so weird, not knowing how he should act. Wasn't he supposed to be the one who takes control of everything? Was his dominant feature more than just an act, in which instead he just surrendered to the flow of emotions, allowing himself to feel entirely? He always knew how to act. Yet, there he didn't and still he didn’t want any of it to be over.
“Do you need anything, Kayn? How are you feeling?” Yone asked as he started picking his clothes up again, starting for the ruined shirt.
Kayn rolled his eyes, puting his pants on.
“Ugh, again, Yone, don’t mother me after we had sex, it’s kinda gross, you know?”
“I’m just asking how you are.”
“How long has it been since you last stepped on the beach?”
And there it was, Kayn changing the subject again. Yone sighed and went on with it.
“I don't remember. It’s been a while. My house has a view of the beach as well, but I stay on the balcony. The sand is way too annoying.”
“I agree, but you are annoying, too, and I’m still here for some reason. I’m going, you follow if you want.”
It was of no use to call out for Kayn when he had already gone to the door and opened it, ignoring every call of Yone, and left the door open as he passed through. He jumped off the deck to the sand and went off to the fucking sea.
Also already dressed, Yone left his things aside, took a deep frustrated sigh, folded the hem of his pants as h put them on and walked to the small stair of three steps that led to the beach.
It was a beautiful night.
The moon, an almost full one, is a glowing orb in the sky, casting a silvery sheen over the water, dying the waves silver as they gently lap at the shore, its twinkling light reflecting in the wet sand.The sea mirrors the celestial spectacle, every ripple spreading moonlit radiance.
Kayn had walked to the sea, but he hadn't gotten in. He only sat down, closer to the sea, directly looking at it. There was hardly anyone else in sight, and Yone walked to him calmly until he’s standing beside him.
Kayn looked up.
“You really came after me.”
“I’m a simp, what can I do.” Yone said playfully, in what now felt like hiding truth in plain sight.
“Come on, sit down.”
“Thank you, but no. My clothes will be full of sand.”
And it took a second for Kayn to grab him by the wrist and pull him down, making him lose balance and plop down on the sand beside Kayn with a shout. The fact that he was way dirtier with sand now than he would be if he had accepted it in the beginning made Kayn laugh, as well as of his complaints about it.
“You’re a rascal, Kayn.” Yone growled. Sand glued to his barely dried sweat and came through his clothes. Why wasn’t he hating it?
Maybe because Kayn laughed. And after a sigh, he proposed.
“One day we should come back here with a guitar and get baked as shit. I think we’d make some interesting music.”
Kayn didn’t expect him to agree. He didn’t expect to ever fulfill that plan. If anything, he just wanted to express how he had been feeling.
Yone looked at Kayn’s hand resting on the sand, the one that was in between their bodies. He wanted to put his hand on top of it. Instead, he just answered.
“I think it would be really fun. I loved making music with you.”
Kayn cast him a look, a lingering one. It reached his jade eyes, and then his lips, but after swallowing hard, he was back to focusing on the ocean.
They remained there, watching the waves, too much to say for them to even be able to talk to each other.
Chapter Text
It was another week yet again. And, with it, every problem for tomorrow becomes a problem for right now, and Yone is full of them, as all take the irresistible shape of Shieda Kayn.
So much had happened in a couple of weeks.
They had sex inside a cabana in a beach club and then watched the sea side by side in silence. The next day, Yone brought the music video script again, and he went out of the manor with a blowjob received and no other arrangement decided. They play tag in their own way, Kayn doesn’t answer his phone, Yone goes to the mansion, they fuck and each goes their own way thinking about how is it possible that every time is only better than the last one.
Now they just can’t keep their hands off of each other, because their chemistry is undeniable. All of which, though, while Yone tried to get Kayn to be interested in the music video he’s supposed to shoot next week.
Then next week is now, and he can see it what are the stakes when you insist in building a house of cards under a windstorm just because you’re oh so good in building houses of cards.
So much had happened in a couple of weeks. Too much.
A couple of months ago, he wasn’t Kayn’s manager. He had never dealt with someone’s bad cocaine trip and he had never been punched in the face. It’d been years since he last stepped on Vegas, or that he had last done MDMA, surely not all in the same night. It’s been so long since he indulged, and he enjoyed sex without worrying all the time about performance. The longest time it had taken, though, was from the last time he just jammed with songs without a care in the world, or that he had stepped on the beach and even felt that annoying scratch of sand in between his toes. A couple of months ago, he didn’t care about Kayn, and now he’s neck deep into his deepest, most troubled memories and feelings.
He had had it all figured out. He had never truly noticed he’d been searching for excitement in between every passive aggressive blackmail, in every shady tone there is in between an arrangement and a fraud, and no one had been as interesting and infuriating as Kayn. He hadn’t noticed how bored he had been and how tight he had tied his own wrists.
What he did know and deliberately decided to ignore was that whatever move he makes has consequences.
Yone’s head was pounding again. He still can’t sleep well. And he can’t lower his head, but he can much less allow himself to look into Akali’s eyes in that studio, when she’s got her arms tightly crossed, fuming, and her looks scream ‘I told you’. Senna also isn’t going to have it for much longer.
“That is the Kayn you’re betting on?” Hissing Akali finally uttered what Yone knew she had been thinking.
“Enough, Akali.”
There they are, in the music video set. There isn’t a soul in there who isn’t working well as the set is alive with color and movement, creating a mesmerizing visual spectacle. There isn’t but one person . To put it lightly, Kayn is not delivering the performance that had been envisioned. The director and Akali had spent weeks planning every shot, choreographing every move, and selecting every prop to perfectly complement the song's lyrics and mood. However, Kayn seems distracted to say the least, forgetting his cues and missing his marks, that when he isn’t deliberately turning it all into one big joke. His expressions are off, lacking the emotion and intensity that the director had hoped to capture. As the director watches the monitor, her frustration clearly mounts, as well as everyone’s and as the mistakes continue to pile up, her patience wears thin. Finally, after yet another failed take, Senna is rubbing her eyes and sighing.
“Can we take a break? I think we just need a fresh start.” Akali approached Senna, who was thinking about the same. The music stopped, the cameras paused, and the set lighting was adjusted.
“Please. I need some coffee.” Huffing, she got up fro her chair. “We’ll be back in thirty, get this figured out already.”
“Sure, we’re on it! We just need to get it into its tracks.” Hand on her shoulder, Akali guided Senna while she walked to the catering area, and as she crossed ways with Kayn, coming back from the front of the green screen, she hooked her hand on his arm. "Kayn, come here, dear, please.” Still smiling, she brough him aside and her smile vanished as she vituperated low “What the fuck are you doing?"
Yone was right after her, giving bigger steps to take Kayn’s other side.
It couldn’t be said that Kayn appeared nonchalant, because the uneasiness in his eyes was clear to Yone. Was it to everyone?
“I was just thinking we should do a dance montage. You know, very K-Popish, it’s trending!” Kayn laughed it off.
Yone lowered his tone as well to try to bring some seriousness to what he was about to say; but even before he’s started, he already knew that it would be useless.
“Kayn, we could have talked about creative inputs in the last four dinners we had to talk about this. Now that we started it out, you have to follow the script, you know that!”
“What?” A caricatured expression of Kayn faked indignation “I thought you just wanted to take me out on dates. Men are terrible, they always have second intentions!”
Thankfully, Yone saw Akali rolling his eyes, dismissing whatever Kayn said.
"What do you think about following the script, Kayn?" It seemed Akali tried to remain calm, making a subtle gesture with one hand, but she was grabbing Kayn’s arm tighter with the other.
"This script is fucking boring, Akali, like everything you’ve been envisioning ever since you started working with that cunt! Couldn’t this music video at the very least be shot in an actual jungle?" Kayn retorted.
“For you to play diva in the middle of the Amazon rainforest? You’re lucky we have this studio, if you don’t ruin everything!” Akali replied even angrier.
Yone then clenched his teeth, hurried his steps to walk in front of them and stopped walking. Staring at both, he lowered his tone.
“Let’s go to your dressing room, Kayn, shall we? We really need to talk.”
“Finally a blowjob break.” Kayn snorted, and thankfully again, Akali didn’t care.
“Yeah, take him out of my sight before I skin him alive.” She hissed and gave her back.
As Yone tried to hold Kayn’s arm in turn, Kayn pulled his arm and hurried his steps.
“You don’t have to herd me to the fucking dressing room, stop fucking touching me!”
Once they were finally in the dressing room, Yone was the last to enter, locking the door behind himself. They were finally alone, but through the mirrors that lined on the walls, Kayn’s uneasy pacing back and forth in the room was multiplied wherever you could look.
Maybe he knew why Kayn was acting like that, but it was still infuriating that he had tried so hard to make it work and Kayn just doesn’t give a shit.
“Kayn, what’s going on with you?”
Yone’s voice wasn’t angry anymore. And it was way too hard to deal with. Kayn stopped in the middle of the dressing room, hands on his waist and attentive eyes on every movement of Yone.
There was indeed something different about the Yone who had returned from that trip when he was left with Irelia.
Kayn really thought that the reason for that trip was something related to him, but he didn't want to find out. He was always afraid of what he would discover, afraid that they knew too much about his past.
Yone had returned, above all, caring. He had probably found out about something. Was he being played even more than he already knows to be? In a sense, Kayn didn't want to know. He didn't want to hate Yone – oh, no, not that he didn't hate Yone, he did hate him; it was just that... He did hate Yone, but he was enjoying what he knew how to do.
He just couldn’t allow him to get closer, even closer than being inside of him like he had been some times already in those last days.
“Maybe I just like to see you fuming. You’re sexy when you’re angry.”
Yone was standing still next to the door, trying to control his breathing.
“You’re not ruining a whole music video just to get on my nerves. You know you can do whatever else you want and you’ll get me annoyed or wanting to fuck you all the same. You’re not a child, you understand what’s at stake here.”
Spinning around himself playfully, Kayn laughed it off in a way that would make him look insane.
“Nothing is truly at stake for a famous rich white man that passes as straight. I could beat my wife and still sell records.”
Yone scoffed.
“Yeah, maybe. You’re really willing to bet on it?”
Locked and loaded with his deadliest hollow point grin, Kayn walked towards Yone.
“Have you considered that maybe I just don’t give a fuck anymore?”
Yone retaliated the same stare and walked towards him as well until they are very close.
“You do.” He said, pointing at Kayn’s chest and with his glare locked in his. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t even be here.”
Still grinning, Kayn held Yone’s wrist and guided his hand towards his throat. Yone was breathing in and out very deeply when he saw that Kayn placed his hand on his own neck. Yone watched his own fingers dig on such a tender, sensitive skin of Kayn’s throat, feeling his heart throbbing on his fingers.
“You’re angry, take it out on me. I may or may not start behaving if you do.”
Even without realizing, Yone actually grabbed his neck and squeezed tighter.
“Don’t try me.” Yone growled between teeth, very close to Kayn’s mouth. He started walking forward and Kayn allowed himself to give one step behind after the other until his heel reaches a wall and he’s got his back against it.
He was angry. He was frustrated. He hated Kayn, and the worst part was that he actually didn’t. But still, he made him so, so mad, so restless, so frustrated.
Kayn gasped with the tight grip and grinned, filled with satisfaction, back against the wall.
“Don’t mind me if I do. Will I need a safe word, Yone?", Kayn teased him, sliding one of his hands to Yone's chest.
He knew how to choke someone.
He wanted to choke Kayn the right way, just the right way to see him rolling his eyes.
"Do you want me to make you need one?" Yone growled back, his fingers choking him very precisely, not forcing his trachea, just applying pressure to the sides. His grin widened and his eyelids, half-open, shaded the image in front of him.
"Why do you ask when you already know the answer?", Kayn was provoking when he didn't know the exact consequences and if it wasn't one of the most arousing things to him, he couldn't say what it was.
A strangled breath left Yone’s lungs, coming out in hiccups, through clenched teeth.
"Pick one, then." he huskily purred, "but let's get you ready enough first." He turned Kayn to face the wall, still not releasing his throat. Instead, the grip would make him hug Kayn and have his back against his chest. His other hand found Kayn’s jaw and he forced it open, two fingers sliding to inside his welcoming mouth.
Kayn leaned his left forearm on the wall, the feeling of Yone’s fingers inside his mouth making him shiver - or was the fingers fumbling on his pants to open them, he couldn’t tell. Anything, anything to take him out of that moment he’s in. Anything not to be thinking about why he can’t get that damned music video going, and thankfully his pants are falling to his knees and Yone’s skilled fingers never fail to make him forget. He licked and sucked those fingers and soon enough these same wet fingers would be out of his mouth and down his body to press him open and massage around without forcing it, until it wouldn't be tightening around that finger anymore. Kayn was hissing yes over and over, closing his eyes to keep all his senses on the touch inside his body.
"How does this feel?"
Kayn couldn't give an immediate answer if he wanted. He first frowned, then grinned.
"Yeah, that’s… that’s good.”, Kayn finally glanced at him over his shoulder.
Teeth weakly found Kayn's shoulder and Yone jerked his own hips forward to press his hard-on against Kayn’s bottom. Meanwhile, index and middle fingers slid inside Kayn and he started moving them in and out, slowly, eyes and ears attentive to his reactions. Kayn was moaning hoarsely, whimpering very low each time that those fingers thrusted inside. His hand on the wall closed in a fist and he bit his own lip to stop himself to keep calling his name over and over.
"Fuck me already, come on!"
“I won’t. Come already. I'm not fucking stopping." Yone growled, biting his ear, the tireless arm never missing the slow and steady pace, not to hurt Kayn, and he added a third finger. "Just don't touch your cock. You're not allowed to do it."
Breath rasping between his parted lips, dark eyes flown open. Maybe Yone would wish his voice didn't tremble the way it did, but that was unavoidable, because he was drenched in arousal and he really wished to fuck Kayn right there, raw, to make him come back to the studio while there’s cum dripping from his leg. The haze covered his mind again and he was made of the perceptions he had right then, subsumed in the fever, lust and the white-hot desire burning away his rationality, scouring him bare of anything but pressure between their bodies.
"Fuck…", like an immediately response to Yone's words, Kayn placed his other arm on the wall too, keeping his hands away from his own cock like to avoid the temptation. He leaned his forehead there as well, between his forearms, and moaned freely while moving his hips back and forth a little faster than Yone.
"Oh, my- Yone!", his hands closed in fists and he arched his back, feeling that shiver climbing up his spine like a wave, and the hand that had been in his neck all that time released the grip to be able to cover Kayn’s mouth and stop him from moaning this loud when there were people outside. A fucking overwhelming, hot and strong wave of pure pleasure that made him want to laugh and hit his head on the wall at the same time.
"You look amazing all open for me like that. I could fuck you until your body just can't take another orgasm." With a grin slashing his yearning countenance, Yone panted and hissed through his parted mouth. When Kayn seemed to start coming back from his raptured state, that frozen, though feverish body, when the shuddering was starting to get weaker, Yone stepped back suddenly, releasing his body and lifting his hands almost as if he was surrendering to something.
Truth was that if Yone kept on holding Kayn, he wouldn’t be able to let go any more. He would do as he said and he would fuck him senseless right there. He looked like an enraptured beast right now, his jade eyes all dark from dilated pupils.
“What the fuck, then do it!” Kayn leaned on the wall. “What are you waiting for?”
“The break is almost done. You use the rest of the time to get ready.”
“You really think that this is enough for me? That now I’ll just go back there and be able to act in this fucking music videos as if nothing had happened?”
“You can do it, I know you do. Do these takes right and I’ll pick it up where we stopped by the end of the day.”
Kayn leaned his back on the wall and laughed acidly.
“What if I tell you that I won’t do anything right today until you finish what you started?”
“You don’t have leverage. You’re already not doing anything right, I’ve got nothing to lose. It’s your choice.”
Kayn wanted to hate that, but he couldn’t. He was laughing. That was what made Yone irresistible to him, he had no qualms about doing whatever it takes, and it’s so fucking entertaining.
Seeing Yone with a hard-on inside his haute couture pants, pacing around breathing deeply, was also very entertaining.
“Well, that’s some motivation.” Kayn nodded, then pulled his pants back. “Don’t you want a blowjob at least?”
“Get yourself ready to get back, Kayn.” He was looking at the next wall, where there was nothing to be seen. He just couldn’t look at Kayn right now, and the singer knew very well that if he walked to him and did as much as touch Yone, he would get what he wanted, which was his manager losing control and ruining every plan of his so that they can have their filthy fun together.
But he liked that game, so he went to the bathroom to get himself ready to do the best work he could for the rest of that day.
Kayn was a good actor, that was the truth. And he controlled his body like someone who had used it in more depraved ways than the manager had.
Everything Kayn had ever felt in life was very ambiguous, very confusing. And, while he smiled resigned among the filming equipment, while he maintained a regal posture and a superior air, he felt that more strongly than ever. He was proud at the same time that he felt contempt for himself. He wanted to believe in sweet lies at the same time that he wanted to feed on humiliation wherever he could find it.
He was a star at the same time that he was a black hole, and it was with this uncertain logic that he walked to his unique rockstar pedestal, his makeup retouched and his costume rearranged, singing a song that wasn't even truly his.
Chapter Text
Yone knew he had a lot more to do than spending his entire day inside a studio, but he wouldn't be able to get out of there until he sees whether his move would work or not. So there he was, watching from a table where he had his laptop and a big cup of espresso laccino, trying his best to at least reply to some emails. He spent the day drifting away in his thoughts, fixated on Kayn’s every move while he himself rested unproductive and pathetic, restless from how horny he still was and exhausted from how worried he was at the same time. So it had better work.
And it did.
It worked so well, in fact, that everyone in the studio was floored. Kayn looked like someone else entirely. He was so productive that he compensated for the whole morning he had wasted away.
That was what infuriated everyone the most. Kayn isn’t a regular artist. He is powerful, he's able to do anything. The problem is when he doesn’t want to.
He’s bored, and he probably really cares very, very little at that point.
Yone had to keep him entertained, but that can only go so far. He’d hope to slowly bring him back to actually caring and not just doing it all for the kicks. But change is slow, and stardom is always a countdown.
When they were wrapping it up for the day, Akali was back to Yone's side.
“You do have an amazing set of skills, Yone.” While speaking with a poisonous tone, she cocked her brows.
Yone knew what she implied.
“You’re welcome.” He ricocheted it back. “Such a set of skills would surely help you.”
She narrowed her eyes and then huffed.
“Good luck making him stay that way throughout the filming.” She tapped his arm. “I know it sounds like it, but I'm not teasing you. I truly wish you good luck.”
Which was very fitting, because the moment Akali was out of his sight his eyes found Kayn once more across the set, and their looks met. Kayn nodded towards the dressing room and there he went. Yone would follow right after.
Once inside, he didn’t intend to do anything there. Still, he locked the door behind himself because it was better safe than sorry.
“So?” Kayn was leaning on a dresser, arms crossed.
Yone remained standing next to the door.
“Let’s leave the studio first. They’ll want to close soon and in your house we could have all the time for ourselves for me to finish what I started today.”
Kayn pushed himself from the dresser with an amused smile, starting to pace around the room once more.
“You know what, you still owe me a blowjob.”
It caused Yone a smirk.
“I remember that.”
“You’re playing your hand, aren’t you?” He approached Yone in slow steps, starting to walk around him. “For you, it’s leverage.”
“What’s your point?” He looked over his shoulder, starting to feel uneasy.
Of course Kayn already knew he was playing it like a quest, keeping it interesting for him.
That was when Kayn approached Yone from behind and swiftly dug his hand into white hair. He grabbed a handful of the straight, soft locks inside a fist, very close to his scalp, and as he tugged it, it didn’t hurt; yet Yone moaned involuntarily, his chin up and head tilted backwards. Kayn grinned and talked into his ear, close enough for his lips to skim against his skin.
“What if I want to fuck you instead?”
Yone shivered and breathed through his teeth to answer.
Just fucking do it, the thought reverberated inside his mind before he could do anything about it.
“Just earn it and I’d be in your hands. But I need to get ready for it first.”
And while it could seem that he was talking about getting ready and clean to do it, Kayn was pretty sure it was far from that.
It wouldn't be that easy. And probably not because Yone had anything against it, he probably has fun being the bottom. It was only that he wouldn't have such liability.
Kayn still craved for the day he’d be pushing Yone’s face against the floor or watching him choke on his dick, but he also knew that everything gets really boring really fast once you achieve it. So he could wait until they are wasted away.
Kayn released Yone’s hair, stepped away and grabbed his backpack on the floor, throwing it over his shoulder.
“I need a shower and you to keep your promise. Meet me in my place in one hour at most.”
Fast forward that one hour, and Yone was punctual. Kayn was still in the middle of his shower, though, and he demanded that Yone joined him, which he would.
Kayn was ready already. No need for foreplay or preparation, he had done it himself already, Kayn just wanted to get fucked senseless.
One of Kayn’s hands slipped on the tiles and he was really feeling powerless, yet not even for one single moment he stopped moving his body along with Yone, sometimes trying to push himself further back to make him go deeper or just remain a little longer inside.
“You can fuck me as long as you want.", his voice was draggy and he chuckled with himself when he thought about his next words. "As long as you can.”
And so Yone would, over and over, plunging inside roughly, but never violently. The grasp was more concerned in bringing Kayn steadily to himself in endless, hypnotic waves than in actually slamming his body against him at will. If anything went out of control was the neediness Yone had for touching, when sometimes he seems so ecstatic, so enraptured by the blissfulness of the grinding of their bodies that he is nuzzling in colorful hair, fingers roaming desperately throughout the skin at reach. The water feels too hot and too much in his skin, breaking the kisses he left on Kayn’s nape to breathe in. There are splashing noises when his hips met Kayn's bottom and he's sliding in more and more until he's deep and each time it's buried inside he already pulls back and pounds in. His hands clung to Kayn's arms, hooking on his elbows and bringing them behind, but as he does it, immobilizing Kayn. Even if so, he was mostly obeying what Kayn said about needing a safe word - if he said so, it means he craved it hardcore.
"The safe word is 'stop it', you know?" He whispered, slowing down but thrusting harder, deeper, puffing on his ear. "Do you like this?" His hands slide to Kayn's wrists, seizing them together on his small back.
But Kayn was moaning so loud that he barely heard Yone talking to him. His face was against the wall and he was completely incapable of doing anything but being banged like that. He was trying to remember the last time someone fucked him like that, and why he was enjoying it like he was used to be ravaged; he had no idea. Thinking about the safe word Kayn glanced behind and his vision was blurred by the fog of the water, or maybe it was his body losing control again. He frowned and blinked, trying to say something.
"Do not fucking stop, Yone”, the grin on his lips was mischievous, like he was the one in control, but it lasted just until the next thrust. He finally answered, whimpering again, hiccuping more than moaning.
"F-Fuck, Kayn..." Over the edge with the sensation of plunging over and over inside Kayn while his beautifully drawn muscles worked under his hot skin, Yone rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth. Low moans of his were the echo of Kayn's louder ones and he couldn't help but to be addicted to the sensation of Kayn's heartbeats against him. He pulls back his torso and looks down at where his hands grasp Kayn's wrists and his cock dives in over and over again into his body, making his ass cheeks ripple.
Kayn wasn't recognizing himself, so out of control, a growing desperation devouring him from inside out, all his skin so damn sensitive that it seemed to melt until his bones. It was almost like being sick without any of the displeasure and he was sick for Yone, he didn't have to pretend that he wasn't. Fuck, Yone wasn't with a condom, so he was about to come inside, all inside, filling him with his cum.
"Oh, my Go-", the thought made Kayn even more aroused and any other thoughts simply vanished from his head when he cursed loudly. For moments that could be seconds or hours it was all blank, and this was simply everything he could ever dream of. Kayn could very easily have passed out, because he didn't know anything else but the pleasure. When he began to go back to himself, the first thing that he knew was his body tingling. All his body, toes to head. His hearing came back and he heard Yone’s low moans amidst the water. Then, the lightness of his body left him at once, making him feel too heavy to keep the balance. His mind still took a little longer to come back and for these following seconds it was like had drunk an entire bottle of whiskey by himself.
At that point Yone had really fallen over the edge and there was no control that could allow him to go on holding himself back while drilling Kayn that way. He had been pretty much fascinated with Kayn's reaction, as he was certainly coming and helplessly shuddering inside his arms. Fascinated was the word, as he was watching with his jaw dropped and a corner of a smile. It would be a lie if he said it didn't make Yone feel powerful, but it more than anything made him have a sensation of belonging that was really alien to him. Right now, at that moment in time, the few seconds, he was all Kayn wanted and he was able to provide him all that he needed, and they were each other's.
That sight, though, was beyond his ability to cope; Kayn looked so deliciously surrendered, so given, so fuckable and begging for more, begging him to not stop, that the idea of coming inside him simply overwhelmed him like an avalanche. Kayn seemed to be done, so done, and Yone was also reaching his highest peak and he would only stop if strictly demanded to. Fearing that chance brought him even more to the center of a whirlwind, and his moans were short and deep, until they choke in one throated cry and Yone threw his head back without being able to help it. His cock was buried deep inside Kayn once, and in the second one he froze for a moment all inside him, throbbing in pleasure, orgasm not in a wave taking his body, but as a suddenly open dam making the violent flow crash everything in its way. The water falling all over his face made him pull his head back and lean on Kayn's shoulders, a suffering breath, caught loud in each of the puffs while his load is inside Kayn's body and he's convulsing shortly.
Everything inside his skin felt burning and boiling and he almost suffocated in hot water right now, as his heart was bursting inside his chest and he leaned his forehead in Kayn's shoulder. Kayn was breathing hard, like he was pressed against two walls without space to allow him to fill his lungs and, to be honest, the feeling was quite of desperation. Still he knew that it only takes few deep breaths to make the feeling go away and so he did, slowly, languid.
"Yone...", he wasn't exactly calling for him, only saying his name. It was intense on a whole new level and he had no idea what it meant. Yone’s face was buried in the curve of his neck and they were in such an intimate embrace there that the second Kayn acknowledged it he would certainly feel unfitting. But for several eternities in the long moments dragged until their breaths start to get back a rhythm, Kayn’s mind was the nearest it could be to peace. Like when it rains in the desert, bringing that momentary relief from the burning skin and the thirst scratching his throat.
Yone doesn't notice when he starts pressing kisses all over Kayn's skin, his shoulder, clavicle, throat, pressing from pecks to soft sucking, a tottering oscillation, yet with somehow a balance between desperation and gentleness.
That was only the calm before the storm. Kayn knew better. The wind would start sweeping it all soon enough. It would come back. All he could do was try and release pent up emotions into the void, and that was hard, always the hardest. He grunted in complaint as he felt Yone slipping out of him, but tried to keep his eyes closed in hopes he wouldn't have to come back to himself.
Yet, Yone gently held him by the arm and suggested for him to turn around so they could face each other again. He was in dire need of a kiss right now, their kiss specifically, such a yearning that Yone wasn't able to explain, but which thirst he just wished to quench. And as Kayn looked at him, he didn't want to kiss him, he would refuse for how indwelling it felt, but instead he searched for Yone’s lips with his even faster than the other could decide to kiss him. Amidst the hot water and hot mist, and while they still struggled to catch their breaths, that kiss was hard to keep up, but they would do so nevertheless, as the hard part was deciding when they wanted to stop.
Eventually the kiss would end and they had nothing they could do about that. But even after breaking the kiss, Yone didn't want to step back. He reached out for soap and brought his hands to Kayn to lathe his skin in soft movements. While he got Kayn to sigh with the hug and the soft massage on his back, eventually he disentangled himself from Yone’s arms.
“You don't have to do aftercare with me. What you did was barely rough to begin with.”
“You didn't like it?” You lifted one brow.
“I didn't say that. I guess oh, yes, Yone, oh my God, Yone would be clear to understand.” Kayn moaned mockingly again, even more high-pitched than when they were actually having sex, and Yone couldn't help but laugh.
“It’s not something I have to do. I just like it.”
Kayn scoffed and gave his back again to pick his conditioning and finish his shower. His voice was sarcastic.
“You sure do. It’s not to get me to finish a music video or anything.”
“If it's working it’s surely something I was looking forward to. But it’s not like I'm contractually required to caress you.”
“Whatever you say.” Kayn shrugged and moved to the other shower that was inside the huge marbled shower box.
They shared some moments of silence before Yone sighed.
“Will I have to keep doing this for the whole music video, though?”
Kayn glanced at him over his shoulder.
“If you don't want it, I’m not forcing you, you know?”
“I’m not forced to do anything. I supposed that fuck, Kayn, you feel so good, it feels so good inside of you would be clear to understand.” Yone used the same joke and tone that Kayn had used before, and the singer laughed at that.
“Well, you’re the Juilliard actor here, not me.”
“I'm not an actor, I'm a musician and at most a dancer, and I'm not faking anything. I'm just saying that we can keep each other entertained, but I can see artistic frustration from miles away. It’s just late for this now, but we can do it differently in your next album.”
“I have to suck it up and do whatever I hate anyway, I’m well aware of that. I can't promise I will, but I’ll try. Yeah, if you keep me entertained it will be easier. But if this is the one reason you’re doing this, then don't. Forcing yourself to have sex is horrible, leave it to impress your bosses.”
Kayn had his back to him, not looking into his eyes, yet his words felt the most honest. It felt genuine and disheartened at the same time.
The truth was that he needed that to be a game, but dreamt of being able to play without losing.
Sighing, Yone turned off the shower and walked the steps to Kayn’s. When noticing him approaching once more, he turned again to face Yone.
“Can’t you see how much I just can't resist having sex with you, Kayn? Do you truly feel as if I'm not betting way too high for my own good, and that I still have enough leverage to call too many bluffs?”
Kayn wanted to believe, mostly because his heart raced in expectation as Yone stepped closer. Why would he say that? Why would he be vulnerable if not as a weapon?
Why would someone like him do anything if not to control him, like everyone else does?
He didn't have anything he could answer. He wanted to confess that having sex with him was the one thing keeping him distracted for now, even more than drugs, because those he has a hard time using without a bad trip. And it would sound like a lot less than it meant.
He also wanted to accuse Yone of every fear he had of it all just being a lie, but in the end it didn't matter. He didn't care about the meanings, he had started it all wanting to ruin everything and he would allow everything to get worse.
As he stood there silent, Yone held his shoulders to guide him one step back. The tiles weren’t as cold now that the shower went on, but it still made Kayn arch his back in a reaction as it touched the wall. When he had Kay leaning on the wall and they wouldn't completely be under running water from the shower, he knelt on the floor in front of him. Kayn swallowed hard at the sight.
“I’m not even hard yet.”
“Then I have a job to do, right?” Yone simply purred, starting to kiss Kayn’s thighs instead.
Unlike their previous times, where the fury of their touches took them over, Yone instead simply took his time.
He took his time to enjoy it. To kiss everywhere his mouth reached and to allow his mind to go blank as well. He had already learned how Kayn likes certain types of touches, like a catalog he could access for better performance. But he didn't even open it. He just took his time to enjoy what he was doing. To bathe on the desire he felt for Kayn, sink on the sensations of having his skin under his tongue and the feeling of his leg muscles under his fingers. He could feel scars here and there in Kayn’s skin and for a moment wondered where they came from.
His so-called weaponized vulnerability was about to backfire, if it hadn't yet.
Meanwhile, Kayn would be helplessly watching as Yone nuzzled his groin, licked his balls and then started kissing the length of his cock – how amazing it was that he was almost entirely hard by now – allowing it to slip inside his mouth and starting to suck him off slowly, but with intense pressure.
Kayn squirmed, digging his hand on Yone’s hair and twisting it inside his hands. He arched his back as that tongue slid to the right places to make his legs shake like jello. He licking up from the base to the tip, making Kayn growl. Then, sliding Kayn's cock inside his mouth again until feeling the tip on his throat, he slid both his hands to his bottom, grabbing his ass cheeks strongly. When Yone moved his head backwards again, his lips only gently kissing the tip, he moaned and raised his eyes to Kayn, winking mischievously once before going back to sucking him. Hard.
The shivers ran up and down Kayn's body so hard that he was both freezing from the chills and burning inside. He wanted to toss his head back, but he couldn't stop looking at it, at that delicious image of his cock over and over in Yone's mouth, his cheeks sucked in, his muscles tensing and relaxing in spasms. He was so horny already, Yone drives him so mad so easily, and, fuck, Yone can swallow him whole until his lips are against his groin, and he’s fucking doing it.
Kayn's eyes were on those beautiful jade of Yone's, that looked hotter even than the reddish lips around his own throbbing cock. It was inevitable that he would, this soon, feel delirious and boiling inside his own skin in the maddening position they were in. With Yone swallowing him until his nose was against his groin, the slightest of Kayn’s movements made him choke with an unbearably erotic sound and Kayn let go of his hair as soon as he felt himself ignite once and for all and his every breath was like a growl. But that wasn't what Yone wanted, so his hand grabbed Kayn’s and put it back on his hair. His look was very clear, he would almost reprimand. Even if he could choke, Yone wanted to suffer there, he wanted to be purged by all his trials, he wanted to be there even if his tears flowed as freely as the saliva from his mouth.
Finally following what Yone demanded, and as well his deepest desires, he grabbed Yone's hair back, close to the roots, firm enough to not pull loose strands and at the same time have full control of his head if he wanted. And not only did he want it, Yone rolled his eyes and then fixed them on his with angled eyebrows; hungry, begging, his eyes were absolutely dark and he was also already so hard he was throbbing.
Kayn allowed himself to push his hips up a little, a wavy movement of his entire body. His muscles tensed and relaxed and Yone once again that absurd sound came from Yone’s throat, his eyes continuing to beg for more as his hands clung to Kayn’s legs. And so he did, again and again, his head in place and his movements coming and going, short, but deep inside his mouth, and he was too close to his limit, the burning becoming increasingly unbearable until the flames were already gone. Irreversible. He can't receive any more signs that this is what Yone wants, and soon enough he would hold his head with both his hands and keep it just right so he can fuck his mouth like both need it.
For Yone, getting his throat fucked like that didn't use to mean much, as it was an ability. He wouldn't be jerking himself off and forgetting that he could get hoarse enough to call himself out. The feeling that was growing and boiling over me simply broke the dams, and he was so lucky at that point for every second where his mind was blank. Kayn came once more buried deep in Yone's throat while he basically cried, choking and suffocating, and yet all Yone gave him was his wet, increasingly passionate gazes, which made him realize something he already knew.
He was screwed. Yone wasn't bluffing when he said he was just the best at what he does, and he looks absolutely wondrous, ravishing as he does. He was really the most dangerous motherfucker he could ever meet, and now the snake was halfway to swallowing him, almost literally.
However, it would be cruel to Yone if he had heard those thoughts, and thankfully he didn't. The fact that he probably did everything to deserve this distrust was something else, but it was also true that right now he just really wanted to enjoy the moment. Allow himself to get throat fucked because he didn't want it to be something owed, that he could use as trading currency, and that was the part that he planned. The rest was just because he felt like it. Because he could. He wanted Kayn coming inside his mouth because that made him horny, and he wanted to jerk himself off to it because they have the weirdest, yet most enthralling kind of intimacy.
Carefully Kayn pushed Yone’s head again and slid it out, legs shaking, hands trembling.
“Holy shit, Yone.” He leaned on the wall and his legs were really shaking too much, so he ended up crouching and sitting on the floor.
“Yeah.” Yone laughed breathlessly, sitting on his heels, coughing afterwards. His voice was hoarse and he looked both overjoyed and absolutely exhausted. Kayn just wanted to kiss him, and so he did it.
Both were kneeling at the shower, lost in between trying to breathe and needing to kiss. Pressing their foreheads together, they caught their breaths.
“See? It’s not about owing you anything or having leverage.” Yone was smirking, and as playfully Kayn answered.
“It doesn't make us even. You still haven't bottomed.”
“If you carry me to your bed, you can do whatever you want with me. I'll be a pillow princess, though.
“Oh, that’s all it takes?”
Much to Yone’s surprise and protest, Kayn turned off the faucet from the shower, crouched and, in his most secured position, picked Yone on his lap, his legs around his waist and his arms around his neck. He actually got up with him like that, and Yone’s best choice was to get a good grip on him and stop struggling for them not to fall. What wouldn't stop him from cursing and telling Kayn how crazy he was, that they were wet and it was dangerous, how he was going to slip and both would end up on the floor, and how he should stop him and leave him standing back again.
Kayn didn't listen to any of that. Instead, he walked to his bedroom back with Yone on his lap all the time, and basically threw him o the bed, still all wet, half mad at him, half laughing like crazy.
“That’s it, done.” Kayn said, grinning, climbing on the bed as well.
Smirking, Yone adjusted himself on the bed, aware that it was too late to ask for a towel.
“You’re up for a third round? That’s some stamina.”
As Yone opened his legs, he allowed Kayn to fit in between them. Their faces aligned and so did their smiling mouths, and they pressed then one against the other before answering.
“It doesn't have to be now, you know?”, Kayn whispered, as he didn't want it to end, and they were back to kissing, because it was just the best thing ever to forget everything else.
That was when Yone’s phone began to ring.
He tried to ignore it, kissing Kayn harder as if it was possible to silence it. But eventually he broke the kiss, and on top of him Kayn sighed and moved away to sit on one side of the bed.
“You have to answer it, don't you?” Kayn said in the meanwhile.
“Just a moment.” Yone got up from the bed to reach for fis phone near one coffee table, where he had also left his briefcase and clothes. He saw the name and the missed calls on the screen. “Fuck.”
Before answering it, Yone walked to the other side of the room. Kayn watched as he paced around and changed his tone to something mellow, coy even.
“..no, I just got out of the shower…”, he was cooing, voice hoarser.
He said some more things that Kayn couldn't understand, and he didn't make the effort to do it. It could be kind of funny, seeing Yone sound cordial while butt naked inside his bedroom, if it didn't taste that bitter. While they talked over the phone, Kayn just picked his stash nearby and started rolling a joint.
He had one blunt ready when Yone hung up and came back to the bed, looking disheartened.
“K’Sante?”
He looked at the phone screen as if it could give him more answers.
“I… I have to go there. He wants to know how it all turned out today with the music video. I guess Akali said something and I better make sure she doesn't get in the way.”
“Sure, a business meeting at ten p.m.”
“It’s not like that, it’s not about-”
“I don't care what it is about, Yone, save your breath.” Kayn lit the joint and slid on the bed to lay down. “See you tomorrow.”
Even though there was nothing worrisome in the phone call, it just reminded Yone how far he was and had been lately from his main track. So he got dressed silently while marijuana filled the room and Kayn just as nonverbal chose some music to play. A little while later and not that less stunned he left, wondering why he did so, as nothing made sense anymore. He wondered why he left, and why he did anything up to that point, to begin with.
Chapter Text
Next day was a renewed challenge, mostly for someone with badly slept nights piling up one after the other.
The meeting with K’Sante was a success, as far as it could be.
K’Sante liked to see that Yone could keep Kayn in line, and it seems he considered it deserving of appraisal. They had a good dinner and Yone didn’t say no to K’Sante’s proposal of extending the night a bit on his rooftop jacuzzi. He was too big and wore a perfume too particular for Yone to be able to close his eyes and picture it wasn’t him. But for some moments, maybe, he could try to pretend he was somewhere different and that it was someone else inside of him. And for the rest of the night he could pretend that he wasn’t completely ruined for that already.
K’Sante was kind and gentle, he wouldn’t push him if he had said he wasn’t in the mood for it. He was a good lover for someone who didn’t deserve it, because apparently it was only chaos and trouble that truly got him off. It would be good to get it all over with.
After all, Yone was just exhausted , praying for a god he didn’t believe in that Kayn would give him just a little less headache in that day.
Someone sort of answered to his prayers. Kayn wasn’t on his prime, but he could deliver enough for them not to give Senna a stroke and have to face Akali’s rage. He and Yone haven’t interacted much, not even during lunch, when Kayn locked himself inside his dressing room.
They would wrap it up when it was already night that day, and Yone was even able to work remotely and get some things done. Kayn just said he would get the make up off himself because he needed to get the fuck out of there. And while he was leaving, Yone met him halfway to the parking lot.
“You did well today, Kayn. It will all soon be over in schedule if we go on like that.”
“Yeah, fuck this. Let’s just leave this place already.”
Yone spun the car keys on his finger by the keychain.
“How is it going to be today, then?”
“I'm in a real bad mood for anything. I don't want to take it out on you.”
With that, Yone lifted his brows.
“Now that’s new.”
Kayn looked at the side to see Yone smirking.
“Keep teasing and I'll be back to being your problem in a heartbeat.”
“I'm not teasing, I’m just impressed to see!” the manager lifted his hands in surrender. “So, do I take you home or can we have dinner?”
“Only if we go for a drive thru. I’d kill for a potato chip pizza.” Kayn declared and Yone just stared at him for a the duration of some steps and Kayn went on. “What, you don't know what a drive thru is?’
“I’m not an idiot, Kayn.”
“Just an old money brat who decided to leave papa’s castle to fuck celebrities, I know.”
It wasn't that part that he cared about.
“Did you just say potato chip pizza? Have you got the munchies?”
It made Kayn laugh as they reached Yone’s car.
“Just tell me you have eaten at least, I dunno, a Taco Bell in your life.”
Yone shook his head, and Kayn dropped his chin.
“So today that’s me taking your fast food virginity.”
“You just said something even more disgusting than potato chip pizza.”
Kayn wasn’t paying attention, too entertained with his own idea, picking his phone to look for the closest fast food restaurant he could find.
“We can grab some Wendy’s if we go from here to the Pacific Coast Highway, I’ll show you the way.”
“No way I’ll drive my car to a Wendy's, Kayn.” Yone said as he was unlocking his vehicle.
“You better. Or I’ll start kicking and screaming like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Don't you want me to behave?”
Sighing, he rolled his eyes. Kayn might as well really do it.
“Get in the fucking car.”
Kayn had his best shit-eating grin, while Yone rolled his eyes. His manager’s utter annoyance amused the singer throughout the trip. Once there, Yone tried to make sure that Kayn wouldn’t show his identity on the way, which was wholeheartedly ignored. The moment they made their orders (or that Yone repeated the order that Kayn had told him to make, because he had no idea what to order) Kayn opened the convertible ceiling to talk to the fast-food employees. Yone sighed as they were shrieking and taking pictures and tried not to show anger when Kayn leaned in and almost knelt on his lap to get closer to them for a selfie.
He was having fun. He liked that, so why is it that it looks like he doesn’t at the same time? Could it be that he was only doing that to mess with him, to make him annoyed to have to deal with fast food employees?
Before they could attract too much attention, Yone hurried them up with the order. There were people from the line stopping already to take pictures, and if they got locked in a drive thru it would be the most ridiculous type of situation.
As they were leaving, Kayn slapped Yone’s hand for him not to press the panel for the convertible roof to roll back and put some music back on.
“Continue on the highway.” He leaned back. “I know a place.”
“You know I’m not your driver, right?”
“You shouldn’t be saying that just to complain if you know you will obey, you know? It makes you lose authority.”
Yone rolled his eyes.
“You’re impossible, Kayn. Weren’t you who hated the exposure?”
“You have never worked in a fast food chain, these people have the worst routines. I’ve just made their fucking day. It’s my good deed of the week.”
“We should arrange you charity programs, then. It would be good for your image."
“Fuck off. So that I may end up screaming at an African child? You know I’m unpredictable.”
Sighing, Yone tried it out. Maybe it could be an opportunity.
“You didn’t use to be. You used to be really reliable.”
“Because I needed you all. I could control this side of me and call it some other name to keep the demon caged. Now you need me, I can let my borderline loose and keep refusing psychiatric evaluation. They had medicated me before for it all. I might be bipolar as well, but PTSD is surely the closest in the menu. Who knows, nobody gives a shit as long as I’m functioning. And neither do I. Turn here.” Kayn pointed at the highway as if he hadn’t said anything remarkable at all.
“We can change that, I’ve already told you.” Yone said as he turned on the highway as directed.
“Oh, I do hope you can fix me, daddy.” Kayn’s scornful tone came back and he pouted, making a caricatured pleading face. “I’m so broken and so dumb and my tits are so big, can you help me?”
Yone chose to ignore his mockery.
“If we work well together. Zed played the game with them, he might have helped you before but he allowed this to happen, he allowed them to take over completely. I am a musician, something Zed wasn’t. I know how to bring out the best of you as an artist.”
“Don’t waste your time, Yone.”
“It’s not a waste of time. You’re such a powerful artist, you can make so much, there’s so much you can still build.”
Leaning his head back, Kayn huffed loudly, with a really loud, exasperated groan.
“Argh, what the fuck, what can I do for you to shut up? I’m not talking about that. Everyone had told me so much, that I’m so fantastic and wonderful and beautiful and amazing and they all left with their pockets full of money. Don’t try to get me to accept any feeling for you or from you, I’m so fucking tired already. I done with you all, none of you can help me. We’re working well for now, just don’t waste my fucking time. We’re having fun, let’s keep it this way until one of us get bored first. I’m already doing what I have to do, so shut the fuck up.”
Yone swallowed hard.
It was the truest he could get. And he wouldn’t be able to make Kayn believe that. So he had to speak his language.
“I also want my money, Kayn. But it would be better if I got it from you not destroying yourself in the process. If you do, you’ll sell way even more than you do well and alive. The more you crash and burn, the more attention you bring to yourself, the more money I make. You can snort your ass off and overdose, you’ll sell so much that I can retire already. But we have an alternative. You can go back to putting your heart into what you do instead of feeling you’re playing puppet and stealing from people you had loved and who had loved you. When we had dinner before Vegas, you told me your most famous songs were from someone else. You can make it all worth it and you can process it through art. I can help you, I’m not lying to you about this, I need you to make money and you need me not to get back in track, not having to do not even one single music video that makes you feel this bad like this, ever again. We can be... more than this."
Kayn wasn’t looking at Yone, but still, at that covered his eyes with his fingers and pressed his eyelids, breathing out a trembling, hesitant breath. His hand was trembling and Yone felt he was about to snap, so he stepped heavier on the breaks to slow down the car in case anything happens.
When his voice came out, it was forcefully contained, almost a strangled sigh.
“Can we not talk about this today?”
Yone nodded.
“Of course.”
“Stop by the lookout point over there. And don’t fucking speak.”
Obeying, Yone did so. They stopped the car by the empty lookout, where the Pacific Ocean unraveled before them. Kayn hopped off of the car with the paper bag with their sandwiches. Yone picked the two cups with soda and got out to follow him as well.
Kayn leaned on the hood of the car, a gaze fixated where the sea meets the sky, underneath a big wide moon. Everything shone in silver as the crests of the waves catching the moonlight. The salty air caressed their faces, the breeze ever so gentle.
They silently just exchanged the food, Yone handing Kayn a cup of soda and Kayn handing Yone his burger and fries. They ate leaning on the hood of the car, lost in thoughts enough for everything to ease out and wash off like a wave that again becomes part of the huge ocean after crashing so violently against the rocks.
Yone was sinking in everything he felt and didn’t want to name, so he glided through the surface in hopes of never getting caught by a bigger tide. Kayn tried to sail through the violent currents that hid underneath the surface, wondering when he would be caught in the swirl.
Eventually he sighed, finishing his snack, and he dared to look at Yone, who just stared despondently at his half-eaten burger.
“What?” He had to ask.
“This tastes awful.”
Kayn started laughing at how disheartened Yone looked. His arrogant manager, defeated by a burger, trying to take another bite as if it’s made of manure. It was probably not that funny, but for him, it was the funniest thing in the world.
“Ass also tastes awful and you still eat it like it’s your job.” He retorted right away as he caught his breath and now it was Yone’s time to laugh, as he almost choked on his sandwich.
They didn’t get to do anything else in that night; in fact, they haven’t even kissed.
Instead, they were both leaning on the hood of the car, before the ocean. Kayn leaned his head on Yone’s shoulder and they remained there for almost an hour, not sharing a word, not even in the drive back to Kayn’s house. At most, they mumbled 'night' to one another, still not ready to look into each other's eyes.
Kayn wouldn’t sleep, not even as high on weed as he could be. Yone would only do so after the highest number of Clonazepam drops he could take.
Chapter Text
Needless to say the next day wasn’t as kind to them as the other two. As well unfortunately, Yone had to show up to his office and had meetings to attend, all while feeling himself zumbified for the amount of medicine it took for him to sleep. He had barely had time to properly put on his make up, but he could consider that he did enough for at the very least not look as exhausted as he felt. He managed to make at least five calls while stuck in traffic, and as soon as he arrived at his office and passed through the door, Irelia got up from her chair. He narrowed his eyes a little bit as she seemed a little bit uneasy for some reason.
"Morning, Irelia. Everything alright?" He stopped near her desk.
“Good morning! Sure, nothing much out of the ordinary, just a couple of things to show you. I’m surprised, though, I thought you weren’t even going to show up today again. How is the filming going?”
“As well as possible, I’d say. I hope to get back there after lunch, for now I’ll have to leave to Akali.” And hope she and Kayn don’t kill each other in the process , he thought within a sigh.
“Oh, I’ve sent you the schedule, but I was waiting for when you’d come to the office to give you this.” She raised an envelope with a yellow band and some typed inscriptions. “It’s for Kayn.”
Yone reached out to pick the envelope from her. He turned it over and looked at the sender. SIDE Storage and Posting Services.
“Have you contacted the housekeeper? Is this from any service he had hired?”
“Actually it came from the housekeeping itself. They sent us because-”
“Because we monitor different mail and certain fan mail, yes.” Yone rubbed his eyes. That was obvious, he just wasn't functioning his best.
“Yeah. And they didn't know what it’s about. It’s the third notice in the last couple of months. I saw the name of the company that sent it and did some research. They're a service similar to the postal service, but with a different price. They also do storage of items for a certain period, with a subtle difference compared to American banks."
"Difference..."
"You know, you don't have to declare what you're storing."
He chuckled weakly and it amused him for a moment that it was legalized and the obvious amount of things they can find a way for. He thanked Irelia and walked to his office, closing himself in, staring at that envelope.
When Yone opened the envelope, he hadn't even realized he was violating someone's mail. It hadn't been deliberate, it hadn't been malicious; it was just a habit, something everyone always did with Kayn. He only thought about it after he finished reading, but dismissed the thought right away. He skimmed over it first.
Dear Mr. Shieda Kayn
(...) on the account of a joint contract in the name of Mr. SHIEDA KAYN, bearer of identity number (...). This contract expires on the 31st of December of the present year, at 12:00 PM. Considering the current situation and death certificate of one of Miss. (...), hereby indicated by the social name EZREAL, the second contractor, we have reviewed the terms (...). If it is of your interest, we need the contract to be renewed by payment for the desired period until this date (...) or for the contents of box number 03162010 to be removed.
Yone sat by his desk and reread the document carefully. It was for a box located in Seattle, Washington. He read it a second time and tried to imagine what could be stored in a box that had been their accomplice.
He needed to tell Kayn about it, but how would he do it? He was afraid that Kayn would simply lose it at the very mention of Ezreal. Especially at a time like this, when the biggest problem they are facing is exactly that Ezreal’s memories are too close for him to be over and over acting on a video for a song they created.
Yone sighed, the letters in the paper losing focus under his eyes. How would he tell Kayn about it if, technically, he wasn't even supposed to know who Ezreal was? Maybe he would say that he only saw the full name in this letter he had received, and-
He sighed, rubbing his eyes.
One problem at a time. He’ll deal with this laterally, and present it to Kayn when it’s safe, or the safest possible.
Definitely not while they are still shooting.
Leaving it inside his drawer and locking it, Yone shook it all off so that he could deal with his own affairs as quickly as possible to go back to the studio.
As he did so, it was all done near one p.m. He hadn't had lunch, nothing that a pill with a pharmaceutically approved quantity of amphetamines couldn’t deal with. He just went straight to the set as he arrived, crossing the studio with barely more than nods. He could find Akali talking to the woman Yone knew to be the unit production manager. He approached, but remained standing somehow distant until Akali finished her conversation.
Kayn had a costume designer around him changing details in his clothing, and his eyes were completely lost somewhere in the studio. He was barely there at all, and he hadn’t noticed Yone’s presence – or seemingly anyone’s, for that matter – until they were back to filming.
Their eyes crossed, and Kayn looked lost for a second, then nodded. Yone’s smirk at him and Kayn’s corner simp back could fit together to build one single weak smile. Then he was back to filming.
And Yone’s attention was diverted to Akali by his side, who had finished her conversation and turned to him.
“So?” The manager cut to the chase, “how is it going?”
She glanced at Kayn for a moment before staring at Yone.
“He looks hungover and mildly doped. It’s at least ten takes each for it to work. We’re doing it, but losing pace.”
Casting a look at the resuming filming, it was hard not to see how disheartened Kayn was from being there, even though he was willing to perform.
“If we take a break, I'll try to talk to him.”
But Akali shook her head.
“How long do you want to play brat tamer, Yone? What do you think you’ll get if you have Kayn only working if it’s with you? You look like a special needs teaching assistant.”
Yone lifted his brows. That’s a good sign. So he was actually convincing Akali that he actually had this much control over Kayn, and that he wasn’t completely in the dark about what to do and it was all trial and error full of lucky guesses.
At least this.
“Very ableist of you to make this comparison.”
She scoffed.
“Nice to be judged from Evelynn’s devil offspring.”
Yone chuckled. It mostly amused him, if the context didn't worry him. So he wanted to add some more things.
They remained in silence watching while Kayn struggled through yet another take, Akali’s high ankle sneakers tapping on the floor anxiously.
Yone, of course, had connected the dots a long time ago. Kayn had said that this song was written by Ezreal. Even if it wasn't true – and everything indicated that it really was – doing those scenes over and over again was much more than just boring; it was torturous. The manager didn't know exactly what in all that could be so painful for Kayn; whether it was the memory of Ezreal and how he’s now dead, whether it was the fact that they were perverting the song they had made. Maybe none of these, or all of these reasons together.
Kayn still cared. In the midst of all that irritation, Yone felt it, and maybe he should hold onto that tightly. There was still a purpose, Yone didn't know what – maybe not even Kayn knew – but it existed, and it prevented Kayn from continuing to act as he always did, as he had done so many times.
Ever since he returned from Zed, Yone knew that what he feared most was indifference. The purposeless indifference that could make Kayn give up once and for all.
“That’s the thing, though. It hasn't always been this way, to work with Kayn,” Yone sighed, looking away and putting his hands inside his pockets. He pretended to be mindlessly mentioning it, when he actually wanted her to speak. “has it?”
She sighed, arms still crossed.
“It really hasn't. He’s not Shieda fucking Kayn over nothing. He’s brilliant and unfortunately he knows it way too well. He’s lost it.”
“Maybe he hasn't. I'm expecting the next album to be good. He has it in him.”
Meanwhile, Senna cut the scene and shouted to everyone for a break of fifteen minutes. Her voice sounded impatient.
“I can see.” Akali glanced at Yone, who just huffed.
“Maybe next time, as a producer, you don't try to work without the main artist. If you had worked better with him none of that would be happening. Both you and Zed should've known better. It’s mostly this specific music video that is bringing him memories.”
Akali gritted her teeth and stepped forward.
“Then tell him to get over himself. If he stops stalling we get this over with already and he can move on. If we wanted someone to be all defensive about it we would have kept Zed. Don't make us think it was a bad idea.”
Yet all Yone had to offer was a cocky grin.
“Try to bring him back. I dare you. You’ll see hat happens”, he winked and gave his back to her, his whole expression simply dismounting and back to a resting face when she wasn't seeing him any longer.
No, he definitely wasn't that confident. Of anything, to be truly honest. But he could bluff.
He was crossing to the set to find Kayn when he met Senna halfway. Apparently, she was looking for him, and they exchanged cordial words, some amenities and the overall result for the work of the day so far, until Senna sighed and placed her hands on her waist.
“So, I have to ask you something. He said he doesn’t want you in the set.”
“What?” He was actually surprised.
“Yeah, Kayn… he said you distract him. So, for us to get this over with, can you wait somewhere else?”
“Sure.” Yone nodded. “I have a few things to work with, I’ll be in his dressing room to use the desk.”
She nodded and sighed.
“Sorry for asking that.”
“No problem at all. Sorry for the inconvenience, as well.”
Trying not to make much sense out of it, Yone just gave his back and left. If anything, it made sense that they distracted each other.
Yone set everything up for himself to work, grabbed a coffee and something to eat with the catering crew, and left for the dressing room. He wouldn’t have the heart to leave without knowing what’s going on, so he would just set the desk in Kayn’s dressing room to work remotely from there.
Not more than half an hour had passed before the door opened again. Kayn stood there, looking shocked that he would find him there.
“What are you still doing here?” he entered and locked the door behind himself.
“Waiting for you to finish filming. I didn’t want to distract you, but wouldn’t just leave you like that.” Yone got up from the chair.
Gritting his teeth and snorting, Kayn walked straight across the room to pick his backpack, not answering to any of Yone’s questions whether everything was okay. Instead, he fumbled in his things until he found a small silver straw and unscrew it. Yone sighed as he realized what it was – a sleek recipient for cocaine – only too late.
“What you’re doing, Kayn, KAYN, WAIT-” But Kayn pushed it inside his nose and sniffed deeply. Then he huffed and shook his head, while Yone sighed and buried his hands in his face, shouting “FUCK” in frustration, gritting his teeth.
“Why would you do that? Fuck, Kayn! We’re in the middle of filming!”
“Today was horrible, fuck you, I can’t stand a second of this any longer.”
“Why so? Why can’t you just make a fucking effort? Get this anger to the scene, you know you can do this! You’re choosing not to!”
“YOU all make the effort, I am your motherfucking superstar, ain’t I?”
His manager almost, almost answered. There was of no use to fight with him like that. In minutes everything will hit and he was already out of control now, so Yone had better just handle this quickly.
“Yeah, okay, okay, we deal with this later”, the manager gestured for him to wait and walked to the door. “You wait here, I’ll tell Senna you’re not feeling well and we come back tomorrow. Just hold on and I’ll take you somewhere else you can just enjoy.”
But Yone wouldn’t be able to leave, because before he reached the door, Kayn grabbed his arm and turned his manager towards his body. Ignoring the complaints, he pushed him to the nearest sofa with actual strength. As soon as he sat down, Kayn bent over and pressed his lips onto Yone’s.
He corresponded for a couple of seconds, muscle memory he hadn’t noticed to have built in. But after that, Yone pushed Kayn’s shoulders and turned his face.
“I can taste coke in your fucking spit. I don’t want to do anything now. Get off me.”
But grinning Kayn knelt in front of him instead.
“I want to get out of my head by giving you head.” He was already unbuttoning Yone’s pants, “I'm coked up and you better let me do it before I bite your cock off.”
Still, Yone was trying to hold his hands and button his pants back.
"Stop, Kayn!"
"Shut up already."
“I said I don’t consent to it now, Kayn, get off me!”.
“Nobody ask me for consent for anything, what the fuck are you on about?”
“Oh, so you’ll rape me, that’s it?” Yone said right away, to try to get Kayn to his senses to what he was doing. It wasn’t a tease, it wasn’t a joke, Yone didn’t want that in that moment and he had to be really clear.
And it worked. At that mention, Kayn’s eyes focused on his manager’s eyes and he stopped everything he was doing.
“I’m not a fucking rapist”, he got up and stepped back “I’m not a fucking rapist, ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?”
Oh, fuck.
“I know you’re not! That’s why you just left me alone!” Yone got up and softened his voice, although he was being really firm. “I’ll want to have sex with you any time else, but now we can’t! Let’s find somewhere else to spend this, I’m sure we can find a rave we can be wasted together. Alright? Let’s do it?”
Instead, though, Kayn started laughing, starting a rant that verged psychotic.
“I’m not a fucking kid, I’m not going to be appeased with a ride to the amusement park, mommy! They already brought the sixteen year old to the studio and made him suck some dick, there’s hardly much else to amuse me. I hate every single rapist and I’m surrounded by fucking rapists.”
It got very personal, very fast. Out of seemingly nowhere.
If Yone could bet, he would guess that mentioning rape was a real trigger from trauma.
“Did anyone do anything to you, Kayn?”
But Kayn laughed harder. He wasn’t listening much, too lost in his own world, in whatever was going on inside his mind that was making his eyes dart from one side to the other.
“Not here.” He laughed even more. “But you can bet that if you blow up this entire studio, you’ll have killed at least one pedophile. This entire industry reeks of menarche. But you know what? You all still depend on me to milk your money, and you have to put up with my shit even if I ruin everything I fucking touch. Wanna see?”
Yone barely understood what he meant before having to run to the door to try to keep Kayn from unlocking it and leaving the room.
“Hey, guys, who’s the pedophile around here? All of you?”
Oh no. Shit, shit. Shit, Kayn.
“Kayn, shut up!” Yone looked around and he was sure everyone understood what was happening. Too many witnesses, too many eyes. "Let's go, come with me. We’re leaving.”
“I was just wondering!” Kayn said, too
“Kayn, please, please. I’m begging you.” Yone stood in front of him
Senna approached with furious eyes and her infallible clipboard in hand.
“What the fuck is going on here? Kayn, stop being an unprofessional brat!" The director roared even louder. "Your antics are ridiculous! This isn't your sweet sixteen party, we have a contract, shut up and get back to the set now!"
"Stop!" Yone intervened, getting in the middle of them both. "He's not well, I'll take him home."
But her gaze was fixed on Kayn's frantic expression. The singer gave a totally hysterical smile to nothing. Yone tried to bring him behind his body, out of sight of the others, who were trying to see through the gaps in the filming equipment and support trusses.
"Not well?" Then the director's voice went out of tune. She turned incredulously to Yone. "Is he... Yone, is Kayn fucking coked up and freaking out on my set right now?"
It wasn't Yone who answered. The answer was a metallic sound of something breaking, of glass shattering, followed by a piercing scream from an assistant nearby.
The answer was Kayn pushing one of the cameras out of his way, which fell to the ground in thousands of pieces and shattered into thousands of dollars.
Chapter Text
K'Sante delivered a blow with his open hand on the wooden tabletop, and the thud made the things resting on it tremble. Yone closed his eyes, and K’Sante's speech pounded inside his skull.
"...and who is going to pay for this, Yone? ARE YOU?" He roared, filling the room with his voice.
"No, I won't." Yone stood in front of him, hands resting on the back of a chair. His voice slid in to avoid becoming violent. K'Sante had been like this for a good fifteen minutes.
"I wish that was the problem. We barely have footage and Senna wants to shoot me instead of the video. You know what? When things get out of control, she becomes the devil incarnate!"
"Oh, I know, K'Sante. Believe me, she's already come to hassle me before." Yone took a step forward and opened his briefcase, searching for headache pills.
"It's not even a tenth of what I have to listen to! She and her husband want to cancel the shooting, and they'll have reasons to do it without breaking the contract! Do you have any idea how much money I could lose because of this, Yone?"
"It's not my damn problem." He gritted his teeth, so fucking tired.
It was all it needed to infuriate K’Sante even more.
"Oh, it's not, Yone? IS IT NOT?" K'Sante looked like he was going to break something. "And how's Kayn's image going to look when people find out the music video shoot might be canceled because of a tantrum from your pop star?"
"My pop star? YOUR pop star! I know it's easy to get it mixed, K'Sante, but I'm not responsible for Kayn, you are! I didn't tell you to make such a risky investment in someone so problematic!" Yone finally raised his voice and stared directly at him.
"Because I thought you managers could handle your job!"
"My job? I can handle my fucking job!" Yone pointed outside with a sweeping gesture, too exhausted not to yell back. "You have no idea the hell I went through to keep anything from escalate in that studio! I already took money out of my own pocket to fix this, K'Sante, so don’t come at me as if I don’t care! Managing Kayn, that's what Zed did while he was here! Cleaning up Kayn's messes, that's my damn job now, I'm a public relations and I’m fucking amazing at it, but I’m not a babysitter or anyone’s father! And you? Are you going to keep yelling until even the coffee lady in this building knows the truth?"
"You're a son of a bitch, you know that? D’ya think the crew didn't notice you and Kayn were fucking backstage? Couldn't you control yourselves to do it somewhere more private?"
"Oh, give me a break." Yone rolled his eyes and almost turned away. "Kayn and I were alone in the dressing rooms, K'Sante, lots of times. What else do you think they'd say? I can't control every little gossip that comes out of that!"
"Sure, Yone." The other violently opened one of his drawers, almost removing it from the desk. He took out some papers and threw them on the wooden tabletop. "You two really had a relationship restricted to the office."
Yone wouldn't show the anxiety he felt when he saw those were photos. Printed photos? Why would he have it all printed like a sociopath compiling a dossier? It doesn't even look like something K’Sante would do.
"I have internet access, K'Sante. I don’t need to see printed photos of Kayn and I." Yone glanced over the images K’Sante had spread on the table and shrugged. They were just some photos of the two of them riding around the city, going out of the restaurant, and the selfies from the workers wt the fast food chain briefly interacted with some fans. He couldn’t see anything truly incriminating, at most it showed that they had some intimacy. “I take Kayn out of the house sometimes, what about it? We know he can’t be trusted alone and we have to create a bond for him to trust me.”
"Oh, sure, I also do like to be touching like that all my employees I’m not having sex with."
Yone raised his gaze to K'Sante and leaned toward him, in an attacking stance.
"Touching? This doesn't seem like a professional reasoning from you, K'Sante. What is it, are you jealous of me?" A disdainful smile formed on his face.
"Right, Yone, to the hell with it. I couldn't expect anything different from someone who was hired because they can suck dick."
"Don't lower the level, K'Sante, I'm warning you." Yone lowered his head and stared at his hands, the smile on his face twisting.
"Alright, I'll admit you did fuck me well from time to time."
"You know, K'Sante, if you thought a little more with your upper head instead, you'd realize you're up to your neck in a much bigger situation."
"What are you talking about?"
Yone flashed another slashing smile. He took two steps back, grabbed his briefcase from the chair, and adjusted his suit jacket.
"Go call Senna and you two get in a ring. I don't have to listen to your whining anymore, I'm tired, and I have more important things to do."
Yone turned his back and hurried his pace. He made a move to touch the door handle.
"Wait." K'Sante raised his voice again, and the younger man stopped.
"What is it?"
K’Sante sighed, seeming to have thought a little, and maybe changed his mind before saying what he truly meant.
"Will we have to take Kayn to rehab?"
Yone sighed deeply. He looked down and then back at K'Sante.
"I’ll see. If we do, he wouldn't be the first star to need it. We do what we have to do." He left the room, almost slamming the door. He had bigger problems to worry about. Kayn had bigger problems to worry about, much more than these details that, sooner or later, would end up leaking.
He had to deal with Kayn ranting and swearing at him and the entire world for all the drive to take him home. As he had to handle a lot of other things, he called in their doctors to take care of him if anything’s needed. Yone had barely slept, again, up to the A.M. trying to deal with it all.
The traffic was especially hellish that next day, but Yone hardly worried about it because everything else was already enough of a hell. He made five calls while stuck in traffic, and as soon as he arrived at his office, just after he walked through the door, Irelia approached him with a tablet in hand. Another entire day of solving problems and trying to get everything back on its tracks the best way possible.
So, it was again another evening, an orange-hued sunset unraveling in the tepid Californian sky. Yone walked through Kayn's house without his usual posture. He had gotten rid of his tie, and his suit jacket was left in the car. Beyond the living room furniture and the aquarium, he glimpsed the image of someone sitting outside by the pool.
He crossed the living room and opened the glass door. Kayn was sitting at the edge of the pool, legs in the water. He was wearing pants, but he hadn’t rolled them up; the hem was wet around his shins. He was more focused on the artificial lights reflecting in the running waterfall than on the flickering twilight lights dancing in the sparse clouds above him.
“Going for a swim?” Yone’s voice came from behind him. Kayn was startled for a moment.
“Not sure I’m in the mood,” Kayn murmured without enthusiasm. “I already had a hard time convincing the housekeeping and the security guards I was okay here alone. They’re checking.”
The manager approached.
“How are you?”
“Like I’ve been chewed up by a Komodo dragon.”
Yone didn’t smile, finding the comment bitter, but the way it was phrased amused him. He sat on the ground beside Kayn, crossing his legs. He left his briefcase aside and took out his laptop from it.
“We need to post something from your account to explain to your fans what happened at the studio.”
“What did you make up?”
“I spread the word that you fainted due to low blood pressure and fell onto the equipment.”
“Ah, so that’s why you called that doctor here?”
“She’s a contact of mine. She’ll give you a medical note, and I also wanted her to check on you.”
“Will anyone buy this story?” Kayn looked ahead again.
“Some stuff will slip through, I know it will. It doesn’t really matter; this part is not that big of a deal. There’s nothing more to worry about. As far as it looks, we won’t have to deal with any more of that.”
Silent, Kayn gave a resigned smile while Yone typed out something alike Kayn’s way of posting in social media.
“How about this?” He turned the screen to the singer.
“Post whatever you want.” Kayn barely read it. He stood up, and as he stepped beside Yone, a puddle of water formed at the pool’s edge. “You’re not gonna scold me for it?”
A sigh from his manager.
“I'm too tired for this. Also, I know why you did it, so it’s beating up a dead horse. You are just performing for everyone and you can't see a reason for any of this anymore. It kills us to sell our soul for something and be forced to do something we don't want.”
“You'd know.”
Yone chuckled and the bitter smile remained on his lips.
“I’ve already told you I’m willing to fight for you, Kayn. For you to get back on track and feel passionate about what you do. This is not the first time I’m telling you this, actually it’s getting tired already. I won't have every chance in the world to do it, you have to make your choice.”
Kayn remained in silence for some moments.
“I’ll be back, stay here.”
Yone nodded, his attention back to the laptop. He updated the page, and two seconds later, he saw Kayn’s mentions explode with replies, reposts, well-wishes, and desperate pleas from followers.
While Kayn was away, Yone thought about the amount of money he had lost in two days. Fixing everything, bribing one person, hiring another, and trying to pull a derailed train back on track with sheer strength. It wasn’t easy, but... he had managed it.
They say he only got things through sex. It wasn’t true, not completely. He wasn’t incompetent; but they’ll keep trying to convince him of that.
The truth was that much of what he had said in K'Sante’s office was a lie. That was his problem, now more than ever. Contracts upon contracts... soon that would blow up in his face too.
Kayn couldn’t afford to be a liability anymore.
Putting the laptop away inside the briefcase, he looked at the last rays of sun in the purpling sky and kept his head high because that was all he could do. He couldn’t despise his pride. Because if he didn’t take pride in what he accomplished every day, no one would do it for him. If he didn’t assert himself as he did every day – unless they were making money off it – no one would reach out and say ‘good job, congratulations.’ He isn’t expecting it. Because everyone knew how to point out the wrong methods he used, but they were never tired of benefiting from what Yone achieved with them. He was in the industry, and he was a perfect cog, whether the moralists liked it or not.
The day had ended with a buzz in his ears. He was tired, but what was the point? He wouldn’t be able to sleep. He was where he was, at the edge of Kayn’s pool, because it didn’t matter.
After a little while, Kayn came back with a small metal snorting case in his hand.
“Here.” He crouched and offered the metal case to Yone.
“I don’t want to do coke, Kayn.” he answered, exasperated.
“Me neither.” He sat back on the edge of the pool. “That’s my stash. I want you to take it with you and not give me any of it anymore.”
Yone could barely believe what he was hearing, and he knew he must have looked dramatic even as he accepted the case, because Kayn chuckled.
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. There are some pills and LSD there too. I’m just keeping the weed and I'll probably be baked every single hour of my day.” Kayn’s green eyes were focused on the slightly rippling water before them.
“Do you think you can handle withdrawal? We can find you a place where you will have better assistance.”
“I’m not addicted.”
“Come on, Kayn.”
“I’m really not, physically at least. I can stay days without it, I have a really strong resistance. Psychologically, though… well, I’m off my rails already so what’s the point? If you try to put me in rehab I’ll bite every single nurse nearby.”
Yone sighed. He should probably just take that already.
“Can I trust you?”
Kayn sighed, eyes lifting to a random point in the twilight sky.
“Probably not. But you’ll have to. I’m… I’m tired of ruining everything, but that’s all I end up doing. You know, I was willing to force you, I don't know if I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't snapped out of it. I hate drugs, I know what they do to someone’s life. I’m already someone I hate and I'm getting worse. It’s just too insufferable, staying sober.”
After the wholehearted confession he heard, Yone took a deep breath as he put the case away in his briefcase. Afterwards, he placed his hand on top of Kayn’s, which leaned on the ground.
Kayn glanced at their hands together, but didn't move his own away.
“You can do this. I deal with what’s left of this, and you look forward to putting everything you’ve got into your next album. I'm not afraid of you and I still want to have sex with you, so forget about that part because you weren't really about to make me do anything I didn't want. I want you to see how amazing you truly are and we’re going to show them all.”
Kayn looked at his manager and he wanted to ask him a bit more, mostly because he feared he knew why Yone has been so apparently vulnerable with him now. He was afraid of something, but he knew he couldn't deal well with the answers.
So, instead of asking anything else, Kayn got up and pointed back with his thumb at the poolside patio.
“Let’s at least have a drink together? I can make some great drinks.”
“Kayn…”
“Come on! A toast for my decision!”
“You know I-”
“Can’t, obviously not. Don’t put too much thought into it. You should relax a bit.”
“I don’t want to face tomorrow with a hangover. Besides, when we are drunk we usually also want to do drugs, so you can relapse before even beginning to go cold turkey.”
“Leave your things with my security. Also, you don’t have to drink that much.” Kayn got up and Yone followed with disheartened steps. The singer was talking while walking towards the poolside patio nearby. Yone was back to answering him as he hurried his steps enough to reach Kayn and walked beside him.
“Have you ever said you wouldn’t drink much and actually kept your word?”
"There's that one time when..." Kayn pretended to remember, then changed his expression. "No, never. I always ended up shitfaced. You’re the one who’s supposed to be the master of self-control here."
Yone grinned crookedly. Kayn had opened the glass door and turned on a purely decorative yellow light. In the poolside patio there could be seen round tables, snooker tables and an elegant bar with warm light dimly litting the shelves with all kinds of bottles of liquor. In one of the areas, four yellow-patterned cushioned sofas were arranged in a subtle semicircle. Behind them, two sofas made of the same material and with the same pattern faced each other across a center table with a glass top. They closed themselves inside and Yone sighed. The place was big enough for a party to be thrown, and their steps echoed a bit in marble structure.
"This is not going to end well, Kayn, that's the truth."
"Oh, Yone..." Kayn put his arm behind Yone’s back and wrapped it around his waist, his voice getting deeper, as he was guiding them to the sofas. "There's nothing dangerous you can do that you haven't already done, right?"
He chuckled.
"Until I buy a breathalyzer-equipped phone, yes, there are dangerous things I can do."
Kayn just walked with him towards the bar. He pulled away, and Yone wanted to bring him back, but it was just a fleeting thought. So, making his way around the bar, Kayn went back to the sentence, even though it felt a bit too late.
"Dangerous like... being acidentally honest?"
"Maybe. Honesty is a dangerous thing.”
Kayn immediately nodded in agreement.
"But it can still be comforting."
Yone sighed. There was a time he would deny it imediately.
"I'll second that."
Kayn picked an intricately designed bottle of vodka and left it on the countertop.
"Okay. I had an idea that I think will make you agree. Let's play 'Never Have I Ever.'"
Yone had sat down on a stool across the counter, and, listening to that, his expression twisted. He leaned forward.
"Never Have I Ever?"
"You know how to play, don't you? Each of us says something starting with 'Never have I ever...' "
"...and anyone who has done that drinks from their glass. Whoever really hasn't done it, doesn't drink anything." Yone finished. "Yeah, I know how to play, I just... just didn't think you'd suggest a party game."
Kayn was picking up on the shelves and inside the mini fridge some syrup and soda water.
"Why wouldn't I?"
"What will happen if I ask you something that offends you?"
"I'll stop the game or I'll lie, that's all."
"That's all?" Yone raised his eyebrows incredulously.
"Didn't you trust me, Yone? Where is that now?"
"It's drowning in this bottle. I don't even trust myself when I drink, Kayn."
"Makes sense." Kayn glanced at the bottle and shrugged. "But I'll throw a rock at the first paparazzo I see in front of me if you don't play with me, how bout that" Kayn looked at Yone again, a simple smile on his face, as if he didn't care.
"Kayn, please, you don't need to-"
"And my aim is great, wow, I'll hit a rock right in the middle of the forehead of someone standing across the street."
"You say you don't like being disturbed, Kayn, so why do you keep making scenes? Our lives could be easier. You’re not making your case for not being unstable."
"Come on, I’m giving you the excuse you need to accept it, like I know you want. Take it already. Are you going to play or not? I'm warning you."
Yone looked at the transparent liquid of the expensive vodka in front of him and just sighed painfully. That was the magic potion for disaster. Kayn insisted, his voice relaxed.
"I just know you at this point. When you actually don’t want something, you don’t act so shy. And there's nothing stopping us from lying in this game, Yone. Just do what you always do and try to have fun. I won't be offended, I promise."
I just know you feels deep.
He probably does. Not completely, but more than anyone else in the world right now, and that was something.
Yone got up from the stool with a sigh.
"I'll leave my briefcase with a security guard and some instructions to give it back to me, wait here."
Kayn laughed at how methodical he was and started preparing their drinks.
When the manager returned, there was some upbeat music playing, with chill electronic vibes. Kayn was sitting in one of the sofas, all spread out among cushions. As Yone sat across the same sofa Kayn was on, the singer handed him a large, wide-mouthed glass filled with ice and a transparent drink, garnished with spices. Curious, Yone sipped it, and cocked his brows after doing so.
“This tastes amazing.”
“I’ve been a bartender before. Come on, let’s go for it." Kayn didn’t make a big deal of what he said. Instead, lifted his glass, and Yone had a smile of one who knows they are doing the wrong thing. "I’ll let you ask first. Never have I ever…”
Yone thought for a second.
"Never have I ever had a pet."
Kayn rolled his eyes.
"Ugh, boring. Are you afraid to ask questions?" He continued without drinking, and Yone also held his glass without drinking. For him, his answer meant more than Kayn imagined. As none of them drank anything, Kayn went on.
"Okay, then. Never have I ever crashed a party."
Yone pursed his lips and didn't drink. Kayn gave him an incredulous look as he drank his glass; after all, he had already crashed a lot of them.
"You're such a goody-two-shoes, and I'm the only one who's going to get drunk in this crap."
"Oh, yeah? Alright, then. Never have I ever dated more than one person at the same time.”
Kayn would learn that Yone had sent racy texts to the wrong person already, that he’s hooked up with people almost thirty years older than him and that he’s once dated four people at the same time. Everything was true, and Kayn went to bring them a different drink that he knew how to prepare. Kayn told him about many absurdly inappropriate gifts, texts and letters from fans, one story funnier than the last one. Eventually, both were tipsy, sitting close to each other enough for their knees to touch and for them to play with each other’s hair. Kayn told him about how he’s already run from the police from graffiting a wall, and the differences they had had in their lives was only amusing at that point. He would also tell about how he couldn’t keep a relationship for more than a couple of months, let alone more than one person at the same time, changing subject really quickly not to have to deepen it, saying he had to refill their drinks to make yet another one. Still, everything was light, and Yone could barely believe. He’d be impressed, and he was, as he saw someone that brings him so much trouble in one time can be such an amazing company in the other. They talked so freely that it was hard to believe.
They should stop at that third drink, it was Yone’s decision to keep as Kayn came back to the sofa they’re in with their glasses refilled.
“Okay, okay, okay, I have one.” He was already chanting while he was taking his seat back and handing Yone his drink. “Never have I ever had sex with a woman."
As soon as he finished his sentence and sat down properly, Kayn took a swig from his glass. Yone did too, signaling that both had indeed done that as well. The drink went down smoothly, sweet and tasty, a bit stronger.
“Care to tell more?” Kayn asked, leaning back on the sofa and pulling one leg bent to be more comfortable as he was looking at the man on his side.
Yone mirrored his gesture, not as a deliberate technique to create empathy and convince someone, but completely unaware that he did so this time.
“There were some here and there. When I was back home, a teen, I was aware that I was attracted to men mostly or exclusively, but there were some friends of my mother that found a young man attractive.”
Kayn frowned slightly, what Yone read as a subtle loathing expression.
“Smells like grooming to me.”
The manager nodded, shrugging. Well.
“Yeah, a little bit, because I don’t know how far they could be manipulating me as well. But it was mostly me who got them to give me gifts and treats.”
Amused, Kayn’s expression disarmed and he chuckled.
“You started early. My next question will be ‘ never have I ever had sex with someone just because I liked them and not to get something out of it ’, to get you to surely drink.”
It made Yone laugh, then he pouted and looked away, pensive for a moment.
“Hm. You know, if you asked me about that before, I really might drink to it. Still it’s hard that I do it only for that. I usually just combine business with pleasure. Literally.”
“Then why do you say ‘if you asked me about that before’?”
“Well, I don’t know if I’m getting something out of having sex with you, but I do like it a lot.”
Kayn clicked his tongue in a “tch”, and Yone knew he didn’t buy it, even though it wasn’t really a lie. It could have some shades to it, but it was essentially true. Still, the singer didn’t seem to straight up avoid it now, entertaining the conversation as he had promised to do.
“You can get me to do things you want me to do, since blackmailing didn’t work.”
“Pfft, Kayn.” Yone scoffed and lifted his brows. “Do I, really?”
“Well, yeah. Kinda.” Kayn sighed and sipped his drink even without any cue, just casually. “You entertain me enough to be playable. And you are aware of that.”
“Yeah, that, I am. I’m just playing my hand, but it’s a shot in the dark most of times. It’s just worth it.”
With that, Kayn went silent for a while. A faint smile reminisced in his lips as he leaned his head back on the backrest of the couch, leaning his head on the cushion and looking at the plaster ceiling. After some moments, he breathed in enough to fill in his lungs and released it in a sigh.
"You found out more, didn't you? About my past. That's why you're being so sweet with me, isn't it?"
Caught by surprise, Yone lifted his brows and breathed in a sigh.
He could straight up deny, but he had already taken too long at this point, and it would be pathetic anyway. He has to say it, so…
"How mad are you going to be at me?”
Still, Kayn’s reaction was chortling, almost completely unfazed, staring at the same plaster.
"You're a jerk, but it's your job. I never expected you to do less than hunt for information about me. And I didn't expect you to simply start liking me if it wasn't out of pity."
Yone shook his head and stared at his own hands.
"If anything, it’s pity for me, that I need proof to see the best in people. I don’t pity you, and that’s not why I like you."
Kayn rolled his eyes in disdain and sunk more into the couch.
"How much did you find out?"
“A bit. Zed told me a little bit about Heartsteel and Ezreal."
Yone held his breath, waiting for the burst. The answer that came back was, instead, just deadpan.
"And you know he died, don't you?"
Frowning, Yone hesitated.
"I… I do."
"Do you know why we went our separate ways?"
"What do you... no, what do you mean?"
Kayn sat straight up again and turned to look at Yone’s face again.
“And about my childhood?”
Yone swallowed hard. Kayn’s relentless gaze felt piercing or even threatening.
“I can mostly assume you went through a lot. I still don’t know exactly what. Can we- Kayn, I don’t think we should be having this conversation now. Let’s just-”
But shaking his head vehemently, Kayn gestured for him to stop.
"No. Don’t worry. It’s alright. I'll assume this isn't a bluff, after all, you really couldn't know." Then he searched for both of Yone’s hands, brought them to between them both and held them firmly, looking into his eyes. “I know it's your job, that you're used to doing this kind of thing, but if I asked you to stop investigating, for me, please, would you stop?"
"Kayn, it’s not-..."
"Yone, you said you don't like me out of pity. So, for someone you – whatever the reason – like or care about, could you please grant this one request?"
At that moment Yone couldn't deny anything to those pleading eyes.
"Alright." Yone sighed painfully. "Of course. As you wish."
Kneeling on the couch towards his manager, Kayn pushed himself forward, leaned on Yone’s shoulders and pressed their lips together. When he closed his eyes, Yone felt dizzy. His heart pounded as if it wanted to return to sobriety, but his mind drove him towards Kayn more and more fiercely. Did it work? Did they just averted a promised disaster like that? As he was laying down on the sofa and Kayn slowly climbed on top of him, he could only call it a win and wrap his arms around his shoulders.
Kayn felt his heart was pounding heavily, nauseated, irritated as if it had been rubbed against a poisonous plant and Yone could be the only soothing balm. So every time he pushed himself against him and their skins rubbed together, he wanted to sigh against his lips with a deep relief.
Yone was as much of a bad person as he was, they could laugh together at so many immoral things they did, and maybe they deserved each other.
They were soon grinding their bodies together, Kayn on top of him, and he was such a powerful presence that he felt like surrendering to it willingly. Not that they were properly sensitive enough to be hard on cue like that, but kissing and kissing with their bodies locked against each other felt amazing nevertheless, and he didn’t care where it would lead them afterwards.
Still, at one point, Kayn just pushed himself to straighten his arms so suddenly that it made Yone wonder for a second if there was something wrong. But the sight he had on top of him was of a smiling Kayn that he hoped the alcohol would allow him to remember.
“Hey! Can you teach me how to dance something you like?”
A bit confused still, Yone watched as Kayn got up to and rambled about music and everything else while picking his phone to look for songs.
Yone stood up, hands on his waist, trying to make his brain think about what he could teach, but it wasn’t truly as if Kayn actually wanted to learn. He just picked some songs to dance to and did so, which for some moments just made Yone laugh and be unsure of what he was even supposed to do, as if Kayn saying ‘let’s just fucking dance’ wasn’t enough.
Eventually, though, it was, and Yone allowed the music to move him instead of his brain. When Kayn danced like crazy, there was hardly anything left to think about which are the correct steps and what he would think of it. Sometimes Kayn would even try to follow some moves, which was just as fun as losing pace and laughing it off.
There was this specific moment as they’re together where Yone has his hair loose, and it feels like it’s only their moment, and if Kayn thinks of it, it’s already engraved in his system. Because they can’t fake having this much fun, and they can’t pretend to be sweating out everything else. Yone’s eyes aren’t tired anymore, at least not from stress, because there will be a moment in that night when they danced and laughed way too much for their bodies to keep it up, so he danced harder and even crazier until something hit him.
There was just one person else in this world he had ever danced like that with, the whole night. Feeling so young, so free, so full of hope.
So, it caught him like a punch in the chest, and out of nowhere, his throat ached and he felt weird inside his own body, shameful even to be dancing as if he deserved to be so carefree. Trying not to bring down the mood along with him, at most he managed to say he was exhausted and threw his body on the sofa back again.
None the wiser, Yone was puffing and sweaty and just agreed to resting a little bit, also releasing his body next to Kayn’s and closing his eyes a bit, searching for Kayn’s hand.
Kayn held it, firmly, trying not to squeeze it as tight his heart felt. He didn’t want to talk, and probably couldn’t, so he snuggled up closer and laid on Yone’s chest. Feeling his own heart hammering against Kayn’s also hot body, Yone sighed and held him close. The colorful hair close like that to his face made him want to kiss it, but he didn’t move. They were very comfortable there as well.
Kayn closed his eyes and hoped to sleep. Thanks to the sound of Yone’s heartbeats and the heat of his body, he had something else to pay attention to than his own thoughts. So, a bit after, he faked to be asleep hard enough for his body to comply.
Enjoying the good feeling spreading inside his chest and crawling on his skin anywhere Kayn was touching him, Yone noticed that he had fallen asleep on his body after feeling heavier and heavier, having his breath deeper and deeper. His momentary tranquility made Yone want to close his eyes and fall asleep with him. But he knew it was too risky for someone to capture an image of his car leaving his house in the morning when it looks like the surveillance is increased now. It was already suspicious enough to leave when it was the A.M. already; he couldn't sleep there.
He looked down, however, and just wanted to caress Kayn's hair, so he did it, the pink and purple strands so soft in his fingers, so calm, so peaceful. It seemed a sin to wake him; Yone felt this way since the day he hugged him to calm down.
Maybe he pays the security to take his car home.
He’d start blinking heavier before coming to any conclusions.
The singer made some sounds with his throat, a little annoyed, which disturbed the peace of the sleep that Yone had admired. He looked down and saw the other's face contort a bit. Soon, though, Kayn seemed restless, and he murmured ininteligible things, some of which could sound like a "no, not this," as he was grunting and thrashing weakly on his body.
"Kayn? Wake up, Kayn." Yone grabbed his shoulders and forced his body to sit up straight, trying his best to wake him up without startling him, to o avail. At that, Kayn sat up suddenly, with wide eyes, looking scared and lost.
"Were you having a nightmare?" He asked softly, gently stroking Kayn’s cheek with his thumb, whose eyes still couldn’t find a place to stay still.
Kayn didn't answer, but he lifted his face. When his eyes met Yone's, he placed his hands on his shoulders and pressed his lips to his, much to his surprise.
Eyes wide open at first, swallowed hard before corresponding, allowing his eyes to close. The kiss didn’t deepen, but it felt like it did in all sorts of other ways.
“I, hm.” Kayn struggled to find the words, the little sleep he had probably making the alcohol hit even harder; that, and maybe something else. He stumbled slightly when he stood up, and getting up Yone tried to support him.
“Yeah, I… I really need to sleep.” Kayn said, avoiding Yone’s gaze for a moment, but not his proximity, as he remained close and hooked his index finger on the other’s.
“I think we both should. I also have to work tomorrow.”
“Drink some water, hm?”
“Hey, being the voice of reason is my job here.” Yone cooed, spiritedly, playing with Kayn’s fingers.
“If that’s what you are, I’m fucked.”
They laughed easily, even if weakly. The giggles bubbled in their throats and they couldn’t step out of each other’s reach.
“You have a point. Do drink water yourself as well.”
They kissed once more and sighed almost at the same time, Kayn finding the heart to step back.
“Thank you for today.” Kayn said as he released Yone’s hand, walking to pick his phone from the center table.
“No, thank you. It was awesome.” Yone also stepped back, even if it would mean that he was walking even more to inside the wide room.
“See you tomorrow?” Turning off the music that was still playing, Kayn asked, mostly only glancing at Yone.
“You bet.” Yone’s answer sounded way too loud in that huge empty room, which would be even emptier as Kayn left.
A security guard would drive him home in his car and take a taxi back to his boss’ house.
Being drunk and silent inside his car all alone with a stranger feels lonelier and lonelier the farther they go, and all the good feelings from the night start crashing down in Yone’s perception. Through the car window the iconic Hollywood sign appears in the distance, as it always does in that route to his house, but right now it felt like the first time he can see it perched majestically on the hills. Lost in perception with Art Deco building and towering skyscrapers glowing with illuminated windows, their reflections shimmering on glass facades like stars fallen to earth. The city that never sleeps is the nickname for New York, but it does feel like the city of angels also can’t take a single nap, at most it could pass out in someone’s limousine with their glittery make-up on.
He had gotten home and dragged his steps to the living room, that house feeling absolutely gigantic to him even though he had just come from Kayn’s mansion. Roaming as if he didn’t know where he was supposed to go, and he found himself sitting in front of the piano.
His fingers caressed the keys. Last time he was in front of this piano had been probably to impress a guest. So he pressed one, and the other, and started playing one of Schubert’s serenades. His hair fell over his eyes, and he hardly realized how disheveled it had become throughout the night. The agility of his fingers was reduced, and he hardly cared, trying to feel the flow. But his notes stumbled, and as the disharmonic sound violated the rhythm, he laughed at himself in the room.
"You noticed you missed a note, didn't you?" He spoke to himself in a caricatured voice in Japanese, a tone that wasn't his. "That's not how we taught you, Yone. You'll never be the main piano, Yone. You embarrass me, Yone."
He stood up, and his stomach was in his throat. He turned back to the piano, and his voice lost control.
"I noticed, father, damn it, to hell with your sonatas!" In Japanese as well, Yone had yelled at nothing, at the austere musical instrument, and it responded to his madness with silent formality. The son of two classical music lovers just fell onto the living room couch and buried his face in a cushion. His last sentence was barely more than a mumble.
"I'm not the damn main piano, never was, for anyone."
And I’ll never be, he mouthed at most. From then on, he either slept or didn't remember anything anymore.
Chapter Text
“Rhaast, wake up! Wake up, man, dammit!”
Kayn jolted awake with a slap to his chest. His eyes flew open and the first thing he saw was Sett’s face staring at him sternly. Soon, The Boss put both hands back on the steering wheel of the car. It was his turn to drive, and Kayn had been sleeping in the passenger seat of the van. The rest of the band was sitting in the back seats, and even further back were the boxes with their musical instruments.
“What’s it, fuck?” Kayn growled at Sett.
“You were having a pretty bad nightmare, man,” Sett said. “You were screaming some creepy stuff, even woke Phel up.”
Kayn took a look behind himself, seeing Phel awake and also Ezreal, beside him with an attentive countenance. He was behind Sett inside the van, the black wristbands contrast with the pale skin of his arms and he had his legs leaning behind the backrest of Sett’s seat. The hair was dyed a different shade of green from Kayn’s and framed his pale face, in which the recent bruise stood out on his cheek near his clear ocher eyes.
Only he noticed how pale Kayn was. They exchanged a knowing look a few times, until Kayn crossed his arms as if attempting to lock himself away from the exterior, giving his best to focus somewhere in a never-ending road. Not much later, amidst the music from the radio, Ezreal’s voice could be heard.
“Can we stop to get something to eat at the next gas station? I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Seriously? Again?” Sett comlplained.
“Yeah, man, I'm bursting already!”
“We stopped less than an hour ago, come on!”
“Dude, I cannot piss in a bottle. I truly wish I could.”
Sett sighed.
“Okay, then. As soon as I see one.”
It took them longer than they’d want, or mostly time dilates when you’re trying not to panic; but eventually they’d be parking in another gas station. Kayn got out of the car the minute it stopped, not really waiting for Sett to even turn off the engines. He just had to get away from that, from every small place like the inside of a car if even for some moments or as much as he could.
The roadside was a little like being free felt. Full of paths to choose, nothing around to hold onto. Just a small snackbar, gas pumps and corn fields stretching out as far as eyes could reach.
Standing somewhere, Kayn took a deep breath, looking at a random green or yellow point, although he knew he wouldn’t be alone for long. At that point, the loose strands of Kayn’s long, green hair were hitting his face and the eye patch he had been using way before they met. Ezreal was the only person that didn’t feel like competing for his oxygen, because it didn’t suffocate Kayn to have him around, not even when he thinks he doesn’t want to talk. So he had approached, because he wouldn’t allow Kayn to go through that alone.
“Were you dreaming about that again?”
Ezreal had always been like that; straight to the point, not very good with choosing the most polite words. Which actually Kayn appreciated, although right now it halted all his impetuosity. He narrowed his eyes.
“Go to hell.” He gave his back and walked away.
“Did something happen?” As well, Ezreal was used to the aggression. It no longer hurt him. He followed until Kayn stopped under a tree, that way he does when he’s begging to be chased after, but could never even admit to himself. “Your nightmares had stopped. Did they come back because of the beating? Because you know, I-”
“No, Ez.” He raised his eyes to the horizon. “You know I’ve been through worse without having anyone by my side. I punched those bald heads more to save your ass than mine.”
“And I did the same.”
He looked down at the grass up to his calves, then at the horizon. His expression was readable to Ezreal as casually as one can read the back of the cereal box while by the kitchen table. They had been living together for three years and a lifetime. Ezreal knew every storm of that past, every effort to get up every day, how much Kayn did everything to protect every spark of the flame that still fueled his dreams.
“Getting beaten up is nothing. You were there by my side.”
Ezreal reached out and touched Kayn’s arm. He held his wrist for a moment, over the fabric wristband they both wore.
“Always.”
At that point, the scars were still very prominent. He didn’t have all of his tattoos, medicine and treatments to cover them up. He had only wristbands.
“But it’s mostly having Sett with us that actually saved our asses, you gotta admit.”
A smile formed on Kayn’s lips even without the chuckle that would come. He shrugged, but didn’t want to talk about that for the moment, sighing instead.
“What was I screaming when you woke me up?”
“Hm. Mostly hard to understand, but sounded like 'no' over and over again." Ezreal gestured that he had kept repeating.
Kayn swallowed hard. He leaned against the tree and began picking small pieces of bark with his fingertips.
“My nightmares didn’t come back from the beating. They’ve been happening since that night I slept out. And I don’t regret it. We’re heading to Bellingham, aren’t we?”
It was barely bearable to see Ezreal’s expression simply crumbling down, how deep his eyes were.
“You didn’t… Oh, no, man.” Ezreal turned away, hands on his hips. “Don’t do this… Not you.”
“How do you think we got this gig, Prodigal Explorer? Because of the guy’s kind heart?”
“We do this for the rock, Kayn! We do this for the music, for the only thing that gets us up in the morning! What are you, a whore?”
Kayn raised his eyes, his gaze incredulous.
Although from constant harm you may develop thick skin, when your bruises never stop bleeding, the faintest of touches hurts.
He shook his head very slightly and said nothing, looking at the van without any interest in seeing anything.
Ezreal’s expression became distraught and he swallowed hard.
“I didn't mean it, Kayn.” Ezreal’s lips trembled. “I’m- I’m so sorry.”
“Whatever.”
The harsh words hurt, but Ezreal was the only person he felt would never truly hurt him, no matter what he said. Nothing could scratch the surface of everything he had shown him. And not a single feeling was deeper than just sharing his time, than just being there and showing he’s worth it and that he isn't just either profit or a liability.
“It’s just… You promised me you wouldn’t do that anymore. You can’t do this.”
Ezreal did the absurdity of caring.
Ezreal dared to show him love.
“You talk like I work on a street corner or in a brothel.”
“Are you saying that trading sex for favors isn’t prostitution? It’s just a different reason. I won’t be part of gigs you get for us with something terrible you do to yourself.”
“It’s not terrible. It’s practical.”
“Your body isn’t an object. No matter what you’ve been led to think, you need to get that into your head.”
“It’s not that big of a deal, don't be a drama queen.”
“What would you do if I started doing drugs again?”
“I’d tie you up in the bathroom until the drug was out of your system, and I wouldn’t let you go back to that crap.”
“You’d do that because you know it destroys me. So why should I let you destroy yourself?”
Ezreal had stepped closer, wanting Kayn to look directly into his eyes.
“Don’t compare the two things.”
“How can I not? This is just as horrible as me being on drugs again!”
“It’s not a big deal, Ezreal.” Kayn raised his voice, just to emphasize. “It’s just a bunch of fucks.”
With a sigh, Ezreal gave up trying to make look at him. He ran a hand through his hair, distressed.
“If that’s so, why are you having nightmares? One day you’ll feel good having sex with someone, Kayn. It doesn’t have to be like this.”
“Or maybe I won’t. Whatever.” He shrugged. “It’s just one fuck after another.” He reiterated.
Ezreal sighed, and then stepped forward to be in front of him instead of by his side.
“I wish-... I wish you understood it, Kayn. How special you are.”
They looked into each other's eyes.
Kayn had never thought of kissing him, only every time he looked at him . But every time his clothes were off, it made him wish for misery as a relief, and disgrace was the lightest of euphemisms. Meantime Ezreal was as lovely as a dandelion; felt like summer sunrise and smelled like fresh elderberry. Ezreal meant having someone to get back to when everything went wrong and the day was barely worth having left the bed. Ezreal meant cooking something barely edible in a basement and laughing so hard at your pitiful dinner that you forget you haven’t eaten for two days. Ezreal meant standing straight up and relaxing your arms, not crossing them in front of your chest anymore, while you look at the sky absurdly high on weed without a single thing to hold back anymore. Until your tears are from laughter and you’re only breathless because everything is too damn funny.
Ezreal was everything he isn't, while still matching every single piece of him as no one else would.
He could not touch him, not with his sin-stained hands and hate-contaminated claws. Not him, not he who was his hope.
“I appreciate it. And, yeah… They say a real family has its bumps too.” Kayn smiled at him.
Ezreal didn’t hold back. He smiled sardonically, putting his hands in his pockets. Family it is.
In his turn, Ezreal would never, ever show him any physical desire whatsoever; and as he had felt it, it was a mistake. No, that’s what the people Kayn hated did. And he could deal with withdrawal before dealing with hurting Kayn the very least, or the idea of becoming for even a second someone who has betrayed his trust.
The two stood in a silence that felt comfortable despite the tension, a silence filled with unspoken understanding. Ezreal knew the scars he carried, both visible and hidden. He knew the battles Kayn fought every day, and he admired his strength even when it came with a heavy price.
“Let’s get back in the van,” Ezreal finally said. “We have a gig to get to.”
Kayn nodded, pushing away the lingering shadows of his nightmare. They both knew the road ahead wasn’t easy, but they had each other. And for now, that was enough. The van would rumble to life, and they continued their journey, the night stretching out before them, filled with the promise of music, the road, and the unbreakable bond they shared.
As Kayn woke up from the dream, it wasn't to Ezreal’s attentive eyes. Those eyes were gone forever. Instead, he had woken up with Yone’s wooden smell, kind of drunk already, but not that much.
He hadn’t dreamt about that exact night, but of those feelings. His subconscious wasn’t as much of a pure artist as his memory, and didn’t direct that dream to allow him to revive a good memory. It could, though, make him mix everything else, every other nightmare and their causes.
It was hard to let Yone go that night. They were having so much fun.
How dared him.
A part of him wanted to ask Yone to stay, but he said he needed to sleep. He told him to drink some water, and thanked him for the night. As their hands lingered together, Kayn knew he’s been holding on for dear life to everything Yone causes him. Because having sex with him feels amazing, and because Yone could be someone deserving of everything he has to offer.
Pain, money, regret and notoriety.
Trying not to stare or to worry too much about the silence, he asked if he would see him tomorrow, after having done everything he’s done, and Yone said he could bet on it.
Was Yone truly deserving of that, though, or is it just convenient to tell himself?
It was even harder to go back to his bedroom and not have anything else to make the pain go away, since he’d gotten rid of the drugs. He walks his way of clear hallways where ceilings soar high above, constellated with the crystal from the chandelier, and steps half-heartedly on velvet tapestries of deep burgundy and royal blue. Polished marble tiles arranged in elaborate patterns make every step of his echo somewhere he didn’t quite comprehend. The air itself seems perfumed with a blend of exotic spices and the faintest hint of vanilla that someone else bought for him, and it feels nauseating even though he isn’t really that drunk.
He panicked inside his apartment-sized bedroom and drank some more before he though of breaking the tiles beneath his feet with the closest gold statue. Before he could do something stupid, he smoked weed until he hoped to be so dizzy from being drunk and high that he could barely allow a single thought to settle in.
***
The throbbing in his head was his body calling him an idiot. Yone leaned on the counter of the café with his espresso cup in hand. He had already taken some pills for the pain, but hangovers were not something that had a cure. It wasn't strong, though, and actually it was only barely because of the alcohol; it was just that downing vodka, even if the most exquisite one he could think of, after you had some of the most stressful couple of days of the year, barely having slept at all for a long while, will surely come with a price.
The ring of his cellphone and the vibration in his pocket brought Yone back to the present. While taking a sip of coffee, he looked at the name on the screen. He pursed his lips and sighed before answering.
"Good morning, K’Sante."
"Hey, Yone." K’Sante voice was just firm.
"Any problem?" Yone checked his watch. It was half-past eight in the morning.
"Several, but that's not what I want to talk to you about."
"As long as it's not to make my ears a trash can, I'm here to listen and solve whatever you need."
"It's not to solve anything. Well, at least nothing work-related. It's about our fight yesterday. All of is very unresolved... I wanted to know if you have time to sort this out."
"I don't know, K’Sante." Yone sighed and put his coffee down on the counter. He leaned back again. "I don't know if this is still working. That argument made some things quite clear to me."
K’Sante voice didn't sound surprised, nor bitter or annoyed. It was flat, linear, and decided.
"Alright, if you want to do this, have the decency to make sure it's in person. We didn't meet just last week. We have business behind this, we have a lot to discuss and arrange. You're not a schoolgirl."
Yone sighed and paused briefly.
"Of course. You're right." He responded. "What do you have in mind?"
"Come over to my place for dinner Saturday. My wife will be traveling again after we go to a charity auction event." K’Sante proposed.
He looked down. The suggestion gave him an unpleasant feeling in his chest, but he kept his voice simple.
"Sounds fair. Alright, it's a plan. Next Saturday, then, at your place."
***
While Yone hadn't arrived, Irelia had stayed on the phone. She drummed her fingers on her desk.
"Yes, from Seattle." She continued with her eyes fixed on the entrance door. "Do you know anything about that?"
"No, I don't. Is Yone looking into it?" They responded from the other end of the line.
"He hasn't dealt with it yet. But before he left, he gave me permission to find out. I found out that either Kayn goes personally to retrieve the contents in Seattle, or they can send it. However, to do that, you need to confirm Kayn's document numbers—"
Irelia saw the entrance door open and hung up the phone without saying another word, cutting off mid-sentence. She stood up with her tablet in hand when she saw her boss walk in, smiling casually at him.
Yone mentally noted the methodical, short steps of his Oxford shoes on the floor.
"Good morning, Irelia." Yone opened up his best facade smile.
"Good morning, boss." Irelia didn't smile back, but her voice was sweet. "Yesterday, I researched information about the SIDE box 03162010, as you asked, and—"
"Forget about that."
"Excuse me, sir?"
"You heard me. Leave it aside for now." Yone turned to her. He stopped walking. "Do you have any other appointments today?"
Irelia hesitated for a moment, frowning. She turned her attention to her tablet, fiddled with it for two seconds, long enough for Yone to sigh.
"At two in the afternoon, there's a meeting with Akali and Kayn's band." The assistant said without looking up. "Even with the music video incident, this meeting was scheduled a long time ago.”
"Has Kayn been informed of this?"
"It's not on the schedule. Technically, he would still be recording at this point."
Yone sighed.
"Since you two are buddies, call him and let him know he has a meeting to attend."
"Are you sure about that?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, Kayn isn't the type who likes meetings. He's... skittish. He likes to do what he wants, simplicity and... and blackmail."
Yone sighed and started walking towards his office.
"I know that. But I need to give him the chance to choose, and we need him to know it's open to him too. It's not fair that Kayn isn't part of this. It's not fair and it's not safe. We can’t afford another incident where he hates what he's singing with all his might."
Irelia lowered the tablet and nodded.
"I understand. It's a safer move."
"And, to be honest?" Yone sighed before entering his office. "Maybe no one has noticed, maybe the bureaucracy of all this has already entrenched itself, but the songs are his. It's more than fair, it's obvious and doing otherwise is a recipe for disaster. That’s how this is going to be from now on.”
***
Yone was smiling weakly and closing the door of the first room of Kayn's studio, the one with the computers, control tables, and electronic equalizers. Under his arm, he had three huge folders and his usual briefcase. It was past five in the afternoon, and the meeting with Akali about the songs had come to an end, both of them going back to Kayn’s place together afterwards. His shoulders were stiff, his mind was exhausted, but he couldn't help but smile. The singer had called him to the studio and had an entertained voice.
"...have the next meeting here. I think the band members will be able to help much more if they're in contact with the instruments." The singer was following him and hadn't stopped talking since they got out of the car.
Kayn had intervened in all the decisions, giving his opinion at every moment. Thus, he had irritated Akali — but inwardly, Yone just laughed. He knew that meeting barely involved Kayn. He knew that more paperwork meetings would be needed later, and he knew Akali would organize many other meetings without Kayn's presence. However, Yone had already given Kayn the idea he wanted: that he really wanted him to be part of it.
Kayn was still talking when he opened the recording area door. Yone's silence intrigued him, and he turned to look at him, finding his smile.
"What are you grinning about?"
"I'm not grinning, I'm smiling." Yone put the things on the command table, next to the turned-off computers. "You're talking about the next meeting. You want to participate in them. I didn’t even think you’d go today, but I’m pleasantly surprised."
"I don't want to be dozing off on a mahogany table and papers, like I did today." Kayn took a step onto the platform where the instruments were positioned. "A real record is made in the studio, hitting and missing, listening, playing, trying stuff out."
Kayn spun once among the instruments, the golden drum set, the wide keyboard, and the empty stands for the bass and guitar. On one side of the studio, a wide white couch and mini-fridges with water; on the opposite side, fifteen types of guitars and seven types of basses rested inside a specific glass-doored cabinet. Kayn's eyes lingered on his favorite rehearsal guitar, but he didn't walk the way to get it. Yone also stepped onto the platform and took a few broad, relaxed steps toward Kayn, who noticed him approaching, but didn’t mind.
Much to his surprise and also not at all, the manager held him by the waist and pulled him, hugging him from behind.
"We need the formalities, but you're right. You are right and, even so, you were kind all the afternoon." Yone's voice was light next to Kayn's face, wrapping his arms around his waist.
"Kind? Akali wanted to skin me with a pocket knife." Kayn laughed only when he felt the hug.
"She wants to skin me alive, too. But you weren't disruptive; you were interfering in what interests you."
The two were standing in the middle of the studio, and Kayn's eyes rested on the golden shine of the drums, outlining its entire contour in his thoughts.
"It's just that I need to participate in this, or..." Kayn held Yone's hands and intertwined his fingers. "The thing is, I love rock too much and I guess I was born in the wrong decade. I lived as if I were a punk, maybe thinking I was something like them. In reality, I'm a pop star from the idol group generation. After what I saw in the video clip, if they let me do anything heavier, they'll put a rap in it. I don't want that to happen."
Yone took a deep breath, feeling the singer's hair perfume permeate his lungs and his perception; he just tightened his arms around his body.
"You know I'm with you on this. I want you to keep up with all this energy, and you leave the rest to me."
Yone had whispered conspiratorially, but his voice almost purred in Kayn's ear. The singer felt a shiver run up his back, a shiver he couldn't disguise. When Yone felt the other's skin bristle in his arms, he touched his lips to his neck, kissing it slowly.
Kayn once again felt his body calling, screaming for Yone. It was excessive, too intense, almost absurd. He freed himself from Yone’s hands and turned to face him. His hand insinuated itself under the fabric of his suit jacket and, passing his hands under it, took it off Yone's body.
"I think I'm spoiling you with all my kindness. You might need something rougher to remind you of who you’re dealing with."
In that, Kayn grabbed Yone’s tie and pulled it down, making his manager bend a bit until their faces are aligned.
At that, all Kayn could see was the heat spreading throughout Yone’s ever so cold jade eyes, and his grin that never looked afraid the very least.
“You do deserve a reward for today’s good behavior, kitten.”, his manager said, feeling challenged.
Maybe Yone could take him, with all it meant. Maybe they are good together because of that.
“Do I deserve it enough for you to give up control?” Kayn rolled the tie around his palm to make it tighter around Yone’s neck and also shorter a leash to control.
“Maybe. What do you have in mind?”
“You’re the guy who puts everything in order, aren’t you?” Kayn's voice was amused, and his free hand held. “What about in the middle of a room this size? How will you feel being completely in someone else’s hands?”
“Do you have what it takes to try it?”
To be honest, Yone was too tired to resist and keep playing the dominant one in that situation. He just wanted Kayn to do it, and do it hard, until he makes him forget everything else. That he had meetings to attend, that Akali was probably about to put Evelynn against him, that there’s still a music video to be sorted out, that he had to talk to K’Sante on the weekend, that there was a letter to care about and his assistant was acting weird.
Just for today, or that’s what he’s been saying ever since he’s gotten trapped inside of Kayn’s arms for the first time, addicted to how he’s good at ruining everything so damn beautifully.
He felt his voice soften when Kayn slipped his hand into the pocket of his dress pants, taking out his wallet. He opened it, took out a condom and put it inside his own pocket. Then he stepped forward and kissed Yone with all he’s got, again. The difference was because they allowed fuel for the oxidizer; they allowed indecency to be added. Then the hands no longer held back, grabbing where they wanted, and they kissed more and more furiously, until Kayn’s mouth escaped Yone’s and slid to his chin and then to his neck, pressing a soft but firm bite there. The lips engaged in a long kiss on the sensitive skin, lightly drawing a mischievous smile. It seemed to be really effective, because he noticed Yone trembling against his body and that sensation was stunning, like being able to make an entire tower shake with a mere touch of his hands.
In that case, if there was still some kind of restriction in Kayn, it vanished, exploded in the distance, blinding, deafening. Aggressively he took off his own jacket and threw it on the floor, his eyes blazing. In the same impetus, he pushed everything in the closest desk to the side to make room, knocking some things to the floor. Once he had his hands free, he turned Yone with his back to him and his manager leaned both hands on it.
That had been so hot that it not only turned into desire whatever had been left of reluctance in Yone, but probably let it overflow, to the point that he writhed from the violence of the throbbing in his groin. He wanted to say that it wasn't a competition, he really wanted it, but actually something else in him wanted Kayn to ruin him; his hand was between his legs and the other held his face, making him look at him even though his back was turned to him. Their lips met and Yone no longer had the strength to do anything other than surrender to that once and for all. In every kiss they built, in which they indulged, Yone knew that nothing was the same as before. With every kiss there, he was further away from everything, too.
If he was honest with himself - something he rarely managed to do - Kayn would admit that he also didn't understand anything about what he felt. He couldn't know what it was about Yone that made leisure and obscenity coexist in his mind, not just at the same time, but in the same place. He wanted to bite that back, he wanted to scratch it and mark it in his own way, but, following his own desires, he began to kiss slowly along his spine, exploring the slender design of his muscles with his mouth, while the tips of his his fingers slid along the sides, where his lips didn't cover. In a tremulous glimpse he saw that pale skin under his tongue, through half-open eyelids.
Trying to look over his shoulder, Yone arched his back, inevitably pushing his hips upwards, and causing that friction against Kayn made him groan. He felt the incredibly skillful hands once again undoing his pants and he really wanted to keep looking, but the sight of Kayn kneeling on the floor behind him while lowering his pants to his knees made him lose his strength. He could only rest his forehead on the desk, the edges of which he gripped until his knuckles turned white as soon as Kayn started eating him out.
The desire grew when it already seemed unbearable and combating the aggression was the delicacy of each breath heaved against his skin; and he almost held on to avoid falling when he felt the pornographic touch of those lips behind him, the resolute and hot touch in an unacceptable coordination. He was having a feast; Kayn was enjoying himself all over around there. He lacked breath for the smallest of requests, though; it was barely enough to give him oxygen, and he was almost thankful enough, but he needed more so that he would be truly obliterated. So, already eager and feral, he called for Kayn, just as he was calling for everything that was sacred he had never prayed for, begging without knowing exactly what he was saying, but please, please.
“Please, Kayn…” Arms shaking, he turned, consumed with fury and anguish at the same time. It was completely out of his control, and he was so, so thankful.
Kayn raised his body to stand again, his breath hissing at the end of a growl, and really his image was raw and obscene, with a feral primitiveness; he spat to the side and wiped his damp mouth and chin with his arm, reaching for his belt.
"Please what?" He grunted roughly, fingers unbuckling his belt.
Yone panted, sweat appearing on his neck as if he was burning from the inside out still inside his now crumpled clothes.
“ More .”
"More what?" Opening his pants and allowing them to fall to his knees, Kayn sneered.
Honestly, Yone didn't know how to answer. It wasn't even because he couldn't utter some pure vulgarity that he was expecting. If he wanted to say it, if what he wanted to beg for was for Kayn to fuck him once and for all, he would just say it. It wasn't that, but at the same time, he was incapable of devising any reasoning about meanings beyond it. He just wanted more, viscerally, uncontrollably, and the closest thing he had to that was the image of the singer behind him with his pants falling to his knees. So he’d try the best he could, dissatisfied with how little it meant wit how much he felt.
“Fuck me already, please…”, the words seethed in Yone’s mind and he did his best to utter it, believing that it was enough. In response, thankfully, Kayn wrapped his hair around his hand and tugged on it like a leash.
“Do you want me this bad, Yone?”
Yone gasped, his head bent back, rolling his eyes.
“I swear to you- fuck. Fuck, Kayn… Any time, any time.” he sighed in hiccups, shuddering. His cock was ridiculously wet and he pushed his body towards Kayn, whimpering low.
He knew that it was the right thing to say, for everyone.
So, now, if it was true, he just didn’t have to even think.
His voice was strangled, but that torturing pleasure was as good as it gets, and he just uttered whatever. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the desktop once again. His head was heavy, his body a myriad of sensitivities.
"I didn't hear." He leaned against Yone’s body, pressing his entire body against his back. As if to finish torturing him, he moved greedily against his body, a strong back and forth as if he were inside him, but still just rubbing against him; it had made Yone moan loudly.
“Kayn, please ...” It was his first truly loud moan, which reverberated in the frightening acoustics of the place, but it didn't matter. That room was soundproof.
The singer grabbed the condom he had left on his pocket, once again moving obscenely, and bit the package of one to open it. At that, Yone stood up and turned to face Kayn once more, overcome by despair, still inside his subduing embrace.
He sobbed, breaking away from his hold until he was the one wrapping him in Kayn’s arms once again. He kissed Kayn and, through all the crudeness, it was that. That was the more that he needed. As he said from the beginning and repeated, he wanted and needed Kayn right now.
Kayn trembled against the touch and lost himself in it, a moan almost like a low whine leaving his throat without his authorization, as Yone put the condom on him and he grabbed Yone’s shoulders like a rock so he wouldn't be carried away in a river stream. No, no, no- he wouldn't make it if Yone touched him like that and took control. He swatted Yone's arm so he would stop touching him, wrapped his arms his around his waist and in a few moments lifted him up on his lap, supporting him on the desk once again, this time laying him on his back, belly up.
The delicious and indecent image in front of him would just stun him. Yone rests on his forearms, lips full, sharp smile, his entire body covered in a light blush and a soft sheen of sweat. Lowered eyelids, a dark glow in his clear eyes, and something else… something beyond pornographic. Watching him squirm as his hips moved forward slowly, without breaking the intense gaze they shared... experiencing the pleasure it caused someone and feeling connected to it was terrifying, but the scene itself was too obscene, too strong, too beautiful.
Maybe it was there when Kayn had gone into free fall. Yone didn't keep his voice down when each sudden movement of Kayn's hips also pushed the air out of his lungs in an absolutely untamed moan. Nothing there was very understandable, muffled words, sighs, sobs and many, many moans. His legs were around Kayn's waist, arms resting on his shoulders, his head hanging on the other side of a desk as he is fucked to oblivion. He kept his head hanging back and moaning, closing his eyes and whimpering, and he managed to open his legs wider as if he wanted to have more of Kayn inside him. Kayn was resting his head on Yone’s shoulder and feeling each impact rip his voice from his throat.
He didn’t mind anymore. Maybe he should take care, but he was so, so grateful that Kayn was about to blow up his mind, that he could just ravage his guts like that and he had only what to be thankful for. And there Kayn was, pulling Yone towards himself while thrusting into him at the same time, the desk creaking louder even than their their flesh clashing, sweaty limbs slipping. It was hard to keep any of those paces, because the very idea of being so deep inside Yone, his warmth so delicious around him, was already transcendental - but doing something fast was halfway for him to get into a vertiginous and irreversible state of arousal. He could not let himself go and just come already, or, worst case scenario, hurt Yone somehow. He closed his mouth and let his head hang, coughing dryly and trying to keep track of his respiration. So he was going in that unstable pace, more interested in their bodies together, and his arms changed the position to lean over and hug Yone instead. He allowed his lips to be bitten and his skin to be nailed, tasting the sweat in Yone's shoulder, hugging and rolling hips, growing together slowly and devastatingly.
"Sweet f-” Yone gasped loud, almost suffocated in his own pleasure, and dug his nails on Kayn's shoulders and back, incapable of keeping his body in control. “You can keep fucking me harder… just wreck me…”
“I’m not even close to finishing you off yet.” When he moved again, he placed both arms under Yone’s knees, keeping them open and releasing him from around his waist. He continued to rest his hands on the wall, mesmerized by his moans.
“Kayn- you…” a groan interrupted his sentence, “are you okay?”
"What?” He even stopped mid-thrusting, confused. “What are you talking about?"
While one arm tightened around Kayn's shoulders to help maintain that position, the other hand went to his face.
"Are you enjoying it?"
“What kind of stupid fucking question is that?”
Then, in what almost instantly melted Kayn's entire body, Yone begged him to cum in the most sinful hush, like the hush of a devil within someone's subconscious. He couldn't replay it in his mind, how intense it had been, the way he had used the words.
Inside him, there, however he wanted; just do it, just use me.
Yone begged. He cried out. He was reduced to a ridiculous mess in Kayn’s arms, who took it on without weakening, again and again, taking charge of his pleasure and carrying out that task with a precision that he, Kayn, could only dream of managing.
All Kayn remembered about himself was resting his head on his shoulder and feeling each impact of his own tearing his voice from his throat, as if it didn't belong to him. The desk creaked with the coming and going, the sweat, the hoarse moans, slowly and passionately; lust, desire, fire and, above all, that hyperbole of unreal pleasure. As if the strength was no longer his to dominate. Then the whisper, the damn whisper, once more, into his ear:
“Make me yours, Kayn, Kayn ...”
Even with every other wild feeling rampaging inside of him now, Kayn had opened up an uncontrollable smile, huge, manic, but the image of him reaching his orgasm was unstoppable. Yone was beautiful, so beautiful. He had always been and now he saw clearly, or was it his mind that dyed perception with the most appropriate colors? More damn questions, and the truth was yet another impossible antithesis: he wanted to unite with him and fit against his body like a puzzle piece, at the same time he wanted to collide with him in some irreversible impact that would destroy them one against the other to leave out only something unique and completely new. He did not understand. He just didn't understand, and it filled him with fury, which escaped in spasms that fled his reason - sometimes he gave bites instead of kisses, sometimes he slipped into that conception of how delicious Yone was and struggled to return to the surface, each time more breathless and closer to delirious.
There, again, was where he couldn't even remember how it all happened. Who knows, maybe his blood pressure had dropped, maybe he had gone into some kind of ecstasy, but again he couldn't piece together why. They kissed as if it had been planned from the beginning. Kayn muttered swearing many times in a row and the whole situation blew his mind. Blinding, blasting, an unbelievable pleasure that even Kayn was vocalizing without stopping, because his voice just didn't stay inside him anymore, escaping through panting and desperate breathing, as he was coming with an insane intensity.
Fighting in his mind against the clearance of the fog that formed in his perception, Yone remained with his eyes closed as he was the rag of a man, but he had barely any strength to keep Kayn close, as his legs trembled way too much for him to wrap them around his waist. He just hoped Kayn would remain balls deep inside him, but the best worst thing had happened instead. Kayn stopped his thrusts and cupped his face, kissing him without hurry. He had no idea how his lips could taste that good neither why he lost the urge in those seconds while he was devouring his lips, but he couldn't stop. Still he opened his eyes only a bit to look at him and he only could think about how weird all the situation was. He swore he hated Yone and there he was. Slowly he let his fingers run in his hair and returned with the hard thrusts, ending the kiss with a bite on his lower lip, closing his eyes again. He didn't want any of this yet he couldn't imagine himself stopping, his head was spinning with his thoughts and he wasn't ready. For anything. His whole body was in flames and he lowered his lips to Yone’s shoulder, determined in not moaning his name as he kept on shoving, through exhaustion because he could only power through. He could feel the cum oozing in his cock and it felt so wrong for a moment, but the pleasure was making everything a blurry, hot mess and he saw himself clung to Yone like his presence was, terribly ironically, the only thing that made sense in his entire life, and he could go on until they are both absolutely ruined, body and mind, heart and soul.
Chapter 25
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Perhaps only after it all ended that they started paying attention to the acoustics of the studio. Coming back to his senses, Yone noticed the sound of their puffing breaths with the reduced reflections and resonance, although with fair diffusion. Seen above, there were the acoustic panels of the roof and the adjustable light creating a halo around Kayn’s silhouette. He found himself laying on a desk that was used during recordings to leave out water bottles and personal belongings, and Kayn had pushed papers and paraphernalia out of the way to put him there and fuck him stupid. True to his word, Kayn really roughed him up, the way he said to like it. And Yone also needed it.
It made him smirk and scoff.
Once more, it was hard to deny that Kayn was the best problem he’s ever had.
“You really meant it when you said you liked it rough, hm?”, his voice was slurry, pleased. His legs felt like jelly, hard to keep them around Kayn.
Kayn, though, really didn’t seem to be in the same wavelength. His concerned stare didn’t match Yone’s lazy ogling. He moved back his hips and slipped out of Yone, who groaned displeased, and asked with a really uncommon tone for his own words to wear.
“Did I hurt you?”
“Hm?” Still groggy, Yone was lifting his body up. “No, what…?”
“Are you bleeding?”
“What?” Yone sat down, frowning, not understanding the question. Could he actually be bleeding without noticing, without pain at all? Sometimes it’s possible from excessive friction itself, but as he checked, there wasn’t anything. “No, I’m literally not bleeding, it’s not even-”, but none of that mattered as Kayn stepped back as if cowering away while throwing the condom away, so Yone tilted his head and changed approaches. “I’m in one piece, Kayn. Are you alright?”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” And Kayn pulled up his pants, casting restless glances all over the room without properly observing anything.
Yone stepped on the floor with wobbly legs and stepped back in his trousers to wear them back.
“I literally loved it, come on. Sorry to tell you, but I’ve been fucked harder. Not better, but harder, so don’t worry about that. And that time definitely wasn’t as good as this one.”
“Yeah, I’m glad about that, but I-... we should see each other later, can we?”
Kayn’s breath was shorter as he started pacing arond the studio aimlessly, and of course Yone noticed it, approaching carefully.
“I feel like you need some aftercare. Come here, would you?”
“Don’t get me wrong, Yone, but I need you to get out of here.”
“It really wasn’t that rough, but sometimes when we do it too hard or if there’s degrading, the adrenalin drops afterwards. That’s BDSM practice, you can feel a dom or sub ‘drop’ if you don’t do aftercare. Not everyone needs it, but if a drop hits you, it may make you feel like you’ve done something wrong when you really didn’t. You just need to regulate.”
“Yeah, it’s definitely not that.” Kayn laughed, hands on his hips, looking away. “Get out, Yone, we talk about this later, ok? I just need a moment.”
Yone wouldn’t understand, mostly because Kayn himself didn’t want to admit to his own heart. But that heart knew it, nevertheless. If Kayn yelled it loud enough, maybe he could make the whole world believe he despised Yone, but he couldn’t convince himself any longer, and the glaring truth was there to haunt him, lurking in every corner.
Yone was the perfect escape. He could do to his manager what had been done to him by whoever wanted to use him, and dare to feel good in the meanwhile. Kayn had repeated this so many times, that his manager was such a scumbag that he deserved having to deal with every fall from grace. But no, not even Yone deserved him.
“Kayn-...”
“FUCKING LEAVE!” Kayn vituperated, and clenched his teeth.
Yone obeyed, silent, or so he thought.
Left by himself inside the studio, it was like the walls could close in. Some moments remained and lingered longer than he’d expect, not as smoothly sliding in his perception as much as clawing their way through.
Then something else shattered all those intrusive thoughts.
“Hello, Kayn. It’s me, your conscience. We haven’t talked for a while, I want to tell you that it’s really impolite to fuck someone’s brains out and then toss them on the street.”
The voice came from the stereos connected to the anteroom where there was the digital audio workstation setup.
Kayn stood there for a moment, quickly running out of ideas on how to respond to that, as if every shit he had to deal with in his mind was suddenly flushed down. So he started laughing, because what else would he do?
“I fucking hate you”, he cooed.
Yone was sitting down by the large desk that holds dual monitors, a powerful computer, and an array of high-tech equipment like MIDI keyboards, mixing consoles, and audio interfaces neatly arranged. He leaned closer to the microphone.
“Call me annoying as you wish, but I don’t think you should be alone.”
Not looking at him, though, felt different. It felt a little bit as if he was in a divan in an analyst’s office, one of the dozens they had tried to make him go to in the past years. Walking in circles, it was as if he was searching literally around the room for the words to translate what he felt.
“I didn’t mean to kick you out, Yone. I know this is a jerk move. But I really should be alone. I actually have to.”
The answer was rather amused, though.
“Well, then you’re in the right place to be alone, right?”
While everything was an avalanche inside of Kayn, it was remarkable how clear Yone’s voice could be for him. It was as if he could hear a mockingbird sing in the middle of and earthquake. Trying to make sense out of that, Kayn frowned and looked around, coming to no conclusion at all.
“What do you fucking mean?”
Kayn would be able to listen to the smile in his voice.
“You’re in your studio. Take whatever it is you’re feeling and turn it into music.”
It took Kayn yet another moment.
“It’s not that simple, Yone.”
“Isn't it, really?”
Now the silence was longer. Actually, Kayn didn’t get to say anything for a long while. He looked around, at the shelves filled with vinyl records, music books, and inspirational memorabilia lining the walls. The copies of platinum records and posters from past performances were chosen by some interior designer Kayn didn’t know the name of, and actually haven’t even met. A beautiful set of guitars and electric guitars hanging in one of the walls, as if only because they are as aesthetically pleasing as a set of famous expensive paintings. Those drums sculpted in such shine he could see himself reflected on them, that big ass keyboard before a black wall unit filled with ridiculous amount of instruments.
“Maybe it is.” A lot after, Kayn answered, too late, too low. It was mostly to himself, although he was aware that Yone would be able to catch the sound signature of a pin dropping to the floor from where he was.
He cleaned his hands with a hand sanitizer and grabbed a water bottle from a minifridge, still looking unsure. Then, after a sigh so deep Yone could hear, from the wall, he picked an electric guitar and grabbed a stool, dragging it until he’s next to the center microphone.
Yone turned on the rest of the computers and the programs for the audio settings. Meanwhile Kayn fiddled a little bit, tuning the guitar, but after doing so, he just remained there, a look so locked in his face that it was clear that he wasn’t seeing much.
Then he started out a song. It was way too specific for it to just be a jam, yet Yone couldn’t recognize it.
“ Two sides to a story but they never tell my side. Never been the kinda guy to stay inside the guidelines. I know I'm the bad guy, I don't gotta ask why, if you try step to me, it'll be the last time. ”
The manager opened up his eyes really wide as he heard that. An image came to his mind in such high definition that it could be in front of him, and it was a handwritten note he had found in between Zed’s stuff.
Two sides to a story,
but they never tell my
side .
The Prodigal Explorer
03162010
That line was from a song, then. One they had written together, maybe? The underlined “side” in that. Obviously not coincidentally, but still weirdly cryptic, that was the name of the company they received a letter about, from a box that Ezreal and Kayn had shared. At the end, it was exactly the number of the box they were supposed to check and remove the contents in the following months.
That was already a lot to unpack.
But even something this important wasn’t as remarkable as what Yone was listening to right now.
Kayn had closed his eyes and he just let it out. The difference from when he’s forced to do something and when he’s just expressing himself is powerful.
Yone knew so much about what makes a song a genius work of art, what can be taught about harmony and precision. He is so well-versed in rhymes and poetry, his ears are trained so adequately to detect any mistake, yet…
It’s how raw Kayn truly is that makes him so astounding. It’s what’s so indulging in negating erudition, experimenting what art can truly make if he isn’t looking at it through an analytical or commercial lens.
So many times with Kayn it feels like he’s just learned how to feel something.
You don't understand the life we chose (on life support, life goes)
I need my silence, my privacy so I can heal
And even rockstars got feelings that they feel
In reality, this just repeats like a drill
That wasn’t a masterpiece, a marvel of a song. That was, instead, even better; so wholehearted that brought more emotion to Yone than any other Kayn song he’s ever listened to. Maybe it was the moment, the situation itself. Whatever it could be, it felt like Kayn was bared even more naked than he had ever been before him, and it speaks so much about how Kayn is feeling right now. It had so much potencial for it to be Kayn’s next big success if they only work on it.
Yet, it was surely something very delicate to work with.
And what if he tells Kayn about the letter they received from SIDE, about the shared box between him and Ezreal? He will have to do so, but when is it the right time? Should he go alone and figure this out, not to end up in a situation like the one Zed had described, with Kayn breaking down completely and losing his mind a little bit more?
But then, Kayn stopped singing, and in the silence it felt like betrayal to even think about it. The heavy breathing through the recordings told that it all demanded an effort from Kayn that went beyond just singing, which was something he could do for hours.
As the song ended, the dull quietness of the studio felt gigantic. Yone waited a little bit before expressing his honest awe.
“Kayn, this was absolutely amazing .”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
At that, Yone opened the recordings and saved it.
“Sure.”, he said, then picking a flash drive in his briefcase and inserting it in the the computer.
The singer just remained there, looking absolutely defeated. It didn’t look at all as if he’s just sung one of his best songs ever. He got up to put everything away, everything uncertain as if he doesn’t even know how to handle these instruments.
Meanwhile, Yone had a secret sample of that song with him, one he wouldn’t dare to share. The singer’s voice would be heard through the audio once more.
“I- I need a bath. Do you wanna go with me?”
It felt so weird for Kayn to be speaking like that to apparently nobody; it was something he’d do in a psychotic breakdown at most, of which he had had his share. Either that, or praying, which felt way less familiar.
“I would love to.” Yone answered, and Kayn didn’t say anything to the room itself anymore. He just left the studio to the anteroom to finally meet Yone again.
They didn’t share many words, but Kayn nodded out for the other to follow him. It was night already, and they were walking in the house with echo to their steps until reaching the master bedroom.
Not that Kayn cared much about sharing that silence, but even so he decided to put on some music as they arrived, walking to the jacuzzi bathtub that was still in the bedroom, near the windows. He opened them up for a bright moon, although always lacking stars as humans decided to create their own on the ground. Yone noticed that once more it was soft electronica playing; he wondered if Kayn was doing that over and over only to please him or what.
The answer wouldn't be satisfying, because Kayn himself didn't think it through as he did it, and he wouldn't be able to answer. Even he, though, would bet that he had just chosen what wouldn’t make anyone mad at that point.
They started undressing, lost in thought, even though they were actually both thinking about the song, in their own ways - Kayn about its unavoidable past, Yone about its possible future. Clothes off, Yone entered the bathtub, but Kayn didn't follow right after. Instead, he went to his nightstand to grab his kit and sat to roll them a joint.
So, he had just watched as Yone stepped in, trying to distract himself with how intoxicating every move of his was. The way the muscles of his back work, because he’s so outrageously perfect, the way his hair falls to his shoulders because he’s so absolutely flawless to look at. Kayn had always told himself that he was like a beautiful viper, poisonous beauty biting too deep to avoid inoculation. Something like l’appel du vide; seeing the depths caving in from heights and it’s drawing you closer, filling you with the desire to jump even when you’re not really willing to die from the fall.
He’s so beautiful it really makes Kayn want to wreck him to pieces. But he’s more than that, and that’s the tragedy of it all.
Yone laid on the bathtub and looked over his shoulder, casting him another unknowingly poisonous smile, and hurt trailed inside Kayn’s veins as the heat spread inside his chest.
He diverted his look to the joint he was rolling instead, thoughts scattering all around, what he hoped the marijuana would do with even more intensity.
Meanwhile, Yone allowed the warm water to embrace him, turning the hydromassage on and leaning the back of his head on the edge of the pool with a deep sigh. As he closed his eyes, he feared he would just fall asleep, bt at the same time, sort of hoped for it. He sighed deeply some times until the earthy scent took over his lungs and Kayn was standing beside the bathtub offering him a joint, hazed by that same whitish, herbal-scented mist he was puffing out.
He accepted it and took a hit. Kayn joined him in the square tub, and although there was enough space for at least four people comfortably, he didn’t allow much space in between them both, sitting right beside Yone, who, after breathing out the smoke, stretched an arm behind Kayn’s shoulders.
They smoked some more, and with each hit Kayn melted closer to Yone’s body. Yone found out that he had too many things to think about, and when they coexist like that, he could either panic or just empty out his head. Thankfully, he could play with Kayn’s colorful hair and it was enough to keep his attention all in one place.
“Why do you do this, Yone?”
It caught him off guard, and he didn’t understand it at all.
“Hm? Do what?”
Kayn took a deep breath.
“All this.” He gestured around. “ This . You were already a filthy rich kid, you didn’t need to be here, of all places. You chose L.A., Hollywood, all this shit.”
It took Yone some seconds, in which he almost forgot the question.
“I want something mine. Not only as in owning property, you know. Something to myself.”
“Power.”
Yone couldn’t help but snort.
“Yeah, if you put it this way. Sounds villanish.”
Kayn was smiling softly, although pensive.
“Do you see yourself as a villain?”
“There aren’t many villains in real life, but I’m not exactly a nice person.”
“That, you aren’t. But unfortunately it makes you so fucking sexy.”
At that, Yone just straight up laughed.
“You’d know. Your bad boy act is what makes you so irresistible.”
Kayn just scoffed.
“Everyone wants a bad boy until the boy is actually bad.”
“You have a point.”, Yone shrugged.
They remained in silence and forgot the questions at the same time that they etched themselves in their hearts.
“But again, Yone… why here, of all places? You’re talented enough a manipulator to be any other type of businessman, I'd say.”
A sigh before answering.
“It’s not like I could be too far away from music and all that. That was all I had to be excellent, and just did what I could with what I had. My parents might made have led the way but I took it to make something different. After Yasuo, I had all the expectations on me and if I didn’t break through that, they would suffocate me.”
“After who?”
Even with a dry mouth, Yone swallowed hard and looked away.
“Oh. I haven’t talked about him. Uh, hm. Yasuo is… he was my younger brother.”
It took Kayn a moment, an “oh” moment.
“I’m sorry.”
Kayn then turned his gaze to Yone. There was no pain in his features, no sorrow. There was only a cold and hoarse expressionlessness.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Kayn reiterated.
Eyes lost in their own haze, Yone pouted, thoughtful. Then, he let out a more whispered voice, clearing his throat.
" You’re not going to tell our father, right? I know I can count on you , or something like that, he had told me. He would leave home, around midnight, with my father's car keys in his hands. He was smiling, he wore a checkered flannel shirt under a heavy coat and his hair was in a high ponytail. No, I won’t, but it'll cost you , I replied. He called me a blackmailer and walked out laughing. At five fifteen in the morning, they called my dad. Car accident in the snow, driving drunk."
"And you always felt you were guilty of something in that."
"Maybe I was."
"You couldn’t have known."
Yone sighed yet once more. It was so weird that talking about something so hurtful could actually just feel liberating. Probably because that story has been living only inside his chest for all of the years he’s been in America.
"He was really talented, you know?" Yone's eyes were fixated on some point through the window in front of them, but it was clear he wasn't really looking at anything. "We both were raised in music, but I never had that gift . He, no, he was born for the keyboard. But he drank too much, even as a young teen, and was too rebellious and unstable. He drank, smoked weed, hung out with boys as well as girls – he hurt my parents a lot. They already took it out on me, but after he passed away, they took it even harder out on me."
"You needed to be not just as good as he was, but better."
Yone nodded and gave a very weak smile, pure resignation.
"Anyway, I was seventeen. It was enough time ago. Some things need to stay in the past."
"Certain things from our childhood will never fade, we can't just get over them."
Turning Yone leaned a little closer to Kayn and adjusted his legs. He let out some loose laughter.
“I completely dropped the mood, didn’t I?”
“Not really. I don’t really get sad with other people’s sad stories, I’d have too much on me to deal with already. I’m grateful for the trust, though, if that’s what it is. It looks like it’s the first time you talk about that in forever.”
Yone didn’t have brain processing power right now to think through too much without getting lost, so he held onto the last part.
“Yeah, it… it feels good, to be honest. But it feels whiny. I suppose your childhood was much worse than that."
"It’s not a competition, but it’s objectively hard to get much worse than my case without becoming a full-on sex trafficked kid."
Yone swallowed hard, too dizzy to make sense out of it, but maybe it didn’t matter.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
The sensation of having Yone in his arms felt itchy right now.
"Actually, no.”
“Are you sure?”
Suddenly, instead of feeling like they were venting, it felt for Kayn as if Yone was trying to use that to learn more about him. It made him answer as if in a knee-jerk reaction, one he would regret just after having said.
“Yes. I have more questions for you, though. How long has it been since you visited your parents? Or is it too hard to look at their faces after losing all your scruples and abandoning music to become a whore for the music industry?"
Yone narrowed his eyes and all his emotions twisted suddenly like a body taking a completely unexpected punch to the gut. Now having Kayn this close felt even more threatening, and he wanted to bottle it up back again.
“Yeah, I… I also don’t want to talk about that.”
A painful sigh from him cut through the apparent aggressive spite of the singer, dismaying his features and marking a frown on his forehead.
Instead of releasing the hug, what would be his instinct, he fought it through and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. His lips remained in Yone’s cheek during an entire sigh, and it was the time needed for all his emotions to spiral back again to a beautiful hue.
Close to his ear, then, Kayn confessed.
"You know, Yone, I’m in no place to say anything about you. All I call you is just a bit of what I am. Shame, guilt, distorted dreams, giant ego, inversion of values. Neither of us has the right to throw stones when we have both glass ceilings. We're more alike than we think or would like to admit."
A fragile sigh, and Yone felt his hand tremble in the urge to caress Kayn's skin, which he did.
"Maybe we are." Saying that was all he had to add.
“And you know what, fuck them. Fuck everyone in your way. That’s why we are here. Because we want to live forever even when we’re trying really hard to kill ourselves.”
That was the best thing Kayn could say out of the stream of thoughts that were doppling down his conscience.
It's because we don't want to die. We want to be famous to live forever because we want never to die but I cannot be an artist anymore because I want to die I don't want to be remembering everyone is going to be forgotten I make sure that I cannot look at them I cannot look at my fans anymore I kind of inspire them I'm detached from reality everyone's lost me and I cannot love myself so I don't think there's a way out of this, I don't think, I don't think I can… I can't imagine I had the entire world for me and yet I just wanted one person back. Maybe I just wanted to be loved and then I was and then I lost it and I cannot feel the type of love I wanted in the end it's all about us being abandoned and to cope with being famous is just being afraid of being dead we want us to be more than that we want to be more than our lives and then we cannot take our lives anymore.
But amidst all that, as it started overwhelming Kayn, even without being aware of that, Yone pulled him closer, again as if a drop of paint spread liquified all over a painfully white watercolor paper. The kisses they pressed all over each other’s skins had nothing of sexual at that point, but it was funny how easy it is to just forget you had been talking about the heaviest stories a moment ago.
When you have company or a distraction, at least. Kayn knew that by himself he would just as easily spiral down his worst nightmares. He could do it with most of the drugs he’s used and even so it was still better than being sober.
Still, he didn't want to be alone. Hands digging in wet long hair, he whispered against Yone’s lips.
“Would you sleep over?”
Yone knew there was a reason why he shouldn't, but he couldn't remember it right now, and he would make sure to forget.
Notes:
Imagine the song as something along the lines of:
https://youtu.be/iRv0hhiuxb4?si=yg23KZW0YNdgP2NQ
or
https://youtu.be/rj0NqI4t_Ns?si=LeNxbE8-giX8CfU1
See you soon! I hope you're all still following the story, I'm loving to share it with you. Thank you for commenting, the ones who do! It makes ALL the difference and it feels truly rewarding. See you soon!
Chapter Text
They kissed for as long as they could. And right there, like the first time, desire and curiosity, the will to please and also learn. Sharp and neat lines, drawing smoothly, slender. Lowering his head his mouth finally went under the line of Yone's collar and that felt exciting by itself, even if almost innocent. His hands slid on his shoulders and with precision he followed his bones. Kayn was really sensitive to touching, so he tried it, sliding his hands throughout Yone’s chest, feeling from the soft skin to the grazing of hair, touching with a feathery skim and increasing pressure until scratching over his ribs, watching closely.
To Yone it was quite useless to be holding his breath like he was doing now, and also helpless. He lifted his chin to breathe deep, his fingers closing on the colorful strands of Kayn's hair while he had his neck kissed hungrily. It truly felt like Kayn wanted to leave a mark, and while it was something he usually hated, right now he was just allowing room as his entire body shivered to the heightened sensation of the touch.
“It’s okay.” He hushed. “Don’t be afraid.”
Kayn wished to reply, to make sure Yone knows he wasn’t afraid of anything, but he didn’t quite know how to pretend anymore, and, if it takes too long, he’ll give himself away. So, silent, he gave up instead, laid his hands on Yone's thighs and slid them to his hips to hold him in place while everything inside him was screaming inside, scratching his throat, making his heart beat faster. Since when it was possible to feel the blood rushing on his face? Why were the palms of his hands so cold when he was aware of how feverish his entire body was? Why was everything so perfectly right and confusing at the same time? For a second he considered being sick; it would be better, having a virus spreading in his bloodstream, a terrible condition making him incapable of using his brain and his body, the most terrible, agonizing and confusing feeling that he ever experienced, and everything he’s been desperately looking for.
Feeling a bite, Yone gasped and thought in placing his hands on top of Kayn’s, but he really grabbed him, for one second fearing hurting himself or Kayn with his fingers from the strength he put on, so he released very quickly without knowing how to proceed. In fact his mind was really a complete blank space now, all that he could see, touch and smell was Kayn. All that he wanted was to be with him.
"Kayn...", he moaned his name and holding him firmly against his body he allowed Kayn to kneel between his legs. Then he grabbed Kayn's wrists and put his hands on his body again, searching for his lips for another kiss, doing everything to make clear how much he needed to keep going with him.
In between the kiss, Kayn moaned, grabbing his skin, digging fingers in such a flawlessly tidy hair to dishevel it, kissing him furiously, and way too fast he's consumed by desire; their hips are grinding, their bare torsos are one against the other, and he's groaning with each breath while their mouths are in that steaming hot and perfectly fit kiss. Meanwhile, Yone’s hand wandered throughout his body, trying to keep his mind in the right place, but it was so hard when he wanted so much, needed so much, and there wasn’t a single place that would satisfy him the most, not even actually having his hand between his legs.
“I’m not sure if I…” Kayn grunted in the middle of the kiss, because it would take some control that he doesn’t have right now to keep the concentration and a hard-on right now.
“I’m not expecting anything.” Yone answered, and by chance or design he had really met the meaning that Kayn had thought of conveying. He closed his eyes and skimmed his hands on Kayn's chest instead, immediately addicted to the pumping under his palm, as if it was the only throbbing that really mattered. To his lungs it came the heated air with the scent of Yone’s skin, his limbs shaking in a will to grab him and just do whatever it was he wanted to, whatever it was Yone wanted him to. His concern in himself not lasting much, in hurting Yone, in being invasive, aggressive, traumatizing... all those things vanished slowly in the dusk, leaving them soaring in one completely different dimension made of them both only.
"I want you so fucking bad, Yone…" The moment his eyes met Yone's, words died in his throat and he was helpless before the desperation in the dark eyes, the parted mouth, the bangs all disheveled. Suddenly both tenderness and the fiery desire took him over, and he was done, so done.
“And I want you, too.” One of his hands then went to his own crotch and he placed himself right, and his hips moved forward. Yone didn't know what was supposed to happen exactly, he did expected the pleasure but not that one that verged on the unbearable. The one they shared came in waves as hot and deadly as lava. If only their touches in bare skin already are able to make them blend their feelings, already makes the fusion of their sensations igniting all their pores, let alone now that their bodies are also together into one, what they were able to experience.
Kayn felt such anihilating pleasure that he really thought he had came already or something. Panting, diving into the surreal, Kayn didn't actually know if the melting, thawing sensation in his loins was that or not, he really didn't, and it made him want to laugh. Eagerly his eyes scrutinized every inch of Yone’s face as if the first and the last time. All Yone knew was that the craving inside him didn't soothe, it just increased and increased, and if he could go on, so he would, he would for as long as their bodies allowed it, until he ain't got a breath left in his lungs if that's what it takes.
“How do you want it? Faster? Still slow?", Kayn moaned back as he was swinging his body slowly, back and forth.
The breathes Yone were letting out were loud, almost moaned in the end. The chills were running up and down his body and he was catching his breath each time he was hit deep. It was with a hiccup that his mind goes blank for a second and he really thought he couldn't be dazzled or surprised about anything anymore, now he really thought, yet there he was, stunned, having his breath taken away in each shove.
"Not faster..." He breathed in and out, rolling his eyes, sliding his hands on his back, feeling his thorax expand with each breath. " Harder . I can take you, give it to me.”
With that, Kayn not just moaned, he growled loud, shutting his eyes for one second and digging his fingertips on Yone's shoulders, so he could move still slowly, but harder like he wanted. His mouth was open all the time, impossible to keep his moans to himself, and it felt so damn good. He moaned his name until lost the count and when he wasn’t doing it, he was biting or licking Yone's ear, stopping thinking of his own pleasure to pay attention to Yone’s reactions, so he could do again that thing or the other that make him moan louder. Waving his hips back and forth, Kayn watched entranced that man in front of him sob and tremble, he felt him surrendered to all the sinful and heavenly sensations that went way beyond any ability of reasoning. Kayn kissed him over and over on his neck and jaw as their bodies swayed back and forth together. When he thought that the sensation of that dream they had couldn't get any better, it was now a shadow from the blinding light they were experiencing.
On his turn, right now Yone didn't have a clue on how his head could be spinning like that, when his body was deliciously pressed against marble. The huge mess that his mind was now also seemed to fog with the heat and it was agonizing, but then he focused on the sensation of Kayn through his skin and it seemed right, then above everything the pleasure increased. Yone wanted to move his body along, but he was afraid to make Kayn lose the pace or slip out and he couldn't even conceive the idea, so he only keep spreading his thighs to welcome his thrusts, sobbing at the amazing feeling to have that hardness inside him, Kayn inside of him.
"Yes-s, Ka-yn..." He shut his eyes and whined, voice trembling, always out of breath. He tried to match his respiration with the repeated shoving, but soon he couldn't and it would start making him sob. And moan. Louder. And louder. That was an impossible pleasure to feel and his body was just responding. By then, the moans were escaping Yone's throat like Kayn was fucking them out of him. His lungs were burning, his brain went berserk and he was completely out of his mind and out of control. His legs were bent on the sides of his body and his expression was like pure despair. He pressed his head against the pillow and lifted his hand to the metal grids on the headboard of the bed. Things were a blur between his half-closed eyelids, or recently open with wide pupils.
"Oh, my God, Kayn!" a clench of teeth, "Fuck, oh, God, fuck!" He growled, scratching his throat, rolling his eyes.
"Do you like it? Tell me, do you like this way?"
The look in Yone's face could be mistaken for pain as he tried to focus on Kayn's face with his eyebrows in angle and his mouth parted. It was already hard enough to do it, and he remained with his mouth open like trying to say something and too confused, too stunted to do it. Yone loosened the grip on the bed and glanced at his hands with a surprised, overjoyed laughter, though it twisted in the next shove.
"Yes...?" He whined, and the interrogation tone was because he wasn't really sure of the question to begin with. "I- I do, I-..." He was out of voice, just scratching in his throat, and bit his lower lip, grabbing his own hair. "Yes, Kayn, yes, yes, yes-s..." He hissed under his teeth. His cheeks were flushed, his chest was going up and down forcefully, as he panted and exhaled until the last blow that was inside his lungs while being ravished like that by Kayn's merciless thrusts. When he said he could take it, he imagined the pain, and he really was able to. Now he was unable to deal with his own shivering body, his will to scream, the heat of pleasure in waves greater and greater, in shorter and shorter gaps. His cock was wet and so hard he would feel the throb if he could tell the difference of what was going on in loins. Everything was numb, and everything was too sensitive.
Reaching out for Kayn's shoulders, one hand hooking on his nape to bring him closer, Yone kissed him on the lips, hungrily, clumsily, what could be done in between panting and moaning, but definitely intense, and definitely passionate. Kayn kissed him back with the same passion, the same desperate will.
There was barely any voice in Yone’s throat and now he was just grabbing everywhere while his mouth was open and he could as well be fighting for air. That was so absurdly obscene and he was welcoming it, not like breaking down walls, but as in watching all the nastiness and filthiness overflow silently, flooding him entirely, something that whispered softly in his ear, like running his hands in black satin, like tasting a candy with hot spice. He stared at Kayn's maddened expression with a dying laughter on his lungs, and he got to twist his mouth in a smile or to cough something alike laughter, but in the next moment he would be biting his own fist or Kayn’s shoulder.
It wouldn't take that sentence for him to be in the same edging state, and when he said it, Yone was just entering in a dazed moment way harder than any other that were already baffling him. The pleasure started spreading through his legs and his loins, making him curl his fingers and toes, contracting his belly. His body was convulsing, each puffing breath loud. He moaned as the spurts of pearly stained his belly, not as much as the first time, even though what he was feeling was definitely stronger than the first time. It didn't last only a moment, it dragged for more seconds than his mind was able to cope. He knew that an orgasm while on marijuana was undoubtly more intense when achieved, but that was out of this world.
"My God, oh, my God." He was panting, his heart throbbing, some spasms still taking his body, specially because Kayn kept on fucking him all that time and on and on. He loosened the grip on the edge of the bathtub and his arms fell. His body was still being pushed and pushed and Kayn's moans were something far away, like he was diving, and indeed his head was light like he was floating. Kayn fucking him still to numbness intercut the laughter that he wanted to let out, but the drowsy smile was there.
It was ridiculous, that feeling. Everything single feeling, on his skin, in his veins, in his mind. Jesus, what the hell was that? Kayn threw his head back and moaned loud as he could, not thinking in anything that wasn't Yone's presence under him. Yone losing control was so pretty, he was so, so pretty, and he feels so good while he’s like that.
It was the one moment that Kayn allowed himself to stop doubting Yone. He considered, what if… what if they were allowed to feel what they feel? What if they are truly on the same page and right there was all that he could feel… what if he deserved it, or what if he accepts it, even underserving? His throat felt tight and all that could be read in his mind back would be the same scattered words, calling out for a God he could never believe in and cursing in every language he knew.
What if the worst person he knows is exactly who could heal him, not in spite of that, but because?
" So. Fucking. Perfect .", each word was a latter thrust before he finally stopped, so deep inside him, rolling his hips few times like to finish it. Breathing hard and fast, Kayn felt dizziness and chuckled, because it wasn't only the afterglow. God, he felt like his brain and his lungs were without oxygen, so he tried to control his breath even with his chest burning.
"Are you...? Are you okay?", the hand holding the sheets slipped back to Yone's hair, but it was only a touch this time. He didn't had strength not even to stroke him now and that was making him grin lazily.
Yone chuckled, taking his trembling arms to around Kayn, embracing him softly, their sweaty skins sliding in one another. He wasn't literally as exhausted as he felt, and that was quite wonderful. He was really so overwhelmed with everything that he could positively say that he doesn't have the strength to get up. And, well, being incapacitated like that would be pretty much the sweetest defeat of his life. His skin was still tingling, his body, ahem, say adjusting again after being almost violently fucked open.
"That was... that was amazing, Kayn. Fuck." He was still too open-hearted to hold back his thoughts, but even when he said he didn't regret it. It was the truth, after all. Although he was pretty sure that "amazing" was too puny a word to describe it.
They were really something else together, weren't they?
“Don’t leave. Stay here.” He said, embracing Kayn with trembly arms. "Don't take it off yet...", he whispered breathless to him, trying to hug him tighter, but without strength. His eyes were closed and his head lighter than air. In an unexpected way, his heart beat faster until it hurt him, but all that he wanted to do was to laugh at it. Even dim light felt blinding when he opened his eyes, and, blinking slowly, Yone sighed and kissed Kayn's neck. Slowly he felt his body returning to normal and not anymore the one mess of sensations of a moment ago, making him wonder for how long they were there without saying a word, just clung to each other. He told himself he did so because he didn’t want Kayn to regret what they did, but if he’s honest, he could remain there forever.
During all his afterglow, Kayn held Yone close, still inside him, barely moving at all. He pressed his lips on Yone's hair and remained there, his breath going back to regular pace after he felt like his lungs could explode. It wasn't tiring, yet it always wore him out, it was meant for his heart to race and his blood pressure to rise.
He held a long gaze through the window as if like there was something to be seen; like the constelatted night lights could tell him something about normality, about basic, about boring. Anything that strong can be used for many means. It can create moments so powerful and also destroy everything on its path.
Very soon, they were exhausted. Enough to forget about a proper shower or about much more than just getting out and drying themselves with the nearest towels, with not much more than “we should get some sleep” that could have come from one or the other. Thankfully they were too sleepy, enough for none of those feelings to be revisited by neither of them, good or bad, if there was such thing right now. Kayn wouldn’t even think anything bad of how violent he may think he’s been, and Yone wouldn’t muse too much about how much of an actual careful lover there could be inside of Kayn. They fell naked together in Kayn’s bed and snuggled closer, falling asleep fast enough.
***
As Yone’s eyes flashed open, the last night came tumbling down in his perception, a ride in a really convoluted train of thoughts. While he heard an electronic ring in his ears, even more irritating than it should have been, everything came to his senses. The last day, Kayn had fucked his brains out once, tried to push him away, showed him a wonderful song, they got completely baked and they fucked like animals – or worse, like lovers – once more before falling asleep together. They did all that and he’s loved every bit of it; now Kayn was cuddling with him, clung to his back, what for somme reason still allowed him to have a wonderful and needed night of sleep. The annoying sound that brough him unwillingly to consciousness was his fucking phone ringing, and he knew he had to get it.
Still, Yone just groaned and rubbed his eyes, sighing, hoping that the phone would just stop ringing once and for all, but it didn’t, and even Kayn was waking up with a grunt. As the singer stretched his arms, Yone had room to disentagle from them and crawl on the bed to his briefcase near the nightstand.
Also lost in dizziness, half-conscious, Kayn allowed the memories of the last night to settle as he watched Yone searching for his phone; and, as Yone found it, it was a bit amusing to see him sighing, rolling his eyes and clearing his throat before answering.
“Good morning, Evelynn.” He had a serious voice.
Kayn heard Evelynn on the line answer something incomprehensible and gave a sardonic smile.
“Yone, the water in the bathtub is going to get cold, I can’t wait all day.”
The manager gestured for Kayn to shut up and the singer just laughed.
“After lunch? I'm busy. Is there no way to schedule it for later?” He replied to something said with the serious voice of someone who was actually at an office appointment.
“Yone, you shouldn’t answer the phone after snorting coke, your bosses will notice.” Kayn spoke again, his voice almost singsong. The manager covered his mouth with his hand and answered Evelynn again.
Between muffled laughs, the singer bit the other's hand, making him pull it and having to hide the groan of pain he wanted to give. Evelynn was saying something on the phone, but Yone was busy silently telling Kayn off, formulating the words without making a sound.
“Where do you want to meet me?” Yone answered the phone after a series of sentences he hadn't even paid attention to, getting farther away from Kayn on the huge bed and covering the mouthpiece before Kayn ruins everything. “Okay, but is it just you or will there be someone else?”
Yone sat on the edge of Kayn's bed and turned his attention back to what Evelynn was saying on the other line.
He sat on the edge of the bed and his voice wanted to melt when Kayn began to massage his shoulders. He tried to find a way to turn off the phone immediately.
“You’re terrible, you know that?” Yone sighed as he put his cell phone back in his pocket. Kayn ran his hand over his shoulders and slid it along his chest.
“Do you have a lunch meeting? There’s plenty of time for a lot of things.” Kayn whispered into Yone's ear, pressing a soft lip on the other's neck.
“What do you have in mind?” Yone ended up smiling. Any suggestion would sound appealing, but the one that came was the best in all of them.
“I I want you to help me out with something from the song I showed you yesterday.”
***
When Yone entered the cigar shop, his eyes were soothed by the wooden tones of the establishment, just as his sigh was taken by the smell of tobacco and coffee. He was guided to the restricted areas where he had already been awaited. Three women were sitting on the cocoa brown armchairs. A cigar rested lit in Evelynn's left hand; Akali at her side just intertwined her fingers over her legs. To his surprise, Samira, the photographer, sat there along with the other two. She had a cigar between her lips and was lighting it herself, twirling it slowly. She wore a band T-shirt under a maroon formal blazer and on her lap there was the black bag, which Yone knew held her beloved camera and lenses.
“Good afternoon Yone. It’s been a while.” Samira referred to him as soon as she saw the brunette approaching. He smiled weakly. "You look tired."
“It’s always lovely to see you, Samira. And yes, I kind of am.” Yone returned the greeting with kindness and saved the harsh words for Evelynn and Akali. “I’m working fifteen, sixteen hours a day and I still don’t have time for much. So I hope this is really important.”
He sat in an armchair next to Akali. She, in turn, turned her body towards him and held on him a challenging stare.
“Oh yeah, Yone? If you know what it’s like to have a busy schedule, why do you insist on ruining other people’s work?”
He knew what it was about, but still wouldn’t give it away. Making her confess her thoughts would be a better move.
“Ruin? What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb, Yone. I thought you were supposed to be Kayn’s manager, but you also have to rub your music diplomas in our things."
“When did I do it?” He tilted his head, and Akali scoffed.
“So do you want me to believe you are taking Kayn to the meetings out of the innocence of your heart, because you don’t know any better?”
“Are you really angry about me taking Kayn to a meeting to discuss his album?”
“This isn't for him, Yone. Later, when we define the lyrics, tones and measures, then he can participate.”
Evelynn and Samira watched the two's succinct fight in silence. They drew their cigars and Yone replied.
“You’ve got to be kidding me, Akali. He went to an unbearably boring meeting of his own free will.” Yone listed the items he mentioned in his hand. “He wasn’t arrogant, he wasn’t aggressive, he wasn’t spoiled.”
“Yone, Kayn was supposed to be shooting a fucking video! That was his job, and he fucking kicked a camera like three days ago! Believe me, I’d love to work with him properly again, but is this the guy you’re betting on? This is the person you want in board meetings with people from the records?”
“He’s becoming interested again and that’s exactly why he couldn’t shoot the video. We can only go as far with having our hands up his ass to play him like a muppet. We thought everything would be a fiasco after that tour, we thought he had lost the desire to play for good. But no, he can enjoy it all again. So if I need to get into every meeting between the two of you to make him feel like he's part of the song's production, I'll do it. It’s better than trying to coerce you into being a good artist, the way I started out doing it.”
“You really are very pedantic, Yone. Just because your glass ceiling is shielded by K’Sante.” Akali crossed her arms. “I have always supported the fact that Kayn can change, that he is a person with his ups and downs. But even if we could agree that he has changed, but I don't want it interfering with my work. Kayn is a pop singer, not a hippie who writes songs on a napkin in the middle of the boardwalk. And the guys in the band are not his friends, partners who want to discuss the emotional value of music; they are hired to do a job, and by me .”
“You’re acting weird, Yone.” Evelynn finally spoke up, and the smile on her lips was deadly. “I understand your reasons; but if we were to continue with this type of conversation, we would have left Kayn in the care of Zed. You see, if I didn't know you, I'd say you're getting soft.”
Her eyes were hundreds of times more accusing than her words. Accusing him personally, individually.
So Yone leaned back, resting his back on the backrest of the armchair.
“Why am I feeling like I’ve been invited for some kind of trial here?” The manager voice was carefree and she pointed to Samira at his side. “And what does Samira here have to do with you girls wanting my head?”
“We don’t want your head, Yone. You are being asked to prove that you still have your priorities straight.” Evelynn’s gestured to Samira, her stiletto nails drawing a sharp arch in thin air as if they could scratch it. “That’s why Samira is here.”
Samira handed Yone a folder, while Evelynn placed her sentry gaze on him. She smoked again.
“You must already know about these photos, don’t you?” Samira had a low, guttural voice, which came out amidst the cigar smoke. Yone took the papers out and saw the photos of him and Kayn on the street. They were almost the same ones K’Sante had shown him.
“Did you want Kayn to stay locked in the house?” Yone almost snorted. “I was just keeping him company.”
“Gossip regarding what happened in the studio will end very soon. Nobody cares that much but our investors. But this, the bad concerts, combined with rumors of Kayn using drugs and all his aggressive behavior, is creating disaffection. Evelynn suggested we create an idea of stability.” Samira explained.
“Samira here will be our official photographer, and will make a point of spreading the news online and through the media.” Evelynn raised his eyebrows. “The task is quite simple: Find Shieda Kayn a girlfriend. ”
Yone only snorted, as if he really couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“What? Are you fucking kidding me? Have you two not listened to a single word I said? He is sick and tired of being controlled like that, how do you think Kayn is going to react if I try to decide even the person he dates?”
“This really isn’t my problem. You’re charming, I’m sure you can make it interesting for him. He had already fallen for your charm, hasn’t he? I’m sure you already have him wrapped around your finger, because that’s your best talent.”
Evelynn held the stare and she was way more poignant than Yone could dream to be. He felt like she could bare him naked and see through his make up every hickie that Kayn had left on his neck the day before. He couldn’t help but swallow hard, and Evelynn glanced at it to make Yone sure that she noticed.
“This is insane. Why would you want this right now? We have so many more important things to work with.”
“I feel like you’re straying, Yone. So this request of mine is just for me to see something. Of course I can’t force you, and you know your priorities. You decide what you want to do.” Evelynn sentenced, her voice an uncanny mix of a seductive whisper and a ruthless accusation. “But whatever it is that you choose to do with this request, it will allow me to know your priorities as well. Take a look at the end of the folder you have on your lap. There there are three invitations for the Charity Ball at the High Moon Country Club that will happen tomorrow. I’m sure you can find a way to convince Kayn to go, and you must know someone who would be a nice pair with Kayn, even if only a date for the night.” She leaned back, sneering. “I’m dying to see what you’ll do with this.”
Chapter Text
The driver opened the door of the sleek black limousine and several flashes blinded Kayn for a moment, but it really wasn't anything he wasn't used to. The singer stepped out of the vehicle, lifted his gaze, and waved with a crooked grin at the small crowd gathered at the entrance of the event. It was just a charity dinner, but it was enough to draw a horde of onlookers, well-informed fans, reporters and paparazzi. Kayn put his hands in the pockets of his slim-fit dress pants and ignored the flashes and the incessant calls for his attention. He didn't stop for photos; he turned his gaze to the main door and kept walking.
Reaching the grand entrance of the venue, Kayn pauses momentarily, taking in the opulent decorations and the fact that he would have to face that night. The doors are opened by uniformed attendants, and as the singer steps inside, the ambiance shifts from the electrifying buzz of the outside crowd to the refined murmur of distinguished guests. Crystal chandeliers hang from a high, vaulted ceiling, casting a warm, golden glow over the room, a cascade of twinkling lights, lush floral arrangements, and an impressive ice sculpture centerpiece. Tables draped in rich velvet cloths are adorned with elegant centerpieces and waitstaff circulate with trays of delicate hors d'oeuvres and sparkling champagne.
What the fuck am I even doing here , is what takes place in Kayn’s mind as he is approached by the smiling woman in gown from the staff, responsible for guiding him to his table. As he makes his way through the room, accompanying the woman through the tables surrounded by influential figures and self-called philanthropists. His presence brings in attention, and the exchange of pleasantries between attendees absolutely infuriates him. He wished he were at the very least on some Buspirone as he heard that well-known polite laughter mingling with the soft strains of live classical music and every gesture, every smile he sees is crafted in their polished demeanor.
Finally he can see the table full of almost everyone he hated, but at least he wouldn’t see Evelynn or he’d give his back and leave before even sitting down. Yone was seated at a round table in front of K'Sante and his wife and also Akali with her own spouse, Kai’Sa; and between them another couple of interest to K'Sante and disinterest of Yone.
The manager had a martini glass in front of him and couldn't take his eyes off his watch. Then a murmur suddenly spread throughout the hall, and he glanced at the entrance door. Kayn was coming in, sporting an impeccable outfit. The see-through silk chiffon black shirt fit his body perfectly, the black handmade embroidery bringing that sophistication able to counter the provocative decision of wearing something almost transparent and with more open buttons than formal attire would recommend. His hair was taken care of as the colors of the pink and purple dyes were even brighter. It fit him, every slim-fitting fabric, every one of his necklaces, rings and bracelets, and Yone had a hard time not allowing his glance to linger a little bit more.
When he turned his gaze back to his table, K'Sante was watching him. He raised his eyebrows as if making a subtle remark; he had noticed. He averted his gaze from Yone and returned to appearing completely indifferent, something he did quite well.
Kayn didn’t notice any of that, since he had turned to pick a martini glass from a waiter’s tray, as if he couldn’t care less about etiquette - which he really didn’t. He then stopped beside the table, and the only smile that didn't hurt him was Yone's. He extended his hand to everyone and greeted them politely, then sat next to Yone as if the choice of seat was casual. As if he hadn’t noticed Yone’s beautiful earrings and charming wide-sleeved shirt and how well all-black attire suits him. It’s not how he likes him best – his favorite Yone isn’t wearing make up, he actually has his not wearing anything at all, and he’s not all tidy and neat, but actually a disheveled sweaty mess – but it’s undeniable that he’s a sight.
"You'll pay dearly for bringing me here." He said, while leaving his glass on the table in front of him.
"If anything, think of the children, Kayn," Yone appealed to the dinner's theme. "I know it's forced, but think about it, if it helps."
"Fuck off. I’m was in debt with you for screwing everything up in the middle of shooting, that’s the only reason I’m here. If we gathered the price of everyone's suits here, it would equal the GDP of an African country. This is the worst thing ever." Kayn leaned back in his chair and forced a smile at a famous actress walking between the tables. It was an exaggeration, but it made Yone let out a cynical snort.
“Thank you for coming. Like I said, it’s mostly to appease them."
By them , Kayn knew already, he meant K’Sante and Evelynn.
"Whatever you say. We’re even now." Kayn held the glass, held the olives by the silver stick that was through it and downed its content in one gulp.
“It’s boring, I’d know, but it’s going to be over soon. After the auctions it’s all mostly over, they will be happy and we’re good to go.”
“Boring is an understatement, and you know how much I hate being bored. I’m looking forward to giving head in one of those fancy bathrooms.”
Yone snorted from the laughter he wasn’t able to hold back, and glanced away.
“You’re crazy.”
“You’ve said that already, and you still stick with me. It’s what makes me charming and you fell for it.”
“Just behave, will you?”
“Of course, daddy.”
They were whispering to each other, leaning in closer.
He was smirking, Kayn was smirking.
Akali was seeing it. K’Sante was seeing it. Samira, somewhere, was also surely seeing it.
After Kayn's statement, the two fell silent for several minutes. Yone's gaze was fixed on the stem of his drink glass, but his mind was far away. The music changed, and Kayn forced himself to talk to someone; he found himself talking to Kai’Sa, who was beside him, feeling a certain sympathy for her. Soon the conversation died, and he turned his attention back to Yone. The manager man was drumming his fingers on the table, the same look of concern on his face.
"I'm the one who's supposed to be bothered." Kayn's voice snapped Yone back to reality.
"Sorry?" Yone turned to him with a bit of surprise.
"What are you worried about?"
The question tightened around Yone's neck.
"Nothing. I'm..." He looked up at Kayn and couldn't properly say anything. “I also just want this night to be over.”
“Oh, so the blue blood heir who used to deal so well with all this boring shit is also annoyed? I’m getting to you, huh?”
You have no idea, Yone thought before he could help it.
Kayn lowered his hand discreetly and caressed Yone's knee for a few seconds, so subtly that no one noticed. Only Yone felt it almost burn his skin.
***
An hour later, most of the guests were standing, and so was basically everyone from the table. They were talking, negotiating, and walking around in search of the best opportunities for dialogue. Kayn was beginning to consider drinking more, but the place was so crowded with important figures that he knew a fiasco would be especially tragic, so he sucked it up and mostly talked to Kai’Sa after Yone was gone for some reason.
The grand ballroom is alive with anticipation as the charity auction begins. At the front of the room, a stage is set up with a podium and a large screen displaying images of the items up for bid. The auctioneer, a charismatic man with a commanding presence, takes the stage and welcomes everyone with a warm smile and a few light-hearted jokes, setting a convivial tone for the evening. The first item is presented — a piece of artwork donated by a probably renowned artist. The room falls silent as the auctioneer begins the bidding, his voice rising and falling in rhythmic cadence.
When Kayn spotted Yone once more, he was walking calmly beside an astonishingly beautiful woman, someone who would catch attention wherever she might go; quite a breathtaking pair, having Yone and her side by side like that. She wore a blue and white gown that drew the shape of her slender body and had her blond bleached hair styled elegantly in an updo. Her image rang a bell, but he couldn't put a finger on where he had seen her; could it be from a K-Pop group?
Amid Yone's smooth words, the two stopped in front of Kayn.
"Kayn, this is Ahri." Kayn greeted her gently as Yone finished introducing her. He missed some of the rest of the introduction, but he understood she was a top model. He had probably seen her in a magazine or a billboard around town.
"Good evening, Kayn," she replied softly. "It's a great pleasure. I really love your music.”
They continued exchanging small talk; Yone only noticed she was really nervous when he saw her hand tremble while holding a champagne glass, a detail she corrected by resting it in her other palm delicately. It would probably be quite easy. Kayn asked some questions and was as amiable as he had been lately.
The three talked for a some time until the conversation is well-set. Yone did it the way he knows how and, taking a cue, excused himself and left. He went to the restroom, walking as if he had a ball and chain attached to his legs and trying not to look back.
Once he opened the door and it closed behind him, all the sounds from the outside were muffled and he had soft ambience music instead. He was inside another marbled wonder with walls clad in rich, dark wood paneling with accents of brushed gold, as well as subtle, ambient lighting coming from other two chandeliers casting a warm glow. There were just two other men inside, one washing his hand and another coming out of a stall; and yet it felt crowded. He wanted to throw some water on his face, but he had some make up on, so he just wet his nape a little bit, staring at his own reflection.
Why do I care? , he’d think and then shake his head. Why does it even matter? He was fighting very hard every thought. He hated it that he was playing their game. He hated K’Sante’s surveillance and Akali’s judgement. And he isn’t used to hate . He’s not used to feeling angry , and it made him feel pathetic and childish. He wondered if that was the feeling a kid would have when their favorite toy is given to someone else, but he wouldn’t know. His idea of fun surely met Kayn on the way, but he doesn’t remember his toys if he had ever had those. Staring at his reflection felt like talking to someone he’s trying to avoid, so he gave his back and went to a toilet stall and when he went out, he washed his hands looking at the porcelain sink only and just left.
Getting out, he accepted a champagne glass, and barely noticed when it was empty a moment later. He came back to where Ahri and Kayn were talking, but didn’t approach. Yet, Kayn saw him. And as he did, he gave Yone a confused, slightly helpless look, as if secretly seeking instruction. He didn't want to be rude, didn't want to ruin anything for Yone, but also didn't know what was expected of him. There was never a safe move when one was as famous as he was.
That look hit Yone hard. The manager man approached Ahri and Kayn again, got in the conversation and then gently called the singer, and asked for a moment. Kayn followed him until they were far enough from the model.
"You know, Kayn, forget this." Yone frowned and put his hands on his waist. "You’re free to do something you want, or even leave if you prefer."
"What are you even talking about?"
Yone put his hands on his hips and swallowed hard, saying nothing. The realization dawned on Kayn and he laughed once.
"Oh, of course! How did I not realize? She’s supposed to be my date! They also gave you this task, just like they did with Zed."
Kayn kept on the ironic expression as if he could wield it like a shield. He knew very well why he hadn't realized it; it was because he would never think that Yone would suggest such a thing. But now, he just stared at his manager’s troubled expression, and that really disturbed him.
"I was just giving them something to entertain themselves. You have the right to be with whoever you want and enough is enough. I can't do this to you." Yone glanced at Ahri, who was exchanging words with Akali now.
But Kayn narrowed his eyes.
"Can't, or won't?"
Yone shot him a direct look, like a bullet.
"Does it matter to you?"
Kayn felt a tightness in his chest, and if he could define it, he'd say his heart raced for a few moments.
"Well, Yone, we're not exclusive, are we? Even more considering the conveniences." Kayn answered in such a relaxed tone that the exaggeration was evident. "You have K'Sante, and she's very beautiful and charming as-"
"I'm not with K'Sante anymore." Yone interrupted him.
"What?" Kayn retorted and frowned.
"Well, I won’t be. I’m going to break up with him tomorrow night. His wife is traveling in the morning and we have a meeting."
"And can you even do that?"
"I have K'Sante in my hand with some contracts."
"Even worse. K'Sante mad at anyone is very dangerous."
"I know."
"Wouldn't it be easier to just continue? Why do you need to break up with him?"
Yone then just gave a crooked smile.
"You're the one asking silly questions now."
Kayn took a step back as if he had been struck by something. He took advantage of it and moved back a little more.
"Well, Yone... that's a shame." Kayn shrugged. "I really liked the model you introduced me to, and, if you excuse me, I'm going back to continue our conversation."
Kayn walked away and returned to beside Ahri.
"All right, Kayn." Yone said after he had already left, and gave his back. He put his hands in his pockets and thought it was only fair, so he moved away and watched Kayn from a distance.
He ate something to get rid of the bitter taste in his mouth. He stood before the cold buffet, running his eyes over the abundant colors of the food, the undefined shine of the trays, and everything mixed in his mind, with the sound of the announcements of the charity auction that followed.
He felt a gentle hand on his back, and as he turned, he saw it was Akali. He kept the same impassive expression.
"Congratulations, Yone." The producer’s voice was more decorative than truly congratulatory. "You really was able to find someone high-level for our pop star in such short notice.”
"Yeah." Yone just responded. "Did you at least manage to get Samira in here?"
"Yes, but I've only seen her once. She's as discreet as a cat, isn't she?"
"Quite."
Akali also looked at Ahri and Kayn chatting amicably.
"How did you arrange it with Ahri?"
"I didn't arrange anything. Authenticity is better; also I don't trust these models' ability to keep secrets. I just introduced them."
Akali lifted her brows.
"No deal at all? Do you really think Kayn could manage to maintain a decent and genuine relationship?"
"No, Akali, he couldn't. He's going to hit her on the head with a club and drag her by her hair to a cave." Yone's voice was filled with acidic sarcasm.
"I'm asking if you think you can hide from Ahri that the superstar she's with has fits of rage, snorts cocaine and enjoys having sex with people he works with."
Yone was mostly thinking that Kayn was actually doing really well and on his tracks to getting better. He's been doing really well without cocaine these days, and maybe he really wasn't addicted, as he had said. He's there, being polite, and he's making Ahri laugh and smile as they talk.
"There’s no need to hide anything. This will all blow over eventually. And he does like women, so if it works out it's on them and I believe it can be sorted out."
Eventually, then, Akali shrugged.
"Celebrity relationships don't last anyway, if they work out at all to begin with. There's no point in making long-term plans."
Yone diverted his gaze to the two talking on the other side of the room. Kayn had a smile on his face, and Ahri was laughing while touching his arm.
"Even so."
"Aren't you going to boast to me, as you always do?"
"Whatever, Akali. Mind your own business, and I'll take care of mine and Kayn's."
Akali said something else, but Kayn and Ahri had moved away from the crowd to talk in a more secluded spot, and Yone kept his attention on them. The producer noticed he was no longer paying attention to her, sighed, and walked away, returning to her wife’s company.
Yone found a place to sit where he wouldn't have to face K'Sante and wouldn't see Kayn and Ahri, but near enough that he could notice if they left.
What he really wanted was to go home, but he had to stay there, reaping what he sowed.
Chapter Text
The waves were stronger that day; perhaps a storm was approaching. Yone's keen ear didn't miss changes in such patterns.
It was a Saturday morning when he decided to take the day off. It was not like he officially worked on weekends, but also there weren't really many weekends he’d spent without working. But he had a lot to deal with that night with K'Sante, and he almost dreaded what that meant.
Beyond that, the event last night had been a huge success. Kayn had said goodbye to Ahri with a gentle kiss on her lips, and the more fanatical media had already caught wind of it that very night, even though there were supposedly no paparazzi at the party — or so they thought. Afterwards, Kayn simply left for his house without property saying goodbye to anyone else. Yone had seen it, and it was finally his cue to leave that place once and for all.
The sound of the sea in front of his house washed over his bedroom. He was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, contemplating the idea of putting something interesting up there, something that would make the time he spent staring at it worthwhile. He had only fallen asleep at four because he took his medication, but he woke up at ten in the morning, and there he was, groggy and helpless.
He got up and realized he couldn't think of anything to do besides work. He took a long shower, did skin and hair care, put on sweatpants and a T-shirt, and looked at the beach through the window, considering even taking a swim. He considered many things that morning, especially calling Kayn, as he always did, but he didn't do many of them. He went through the whole process of brewing a really special mug of coffee and bought a Kubrick movie online; he hadn't seen "Eyes Wide Shut" yet. He put it on his TV and had his laptop on his lap; he spent so much time hunting for news about Kayn while sipping his coffee that he barely paid attention to the movie, bored enough of freaky shows as it is.
He soon found a photo of Kayn and Ahri. Had that kiss happened too quickly? Maybe; but it had been so beautiful to the eyes and merely gentle that it was nothing more than enchanting to many, almost innocent. He had probably asked for the kiss, because she also leaned in, but mostly inclined her torso instead of stepping forward, what would be expected of a kiss where both just inch closer to each other naturally. Still, it shouldn't matter, and he was just putting too much thought into it. There were also some fans upset because they didn't like seeing their favorite singer with any woman; there always were, nasty enough to be ironically misogynistic. It was eleven in the morning, and that news had already caused a stir within the fandom.
"Take that, Evelynn." He grinned to himself and convinced himself he had done a good job, closing his laptop.
As always, Yone assured himself as he got out of bed. He received a work call, resolved it in half an hour, then poured himself some brandy and thought about reading that William Blake book he had started a long time ago.
He had read fifty pages and understood nothing when he finally started to feel hungry. It was near one in the afternoon. He then thought about cooking something for himself and left the misunderstood book on the coffee table.
He had all the ingredients ready on the counter when his phone rang for the second time; he was even surprised it hadn't happened more times. He was, however, surprised to see it was Kayn's number.
"Hey, Kayn?" He answered simply. Secretly, he was expecting bad news.
"Have you had lunch yet?"
"I was just starting to prepare something..." Yone frowned. "Why?"
"Open your front door."
"What are you...?" But Kayn had already hung up.
Yone turned off the stove and hurried. He couldn't imagine what it could be, but as soon as he opened the front door and the gate, it took him a while to absorb what he was seeing and even to recognize. It was a man with long black hair tied in a ponytail. He wore a cap, an old leather jacket, sunglasses, and a strange brownish beard, and he was holding a KFC bucket.
It took a few moments to register, but the man took off his sunglasses and cap. It was Kayn, with a wig and fake beard — very well done, by the way. After the initial shock, Yone started laughing. Kayn laughed along.
"How do you think I bought this crap at the drive-thru?” Kayn raised the medium bucket of food he had in his hands. He had taken one of the more popular cars used by housekeeping and gone to a KFC to get fried chicken.
"What the... Kayn, what the hell?" Yone kept laughing; it was too bizarre for him.
"I told you I'd make you eat fried chicken."
"I need... a photo of this... please." Yone couldn't stop laughing, still holding the gate.
"Take as many photos as you want." Kayn laughed along. He looked back. "Are you going to let me in or not?"
Yone stepped aside and allowed Kayn to pass. When he entered the house, the blond placed the bucket on a counter and took off his jacket. Before he could even think of removing the rest of his disguise, Yone raised his phone with a huge smile on his face. Kayn flipped the camera off while the other took the picture.
He could have imagined anything about that Saturday, except that Kayn would show up, dressed as something close to a trucker, with a car from the year before last, to offer him fried chicken; but Kayn always surprised him, he had already established that.
The manager didn't put the phone back in his pocket; he left it on silent and placed it on a counter. Kayn took off the wig and made an uncomfortable face as he removed the beard. He tossed both onto another counter.
"Just so you know, Yone, if you grab a napkin to eat this, I'll throw this bucket at your head. Where's the dining room?"
Yone just laughed. He pointed backward, toward a hallway.
"We're going to eat this sitting on the living room rug."
Kayn opened up such a satisfying smile to watch that maybe Yone had spent a couple seconds doing so as he spoke.
“Now that’s my boy. You’re gonna enjoy it.”
“Hardly. You’re talking to someone who’s gone to sixty-two Michelin three-star restaurants.”
Kayn rolled his eyes.
“None of which was a Meet and Greet with Spotify Global Top 50 Shieda Kayn.”
“Greet is not the word I’d use.” Yone pinched Kayn’s butt, much to his surprise, but he was just laughing.
“Meet and creep it is.” Kayn returned the favor, but on his turn actually slapping Yone’s ass, making him laugh.
The realization of how intimate they were by then and how easy it was to just be silly together and make someone as uptight as Yone just freely laugh made Kayn clear his throat and feel the need to fill up silence as they walked to the living room.
“But sixty-two? I went to some, but how many even are there?”, he asked Yone.
“Around 150 by the last guide, but some I went to lost their stars and others gained. One third of it is in France and Japan only. So, I went to a few in Italy, one in South Korea and some here in the USA, but I’ve gone to every one that was in Japan before the latest Guide, and almost all of those in France.”
“You’ve gone several times to France, then.”
“Bien sûr que j’y suis déjà allé beaucoup de fois.”
Kayn’s baffled expression made Yone laugh.
“You speak fucking French.”
“I do. A little bit out of a whim if I'm being honest.”
“You’ve just found a way of being sexier and more obnoxious at the same time. It’s a talent at this point.”
Yone snorted, sliding the living room door open. At the sight, plush armchairs and two sumptuous velvet sofas are arranged around a marble coffee table on top of a gray fluffy rug, walls lined with framed artwork and shelves with liquor bottles and decorations from all over the world, while a crystal chandelier overhead casts a gentle glow. What surely stands out, however, is for sure the grand piano with its polished surface gleaming under the warm light.
Mindlessly, Yone was still just about to answer Kayn.
“I speak Japanese and English. But I know Korean, Mandarin-Chinese, Spanish, and French. I’m not 100% versed, though. I'm just fluent enough to talk, read and generally communicate.”
“You don't get to humble brag now.” Kayn followed him inside the room.
“I’m not. I just don't brag about what I’m average at.”
“ Average.” the singer scoffed, but then his attention was caught and he whistled when he looked at the grand piano in the corner of the room; huge, beautiful, solemn. He placed the bucket and the soda on the coffee table in front of the sofas, on the other side, and took a moment to admire it.
"Now that is a beautiful piece."
"The piano?" Yone shrugged, approaching. "It was my father's."
“Oh, so you leave in your living room a huge memento of the reason why you say that speaking six languages is average .”
Yone chortled.
“It’s not only his fault, though. But fair enough.”
"I really don't like pianists." Kayn sat on the floor
Yone raised his eyebrows, sitting next to him.
"And why is that?"
The bucket was opened, and Kayn had grabbed a drumstick.
"All the ones I've met were little shits. You especially." The singer bit into his piece.
Chuckling, Yone reached for a wing and leaned against the sofa.
"Who else have you met?"
They talked. Kayn told Yone about a man named Aphelios, who he had barely mentioned before, but who Yone already knew from Zed and a piece of a story he needed to hide. Yone really wanted to get to that topic and comment on the correspondence Kayn had received, but he couldn't. He would rather hear about that keyboard player from Church, who was struggling to overcome deep religious guilt, but still somehow managed to be sassy and a prankster. He also talked about Sett, who he believed to be his soulmate, but at the young and of fifteen already made ends meet by being an underground prizefighter. Kayn had some kind of noticeable affection towards them, but with such a bitter taste to it that the sweetness didn't balance it enough to be properly called bittersweet. When he mentioned Ezreal, or The Prodigal Explorer, he did it very quickly; so quickly that he stumbled over his name. Yone knew psychology just enough to notice how hard it was to even utter his name out loud.
He couldn't ruin that moment. He couldn't upset that carefree face, put tension in that body sitting on his fluffy rug in jeans and a T-shirt, he couldn't take away that smile, that now slightly greasy relaxation; it was just too much fun, too relaxed, and they exchanged trivialities. They didn't mention the previous night's dinner or the dinner that would follow that night; neither mattered there.
Yone wouldn't know the night Kayn had while alone in his bedroom. He wouldn't know that Kayn also couldn't sleep because every time he closed his eyes he had to realize something he couldn't. He tossed and turned and kicked and muffled screams in his pillows, as if he couldn’t cope with the power of his multi-million dollar voice. He got up and walked in circles inside his huge bedroom as if he’s a circus tiger locked in a very small cage, growling and roaring just as such as well. He wanted a hit, anything to numb him, he just wanted it all to stop hurting so bad, and it’s not even the fact that he’s again a pawn to this boring, sick game they play. Even with everything, it still would be easier that way.
He got high and drunk enough to knock himself out, and thankfully didn't get to hurt himself purposefully if not for scratching his own arms and biting his inner lips. But he woke up like shit wishing something to make him feel better.
And there he was.
As if nothing had happened the night before to either of them, they talked about music, they laughed and they smiled, eating greasy food in the living room. Yone only left to pick up some fancy-ass ice cream as dessert, to be eaten in the same way, on top of a fluffy rug and among careless laughter.
When Yone threw the plastics and napkins away, Kayn was in the bathroom washing his hands and mouth. Yone had already done the same. He returned to the living room and found Kayn standing, hands in his pockets, in front of the piano. As soon as he saw Yone approaching, he took another step toward the instrument. Carefully, he opened it, then removed the green piece of velvet protecting the keys. While folding it, he glanced at Yone.
"Come on, play something for us."
"You said you didn't like pianists."
"I don't like pianists, not the piano. The piano is beautiful. I've always wanted to learn."
Yone got closer. He ran his hand through Kayn's hair, and it felt like the first time he had done it.
"If you want, I can teach you."
Kayn smiled back. He sighed and smelled the strong soap scent from Yone's hand, amused to find that even there it all seemed to go along with the wooden notes of Yone’s scent. If he destroyed his nose with cocaine, he might not be able to smell it.
"Maybe I'll accept." The singer held Yone's wrist and took it out of his face, but not to move it away, but to hold his hand instead and lead him to the piano, insistently wanting him to play.
Yone sat down and tried to think of something he knew by heart, something that wouldn't sound heavy or serious. He started playing "Rondo alla turca," and Kayn patiently stood beside him, listening. The sound forming on the piano was really magnificent, how vibrant and contagious it was.
The music ended, and Yone looked up at Kayn.
"Okay, a piece by Mozart." Kayn forced a yawn, and Yone chuckled lightly. "It can be more fun, you know."
Yone paused, looked at the keys, and his fingers trembled for a moment. He played a few notes and stopped.
“I hope you don't mind that.”
Then, he started a song, skillfully strumming.
It wasn't a song traditionally for the piano; it didn't even have a keyboard in its composition.
Kayn's eyes went wide and his heart started to race as he recognized.
It was the song that Kayn had shown him. A different rhythm, but exactly it.
Yone didn't know, but the song was called Paranoia, and there it went.
Kayn had approached and was standing next to Yone. The silence between the notes had provoked him, and the desire he felt to sing those verses made his voice intermingle with the music.
They wanna kiss me long good night with a rose
Hoping that the Eiffel falls, of course
You don't understand the life we chose
On life support, life goes
Yone sighed when he heard Kayn's voice behind him, and while his fingers continued to move quickly and skillfully, giving life to a song that filled the house, that filled his mind, and that incited him.
I need my silence, my privacy so I can heal
And even rockstars got feelings that they feel
In reality, this just repeats like a drill
Kayn felt his breathing grow heavier, and his eyes fixed on Yone's hands playing the keys. Yone missed a note, and then another, and stopped playing. He swallowed hard.
“I'm out of practice, though. I didn't mean to meddle. I know this is a very intimate song for you. I'm just a bit hooked on it.”
Kayn sat beside him on the small bench and was breathing deeply.
“It’s actually just a silly song. We weren't geniuses, we were stupid teens who just wanted to grow big enough to complain about being famous. There were rap parts to it, even.” Kayn scoffed. “Maybe you could throw some beats to it and just make it EDM instead.”
But Yone wasn't up for anything deprecating, mostly when it came from defensive behavior.
“Your voice gives heart to it. It’s easy to see you’re very wholehearted about it. It’s the innocence and the hurt behind it.”
It took Kayn a moment and a sigh before answering.
“Yeah, but the piano makes it a whole new thing. You composed this in just a couple of days?”
“Composing is too big of a word, I just-”
Kayn shushed Yone pressing a finger to his lips.
“Don't even start.”
Yone chuckled, and as his lips were freed, he smiled and shrugged.
“I’d guess it’s just… inspiration.”
“What, did you find your muse?”
Kayn joked, not ready for the look in Yone’s face as their eyes met.
“Maybe.”, he sighed, courageously holding his gaze. “I just know that I’ve never felt quite like this before.”
Kayn didn't respond. Yone's fingers were still resting on the keys. Kayn placed his hand over his, and they heard the soft sound of the keys being pressed again, a continuous sound, without rhythm, but it sounded so melodic that Yone felt a chill of fear in his guts.
Yone inched closer to him, and kissed him. He shouldn't have; or maybe he should have more than anything in his entire life. He placed his other hand on Kayn's chest and felt the singer’s heart beating so fast it seemed to skip the beats.
They stood, barely able to take their mouths out of each other, and pressed their bodies together; something was attracting them too strongly. It demanded desire, it demanded strength, but above all now, it demanded courage. Gradually, they pressed their bodies more tightly against each other, and they fell to the couch with everything soaring too high.
The sensation of their clothes being stripped from their bodies and their kisses deepening was disconcerting. Their bare skins against each other were startling. Their bodies pushing against each other, the breathless words, and the hands grabbing their backs, it was uncontrollable. They weren't prepared for any of that, literally about sex or figuratively for the very sensation of their bodies together, so even though Kayn was on top of him, all they did was grind their bodies together. Everything is a blur and at the distance Yone noticed that the vibrating sound was also from the rain on the outside. He couldn't think. If he reasoned it it would be the end of it and he couldn't afford it. And anyway it was hard to. Hard to connect the simplest of things, hard to remember anything else but that sofa, that place, hard to picture the next step but even harder to imagine himself without more right now. Those movements Kayn was making were hypnotizing. Just like that, yes, his body would lose its grip on reality, those lips and hands on his only thing he knew empirical and truth a story unfolding inside his mind. Like a violent memory, creating sparks and driving into shock, although he'd never witnessed any of it. As mouth parted and Yone leant in, he experienced a pain that wasn't his – yet was, the cracking of glass in every finger that slid over his skin.
As pleasure and desperation increased, Kayn felt like running away from him. Beating him to a pulp, screaming at him, shouting while breaking things. But he also felt like kissing him, of holding and caressing every inch of his warm, pale skin, and that was what he held on to. He was mesmerized, delighted, heart a lead balloon inside his chest because that was it.
What he wanted.
More, even, than he ever asked.
They were silent, awfully silent for their own good, no words uttered but their strangled moans and the relentlessly loud whispers of each other’s name under their breaths. The climax they reached, the moans dying in their throats, and the muscles tensing to the maximum were simply maddening.
When his body gave up and his mind went blank, Kayn was supporting himself on his forearms on the sofa on either side of Yone's head. He was on top of him; their foreheads touching, their noses side by side, their mouths breathing the hot, hesitant air between the few centimeters separating their lips. They had their eyes closed, and Yone clung to Kayn's body as if he needed to hold onto something to keep from falling, given the dizziness he felt.
They moved their faces apart and opened their eyes.
All of that had been overwhelming. But to see how brightly their eyes shone afterward, that was simply indescribable.
Yone blinked once, slowly, his face exhausted. They kissed once more, and Yone's hands gradually released Kayn's body, relaxing on the velvety surface.
When their lips parted again, Kayn smiled at the weariness he saw in the other's features.
“Let me just...” Yone blinked heavily and settled on the mattress. He yawned. Kayn’s heartbeats and the sound if the rain outside were lulling him.
“Don’t worry...” Kayn ran his hand through Yone's hair. “You can sleep, Yone.”
“I'll just take a nap, I won't sleep...” Yone's voice was so sleepy it sounded drunken. Kayn smiled crookedly and gave him a kiss on the forehead. He kept his lips against his skin for a few moments, moments in which he blinked slowly and sighed. Yone smiled faintly with closed eyes and sought Kayn's hand.
“No need, I'm already going home.” Kayn whispered. “You also have your dinner with K'Sante.”
“Stay here for a while.” Yone murmured softly. His hand found Kayn's, and he intertwined their fingers.
Kayn just smiled again. With his free hand, he caressed Yone's hair.
“You're the one who’d say I couldn't.”
Yone mumbled something hardly comprehensible, and then his expression completely relaxed. The strength in his fingers intertwined with Kayn's faded, and he was asleep.
After he was sure that Yone was deeply asleep, Kayn disentangled himself the most carefully he could not to wake him up, lying his head on a pillow. He was knocked out and a heavy sleeper, but still Kayn did all he could to leave as stealthly as possible. He walked out in complete silence as each breath weighed on his entire life. His lips trembled, and his fists then clenched tightly. His gaze scrutinized every piece of the room he was in, not missing a single detail. The austerity of the beautiful furniture, the diplomas hanging on the wall, the grand piano, until gradually everything became blurry and shaky. Kayn closed his eyes tightly, and the tears that had formed in his eyes rolled down his face and let him see clearly again.
He had to lock the desire to cry within himself. Because he didn't have the right to let more tears fall, he didn't have the right to wash his soul. If Yone filled the emptiness he felt inside, where else could he run to hide? If Yone just takes a toy from the shelves and starts playing with it without paying for it, it’s theft.
He can't afford it.
That also wasn't the deal he made with himself.
He breathed with intensity, marked his steps violently, and walked to the wooden and glass shelves where Yone kept his drinks. He raised his hand for a brandy, uncorked it, and tossed the cap back. He took a large gulp and hated every drop that touched his tongue.
Holding the bottle by the neck, he took the car key out of his pocket and stormed out the front door to that pouring evening.
Chapter Text
It was still raining as Yone arrived at K’Sante’s house. The door opened and caused Yone to feel slightly dizzy, after spending those two minutes deeply analyzing the grains and grooves of the hardwood while waiting for K'Sante to answer the door. He did not change his countenance when he saw Yone; he reached forward as if it wasn't by that door where they had ripped each other's clothes off a few weeks ago; they only shook each other’s hand.
“Good evening, Yone.”
“Sorry I'm late, K'Sante” Yone would make up an excuse, if his swollen face wasn't giving him away right there.
“You finally managed to sleep properly, is that it?” K'Sante stepped aside so Yone could enter his house.
“Yes, that was… that was quite disrespectful of me.” Yone tucked his hair behind his ear and straightened his jacket. K'Sante didn't change his tone.
“Don’t act like a businessman, much less like a little virgin boy. I’m not a fool, you were fucking.” K'Sante locked the front door back. “There is brandy in the living room.”
Yone gritted his teeth as K'Sante took off his coat and left it on the couch next to him.
"Thank you."
K'Sante took the lead, passing by Yone and crossing into the living room. The fact that even there he didn’t lean in for a kiss told Yone that he knew what was coming.
Yone hated that he didn’t have the upper hand in there, as well as he hated being late. He also didn’t like to wake up alone, lost and dizzy, after falling asleep with Kayn next to him, but that was something else to be dealt with now.
He knew very well the room he was about to go to. There was a grand fireplace framed in intricately carved marble, its mantle adorned with a gleaming antique clock and delicate porcelain vases. One of the walls was covered by rich mahogany bookshelves, filled with leather-bound volumes he knew no one in that house cared to read, and in a small cellar there were bottles of the best whisky Yone had tasted. Lush velvet drapes in deep burgundy cascade from the ceiling to the floor, complementing the luxurious Persian rug beneath, lit from the chandelier. The furniture is an exquisite blend of Victorian and Edwardian styles, ornately upholstered sofas and chairs with polished wooden legs, accompanied by a gleaming mahogany coffee table set with fine china and a silver tea service.
K’Sante took a few steps to the smaller cellar in the corner of the room. Yone sat down in an armchair with an inaudible sigh, while K'Sante brought a whisky bottle and placed a glass in his hands.
“The model Kayn spent the party with yesterday is really charming.” Still standing, K'Sante finished opening the bottle and poured Yone with a sidelong glance at his face.
Neat, like Yone drinks.
“If it does work, Ahri is a really good choice. It's nice to talk to her, she’s actually smart and pleasant to be with.”
K'Sante finished pouring the wine and left it on the coffee table. He remained standing and walked around the room again, leaving Yone's field of vision, who just tried to follow him with his gaze without seeming too distressed.
“I don’t think delicate women are right for Kayn, but who am I to say?” K'Sante said between the sound of a drawer being opened.
“If Kayn liked her, that’s enough for me.”
“Yes, of course it is.” Sarcasm permeated his voice. “I’m not blind, Yone. Cuter than the two of them together, only how jealous you were.”
K'Sante's voice was then immediately behind him, very close. Yone took a long sip from his glass and licked his lips.
“I’m not going into the merits of this.”
“You seem a bit out of place, Yone.” K'Sante put his free hand on Yone’s shoulders and walked around his chair. Yone remained still, and swallowed hard.
“That’s because it’s not to talk about Kayn that I came here.”
“Why is it, then?”
“I thought it was clear.”
K'Sante took a few steps forward with a box of cigars in his other hand. He sat down, opened it up, picked one inside and placed it in the corner of his mouth, stuck between his teeth.
“Of course it is. I just want to hear you saying it.”
K'Sante's voice was impassive. He lit his cigar without taking his eyes off the flame of the gold lighter he had in his hands. Yone licked his lips and took a deep breath.
"Sure. You’re a remarkable man, K’Sante, a company that I really enjoy. And, for some time, we had something that worked well, to which I’m grateful for. But I’m afraid it's not working like that anymore. We have always been good business partners and great bed partners; but it couldn't last. I think it’s better if we end it before it gets in the way of our business.”
K'Sante finally looked up. He gave a weak laugh amidst some smoke, like someone who really found what Yone was saying funny.
"Sure. All good."
Yone frowned as K'Sante smoked once more.
"All good? "
Another tobacco laugh came out of K'Sante's mouth.
“Did you want me to kneel on the floor and ask you to stay with me? It’s a shame, but I understand what you're feeling. I was definitely closer to loving Kayn than I was to loving you, so I won’t really miss your ass so much.”
It didn't even matter to Yone – it was a relief, actually – but it still somehow offended him. However, he knew he couldn't stick with it if he didn't want to lose the argument.
“ You fell in love with Kayn?”
“I didn’t say that.” K'Sante crossed his legs as if he was quite comfortable with it all. “I was at a risk of it, though. It's just that after a while with Kayn, he really ends up captivating you. He's unexpected, he's very intense, and at the time we were together, he was crazy focused on his goals. The truth is that Kayn has something passionate about him, even if it's just his messed up act. Why do you think I gave him a chance? Because I knew he would do that to the crowds. It’s not difficult to be in the situation you’re in.”
“K'Sante, do you really think I’m in love with someone I work with? You still don’t understand anything about me?”
Yone's gaze was fixed on K'Sante, too fixed, as if he wanted to make him swallow some truth. K’Sante got up from the sofa, leaving the cigar still lit on the ashtray on the coffee table. He took a slow, inaudible step toward Yone's chair, and his words were equally sneaky.
“I would say that it is obvious that yes, that how much you are drooling over Kayn is palpable, but I have been wrong before with you.”
K'Sante once again left Yone's field of vision, walking silently to some of the bookshelves just for the sake of walking.
“The truth is that I'm hoping that yes, I'm hoping that you're more than literally on all fours for him. Because then you would experience personally what you do to people, you would suffer like a bastard. Then I’m dying for you to have given your heart to Kayn, man, I'm rooting for that with everything I have.” K'Sante had stopped behind the armchair, and his hands gripped the back of it. He lowered his head and his lips were by Yone's ear. “...I hope he breaks you in half, you traitorous little son of a bitch. ”
Yone then opened a wide smile bordering on burlesque. He dug his fingers into the upholstered arm of the seat, and stared at the empty sofa with only the uncomfortable sensation of K'Sante's presence where he couldn't see. He had probably reviewed the contracts.
“I feel this isn’t only about our affair.”
A movement cut the air; a heavy step from K'Sante scored beside the armchair and K'Sante's hand landed an open-handed blow to Yone's chest. The older man pushed the other's torso and the backrest gave way backwards. For a moment, Yone thought he was going to tip over, but it was a reclining chair, and he was only leaning down a little.
“You are a scoundrel.” K'Sante put one knee on the arm of the seat and his hand was still pushing Yone down. With the other, he pointed his finger in his face and growled under his breath. “You are worth absolutely nothing other than what you can buy with money, and you will pay dearly for that.”
“Alright, K'Sante...”
Yone tried to get up, and ended up sitting down again. However, K'Sante forced his shoulder down once again.
“Stay there, you fucking coward. Since you did something so riffraff, at least be man enough to admit it and face it!”
Yone then released his torso on the upholstery, stopping fighting, and just grabbed K'Sante's wrist, which was pressing against his chest and making his breathing hitch.
“And you really are a bundle of character, K'Sante.” he looked at him directly. “If anything, you allowed this to happen.”
“It must help you sleep, right?” K'Sante permeated his voice with the pulsing anger in his chest. “Conning the big guy who takes advantage of cute, hot and dreamy little boys. You are helping poor Kayn, taking him to meetings, searching about his past, you must think you are the prince charming of the story. The truth is, you're fake to the last strand of your hair, and that makes you evil. What will your new love Shieda Kayn think of what you’ve done, Yone? What will he think if he finds out he’s just another one of your games?”
“Are you going to tell him, by any chance? That you got played by another one of your employees you sleep with?”
“You will question my methods? You, who only know how to fuck people to get what you want, in every sense of the word? All you have is your well-cut suits and your pretty face, Yone, and that's why I never fell in love with you. I'm not decent or any better than you are, but you're a shell, you're empty and futile. Kayn is a thousand times more of a man than you are.”
That conversation felt like deja-vu to Yone. He hit the other's arm hard and he gave in, releasing him and relieving the pressure on his lungs. He stood up and stood in front of K'Sante, pointing at his chest.
“There’s a difference between the two of us, K'Sante: Insight. If you’re going to act like this, you need to at least be smart so you don’t get left behind.”
“Smart like…falling in love with Shieda Kayn?”
Yone opened his mouth to retaliate, but his cell phone vibrated in his pants pocket, its electronic ring rising louder with each ignored second.
The two stared at each other fiercely, and didn't look away as Yone put his hand in his pocket and answered the call. Before he even received an answer, he wondered why someone was calling him at half past eight on Saturday night; but he just responded.
“Yone.” And Yone's gaze moved away.
K'Sante placed his hands on his hips and shook his head. His imagination for a moment wandered a little violently; He could have broken a bottle over Yone's head, he could have poisoned his wine, he was so angry. Anger at what he did, anger at the betrayal, at the hurt pride.
"Kayn WHAT?”
Yone's startled voice hit K'Sante and formed in his mind like the bold letters in a gossip magazine. He smiled cockily, crookedly, bitterly.
“I don’t… no, what do you mean?” Yone was indignant on the phone. He had pulled up a bar stool in the corner of the room and sat down, running his free hand through his hair. "I'm on my way."
Yone hung up the phone with a sigh so dejected that even K'Sante felt the anguish.
“What did he do this time?”
“Police raid on Central Avenue, breathalyzer check...”, he could barely finish it.
Yone passed his hands over his eyes, pressing his fingertips to his forehead. K'Sante stood up laughing, incredulous laughter.
“Did he get caught drunk driving?”
“I can't... I can't believe that he did something so stupid.” Yone's voice dragged in his throat.
K'Sante clasped his hands and laughed so as not to kick anything around him. He grabbed Yone's arm and pulled him away from the room. He had to solve this, and it would especially be great if he actually left.
“As we see it our dinner is going to have to be dismissed, Yone. You’ve got this shit to sort out now, unless you’ve already given up your job as an agent.”
"I cannot give up."
The phrase had about three different meanings in that situation. Yone stopped next to the entrance of the house and his face no longer had any definable expression.
"Go ahead, partner, or our money goes down the drain.” K'Sante opened the door with an exhausted face. “Call your friend LeBlanc and she’ll help you with this, and take the opportunity to keep her by your side at all times. You’re going to need a really good lawyer from now on.”
The door closed and Yone wanted to face it, he wanted to stop and really measure the weight that everything had on his shoulders. He thought about the moments when he had sighed in Kayn's arms and fallen into a delicious sleep. Maybe it was all his delusion. Perhaps no piano keys were played, perhaps no songs were sung; or, if there were, maybe they mattered less than Yone thought they would.
He had a police station to go to and yet another night not to sleep.
***
As his shoes touched the gray floor, Yone wished they were less concrete. He wished they would tell him that he was dreaming, that he wasn't with such gigantic trouble on his back.
Yet another guard stopped next to him and his presence made sure Yone knew this was real. The useless dawn was real. The police station was real. The reporters who would start popping up at the door, real, even with the rain; and as real was the lawyer LeBlanc beside him, thankfully leading on her own the whole process. Yone was reeling from reality from how exhausted he felt, but it was all real.
It was a police station and a jail; a fucking jail smelling of decay, a strong and weak light, a tinkling of metal making itself every now and then between words in the distance. The police officers gave them the records, the breathalyzer results, and the empty bottle. He had been booked; he was so drunk he was barely holding his nameplate. Even before they even arrived at the police station, Kayn had fallen asleep, while the world fell apart around him. He was mostly accompanied by LeBlanc and by the police officers and doctors, and he would have to sober up enough to be able to be released.
Twelve hours, ten cups of coffee, and fifteen different types of bureaucracy later, Kayn was going to be transferred to court for morning arraignment, for the scheduling of the next hearing and to discuss the terms of the release on his own recognizance.
Yone waited for when they were ready to go to court, his phone kept ringing but he found himself unable to think well enough to solve anything else. All he thought was that Irelia will have work on a Sunday, but at least she probably had a full night of sleep.
That was when Kayn finally came with LeBlanc to the corridor where Yone had spent the night and his early morning.
Probably it wasn’t the longest Yone had spent without sleep, but seeing Kayn felt like he was hallucinating. It felt like that afternoon in his house had happened weeks ago, and not the day before. It felt that the smiling, carefree man that surprised him in his house was a creation of his mind, something he wished into existence, and getting up to walk to him didn’t make it realer. There was something somber in his bloodshot eyes, and the crooked smile that appeared in his lips as they were close enough to each other was nothing but eerie.
“That guard asked for an autograph for his daughter.” Kayn pointed back with his thumb to the end of the corridor and scoffed. Yone didn't react; his eyes were severe and his thin lips pressed together without saying a word.
Kayn's smile faded and he remained there, his arms dangling. LeBlanc was signing some things and talking to an administrative services officer ahead on the corridor.
“Are you going to stand there staring at me?” Kayn said again.
"Why?" Yone responded quickly, in a low tone. “ Why , Kayn, that’s all I want to know.”
Kayn finally looked directly into his eyes and then those clear eyes would hold the stare.
"Why not?"
It was Yone who couldn't bear to look much more directly. He took a step forward so he could speak lower.
“You still have alcohol on your breath.” Yone's voice was shaking. “You could have killed someone. You could have killed yourself.”
“You say it like I care.”
Yone’s breath was coming out in hiccups, as he was trying his best not to lose his temper.
“You don’t care, right. Do you remember what happened to my brother?”
Kayn gritted his teeth and swallowed hard.
“That’s your problem.”
He wanted it to sound more resolute than it did, but he didn’t have the heart to keep looking at Yone when he knew it would hurt him.
And it did. Yone lost it, and his next words, even if measured, bled out how hurt he felt.
“Fuck, Kayn, you ruined EVERYTHING! ” Yone raised his voice at the end of the sentence, and it seemed to echo back into Kayn’s words.
“AND WHAT IS THE FUCKING SURPRISE?” Kayn's response was immediate and burst through his throat. It reverberated in the hallway and inside Yone's head, and everyone’s eyes were on them.
The manager stepped closer and held Kayn’s arm, murmuring under his breath.
“Lower your fucking voice or you’ll end up behind bars.”
“Leave me alone, Yone.” Kayn pulled his arm away from the grip. “You don’t need to be here, leave me with the cute lawyer and have some fucking rest.”
“What’s the point of all this shit here?” Yone gestured around, showing the police station, showing that it was Kayn's attitude he was talking about. “When I hated you, you wanted to be left alone. And now that we give each other some peace, that we were finally finding our way, you had to destroy it. ”
“I don't care what you're feeling, it's none of my fucking business. We were having fun and we were almost forgetting that I hate you, I despise you , and the only difference between the two of us is that I say it to your face. ”
Yone snorted, humorless.
"You want to hate me and you want me to hate you. Well, it's too late; it's too late and it's all your fault. You can run from it and be a bitch all you want about it, but you have to deal with it." Yone's voice lowered as his gaze. “We’ll talk when you’re out of this and fully sober, you fucking idiot. At least you’re alive.”
Yone gave his back to walk to next to LeBlanc, with firm steps and trembling lips. Kayn turned to the walls that had enclosed him, and they could close around him and it wouldn't be so bad. He threw his body sat on a bench while he felt violently sick, from being hungover and everything smelling of metal, cheap bleach and poorly washed things - they smelled like Seattle. He buried his hands in his face. His head hurt so much, it throbbed, and he closed his eyes tightly trying not to throw up. With them closed, he could still see some flashes dissipating, some colors, until darkness took over his vision.
His voice broke and the sentences he had said cluttered his head, without a defined sound; but Kayn knew what he meant, and he heard his own voice fill his mind, in silence.
To believe or not, to feel or not to feel, truth or lie. What does it matter, what difference does it make? It had never stopped me before, it had never meant anything to me. I do not deserve anything other than this right here.
Meanwhile, Yone just approached LeBlanc like a moth to a lamp.
LeBlanc was someone Yone would want to never have a problem with. Evelynn’s first contact as a lawyer and she just doesn’t lose cases. They had needed her from the beginning for everything they’ve been planning, and her face doesn’t even need to appear at all for her influence to spread. For sure someone like her would only spend her night at a police station because it was for them, and because they can pay handsomely.
And for once, it was good to have someone else be the one to know what to do and which were the next steps. The papers in the lawyer’s hands seemed to merge with the immaculate white of her shirt; or that's how it looked in Yone's blurry vision. She had her usual calm features and confident voice and started talking to him.
"...because Kayn is not a repeat offender. We can mostly...” LeBlanc looked up at Yone and saw him miles away. “Yone? Are you listening to me?"
Yone almost got scared when he heard his name, and turned his cloudy gaze to the lawyer.
"Sorry. Could you repeat the last part, please?”
LeBlanc lowered the papers, tilting her head to the side.
“I know you’re worried and I saw your little altercation with Kayn over there. You can go home and rest, you know? I’ll take it from here.”
Yone sighed and rubbed his eyes.
“I can’t. It’s just that this kind of mess has been happening too much lately.”
“If you don’t sleep better, you won’t even be able to think straight to solve the problems that keep you up at night.”
“Explain this paradox to my brain.”
"Well, if it were only Kayn, it would be enough trouble. But you bought yourself some more with K’Sante at the same time, so you had better be in good shape.”
Her honesty was always welcome, but now it was just something else he didn’t want to deal with.
“Yes. K’Sante seemed too calm and polite for someone who got screwed up as much as he did. I was actually kind of afraid of him yesterday. On top of that he's been losing money by the bucket lately; I think he has something up his sleeve and I’m worried about it.”
“Does he have anything else he can use against you? Is there anything important you haven’t told me yet?”
Yone swallowed hard. He would have been able to disguise it better before, but his mind was working very slowly. LeBlanc narrowed her gaze.
A single thing crossed his mind; someone he hadn't even spoken to anymore, but who undoubtedly fit in with what she was saying.
“No, nothing. You already know that K'Sante and I were having an affair.”
“If that's it, Yone, I’ve already told you. I have defended more complicated things than a case of debasement in breaches of contract and use of bad faith; which, I'm sorry, is what we have here. The most important question is: does he have any weapons against you or would he be able to do anything other than sue you?”
“I don’t know what he would be capable of. I never know, there's too much money involved. But K'Sante has no weapon against me.”
“I'm trusting you, Yone. Don’t make me look like an idiot.”
"I am not going to. Let’s just get Kayn out of here and take it one step at a time.”
***
The first hours of the Sunday were lit by flashes rather than the sun's rays. When Kayn left the police station, accompanied by Yone and LeBlanc, he was staring straight ahead, at the car that would take them away. It was still raining a bit, but it didn’t deter anyone who was in front of the police station. The police had to exercise restraint, given the number of reporters, fans and members of the public who had gathered outside the police station in search of even the slightest news about Shieda Kayn’s release. They found out that this would happen and there they were; huddled together, microphones, phones and camcorders in hand, still trying to get the best view of the controversial singer. However, as soon as the door opened and the first glimpse of Kayn was made, the crowd swarmed and the sound of questions and exclamations blended into one single loud, diffuse and confusing mess.
Right next to Kayn, a reporter made his voice heard. She was a woman wearing a transparent rain coat and red sunglasses. She had her phone in her hand and was stretching it towards the three of them, ignoring anything around him.
“Mr. Kayn, I’m Vayne, from The Prophetess. What was the situation that led you to commit such an irresponsible act?”
Kayn continued to stare at the car door, without responding; each one held their own umbrella, and he tightened the grip on the hold of his own. He felt Yone's hand on his shoulder, guiding him as if he were an animal to his cage.
LeBlanc cast a subtle glance at the individual with the phone in hand and widened her stride to stand directly next to Yone as they walked.
“Vayne from where?” LeBlanc asked Yone very low, amidst the insistent questions from the other reporters. More flashes.
"Website." Yone lowered his voice to a whisper. “They think they are very pioneers and challengers. They were independent until recently, but they got some really big sponsorships in the last months and they are growing big.”
The manager was too tired to hide the extent of his bad mood; He gave Vayne a fierce look without worrying if it seemed too repressive. He was that type of rat journalist, who doesn't respect the work of others, who thinks he has privileges in press coverage.
“Did you think about the accidents with innocent victims that you could have caused in the early hours of Saturday when you decided to get into a car while intoxicated?” Vayne kept walking, pushing past a journalist who was also trying to ask her question.
They just continued, without anything to declare.
“What do you have to say to the fans who look up to you?” Vayne had jostled with the other journalists and pushed the phone almost right in front of Kayn's face. The singer braked, ignoring Yone's prompting him to proceed directly to the car. He looked back at the reporter.
“I have to say that if they wanted a role model, they would go to church, not a concert. Stop bothering me.” Kayn pushed the phone out of his face and Vayne threw her arm as if Kayn had hit her hard.
Yone pulled Kayn back and took his place in front of Vayne. He heard the reporter protest and tell the journalists around her that Kayn had hit his arm.
“He’s not going to answer any more questions, Ms. Vayne, I suggest you stop pushing that recorder against Kayn’s nose.”
“Is that a threat, Mr. Yone?” She made sure Yone knew she knew him.
“I would never threaten a journalist working, I just ask that you don’t interfere with mine. And a little respect in a really complicated situation. If you excuse me."
Yone turned his back to the crowd and stopped again next to Kayn, who was waiting with his arms crossed, even though LeBlanc insisted that he continued walking to the car and got out of everyone's sight. Even while Yone held his arm so they could continue walking, Kayn still glared at Vayne. The reporter was unaffected; when she realized that the attention was focused on her, she increased the volume of her voice.
“You ask for respect, but what about Kayn, is he respecting his fans and the media that supports him at the top?”
The singer tried to raise his hand and Yone realized he was going to give Vayne the middle finger. He grabbed his hand without allowing his fingers to move and pushed it down, then remained holding it.
The flashes, constant and insistent, became almost epileptic. Shit.
“Don’t you dare open your mouth again, Kayn.” Yone lowered his head to speak quietly to him, pushing him to keep walking. The car was so close, like the portal to salvation, he just had to enter.
“Fuck all of you.” Kayn growled once more to Yone before he opened the door and finally got into the blessed black car as they would go to Court.
More flashes.
The car was started. Yone sat in the backseat next to Kayn, slamming the door, and LeBlanc sat in the front next to the driver. They accelerated and a strong sigh was heard coming out of Yone’s chest like the bursting of a balloon.
They moved away from the crowd and only the sound of the engine and their labored breathing could be heard.
"Wow." The lawyer on the front seat just said.
Silence. Kayn stood with his arms crossed looking outside.
“I hope you are satisfied, Kayn.” Yone sighed and his body went limp against the car's upholstery. “It could be different. I hope this is what you’ve been looking for this whole time.”
The few minutes it took Kayn to gain the courage to respond were enough for Yone to lay his head back on the headrest and close his eyes, maybe even just knocking himself out to sleep. The singer looked back at his agent's face and remembered Saturday afternoon. He saw the straight locks that fell over his closed eyes, and wanted to arrange them behind his ear; he wanted to put his head on your shoulder and let him sleep.
He looked outside once again and the morning insisted on wanting to shine even through the rain. The buildings outlined the city's landscape in straight lines; buildings all full of people who knew his name. There was somewher some headphones playing his music. Somewhere there were people gathering to talk about him, to comment on what he did, oh my God, you don't even know! , and fingers somewhere were already frantically typing what had happened a few minutes ago.
He grinned, even when every muscle in his face tensed to stop him. His heart was beating fast and he hoped that his music would make sense to all these people, that his life would at least entertain them. If they want to watch, he can definitely be enough of a disaster for them to at least have something to gossip about and forget for a little while about their own stupid lives, to despise him or pity him as they witness it all. He hated it with all his might, but he needed to understand once and for all: That was what someone who gave everything up for stardom was for. For that, not for pianos, for fried chicken, for intertwined fingers. He was entertainment, nothing more than that.
Maybe Yone would also be back to see it now.
Chapter 30
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was two p.m. already and Diana was waiting for her colleague for them to finally grab some lunch. For then she remained behind Vayne, following every word her colleague typed. They were at work, even if on a Sunday; a newsroom divided by half walls, with rock n’ roll paintings and posters hanging on the wall. Cartoon-like drawings were drawn on a white board, as were song quotes – all on the third floor of a building in downtown Los Angeles. For someone who, until recently, worked in a New York basement with other guys, filled to the ceiling with Ramones posters, Sex Pistols phrases written on the tables in marker, smelling of cigarettes, that was quite an evolution for Diana.
Even though it meant she was covering celebrities’ gossip for now.
Vayne had her fingers quick on the keyboard to finish the last touches on the article and publish it as quick as possible. Both of them had been updating the threads and publications on Kayn’s detention for driving while intoxicated, and the previously posted news, videos and pictures had already a lot of clicks, making it the subject for the weekend. Now she needed to publish the full article with the whole story, background comparisons and its unfoldings. Now that Kayn was released and back home, with the hearings scheduled for December right before the recess, and it seemed that it was over, Vayne could put together everything along with whatever else they had, and with the aid of some programs the whole thing would be easy to also turn into as script for the videos that would also be published on Kayn on the website. But by then it wasn’t their job anymore.
If you want a role model, go to church, Vayne wrote as the headline.
“Preacher Shadow Assassin. That’s something.” Diana scoffed, and Vayne also chortled back.
“Whetever we can do without distorting it too much. You know how I felt about this the first time, but the more we look at it, the more off the rails he seems.”
“Yup. Truly seems to be a despicable person. Bosses all had a point.” Diana leaned with her hip on the desk, crossing her arms. “Or that’s what we want to believe to turn him into a villain.”
“You reap what you sow.” Vayne retorted as she went to the beginning of the article to speedread it again before posting. “Besides, it was your friend who hired us. And it’s always your pictures that get the most reposts, so don’t come at me.”
Diana picked her phone in her pocket to open the app again. Yone holding Kayn’s hand, from when he stopped what was probably an attempt of flipping the reporters off.
“If you ask me, he’d just be off the streets before he hurts someone. Whatever happens, he had it coming.”
Vayne clicked to post the article, then sighed and leaned her back on the backrest of the chair.
“We do know that not hurting people isn’t something he cares about.”
***
Everything buzzed inside Yone's head - Akali's voice, especially.
“... of why we are talking about taking him to the studio when he should be in rehab instead, receiving proper treatment. You all know that.”
The producer sometimes paraded in her loafers, sometimes marched from one side to the other through Evelynn's room; but one wouldn't need to notice the fluctuation in her patterns to realize that she was nervous. She would say it with every word if she had to.
Evelynn had her eyes following Akali's uncertain wandering around her room, without showing emotion. On the couch in front, Yone had thrown his body. His eyelids were heavy and nothing on that face expressed anything; he was a moving despondency, in his haggard features and his foggy eyes.
“It’s an outrage, but he’s on the front pages.” Evelynn just said, from behind her desk, his back against the back of her chair.
Braking her steps, Akali turned her gaze to Yone, as if asking him to speak out.
“Yes, that's right. First pages.” The manager muttered weakly, his eyes fixed on nothing in front of him.
The producer placed her hands on her hips and her look at the two was indignant.
“I can't believe you are going along with this. Since when did you guys just stop caring?”
“Akali... Go. To. Work." Evelynn narrowed her voice. “That's none of your business, your part is with the music. Production will officially start next week, nothing about that has changed; So how about you go to your offices and finish the compositions?”
Yone couldn't define what else the two discussed, or when it was that Akali actually left the room, because he was too lost between his tiredness and his thoughts and memories to focus on the reality of the room he was in. When she left the room, however, Evelynn's facial expression appeared; she fixed the displeasure on her face as she turned to Yone.
“Okay, Yone. I'm tired of hints, implications and euphemisms. You're playing dumb on me. Sit here in front of me and let’s put some things on the table.”
Standing up, Yone took steps to Evelynn's desk and didn’t say anything.
“Tell me, Yone: Do you think Akali's work will be in vain or not? Are we going to invest in this work or not?”
Yone sat back in his chair and frowned.
"Sorry?"
“Do you think the new album will come out? Do you think that, at the pace that everything is going, Kayn is worth the investment?”
“Of course it’s worth it. If he had concerts on the way, I could see this episode having consequences on tickets sales. Since we don’t have anything for now, we can lay low, let them all forget it and come back with a better structure.”
But she sighed, a rare display of exasperation that she would let out.
"Do I look like an idiot, Yone? Please, do tell me."
The manager sighed and rubbed his eyes.
“Kayn is changing, Evelynn. It’s not what we thought at first.”
"Oh, yeah. I can see." Evelynn didn't hold back her sarcasm.
“He hasn't asked me for cocaine since the music video incident when he broke that camera. Recovering isn’t linear, I couldn't expect much different. He's changing, yes. It’s just not the way you want.”
Evelynn laughed and intertwined her fingers.
"The way I want?" Then Evelynn's voice deepened and took on even more gravity. ”It was you who invented the method, it was you who convinced me and LeBlanc, it was you who noticed, Yone. I don't want to have to remind you of this anymore. I’m on the board with K’Sante, and we were all losing money because of Kayn. It was you who came up with the idea of using the loopholes in Kayn's contract to stick to K’Sante’s jugular and make him commit to reimbursing us with a percentage of sales in the event of a breach in the contract between the two. It was you who suggested that we use that missing piece to fit in, and it was you who said we could take advantage of any kind of termination in the board’s contract with Kayn.”
“Don’t say it, Evelynn.” Yone looked away and sighed.
“No, I will go through it all so that you can tell me if I’m getting anything wrong or if I missed something. You and K’Sante are now bound by a contract, great. You’re personal partners, but with one condition, one that you devised: There is a security clause that says that, if Kayn, for whatever reason, no longer works for K’Sante, the record company will pay you; and, as you and I have our own little contract, the profits from that come to me too. If Kayn’s contract is simply cancelled, terminated or broken, you'll rip their guts out. However, if Kayn continues to make losses, you will go to shit along with the record company, K’Sante and I. Do you remember this, Yone?”
Yone stared at her throughout her villain monologue.
“Of course I do.”
“I don't know if you realized, my dear; you have money, but not enough, and even with your heritage you can be in a really bad place. I’m the one behind this shit, and I’m the one who sponsored you in all this crap.”
“And I will pay you back.” Yone breathed deeply until it almost hurt.
Evelynn spread her hands on the table and tried to get some kind of reaction from the manager.
“That's why you were giving Kayn cocaine. That's why we chose you, and not that idiot Zed. It's that idiot who sometimes listened to us and sometimes trusted whatever nonsense Kayn said or did. It wasn’t supposed to be you.”
"I got it." Another sigh caught in Yone's throat. “I’m aware of all that, it’s just-”
“No, you listen to me.” She pointed at him with her black stiletto nail towards his face. “You needed to keep Kayn working and functioning while K'Sante wasn’t signing any contracts. You needed to keep up appearances, you needed to keep him in line no matter what, even if you were sure that in the long run, that would be the worst way to keep him alive. But it didn't matter, you didn't need a long run. Now you and K'Sante are connected, and you know how he would sell albums by the bucketload. Neither of us would admit it, but you know how much the death of a singer makes albums explode, don't you know? You always knew. And it is still a kind of termination...”
“Shut the fuck up!” Yone jumped to his feet and placed both hands on Evelynn's desk. He glared at her and his expression had come to life again; life only because anger pulsed through his veins.
“What is this that I see? Why do you have this sorry ass face as if I’m the villain here who is forcing you to do something, as if you’re a poor little overworked manager who just hopes to save a soul? You agreed in just being a vulture, didn’t you? Watching the dying animal turn to carrion, getting the best of it while he could. Then why are you acting like you’re a victim, Yone? Do you really think you’re allowed to be outraged? Where does this anger come from?”
“Where does it come from?” Yone gritted his teeth before speaking. “Everything pointed to the fact that he was begging to destroy himself. They said he was taking drugs to an unacceptable level, and they said Zed was minimizing the truth to protect Kayn. You said it would just be a consequence, and that he was nothing but a beast to tame for a while. This is all very, very different!”
“Are you telling me that this would be different? Did you want me to think you would commiserate? You spent several months plotting a scam against someone you slept with, talked to, someone who trusted you. K'Sante let you into his life, let his guard down, and you did what you did to him. What's changed now, Yone? What is the difference? Why do you suddenly care? I should have stopped you when you wanted to go talk to Zed. The girlfriend test was just to confirm. You have lost your way.”
Yone didn't respond at all. He sighed, swallowed hard, and listened to the squeezed beat of his heart trapped in his ribcage.
"I’m just looking into an alternative. He has it in him, he can blow up again, I’m sure of that and we don’t have to just be leeches in this whole process." The manager just sighed. He didn't fight back when he didn't have a very safe place where to stand.
“You know what, Yone, I don't care anymore. What I want is my money. Make him stand up and blow up, recover our losses and make Kayn an absolute success again, or sink everything at once into complete and total failure for us to deal with the fine for the termination of his contract. You can no longer do one, then another; you need to take a side. I put up with this lukewarm middle ground while K'Sante still hadn't signed it all. But I'm running out of patience. If you keep sitting on the fence, it means loss, and if we take a loss, it's you who will pay, in every sense of the word .”
***
Sunday night came in a blink and, at the same time, throughout the eternal length of a sleep paralysis. Kayn had to be strong not to throw things against the houskeepers who came to check on him a thousand times that day. He had been high, but was still unable to sleep too much, too scared by his own violent discarrilled trains of thoughts. He couldn't believe he had the world screaming his name when all he saw was extravagant furniture and artificial light, and when he was under his blankets cold sweating, hugging his legs and shutting his eyes.
He successfully ruined everything, and it was taking him everything not to get up from that bed, break the floor tiles and do something even more stupid.
That was when his phone vibrated by his nightstand; his first impulse was to raise his head and check who was calling, even though he knew he wouldn't answer if it was who he thought it was. However, he didn't recognize the number; he reached for the device, sitting on the side of the bed, held it and frowned, touching the screen to answer it.
"Hello?"
“Shieda, is there anyone with you?”
Kayn's eyes widened immediately, heart racing, and it took him a second to respond.
“Z-Zed?”
It was Zed. Zed, his former agent, that firm voice that used to guide his actions, came over the line, and hearing it again felt like a false ringing in his head. He sat down immediately.
“How long, Shieda.”
Immediately after Zed's sentence, Kayn took the phone away from his ear and hung up.
Grabbing the phone with both hands until his knuckles went white, he remembered the call he had made, some time ago. He was sure he had said a lot of embarrassing, desperate and childish things, but he couldn't remember. It had been a long time, and he had been under the influence of a lot of drugs when he had done it. However, one of the phrases he had said had stuck in his memory; it had been one of those fragile confessions he always regretted making.
You once said you could be a father figure for me, but you can't even pick up a phone and ask me if I’m alive. Now I see, yeah, you were right, you're just like my parents. I’m only worth anything while I’m useful to you. But what was I expecting? You’re all hypocrites, and you're just another one of them.
His phone rang once again and he hesitated to answer it. He let it ring, vibrating inside his hands, and he shuddered as if it had spreaded to his entire body. The call was repeated, and, without understanding why, he found himself answering it. He didn’t say anything; Zed just listened to his breathing on the other end of the line.
“Please, Shieda, don’t hang up, this is really important. I know, I know I should have made this call a long time ago, but understand, I couldn't. And they changed your number at least five times.”
“Why are you calling, Zed? I called you weeks ago, and if it were up to you, I would have already overdosed and/or killed myself. I no longer want your intervention. I've already found someone else, who, like you, pretends to care enough to make me feel appreciated; but now I know how to deal with him.”
“Your way of dealing with Yone is to get drunk and drive? You need help."
The sentence was tense and accusatory, but Zed's tone was neither one nor the other. It seemed almost melancholy.
“Did you decide to call only to judge me, Zed? Fuck you, Zed, just FUCK YOU!”
“I’m not judging you, Shieda. I’m just really worried and I regret something I did. You have to know.”
“What was it this time?”
“Yone reached out to me a few weeks ago, I don’t know if you know. I..."
“You told him everything you know about me.”
“No, not everything. Just what I thought would be for the best if he’s dealing with you, so that he wouldn’t mess with what he shouldn’t and hurt you even more.”
The singer scoffed bitterly.
"Of course."
“Still, that’s no excuse. The thing is, I needed to get you off cocaine, and I know why you do drugs. It isn’t to feel better.”
“Okay, Zed, go find something to do. I’m not having that conversation.” Kayn once again put down his cell phone and almost finished the call.
"DO NOT TURN OFF!" Zed's voice was heard loudly over the phone, even far from the singer's ear. “LISTEN TO ME, Kayn, PLEASE!”
Kayn looked away from the screen and his thumb trembled to turn off the cell phone again. However, he put it back on his ear with a sudden movement.
“Your time for giving me psychological analysis is over, Zed.”
“Are you in love with him?”
“Shut the fuck up. You’re a fucking cunt and I don’t owe you any explanations.”
“I don't trust him, Shieda. I swore that it wouldn't happen, I swore that someone as empty and superficial as Yone would never make you feel-”
"No."
Zed was interrupted and stuttered once before he started to say something; but his words were run over by Kayn's, who had a linear and direct tone.
“Yone is not empty. Yone is a spoiled playboy, an arrogant, cunning heir; but are you the one going to blame him for not wanting to dig deeper? It really hurts what we can find, so maybe it’s better for him to remain superficial.”
“Do you really believe this? Do you believe in him?”
"I don't know. Maybe. I’ll never let him know that, but I think so. It doesn’t really matter. He’s here, unlike you, and what I feel about it doesn’t really matter.”
“He’s a freeloader, Shieda.” Zed had taken on a fatherly voice that sounded familiar and nostalgic to the singer. “I don’t want you to get hurt anymore, he can and will drag you down. You do not deserve it."
"I do deserve it.” Kayn responded, throwing his body onto the bed. “If that’s your concern, don’t have it. It’s me who’s probably taking him down with me, not the other way around. As per today.”
“Your voice is killing me, Kayn. You should know, you’re the only person you should be worried about and taking care of today.”
“Did you call just for this obnoxious little pep talk?”
“I wanted to ask you something, but… I need you to keep calm. If you don't want to do it, just tell me 'no' and we'll continue the conversation. I have more to tell you.”
The singer sighed deeply.
"Say it."
A painful sigh on the other end of the line.
“Is Ezreal’s note still in my old things?”
A silence fell and all Kayn did was swallow hard.
"Shieda?" Zed called out at the stillness he received in response.
"Probably." Kayn just replied. "Why?"
“Is there any way you can get it? They took everything I had, even the files with the pictures were moved. I needed the number Ezreal had put there.”
Kayn got up from the bed and faced the curtains once again. He didn't want to pick up that note to read again. However, he didn't even need to; he had engraved in his mind every press of the pen on that crumpled paper. Even the number.
Two sides to a story,
but they never tell my
side .
The Prodigal Explorer
03162010
It didn't make sense to Kayn, but he just didn't think about it anymore. He had already lost too much sleep over that; there came a point where it no longer mattered. Just like that phone at the end of the note, which had never worked. It had never worked, why would Zed be asking this now?
Would Zed have gotten any more information?
“Zed, what did you find? Were you able to call that phone?”
“We’re onto it, but I still can’t confirm it.”
“What do you mean you fucking can’t ?” Kayn's voice then roared through his throat. “You come back with this thing that never made sense to me and has tormented me for this entire fucking year since Ezreal died and say it all like it's no big deal? If you know something new, I have the right to know!”
“No, Shieda, you don’t! Look at you! Everything involving Ezreal makes it feel like you're going to explode! I promise you I’ll go through everything for you, but I can't tell you anything without knowing that you are safe."
“I won’t tell you anything, then.”
“Shieda, please.” Zed took a pleading tone. "You need trust me. I always looked for the best for you, I always wanted to help you.”
“YOU FUCKING LEFT! You went to your vacations, you fucking left, Zed! It’s your right, just live your goddamn life without me destroying everything for you, but LEAVE ME ALONE!”
“I’VE NEVER LEFT YOU, SHIEDA! That’s what I’m trying to tell you! I’ve never stopped looking after you in every way that I can, I’m not abandoning you!”
That was a low blow, and it felt like the words were choking Kayn.
“This is something that matters TO ME, Zed! You are not my protector, you are not my father, you are not even my agent anymore. IT’S NOT YOUR FUCKING LIFE! IS IT TOO HARD TO UNDERSTAND?”
“Sorry, Shieda. I’m thinking about what’s best for you. I just-”
Kayn had hung up the phone, and didn't answer it again when Zed called again.
***
As he walked through the lobby of Kayn's mansion, Yone just stared at the tablet in his hands. Yone hadn't had any time to stop and think. He was afraid of when he did. He asked the housekeeping for where Kayn was and found out that he was in the studio. Once again he crossed the house to that private studio, counting his steps so as not to keep his mind empty.
When he entered, he felt that the tie was tightening around his neck, even though it was loose. The singer was sitting by the drums. He had two drumsticks in his hands and released them to vibrate on the drums and cymbals. Without strength, without enthusiasm, eyes diving into the gold of the instrument's details and remaining there.
Yone closed the door and left his belongings on the nearest couch. He stopped at the beginning of the platform and put his hands in his pockets. Kayn sketched out some drum rhythms, some pretty elementary things he had learned, and said nothing; He didn't even look up at the manager. Then he realized he missed a beat, stopped and let his arms hang along his body, the drumsticks extending them.
“Are you just going to look at me without saying anything?” Kayn finally raised his voice.
Yone took a step forward and still walked in silence halfway into the studio. The image of when the two of them had sex in there and also the times they jammed and made music both ran through his mind, as if all that existed inside them was desire and fury and passion. He stopped there and looked deeply at Kayn.
“I’m not judging you, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
The singer finally looked up.
“I’m not afraid of anything about you, Yone.”
Yone took more steps forward and gave a weak smile, stopping next to Kayn and the drums.
“I don't know if this is another one of your lies, but either way, I can't say the same. You scare me. You scare the hell out of me.”
“ On what do I scare you?”
“You push and then hug. You punch and then kiss. Everything in my life is linked to you and depends on you; but it’s the riskiest bet I’ve ever made in my life.”
Kayn turned his attention to the drumsticks in his hands again. He folded his arms, looked at them for a moment and then left them on one of the drums.
“What are you doing here, Yone?”
“You pushed me the last time we saw each other. I guess now I’m waiting for the hug.” Yone laughed weakly in mockery right after. He amended the sentence so that Kayn perceived the first as pure mockery. “I came to talk about next week’s rehearsals. To hear your opinion on them, and if you’ve been enjoying the songs.”
“Today? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Well, I also came to check on you, but if you’re hangover I can already assume you’re feeling like shit. But we have to move on. It’s no use wallowing about anything, I’ve already said everything I needed said.”
That was how he worked with pretty much everything. Yes, everything was a disaster, all he could see was wreckage, but life has to go on, always. That was what had made him excellent, and he couldn’t allow it to be any different.
No matter how scared he was, of even encountering Kayn’s pained gaze.
“No talking about the controversy ?”
“The controversy has already started, and we will need to be extra careful with the paparazzi; but we need to focus on the next step, always. The new album is a thousand times more important than that and I have to be sure that you’re still on.”
“Is K'Sante pressuring you?”
“We’re still facing the loss with the debt left over from True Damage. The story of the music video took a lot out of the production company, believe me; advertising, sponsorship and merchandising contracts have been canceled because of this. So the new album will be another massive investment; I need to know whether or not they will be able to do it to you, and I need to know to what extent I can trust the answer you will give me.”
Kayn just wanted to tell him to leave.
He knew why he drank the day before. If he had just smashed his car against a wall, maybe the accident would leave him where he deserves to be. Or if he took someone’s life with him, maybe he could finally snap and take his own as well. Once more, he had actually been lucky.
There was something inside of him that didn’t want to give up just yet. There was a demon roaring inside every time he felt like closing his eyes, one that would tell him he had to bite down life by the throat and suck its blood to make his own flow.
And maybe Yone would see it, that he had no future, but there he was.
“I don’t want you to get fired.”, he heard himself say the truth when he didn’t mean to utter it, and shut his eyes and lifted his shoulders like someone who hears the tires screeching and is about to watch a car crash.
Yone visualized a knife going into his own stomach and being swung around.
“That’s not what you should worry about, it’s your career.”
Yone reached out and looked at his own hand as it touched Kayn’s face. He witnessed as his touch made the singer grimace painfully, as if fingertips were ablaze. Still, he not only allowed the touch, but leaned his head on Yone’s hand. Heart clenching, Yone whispered.
“Let me help you, Kayn. Please.”
Kayn didn’t seem to listen. He raised his body a little and rested his knee on the stool he was sitting on. He wrapped his arms around Yone's waist and hugged him. His body was a little low, and the singer was able to rest his head on his chest, with a long sigh.
Yone's hands clenched tightly and, beyond that, he couldn't react at all. Kayn heard the manager's heart racing tachycardia and closed his eyes. He wanted to believe that those heartbeats were the whisper that said he wasn't lying. Kayn heard words from all sides, he heard them from his own mouth, he himself deceived and pretended, said and unsaid. Yone did the same, as naturally as it is for him to walk; but Kayn wanted to understand that, that unbridled heart, as a physical reaction, as a body that didn't lie, as someone who felt . The millions of contradictions, which always exploded in his head and clashed against each other, seemed to calm down for an instant when Kayn found something he thought he could believe in.
Yone then bowed down and cupped Kayn’s face with his hands, searching for the other’s mouth with his own. The lips pressed together made the singer's body soften and release his body into Yone's arms, wrapping his hands around the manager's neck, as if he had no choice but to surrender, every time. The kiss oscillated between hot and cold, between the soft touch of mouths and wet possession, between the lasciviousness of tongues and the violence of bites; but, above all, they were the corporeal representation of their conflicting and incongruous minds. Kayn had his hands tangled in the soft strands of his manager’s hair, and Yone with his arms gripping the singer's body to not allow even an inch of separation between their bodies; and that was exactly when Kayn broke the kiss and moved away, pushing away and disentangling as if he had been forcefully kissed that whole time. Noticing that sudden discomfort, Yone let go of the singer's torso and let his arms hang at his sides. When he realized how cold his hands were, he put them in his pockets and took a step back.
“Why?”
Yone just sighed, and Kayn also had a gasp strangling in his throat. He stepped aside, wiped his own lips and swallowed.
“Go get some rest, Yone.”
“Kayn, I beg you.” Yone's voice shook, and he looked down. “Don’t be so heavy on the punch I know you’ll give me the next time we meet. It's already...”
...it's already hurting enough.
Yone didn't say anything else. He instead gave his back and picked his briefcase to leave the studio. On the way, he breathed deeply as he walked, trying to bear the lump in his throat, the physical pain it caused. His lips were pressed to a line, and he was afraid to allow himself what his heart was screaming. He knew that if he let that happen just once, there would be no going back.
“Yone… I…”
He stopped as Kayn said.
“There's something I want to talk to you about. It’s… it’s about Ezreal. I need your help, I hope...”
...I hope I can trust you.
No, Kayn would never say those words. He walked away from the stool he had sat on and the drums he had been sitting in front of. He didn't finish the sentence or anything else; he walked stiffly towards the studio door. That would be the last unfinished sentence of the day, and the last sentence of his that would matter. He took the lead passed by Yone, who remained standing still with a contorted expression. He avoided him as if he were a pillar and left.
Alone inside the studio, Yone felt himself crumbling bit by bit.
He left the studio, the living room, he left every room of that maze wondering how big they could even get. He entered the parking lot and reminded himself that it was raining, now even harder. Maybe it would be good, maybe it would disperse the photographers and onlookers a little. He got into the car and, when the gate opened and he drove through, the dam inside of him started to crack and he wasn’t sure he had what it takes to hold the flood back now.
A sob rose in his throat, and he ground his teeth together again. He took a deep breath and grabbed the steering wheel. He knew why he lost sleep every night, but a long time had passed without him allowing himself even a single hesitation.
He accelerated the car a little too fast and didn't go home or to the office. He just needed to get out of there.
Admitting would hurt. It would hurt like hell. He needed to hold back, he needed to contain; damn the lump in his throat, the racing heart, the headache that seemed to want to burst the walls of his skull – he needed to bear it.
When he realized it, he had braked by an empty lookout, where the Pacific Ocean could be seen, now through the curtain of a billion water drops overwhelming his sight. It was where he and Kayn had eaten fast food together, before Kayn ruined the music video, somewhere he had probably just engrained in his memory without noticing. The rain burst onto the windshields and covered the immensity of the sea. It called for him; how easy it was to want to fall apart in the same way when you knew your heart was a heavy cloud.
Uncontrollably, he sobbed once more, and realized that his eyes were getting wet, and his chest hurt until it felt like it was going to tear. Regardless of whether the tears came out or not, his soul mourned the emptiness that it was. The manager leaned over the steering wheel and, with a few more sobs, burst into tears, feeling that something in who he was was breaking like the shattering of a crystal; of a beautiful and shining crystal vessel, filled to the brim with sweat, semen, plastic and leeches. He was a beautiful, immaculate vessel filled with absolutely no good.
He regretted the nights of sleep he lost, he regretted seeing everything only as far as the eye could see, he regretted his plans and his behavior patterns. He was limited, spoiled, superficial and ridiculous; he was the height of his ridiculousness. He was indifference, hypocrisy, falsehood and contracts, he sold his soul every day just because he didn't know what to do with it other than turn it into money. Each of his actions was premeditated and had begun as a cruel plan, and even if some genuine good intention had been planted afterwards, nothing on the outside would change, everything would continue to look like the same setup, because he was fake gold, he was a beautiful hollow statue, a heart that bled leachate. Everything had started as a farce and, in an unusual irony, as if fate had given him a sardonic sneer, he had only been left with one alternative: if he wanted, even just once, to be honest with himself, he would need to continue pretending.
Notes:
Hey! I've been having a rough couple of weeks so it would be lovely to read your thoughts on the story so far, whoever might be reading! Thank you for keeping up with this, writing this is surely the highlights on my routine and I'm always very happy to share it with you. I do hope you enjoy it as well! Next chapter is on the way as well, so I won't take as long as this one. See you soon!
Chapter Text
Monday had started as gray as Sunday had ended, in every sense of the word, and it continued that way. It was raining lightly, but the stormy bits were probably coming to an end.
He had had to assess what he could do with what he’s got. After what he would have called his little tantrum , Yone realized he had some things to do.
First, he had to sleep, as much as his body needs it, and that was the priority. So he had taken a pill as soon as he arrived home, trying his best not to look at his own face in any mirror of the house, because he couldn’t stand the mere idea of seeing his own eyes reddish from crying. He was just under pressure, there was no reason to be like that. He could take a lot more and the fact that he broke down was only telling him one important thing: Evelynn was right, he had strayed from his path because of what he feels for Kayn. That was the most shameful he’s been in and no one could ever, ever see him like that.
That thought was related to the second most important step, which was to get his shit together. But there was one choice to make.
He still had Kayn’s cocaine stash with him. If he just handed it back to Kayn, the singer himself could probably do the work for him. If he wants so badly to destroy himself, he wouldn't be able to stop him. He was getting tired of this mess, of repeating the same things, of betting on Kayn when Kayn himself makes every effort to ruin everything.
As he got up, it was past noon. Yone took a small hit of cocaine himself, not even enough to dilate his pupils, but enough to make him feel better again. After all, this is a dopamine issue, and what he’s developed for Kayn is exactly that; an addiction. But it’s one he can’t regret, and he’s in the phase where he doesn’t want to quit just yet, even though it’s on its way of destroying his life.
How can he quit it, after all?
He hadn't told Irelia when he was going to the office. The truth is that he never felt so little desire to get out of bed, not even when he was a teenager, but that was it for today; trying to control a falling plane, continuing to fight a won battle, keeping the bat in your hand even after the game is over. In other terms; living. Still, he did it. He ate well, even without much will to eat. He did his make up, his hair, he scheduled his hairdresser and solved whatever he could in calls inside his car.
He can't afford to feel sorry for himself. He chose the game and he decided to play, and he knew the stakes.
Yone watched his steps as he headed to his office as if he had pre-programmed it in his head. It was afternoon already, but his head was high, his makeup was flawless, as well as his outfit.
Irelia's voice, a little low, could be heard from the hallway. She was on the phone and she sounded concerned.
“... that I’ve told you. They haven’t given me the answer on the subject, so I don’t-...”
By the time he caught the phrase, Yone had already opened the door, and Irelia looked away at her boss who was entering, and immediately changed the sentence he was saying.
“...take that for granted, I will inform Mr. Yone.” Irelia turned to her desk and straightened out some papers.” Yes right. Yes, a great day for you, too, sir."
The assistant stood up, picking up her tablet, as she always did. Yone took two slightly weak steps forward and frowned.
"Good morning, boss. It was from your accountant.” Irelia got up and started a speech about adjustments in certain payments, about taxes and everything that an accountant would have told her. But Yone had looked away from the papers she'd gone through while she was on the phone.
“Okay, Irelia…” Yone cut the subject off and walked past her, ignoring her. He crossed the room, followed by his secretary as if she was his shadow.
Behind Irelia's desk was a black filing cabinet with three drawers. He opened the middle one and seemed to look for a folder. Meanwhile, his voice just became disinterested.
“I don’t want espresso today. Go to the Starbucks on the corner and get me a Macchiato. Three parts espresso, caramel sauce, double foam and cinnamon.”
“Do you need help finding something, sir?” Irelia looked back at Yone's hands and noticed that they were hesitating undecidedly between the folders inside the file. Yone then stopped, leaned against her table and gave her a poignant look.
“Are you waiting for Starbucks to deliver out of thought, Irelia? Get on with it, I don’t have all day.”
She hesitated once before muttering an “alright, boss” and turning away. Yone followed her with his gaze until she went out into the building's hallway and closed the door. Then he closed the file without taking anything inside, and his attention turned to Irelia's desk and her phone.
It took the shortest time possible for the assistant to return with the coffee, still panting from the quick steps she had used to speed up the process so she could get back to work. She entered the office with the cup in her hand, as Yone was already in his office.
She nnocked on the door. With a loose voice, Yone authorized her to enter.
“Here’s your coffee, sir.” Irelia reached over and placed the lidded cup on Yone's desk.
He didn't answer anything; he didn't even look at his assistent. Even as Irelia watched, he held the cup, opened it and poured its entire content into a potted plant that he had next to his desk. He threw the glass in the trash and turned his attention back to his computer, as if he hadn't done anything wrong.
Irelia clenched her fists and forced her voice to sound as natural as possible.
“Is there something wrong, sir?”
Yone finally looked up, and he didn't say anything to her.
“Wrong?" He smiled vigorously. “Everything is fine, Irelia. Everything is great .”
The assistant felt a genuine urge to swallow hard, but held back.
"I’ll be on my desk, then, sir. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call."
"Thank you very much." Yone's voice was warm and almost sweet. “You’re the best assistant one could have.”
As soon as the door was closed again and Irelia was out of her room, Yone's expression worsened again. He got up, locked the door and went back behind his desk, going back to his table and unlocking his drawer. From inside, he picked up the SIDE letter and closed everything again. He left it on his desk and gritted his teeth.
He knew whose number Irelia had been calling; since she didn't have time to delete it, it was in the history. And it definitely wasn't from his accountant. Same thing with the papers she'd been shuffling around while she spoke – she shouldn't have been researching that. Yone had already told her to stop.
Even with the order, however, what he found on her desk involved SAFE. The company that held a box from Ezreal and Kayn, and that Yone had ordered her to stop researching.
Apparently, she hadn't. It wasn’t the first time she was doing something behind his back, and he had to find out what it was.
A thought ran through his head.
Who am I to say anything about her?
He shook his head and realized that he would like to sign her resignation the moment she returned; but he wouldn't do it. Keep your friends close and that whole thing.
After all, now it was just a matter of watching her steps to see when she was going to give away everything out of desperation after what he had just done. Leave her with that doubt in her head. He also had to gain from it. Meanwhile, he was going to his files to make sure she had no access to anything critical. Closing his eyes, he could visualize the problems, but he didn't want to complain about them. An avalanche of possibilities poured into his mind and, distressing or not, they filled and occupied him.
There was one thing that mattered most, which was that damn envelope that he had been posponing for way too long already, and it was time to make sure it comes to an end.
He knew what solution he needed now. He knew who was interested in this matter, and who should decide and know. He reached into his pants pocket and took out his phone.
After it all, he had an online meeting with sponsors and a whole afternoon of work ahead. Which would just fly through, only problems and not a single piece of good news to appease him, but that’s how it is. He sighed deeply and ran his hand over the back of his neck, calling the number he would know by heart now.
He placed it on his ear and briefly rethought his decision, but didn't give up on it.
“I was already missing you controlling my every move.” Kayn answered with a joking tone, but quite endeared nonetheless . Yone couldn't help himself and smiled in response the moment he heard it.
“It’s been not much more than a day. You’re getting spoiled.”
“Call it Stockholm Syndrome.”
Yone chuckled.
"What are you doing now?"
"We were rehearsing. Akali brought us some sheet music, I suppose to take my mind off of what happened. You guys are funny.”
Kayn started commenting on the songs, and Yone couldn't stop him. He listened, leaning against his desk, and could have remained listening.
“...but you called for...?”
“Ah, well...” he cleared his throat. “I just needed to talk to you. Can you call me after rehearsal?”
“Don’t you want to come here and follow?”
"You want me to go?"
“No, I'm calling you because it's just like me to invite someone out of politeness.”
“Okay, I'm going.” Yone ignored his sarcasm.
He hung up the phone and only then realized that he had been smiling throughout the conversation. His lips loosened and his smile faded in embarrassment when he realized. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard.
Fuck.
He sighed and felt a tightness in his chest - he risked starting to think again. Before he did so, he placed everything he needed inside his briefcase. Then he put on his jacket and put the SIDE mail in the inside pocket.
When he left the room, he only spoke one sentence to Irelia as he walked across the office.
“I'm going to forward everything I have left for today to your email. Solve them, and solve everything that comes up here today. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“But I d-...” The secretary drafted a sentence, but not only was Yone almost at the exit door, he interrupted her.
"Everything." Yone repeated before leaving, almost slamming the door.
***
When Yone entered the first room of the studio, he recognized Kayn’s inscrutable voice. That hoarse, torn voice, which among its low tones seemed to growl out of the throat. However, it didn't feel like a rehearsal, after all, they weren't playing any of Kayn's songs or any new compositions. Maybe they'd already trained enough, Yone guessed; even if that were the case, they had already stopped doing so; they were playing Pentakill.
Yone left his things somewhere, put his hands in his pockets and stopped next to the window that separated the editing room from the studio itself.
That window used to have the curtains closed on the inside, but now they were wide open, and behind it, Yone could watch the band play. The other band members were focused on their instruments, and everyone played with propriety and synchronization. It made the music resounding, almost perfect, because Yone's ears were always too tuned to miss it.
He sighed and swallowed; yet another stormy thought like those of last night tore through his mind; this time, it was that not even music was musical to him.
Yone distracted himself from that and the other members, letting his eyes fall on Kayn, who was singing with his eyes closed. The letter of “Edge of Night” sounded visceral on his throat, intense, raw. The singer was a little sweaty and wore a black Pentakill T-shirt like your everyday fanboy.
So you have torn this world apart.
You came for our suffering,
so we'll bleed, cut us deep
Find the death that you seek.
He closed his eyes and in his mind he only separated that voice to listen to. Closed vowels and sung almost through teeth; in melancholic words that, when they opened, in the free sounds and choruses, caused a shiver to envelop the spine in those high and desperate tones. Opening his eyes, he sighed. That voice was no prodigy of the form, Kayn was no opera singer, yet he could sound brilliant, magnificent even, and it was hard not to be moved. He was read in his screamos and falsettos, in the improbability between cleanliness and hoarseness. And with his eyes closed, Kayn was smiling as he sang, and Yone’s chest hurt again – it had hurt pretty easily that day.
It was then Kayn's turn to open his green eyes; he looked at his manager on the other side of the reinforced window, and he kept the smile and nodded for him to enter. In silence and as the song ended, Yone opened the studio door and sat on the sofa in the corner, without saying anything.
When they finished, Yone clapped his hands and received a softly tired smile from everyone there.
“Your timing is excellent, guys.” Yone congratulated without cynicism. He stretched his arms along the back of the sofa.
Kayn pushed the guitar back and it spun on his torso, leaving it behind him as he took a long sip of water.
“Thanks, Yone. We’ve been at it since early morning.” The bassist then thanked him.
“The last one for today, then?” Kayn said.
That was it, Yone had thought. The energy that makes Kayn flourish is that one, raw and
Akali was quicker than he was with that, with this idea of just putting him inside the studio with the band, even though she must have known that she was supposed to at least talk to the manager before, since there was such a catastrophe right the day before.
But, well, it isn’t like Yone was respecting the lines between both their responsibilities to begin with, right?
She probably wanted to see if Kayn was able to have fun with music and go along with the band to begin with, before she continues with her work. Of course it probably might have sounded like bringing some kids to keep your bored little nephew entertained, but it’s the type of whim that is not even that big of a deal at this point.
And there they were, all of them with smiles in their faces.
They should keep that for a week at least.
And, yeah. When he can sing his heart out and play like a rockstar instead of a pop artist, that really hits the spot. That is when he can truly connect with what he was doing.
Kayn wasn’t aware of all that analysis, but he was aware of everything else in his own body. He loved feeling the vibration of the strings in his fingers, he loved the reverberation of his own voice in his head. This was ecstasy; but it was only so when it expressed something.
Maybe it was the same way Yone had felt – because he used to play the piano as if he were solving an equation, not as if he felt the cry in his soul. That time he did it next to Kayn, however, he felt that it was music, and there he only felt that his heartbeat was rhythmic with the beat of the song.
What was he doing there, anyway?
When the last chord was struck and stopped resonating, the thoughts came back to Yone's mind swarming like ants, and they didn't allow themselves to be analyzed. Still a little inebriated, he watched Kayn thank earnestly the three of them. Yone came back to reality and stood up, also thanked and waited patiently for everyone to pack their personal belongings.
As everyone left, Kayn sat on the floor and then lay down on it, his arms open. He sighed deeply and slowl..
Then silence. Yone walked quietly over to where Kayn was laid, and sat down on the floor next to him. He did not say anything. The singer then gave a weak laugh.
“This truly feels good.”
“It’s been a really motherfucking few weeks, I imagine it must be therapeutic.”
"You do know."
More silence, meanings trying to connect themselves.
“You’re taking care of your voice, aren’t you?”
“I am. Don’t worry." Kayn was lying on the floor breathing deeply; Some sweat appeared on his forehead, it wasn't much. “But you should get to the point. You said you needed to talk to me.”
It took Yone a few moments to decide that he really preferred not to have to talk about it.
“Yeah… I’m going to need to ruin the moment.” Yone raised his eyebrows.
Kayn sat down and frowned suspiciously.
“What was it this time?”
“Kayn, I need you to listen to me, and I need you to answer me.” Yone sighed, reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and took out the mail.
“You know I hate this talk, don’t you?” Kayn immediately became agitated and stood up.
“It has to do with Ezreal, but just hear me out.” Yone also rose to his feet. “I’m not going to ask you any questions, I just want to inform you of something.”
Kayn remained staring at him, even though his face trembled for a moment.
"Say it."
“The thing is, I have some information... and I'm afraid they're digging too much into your past.”
“Digging into what happened to me in the past wasn’t your work?" Kayn interrupted him.
Yone held the SIDE letter in both hands and handed it to Kayn. Mentally he policed himself; he needed to police himself and convince himself that he wouldn’t take seriously what Kayn would say from that moment on. He was very emotional about this subject, for an obvious reason.
The singer frowned and opened the mail. Yone placed his hands on his hips.
“Listen, you made me promise I wouldn’t dig more when we were at your house. And I didn’t. But this came to my office. I don’t want you to tell me what’s in there, I just want you to tell me if there’s any reason someone would want what’s in there. And we have to decide what to do about it.”
Kayn read that with a frown.
Dear Mr. Shieda Kayn
(...) on the account of a joint contract in the name of Mr. SHIEDA KAYN, bearer of identity number (...). This contract expires on the 31st of December of the present year, at 12:00 PM. Considering the current situation and death certificate of one of Miss. (...), hereby indicated by the social name EZREAL, the second contractor, we have reviewed the terms (...). If it is of your interest, we need the contract to be renewed by payment for the desired period until this date (...) or for the contents of box number 03162010 to be removed.
But the singer was just frowning and he gave Yone a confused look.
“I don’t…what is this?”
“It’s about the box you kept with Ezreal in Seattle at this company.”
“What the… Yone, what box?”
"What do you mean?"
“I don’t know about any box.”
"Your name and identity number are here.”
“Yes, I can read, Yone.” Kayn turned his face to the side and narrowed his eyes at Yone, then placed his eyes back on the mail. “The thing is, I’ve never been to this place before. I mean, Ezreal had worked at SIDE for some time. He... he told me that's how he was able to buy his own drums. He... before he...” the singer gave an ironic laugh; only one. “...Ezreal learned to play because he was part of the evangelical church band; imagine that .”
Yone smiled almost commiseratingly. He touched Kayn's shoulder while the otherlooked at the mail, keeping that frown.
“I haven't even met Ezreal and I already respect him a lot, just because of the way you talk about him.”
Kayn rolled his shoulders to push Yone's hand away, stepping to the side. He continued reading the letter and his eyes became more and more glassy. The manager put his hands in his pocket, frowning; He noticed that the singer was putting some pieces together in his mind and putting them together so that they made sense.
“This is the number from the note. 03162010.”
Kayn's green eyes swayed from side to side, and it was clear how his mind was working at full speed; he was searching his memory like someone emptying the entire contents of a closet and scattering them across the floor.
“So you don’t know what is in there.”
“Zed had...” Kayn said, and then that statement choked in his throat. The sentence died, and he began another. “Ezreal left me a note. A... suicide note. But it had nothing but a small part of the song I’ve shown you, Paranoia. The ‘side’ word was underlined."
It was an avalanche of emotions and memories that had already destroyed his ability to disguise himself at the beginning of the conversation. And Yone didn’t say anything about that. He didn’t want Kayn to know he also had put it together. Because, actually, he had never thought that Kayn wouldn’t know what the box was about. So he had to say what he was supposing now.
“Kayn, do you think Ezreal left you a box before….”
“...before he killed himself?” Kayn's breathing then became clearly heavy. “I don’t… I don’t know, Yone. I have no idea.”
Yone swallowed hard when he noticed how pale Kayn was. He took a step forward, towards him; in response, Kayn moved away a little and spread his hand, as if he didn't want the manager to get closer.
“Kayn, are you okay?”
“I’m… I am.”
“I didn't want to put you against the wall with news like this, but I have no other choice. I think there are people who want to know what’s there.”
“There definitely is.” Kayn looked away glazedly. "That was what I also wanted to talk to you about to begin with."
“If I come up with something for you to do in Seattle this weekend – a concert, a performance, a charity, anything – would you go with me there? I'll talk to LeBlanc and I know she can get to get us an authorization for you to leave the county even under legal process, but I'll need some time. Would you go there with me to get out whatever’s in there?”
Yone waited for Kayn to hesitate, but the answer came immediately, accompanied by an intense and vehement stare.
"Absolutely. If Ez has left anything for me, and he had made sure to make it as hard as possible to find out, it’s not for anyone else to know but me.”
Chapter Text
Even though Yone had thought that Kayn would go off the rails after the news, he had shown the absolute opposite behavior. They had to get everything ready first, so his directions for Kayn was that he kept on working well with Akali, otherwise it would get in the way. So that was what Kayn did. He worked without a single tantrum. Also without a single smile, but it was good enough for everyone.
Also, they had barely touched each other that week, and not that they didn’t miss it.
As Yone checked, the process for having the contents removed and shipped to them might take longer for the authorization process, since there were specific clauses on the contract about exclusive personal removal, so it was quicker to have LeBlanc get the authorization for Kayn to leave L.A. for a couple of days, technically for a medical appointment.
The end of the week would come fast, yet dragging like nails in the chalkboard. Eventually they would be arriving at the private terminal, away from the main passenger area, since they would go with a light freight jet instead of the regular aircrafts. The whole drive to the airport had been silent, as Kayn was wearing earbuds, the hood of his hoodie was covering his head even though it wasn’t cold and reflective sunglasses covered his eyes even though the day was cloudy and it was already sunset. He leaned his head back on the car seat and he could be sleeping, although Yone would bet that he wasn’t.
Once there, they were greeted by a representative in a dark blue tailleur suit and invited to relax at the VIP Lounge, where Kayn’s behavior was similar; however, he was staring at the screen of his phone, scrolling, while their documents were checked. They would have to wait about fifteen minutes there, and they were offered some beverages; Yone accepted a cappuccino and Kayn just promptly denied.
Then they were alone at the small lounge, sitting in two separate armchairs side by side.
“How are you feeling, Kayn?” Yone had to ask, as the silence was increasingly uncomfortable.
It took Kayn a while to answer, and when he did, he first took his earbuds off and put them in his pocket. He seemed to be reading something from the screen of his phone.
“Shieda Kayn, once a beloved figure in the music industry, keeps quickly tarnishing his legacy through a series of reckless behaviors. Known for his outstanding, raw live concerts, what we see recently are performances that have been lackluster at best. Fans, who once adored him for his charisma and talent, are now left disappointed and disillusioned. It seems as if Kayn no longer values the support and adoration that propelled him to stardom, if he ever did. Instead of delivering the high-energy, visceral shows that once defined his career, he is giving subpar performances that show a blatant disregard for his craft and audience .”
Yone was rubbing his eyes. He knew where it was from, it was The Profetess article that had basically been the script for a less formal, more accusative viral voiceover video that’s been circulating.
“I’ve read the article, Kayn. It's so soulless it looks like AI've written it. It went viral, yes, but give it two weeks and everyone will move on. You shouldn't be diving into it. Being online is usually just for piling up stress.”
But it was as if Kayn didn’t even listen to him.
“Adding insult to injury, Kayn’s interactions with fans have become increasingly hostile. Reports of him mistreating those who come to see him, whether through rude remarks or dismissive attitudes, are becoming more common. This behavior is not only unprofessional but also deeply disrespectful to the very people who have supported him throughout his career. Furthermore, this recent incident of drunk driving highlights a disturbing pattern of irresponsibility and recklessness. By endangering himself and others, Kayn is not only risking his career but also setting a dangerous example for his followers. It’s time for Shieda Kayn to reassess his actions and remember the responsibilities that come with his fame. ”
Lowering his phone, he stared at Yone as if he expected something from him. Yone had no idea what it was, so he just sighed.
“Well, what do you think about it?”
“I think that you must be tired.” Kayn smirked, a bit too uncanily.
Yone shrugged and it took him a moment to answer.
“A bit, if it matters. But it's part of my work. I still think you’re improving and I can't expect you to get better overnight. We’ll work on it together.”
“You keep harping on the same point.” Kayn lowered his phone and sunk a bit more into the armchair, staring at the ceiling.
Yone didn’t answer straight away. Instead, he picked his own phone on his pocket, scrolling and tapping the screen a few times.
“If you are interested on the article, I wanted to read you something else. Another viral post about the article itself.”, he said as he tapped a bit more and found a couple of things. “It’s from a fan of yours.”
Kayn looked at him as Yone started reading.
“ I know we don’t truly know a celebrity. I know the fact that I’ve been a Shadower since the beginning and I love Kayn with all my heart shouldn't make me sweep his behavior under the rug. He is a powerful person that influences people with means and money and I know he has to truly answer for his actions. Also, I know you all just want blood and won't allow any excuses.
I've been in every one of his shows in New York, and it’s been out of this world. In his first works he sang about passion and sacrifice, about love in such a raw, wholehearted way. Now he keeps on singing about a romantic love we never hear of, half-heartedly, from a technically excellent, yet shallow album with twelve producers that sold so much but any true fan knows it feels empty.
I don't see any of his actions as true disrespect. I see it as something way worse for me. He looks tremendously sad, and it shatters my heart. He has to face the consequences, as he put other people in danger, but for me it truly feels like he is the one who really is in danger, and the danger is himself. Am I the only one who thinks that? Whenever he’s seen out of stressful situations, he seems friendly, playful, like those stories about him meeting the workers at Wendy’s. But nowadays it feels like he’s just about to snap and it truly hurts me so much to see him like this.
I truly hope he finds his spark once again. He may not believe it, and you all might disagree with me and I don't care, but he deserves it. He’s truly come from nowhere and with nobody to back him up and he’s one of the last true artists out there who put his heart into the music he made, and it might cost him everything.”
Through the sunglasses lens, it was hard to pick the whole look in his expression, although he was pouting. Yone lowered the phone and Kayn sighed, back to sinking into the armchair. So the manager insisted.
“So? What about these for you?”
He looked away and huffed.
“I’ll tell Akali that we should go for some songs about how sad and rich I am and how many drugs I’m on. That kind of thing just takes off. Maybe if I turn into a fucking rapper like Sett wanted to be.”
“Your former bandmate Sett?”
“Yeah.” That was all Kayn answered.
“ Are you on drugs, though?”
“I’ve been zonked out with weed and meds lately to forget I want to go to your house pick my cocaine back. You have talked to Jinx anyway.”
“It’s not like I can really stop you from getting drugs. It’s a choice you’re making.”
“And snapping somewhere all the time from the backlash of these same choices. Maybe this fan has a point.”
“I think she does. You do deserve to find your spark again.”
That time, Kayn didn’t retaliate, neither seemed bored. Through a glimpse through the opening of the hoodie in his neck, Yone saw him swallowing hard. But the flight was ready for boarding and the representative approached again with the people to take their luggage and load it while they are escorted for private security screening.
Yone had his coat and briefcase in his hands when they boarded the plane, and followed the singer to their seats. Two armchairs arranged gently diagonally, wide and spaced, completely reclining, in light tones that are warm to the eyes.
Nothing was said other than interjections, and they allowed themselves to listen to the stewardess's instructions. The plane took off, glided; Kayn tilted his seat a little and finally raised his voice, a little weakly, to say something else.
“I can’t believe I’m going to Seattle.”
Yone tilted his seat to the same height as the singer's next to him, and turned his face towards him.
“And does this sentence have a good or bad meaning?”
“I just can't believe I'm going to get things from my past, whatever the fuck it is. I’m not- fuck, I never wanted to look back, I'm so fucking anxious. Anyway, my life is enough of a showcase, no one should get into something that was meant for me and Ez only. You is enough.”
“You know, Kayn, I don't know what you're thinking, but I'm not digging into your past. If I say I'm not curious, it's a lie; but I understand how much you care about it.”
“Whatever. You’ve also been holding this away from me for a while. I don’t know what you were planning to do about it if I hadn’t mentioned Ezreal.”
“Sorry, Kayn. It isn’t like that, for real. It’s just… I’m a little afraid of your reaction when it comes to him.”
"Everyone is." Kayn looked away, through the round window. "I am."
“And I'm not making light of it, I don't think it's exaggeration on your part. You know I know what it’s like to lose someone close to me.”
Kayn released a loud breath.
“I’ve been a dick to you about that before and I’m sorry about it, but also don’t use your brother as an empathy technique, Yone. It’s hard not to think you’re a complete jerk when you do it.”
“It’s not a technique. I’m just saying that I understand.”
That brought a grin to Kayn’s face and he looked back at his manager.
“It’s fun how socially awkward you can get when you’re trying to actually bond.”
“At least you finally believe I’m being honest.”
Slowly, the singer’s grin withered in his face.
“And who’s to get anything good from that, huh?”, he said as he adjusted his earbuds once more, easily understood as him not wanting to continue the conversation.
While being honest, Yone wouldn’t know how to answer. Not that he couldn’t arrive to an answer, it was more like he wouldn’t want to utter them. So it was probably for the best that the rest of the trip was silent between the two of them.
***
The young man carrying Kayn's and Yone’s luggage stepped into the grand foyer that leads into a spacious living room adorned with plush sofas and sober and modern furniture, on the tenth floor. They are in a two-bedroom presidential suite shaded in a palette that ranged from terracotta to bronze, its pale gold in the cushions on the sofas and the fringes of the goose-down pillows. The living room seamlessly transitions into a formal dining room, and adjacent to it there is a fully-equipped kitchenette. On the opposite side, Elliot Bay and the Olympic mountains stretched out in the still night view of the huge windows framed by long brownish-gray curtains.
The porter was young, perhaps new to the job; he seemed nervous, even though Kayn certainly wasn't the only celebrity who had stayed there. He left Kayn's belongings on a low counter, looking a little dazed, and said something procedimental in a way too fast voice before leaving the two of them.
Both were thinking of the last time they shared a suite, with about the same bittersweet taste to it.
They missed it. They missed it and as they walked around it felt like a pointless dance.
“So…” Yone put his hands in his pockets and headed to the counter near the internal communication. “...we should get some dinner. I’ll order us something.”
“I’m not hungry.” Kayn threw his body on the couch, always hoping that Yone would approach but doing everything so that he wouldn’t. His hoodie was now down, and he wasn’t wearing sunglasses.
“Me neither, we’ve eaten on the plane. But I’ll order it anyway.”
“Please, don’t. We’ll grab something from the fridge if we need it. I don’t want anyone to annoy us anymore.”
That plea had sounded truly wholehearted and exhausted, and, much to Kayn’s anguished relief, Yone indeed approached him. He sat down on the couch beside him, at hand’s reach.
Kayn breathed in and Yone’s scent and wondered how engrained it was already, and if he’d remember him if he breathed in the smell of true fresh wood instead of those expensive perfumes and shampoos with wooden notes in them. It’s been a while since he had last breathed in something natural, but he wouldn’t miss it as much as he did to Yone’s skin. Melting close to him felt as natural as he would get, and his hand found Yone’s thigh before he could notice that Yone’s hand was leading to his hair to caress it. They met halfway languidly, but once more not truly able to put the blame on any of them if not in both for them to be kissing yet again.
Yone slid up to Kayn’s lap as swiftly as possible, as if it’s just the obvious destination while he felt the hands trailing slowly down his shirt; while Yone felt himself eager, cupping Kayn’s face and slowly moving his hips back and forth, the singer was unhurriedly releasing each button as if he wanted to drag the moment as much as he could. The mismatched pace even made Yone frown and break the kiss to check on Kayn’s expression for a trace of dismay, only to see him look up beseechingly and lean in begging with his eyes for more, searching for his lips like a moth blindly drawn to a lamp, unaware and uncaring if it would end up burning to death. The way his tension soothed gradually with the pressure over him wasn't coherent with the crescent yearning inside him. He wanted his presence, the shadow beside him, that shiver Kayn would feel even before hearing his voice or taking out his clothes like he was doing it now. He wanted his metallic, unbendable strength, the earthquakes he's got for heartbeats and the cornerstones he's got for bones. He wanted his body on top of his like he was now, claiming him with an insufferable tenderness that was his privilege only. Kayn wanted him holding his wrists, interlacing their fingers or just hooking just one on one of his.
For Yone, it was completely more outrageous to be against a body of a Kayn that didn’t tease him, didn’t scoff at him or grinned; yet seemed to crave him unprecedently, didn’t allow him to move away. It was like a rite that summoned demons within them – so much so that soon the two could no longer contain themselves. Yone closed his eyes and let out visceral moans every time he felt filled, orgasmic, torrid, hoarse, delirious. Their energies crumbled and their bodies shook too much for them to continue to understand where their bodies began and ended.
Throughout a couple of hours, they pulled each other to the edge and beyond like they just couldn’t stop before exhaustion. They only had a water break before they were entangled back again on the bed of one of the rooms, and by the end the two were lying on the bed as if they were unable to return to reality, as if they were inanimate and the only reason they had left was to manage their uncontrollably heaving breaths. Yone and Kayn stared at each other, in disbelief, appalled, dizzy.
“That was- wow.” Yone just said, his eyes fixed on Kayn's reddened lips and flushed cheeks.
“I won’t have the strength to get hard after all this for a month.” Kayn murmured weakly with a breath of voice.
Yone laughed, out of breath, turning onto his back. The singer, panting, dragged his body closer to the other on the bed.
“If I can walk tomorrow I think it’s good enough.” Yone raised his arm so that Kayn cuddled up to his side. The singer rested his head on the other's chest and wrapped his arm around his body, hugging him.
“Are we going to take a shower?”
"For sure. Just wait for my legs to get back to normal.”
Kayn blinked slowly and closed his eyes. He heard Yone's heartbeat and felt the air tighten in his lungs. The manager caressed the singer's back weakly, slowly calming his breathing. All they did was bring their naked bodies closer together on the bed, in a warm, almost wet embrace. The singer placed a leg over Yone's, who tightened the hug a little more, bringing Kayn closer to him.
Knowing there weren’t much left to hide or much more to deny, Kayn gathered up courage to speak up.
“What is this we get when we have sex, Yone?” he ran his hand down Yone's chest and curled his fingers around his waist. “Desiring so much, coming so hard. I'm going to sound stupid now, but I... it’s different. I think you get me.”
Yone took a moment to answer.
“At first, I would say chemistry . Intensity. That spark we had. Anger that turned into dispute, that turned into provocation, that turned into desire, that turned into…”
The manager swallowed hard; Kayn could hear.
He didn't say anything more. His heart accelerated a little and he lifted the hand that was hugging Kayn to caress his blond locks.
“That turned into a complete and total loss of control.” Kayn added in a harsh, thick voice.
Yone looked out the window. From the tenth floor, where they were, and lying in bed, I could only see the night sky of Seattle.
He had a reputation to uphold, he had media to take care of, a shower to take, a place to go, things to do, a room to tidy up. He had to admit it, even if not completely, not in every detail.
“It is. For me it’s a loss of control because when we’re together, I don’t want to think about anything else.”
“And it’s ironic, because it’s also you who makes me think about a lot of things I don’t wanna.” Kayn completed as if it were the perfect reproduction of Yone's thoughts.
Squinting his eyes, Yone inhaled deeply, until there was no more room for air in his lungs, and he sighed.
"We are very similar, aren’t we?”
Kayn pressed a kiss on Yone’s sweaty chest.
“For your sake, I really hope not.” Kayn felt like he was being swallowed by quicksand, but he just allowed it, as it would be worse if he struggled. “But you make it easy to forget the reason I say this. And the last thing I want is to get out of this bed and remember.”
They really had a lot to do, but they chose to let the sleep that enticed them take over their body and consciousness. Or Kayn would soon come to the conclusion that he was the quicksand that swallowed everything around him, and the more they struggled against it, the faster and deeper they sank, and he was about to know more about a past that only haunts him in the very next day. Or Yone would go back to thinking that nothing in his past justified the things he does and nothing he had done in his life would truly affect him; simply because hollow containers couldn’t sink.
Chapter Text
The rented blue Veracruz was imposing, but didn't attract much attention. Yone drove at a constant and moderate speed through the city streets while Kayn didn't take his eyes off the window. This time, though, he didn't seem to just be looking. He was seeing, he was apprehending, he was anxiously searching. His eyes wavered wherever they went, and they begged for something no one would ever hear.
Yone glanced at Kayn and he didn't have many words to give now, what was always a frightening conclusion, even if he was getting used to it. So he placed his hand on Kayn’s thigh beside him, the firmness bringing the singer back to reality within the unlikely, invisible sweetness of a traffic moment in downtown Seattle.
They stopped at a traffic light. A cloud had covered the sun and a diffuse glow reflected in Kayn's eyes as he looked inside the car again, at Yone, sitting next to him. Yone felt weak again. His eyes were lost in the immensity of Kayn's and he secretly knew he was lost too.
"What is it?" Yone found himself asking before considering whether he wanted to know, or if he should.
"I... before we go to SIDE, is there any way we can stop by somewhere?"
"Where?"
"I just want to know if it still exists."
Yone frowned for just a moment, but nodded.
"Okay, just tell me where it is."
***
"You know I don't disagree with you, Evelynn. He’s off his rails, just like Kayn." Akali crossed Evelynn's room once again. Evelynn wondered silently what was wrong with the promoter just sitting there. "Still, he is making a change, as far as anyone can. Something not even Zed could."
"I know that." Evelynn confirmed as she typed a few things on her laptop, fingernails clicking against the keyboard.
"I mean, of course Kayn is a mess, but it’s like he regrets the shit he does now. I can't deny that. This week was unbelievable, he didn't even throw a single temper tantrum in the middle of rehearsals, he was listening to me, he was following the rules and he was being kind to the band. Do you remember how I has told you they were fighting, and I thought I would have to replace them?
Looking a bit bored, Evelynn sighed accompanying the pacing around of the restless producer in front of her.
"I want to keep trusting Yone's competence, but it's getting really difficult. He hasn't returned any of my calls since Thursday."
"I remember when you said there was no way to save Kayn because he didn't want to get better. I know what I've been saying, but… that thing again, what if Yone is really what Kayn needs right now?”
Evelynn stopped what she was doing and turned with her whole body on the chair to face Akali.
“Did you know they’re both in Seattle now?”
Akali stopped on her tracks and frowned.
“What? Why?”
“Well, I knew that.” She leaned on her desk. “That because I know what I'm talking about. It's because of people like me that this shit works, and not because of people like you. It's not the musicians, it's the managers. But Yone? He can be both, and if you don't open your eyes, he can replace you, too. Technically, he’s got an even better résumé than yours, what happens to you if he decides to charm the rest of the board? Don't be silly in imagining he would have any qualms about taking your place, too, mostly now that Kayn trusts him way more than he trusts you. If he wants your spot, you’re gone the next week. And they’re onto something, so you better listen to me.”
Akali swallowed hard, pouting, and it took her a couple of seconds, but she nodded.
“What do you need from me?”
“Now that you and your employees will be keeping an eye on Kayn with production and rehearsals, any changes in Kayn's attitudes must be reported to me. I can't take Yone out for now, because he's the balance in the situation he created. But he better not even dare allow anything to go wrong. If our underwear model wants to keep acting rebellious, so be it; but I hope he knows very well what he's doing, what he's betting on. We can't allow ourselves to have a little gay couple in love walking a media tightrope, one slip away from another scandal, just because they can't keep their hands off each other."
***
The place Kayn opened the door to was dotted with dark green tones and, if it weren't for the brands of beer displayed on the shelves and the shy pictures of four-leaf clovers, no one would have known it was an Irish bar. A step-high elevation, which formed the stage pathways, boasted a solitary high bench in front of a pedestal. Behind the bar, there were band posters, so old that they were whitish, and the lack of natural light left a recycled haze of whiskey and humidity in the air.
There were two men sitting, each at a table, silent and flushed; even if they were young, they were probably habitual drunks. Some rock songs were playing at a low volume, and the bartender himself was sitting behind the counter playing on his cell phone.
Kayn took a few steps to the center of the bar, his sneakers stepping almost inaudible on the plank floor. He was wearing sunglasses and his hoodie on his head once more, not to draw attention to himself. He put his hands in his pockets and looked around. His sigh of stale air rose above the hiss of the music.
"Is Tommy still running this place?" Kayn turned to the bartender while Yone looked around the place.
The boy finally took his eyes off his cell phone, but still without fixing them on Kayn.
"Tommy sold it here about two years ago. We've been under new management for a while."
"You guys kept the place looking good."
"The new owner was just raising money, he's going to redo everything here. It's a place with a very good location to continue as it is."
All Kayn replied was a ’ oh yes’ mumbled, almost a groan. The bartender then continued staring, narrowing his eyes. The singer turned his back and leaned against the counter, and the young man stepped to the side to continue checking the singer. He knew he knew him; he just didn't seem to believe it was him. Kayn hadn't even noticed. He once again captured for himself the room he was in and his eyes were years away from there.
"I stood strong, I was honor bound. I stand defiant, I stand ever proud. I am the chosen. I am the guardian, the guardian .” Kayn muttered the song by himself, still looking around.
"I'm sorry, but are you by any chance...?" The attendant approached from behind the counter, touching Kayn's shoulder with two fingers.
"Yeah, that’s me." Kayn retaliated immediately.
"Can I-?" The bartender drafted a sentence, but was interrupted by the singer.
"No, you can't."
Yone put his hands in his pockets and approached Kayn while the bartender took two steps back, cornered.
"We can't stay here for long-..." he spoke close to his face.
"I know... I know. Just wait a little."
Yone sighed and rolled his shoulders to ease the tension in his muscles. It was just the kind of thing Yone needed to say. He didn't even want Kayn to leave, he didn't want to break his spell – which wasn't even passionate or anguished, but was just a torpor that made a veil under his green eyes.
Kayn walked to the middle of the small room and put his hands in his pockets. He was still looking around.
“I can’t believe Tommy sold this place.”
“Did you know the previous owner?”
“Yeah, I knew him.” Kayn let out a shaky chortle “He was a good-natured Irishman, a character. He adored Ez, and he came here every weekend with Sett and Aphelios. This was my first performance in front of an audience."
"With Heartsteel?"
"No, I was alone." Kayn pointed to the small stage in the corner. "There, I sang mostly Pentakill songs and some other more. Everyone was stoked, jumping around and singing with me. Drunk people do it with anyone, but it was still… yeah. It felt awesome.”
"Your first audience, vibrating because of your music. It must be unforgettable." Yone followed Kayn's gaze around.
"It's been a while." Kayn managed a smile, then sighed, and his grin became ironic. "Wow, it's been about seven years."
Yone stood beside him and watched the memories rush into Kayn's eyes, and he was afraid of how long they would be too much water for the dam to hold back. The singer pointed again.
"There at that counter, Ezreal asked me if I had a band, and if I had ever thought about having one. He commented that they did, that the bassist even knew how to play the guitar, but that they needed a vocalist – so much better if it was someone who knew how to play."
Yone looked back to where he was pointing and tried to imagine, even if he didn't even know what Ezreal looked like, even if he didn't know anything that had happened at that time. He tried to formulate something in his mind, and all he had was Kayn's expression; the memories, these only belonged to the singer: the freezing Seattle night, the stuffy air between people, the shouted conversation, the beers.
"You found on the other side of the country, the man who was going to change your life."
There was something about Kayn that wanted to smile when he looked up at the ceiling; the same ceiling he had looked at when he woke up after being knocked unconscious by a blow from Ezreal. Something wanted to smile as vigorously as it wanted to tear; It was as if blood was pulsing in the poorly healed, poorly sutured walls of a wound.
"What would I be today if I had said no, Yone?"
Yone shook his head before responding.
"I think we'd go crazy if we started asking those kinds of questions."
"For sure." Kayn looked away. "Even because that wasn't the yes that ruined my life. This one was what saved it. This is not the yes that I would like to take back."
The sentence hovered beneath the haze of dust.
"Kayn..." Yone took a step towards Kayn, but the singer turned his back.
“We became known a bit in the city because we always performed here; therefore, Heartsteel was attracting more and more customers. And, since the time Ez came here alone, he always helped with everything; he gave tips on music, drinks... I can say that this bar was only so popular because of him. And that's why Tommy said Ez was a four-leaf clover. He even had green hair.”
Yone swallowed hard, thinking about the tattoo Kayn had on the inside of his left forearm.
“Curious how true it seems now. The luck clearly ran out.” He placed his hand on Yone’s back to guide him. "The bartender wants to take pictures with his phone. Let's go."
The singer took more silent steps and roamed to the exit door, for the last time.
***
SIDE was like a miniature bank. The air conditioning chilling the faint smell of paper, the bluish carpets, the sober and light colors, a table with a computer and a counter that held two attendants behind armored glass. A security guard stared at them firmly from behind a guardhouse.
Yone took the lead, stopping at the counter. He asked for the box, introduced himself to the young attendant, handed them the letter and made the right orders. She asked for Kayn's documents, and the manager turned to him. Kayn was in the middle of the room with his eyes lost.
"Kayn, you need to sign." Yone called out to him in a calm voice.
Kayn's astonished look took on a reality check, and, shaking his head, he approached. The young brown-haired attendant smiled very widely when she saw him, and her gaze seemed shocked, even as she tried to maintain professionalism. She passed the paper through the specific gap in the glass and Yone noticed that her hands were shaking.
There was a fan everywhere. Yone leaned back and crossed his arms. Kayn had lowered his head to sign and he looked like he needed to calm his breathing.
Kayn passed the paper back with the hint of a cordial smile, as best he could. He directed it towards the attendant and appeared to have been hit with a slap.
The attendant was gone, and, an infinite time and also no time at all after, she returned.
"Here you go, Mr. Kayn. The contents from box 03162010".
A white box was in her hands, slightly larger than a shoebox. He opened a compartment and handed it to Kayn. The singer hesitated for a moment before picking it up and giving his back.
When they were outside the company, it seemed like it had all ended way too quickly. Yone looked back at Kayn and noticed that the singer's hands were shaking against the box. He didn't want to ask, and he didn't want to remain silent either; His greatest desire was to wrap his arms around his shoulders and hold him against him so that he would calm down.
He just placed his hand on his shoulder, an almost paternal gesture.
"I never thought..." Kayn's voice burst from his throat as soon as he felt Yone's touch. "...I never thought Ez had anything to give to me. That cold note...I held on to it. I moved on thinking there was nothing left, and that he hated me as he should have."
Yone swallowed hard. The right words, which he always knew when to say in every situation, where were they?
"I don't know if I can do this, you know?" Kayn slowed his steps until he almost stopped, looking away from the volume in his hands.
"Do you want to open it?"
"When we get back in Los Angeles, and when I'm away from you." Kayn sighed, staring at the metallic glow of the Veracruz in front of him. Yone didn't want to take it personally, he couldn't, but it was just hard to control how he felt. Damn, it just was. Kayn had gotten into the car, and Yone had done the same.
***
It was ten thirty at night when Irelia turned off the office lights. Her head throbbed and her purse dangled between her fingers. She put her hand in his pocket and took out her cell phone. She found the long distance number she needed and put it to her ear, sighing.
That wasn't life. She didn't have time for anything other than that damn job, that didn't involve K'Sante, Yone, and, especially, Kayn. Now Yone was closing in on her; he had definitely discovered something. What, and how much?
"Good evening, Irelia." They answered on the other end of the line. "I thought we agreed to talk at seven."
"I wasn't able to call earlier. Not only did Yone leave me with all the chores to do, he also purposely disorganized five boxes of folders and important papers so I wouldn't find them while I was doing my work. He knows I can handle it even so, but I'm goddamn exausted."
"He found out, obviously. He found out that we wanted to take the box out of his reach. So much so that he managed to convince Kayn to go to Seattle." His voice then became serious. "Yone is a manipulative son of a bitch, that's the truth."
"It's not my fault. I had already warned your assistants not to call me at the office, it was obvious that some shit was going to happen! He probably does know that someone who shouldn't have had called and I’m fucked!”
"Irelia, breathe. You're the one who didn't do what you had to do, you can't afford to freak out now."
Irelia switched the phone and narrowed her voice as she entered the elevator.
" Can't afford to freak out? I'm working sixteen hour days and on Sundays! So yes, I'm freaking out! It's not you I owe satisfaction to, it's K'Sante. That's who I've been working for since the beginning."
"Such a good informant that Yone outsmarted K'Sante and you didn't even know about it."
"I can't know everything." Irelia was getting out of the elevator, rummaging through her bag for her car keys. "What's my fault if K'Sante let himself be seduced? Yone really has fire in his hands and a silver tongue. It's very easy to blame me for not informing him, when it was just him who should have read better what he signs."
"K'Sante has to sign a thousand papers a day. You can never read everything. He had to trust someone. And he thought if something was wrong, you would let him know."
"The guy fired you and you're defending him?"
"My dismissal was Evelynn’s doing, not K'Sante's. K'Sante is a huge jerk, but in the end he couldn't help it after Evelynn poisoned the entire board. But neither you nor I have anything to offer him as well as work. So to get in the boss's good graces and become an agent, what we need is to know everything and handle everything, whatever the case. K'Sante only spoke to me again because he wanted to find a way to send you away. I was the one who asked you to continue, and for the three of us to be in this together now." Zed was incisive.
"And now I need to help you look into Kayn's life."
"It's the least, Irelia. I couldn't let Yone and Evelynn get their dirty paws on something so private to Kayn, that’s the truth."
"What do you think is so terrible that no one can know about it?"
"It's not that. I don't know what's inside, maybe it's not even that crucial; but Ezreal left it for Kayn, and it can't go to the media. It's none of their business. Kayn means too much money, they would use anything to control him."
Irelia sighed as she walked to her car in the empty garage.
"The point is, I'm blindfolded in the middle of all this with you throwing me from one side to the other, like a little ping-pong ball."
"It's less bad with K'Sante and I. If Yone caught you, he'd hit you with an electric racket instead."
"I think I'm serving the wrong team."
"No, Irelia. Believe me, you have more to gain if you continue to trust us. Yone should not be trusted under any circumstances; look at what he did to K'Sante and what he is doing to Kayn. For him to do worse with you, it would be like crumpling up a piece of paper and throwing it in the trash. Absolutely no big deal at all."
"I know, Zed, and that's why I continued to be loyal to K'Sante."
She added in her mind only the rest of the thought: And because I wouldn't have been able to go back to Yone and talk 'oh, boss, I've been serving as an informant for your superior, but now that I failed because you outsmarted him and I didn't see it coming, I changed my mind. Come on, I'm on your side now, and I'm trustworthy! "
“And after everything, he still sticks with you as well. So keep on, you chose the right side. You don't need to be sticking daggers in anyone's back but Yone. You chose the right side too, and hang in there, now.
"Do you really think I'm going to make it, Zed?" The singer started the car and accelerated it a little. "Do you think anyone can fool Yone?"
"That's what he wants you to believe. That's the confidence Yone has always had, for a reason: The day that confidence breaks, he'll be nothing." Zed was firm in his words, and he always convinced Irelia. "So, you want to be an agent, don't you? Be better than him, or surrender at once. You should know that there is no middle ground in what we work on."
Chapter 34
Notes:
Hi, everyone! I do hope you are enjoying the reading. That's a really heavy chapter, and it may be really triggering. As mentioned in the notes at the beginning of the story, be careful if any of the themes mentioned the tags are personally difficult for you. I wouldn't recommend it to be read in a depressed mood or if you are affected with any kind of triggering scenario. But I hope you can still like the chapter if you decide to read it. See you <3
Chapter Text
Inside the office, the three women were once more working since the first hours of the beginning of the week. The pink-haired woman was accompanying the voice editing that Diana did, for the videos she would upload on Kayn’s news. Vayne worked as well, and the third woman in the room was was The Prophetess, Alune herself, the owner of the famous channel and website named after her alias and the voice behind the videos and the well-known avatar that went after celebrity gossip like no other, keeping her true identity a mistery. She was the responsible for hiring the two journalists to make the channel.
Having a specific interest on a specific celebrity would make it easier to track.
Some photos of Seattle had already been on the website since the weekend. They weren’t taken by a professional, but, instead, by someone close to her who conveniently, or not so conveniently as it may seem, was stil living in that city.
"Look at his face when he left the bar." Diana crossed her arms, leaning back on the office chair.
"According to the attendant, he didn't order a drink, he didn't sign an autograph or allowed a photo, he didn't do anything except walk around the lobby." Vayne confirmed.
Alune stood in silence for a couple of moments, pressing her lips to a line, while the two other waited for her directions. Then she sighed.
"Is this place they were really Tommy’s bar?"
"Not anymore. I called there, they said it was sold a while ago." Vayne confirmed while having her eyes on the screen. Then they were all looking at a photo of Kayn and Yone standing in the parking lot of SAFE. There was a small box in Kayn's hands and Yone had his hand on his shoulder. The singer looked ahead with a lost expression and his agent looked somber. in fact, they seemed accomplices.
"They spent the weekend at the hotel." Alune placed her hands on her hips. "So let's just post that 'a certain singer and his agent' spent the weekend at the hotel together and let fans go wild with their headcanons."
Diana hesitated.
"We don’t know if they did it." She spoke up once again, but her voice just sounded too heavy, and he cleared her throat. “I mean, we’re playing with fire and we have to be careful not to burn ourselves down with it. If we start messing too much with the wrong people we can have a lawsuit coming our way very soon.”
"We're not going to get burned, no. I can take care of it." Alune was as calm as always, eerily even.
It was Vayne’s turn to speak up.
"Don’t you think we’re focusing a bit too much on Kayn? They are still people, you know?”
All Alune did was give the journalist a commiserative pat on the shoulder and send her a soft smile.
"Don’t worry, I’m focusing on him just the right amount. If you knew half of what I know..." Alune said, putting her hands in her pants pockets. “But don’t worry. Soon enough, you will. And then, everybody will as well”
***
"...to put this under the responsibility of my junior partner, Yone. He is also one of the people responsible for the issues involving Kayn now."
Yone came to his senses with K'Sante's firm voice beside him saying his name, at the end of the table. Three other businessmen were arranged in that meeting room. Evelynn in front of him was taking a large sip of water, and everyone was silent, and it was even possible to hear the sound of the air conditioning.
A freezing feeling of despair hit Yone's chest. He was thinking about why Kayn hadn't answered the phone in over eighteen hours, and he let himself get distracted. They seemed to expect an attitude from Yone, that he would say or do something; the brunette didn't understand how he could have distanced himself so much from the conversation in just two minutes of rambling. When he noticed Yone's hesitation, Evelynn took over.
"I assure you that Mr. Yone would like to accept the proposal."
Yone looked away, at Evelynn, and received a silent confirmation that he was supposed to say "yes."
"Yes, I’ll follow Ms. Evelynn’s position."
His fear continued until he was given some papers to sign and the conversation continued; He read each of those terms and at the same time sharpened his attention to what they said. He soon concluded that it was nothing serious, it just gave him the responsibility for responding directly to some sponsorship changes for Kayn. Typical obligations; meanwhile, the words on the table surrounded the theme of the Awards from the end of the year. Yone didn't confirm anything, he just assured that he would also take that to Kayn to sign. A few more sober words, and the meeting was over.
Evelynn stood up and her look at Yone was disapproving. Everyone left the room little by little, but Yone remained sitting, rereading again what had been given to him.
K'Sante packed his briefcase and watched the last person leave the meeting room and close the door. He looked away at Yone and grinned crookedly in derision.
"Jeez, Yone, if they took you to a strip club you wouldn't be as lost as you were today."
Yone wasn't expecting any sentence, but he wasn't as distracted as he had been, and that sentence didn't take him by surprise. He smiled and got up from his chair.
"I wasn't lost. I just noticed what you are up to." The manager bluffed to start his line of reasoning.
"Which would be...?" K'Sante stopped packing things in his suitcase and just stared at Yone.
"Passing these lateral responsibilities on to me, you want to give me more things than I can handle, and surround my smallest mistakes."
"So you can feel what it's like to have hundreds of papers to sign in a very short time and needing to trust someone to do it."
"Is that why you're talking to my secretary? So she can make me sign documents and capture my mistakes so she can send them to you?"
"Me, talking to your secretary? Nice bluff, Yone."
"It's not a bluff. I saw your number on Irelia’s desk phone. What, she wasn't answering her cell phone? You can be a bit pushy sometimes, K’Sante, that always backfires."
K'Sante turned his attention back to his things, closing his briefcase. He didn't answer anything, he just exuded deep disinterest and contempt. Yone came over and placed a hand on his arm.
"Let's not do that, K’Sante. I won't expect you to want anything less than to take me down, but we don't need to hold these grudges. We're tied together now, if one of us goes down, the other will drown too. Society, remember? We have to overcome these problems together, we need to be partners. It was never personal, I’ve always admired you and really, really enjoyed your company, it’s-"
"Bullshit.” K’Sante scoffed and interrupted “God, Yone, you're the most hypocritical creature on the planet. You've been planning all this for months, you've definitely been talking about me like an idiot all this time, I know that. Evelynn pushing Zed away, you taking over and now you have Kayn on the palm of your hand... each of your steps has always been calculated. Have a minimum of decency so as not to act like a businessman with me when you have been nothing more than a swindler."
"I'm not playing anything, I'm asking us to work with professionalism. Together, we can make Kayn pour money, I promise you! He's improving, we don't need to resort to any dirty clause, let's just focus on the talent that we know he does! I never had a direct interest in harming you, I just did what was necessary."
K'Sante sneered, looking away for a moment.
"Oh yes of course, what was needed . After all, you needed money to, let me see, pay for your mother's cancer treatment, the mortgage on your poor parents' house, your brothers' college education... oh, wait! His parents are healthy, filthy rich and all alone. They call you at least once a month, but you are too special to answer them. There is no need for what you did to me; You wanted power because it's what turns you on, and you want money because that's what completes people like you."
Yone returned the same fierce, indignant look.
"People like me, K’Sante? You always talk as if you've never used anyone! I played with people of the same suit, as unscrupulous as me. And you, who puts artists with dreams on all fours for a chance in showbiz?"
Leaving his briefcase back on the table, K'Sante stepped towards Yone's, pointing his finger at his chest.
"You're the worst kind of scoundrel: the one who still convinces himself that he's not the villain of the story. And, you know what? If one day you want my help and support again, you can kneel down and unzip my pants. Don't come and talk about dreams when I trusted you and you chose to stab me in the back. You chose your cards, and now you're going to keep them to the very end."
K'Sante gave his back and left the room like a bull.
Yone should have been worried, but he grabbed his phone and all he did was try to call Kayn again. As he heard the phone ring and ring without being answered, he realized that he cared more about that than the threat he had just received. He sighed, trying to redial; indeed he himself had invented the game and seemed to have unlearned how to play.
***
Yone decided that there was no longer any reason to keep waiting. Kayn simply wasn't answering that phone, and the housekeeper said that he had been locked in his rooms all afternoon, listening to metal at full volume; every time Yone called, he could hear a different song coming from his room, all of them Pentakill; he had actually called several times in the last two hours.
Now Yone had a copy of Kayn's room key, and opened the door to his room. He called him once, but Kayn couldn't even hear him; the lyrics of Tear of the Goddess, passed through the walls and resonated through their gaps as if they were bleeding through them.
The unknown terror
That stood alone
Passed from the days of the early suns
Through worlds of lost belief
Laid waste and buried deep
Summoned to be set up to fall
But there's no fear
That lives inside this soul
Yone unlocked the bedroom door and walked in, frowning. After crossing the previous room, he dropped his briefcase on a random armchair and stopped at the threshold. Kayn had his back to him, sitting on the bed, head down, bent over with his forearms resting on his knees. Yone recognized the open SAFE box next to him on the bed. Some papers spread all over the bed and a few more objects still inside it. Next to it, thrown on the pillow, there was an empty overturned 700 ml bottle of vodka, which seemed to have spilled on the bed.
He turned off the music, but not even then Kayn looked at him.
"Kayn?" Yone took two tentative steps around the bed. He would like to see his face. "Is everything alright?"
"No, it's not. And you aren’t supposed to be here."
"Kayn, what happened?" Yone's eyes widened. "I can-"
"Go away." The sentence was cavernous and the tone of Kayn's voice was slurred, shaky. "I'm warning you, stay away from me."
Yone stopped, but didn’t leave.
"What was in the box?"
Kayn shrugged. He was still on his back, he wasn't lifting his head.
"Nothing much. We did such a suspense for nothing. All there was… just a few memories, souvenirs and a letter. A letter... a letter to tell me exactly what is real. To remind me of everything I’ve done."
"Kayn, please talk to me." Yone took another step towards the bed, and Kayn just watched the movement with a sideways glance.
"Don't take another step, Yone."
Without obeying him, Yone moved a little closer. The floor in front of Kayn was broken, as if just one of the large tiles had been struck, leaving a hole. He couldn't think of a reason. As soon as his manager looked up, the singer stood up. His body wasn't even firm, but it was decisively that Kayn raised his right arm towards Yone.
What could be seen in the singer's drunken eyes was like a sharp paper cut, and it said a lot; but Yone just couldn't see them.
All that took over his field of vision was the silver pistol between Kayn's fingers, which the singer had pointed at him.
"I said stay away from me, or I’ll shoot."
A gun. There was a gun in Kayn's hand.
Everything in Yone’s world froze.
"Kayn... what...?" Yone's voice constricted in his throat amidst the incredulous and terrified racing of his heart, as he lifted his arms in surrender. "Where is this... what the fuck do you think you're doing? Stop, let go... God, let it go. This is not funny, Kayn, please, stop."
Those weren't the words Yone had been looking for, but what were they? He had never looked down the barrel of a pistol pointed at him in his entire life, and he knew he wished he never had.
"Do I look like I'm laughing, Yone?"
"No, I know you're not. But you're shaken and you're drunk, don't..." his breath was short and he could barely feel his hands as he stretched them out in front of him, "give me that pistol before a disaster happens.”
Yone realized that the barrel wasn’t truly pointed at him, but at the wall beside him. Still, the dread had sunk his feet into the ground and he just couldn’t move.
"We can work this out together, Kayn." Yone tried to take a deep breath, his voice shaky. "Let go of it. Please. Please."
"I don't want to hurt you, Yone. I did, I hoped I could wreck you like I do to anyone who gets close to me. But now..." Kayn's voice was barely more than a whisper, and the strangle of his voice was unmistakable. "That's the last thing I want right now."
Finally Yone was able to face something other than the pistol. He looked up at Kayn and his eyes were teary, the green of his irises shining with sadness as if the sun would never rise over the horizon again. Yone had never seen him cry, and it was one more thing he wished he'd never seen. As a couple of tears ran down the singer’s face, Yone was sure that acid had been poured over his heart.
"You're going to end up shooting me, Kayn. You are going to kill me if you do. If you say you don't want to hurt me, put that gun down and let's talk." All of Yone's ability to reason was flowing away like a drain.
A sigh filled the singer’s lungs and he folded his armed arm towards himself.
"Just don't make me do it with you watching." Kayn placed the barrel of the pistol against his temple. "That's a fifty caliber, brains will fly everywhere."
Kayn's sentence sounded to Yone as if he had indeed shot him in the middle of the chest, the fragments of the bullet in his stomach, the sound stunning him, ringing in the back of his ears. He was scared to death even when he hadn't believed that Kayn would shoot him; but shooting himself in the head, that was totally believable and real right now. His words were purposeful, concrete, even as his entire body seemed to waver and waver, as if his muscles weren't even connected to his nervous system.
"Kayn, don't-..." Yone's voice trailed off as he felt his heart reduce to viscera. "...there are millions of people who love you, Kayn, don't do-"
"They do not fucking love me. They don't know who I am. If they did, they would never love me." Kayn retaliated, and then his voice became almost caricatured, sadly burlesque. "Yone, have you ever wondered why I'm not here with my band? Why is it only my name, and no Ez, Sett, Aphelios that is selling millions? Do you want to know how Heartsteel broke up, Yone?”
"I do, I do, just give me the gun first. Don't-"
Yone wanted this to end; the singer, however, he seemed like he to need to speak; he blurted out as if he were exploding, as if he were bursting.
"We got the attention of our first record company, you know? But our ability wasn't enough. I mean, the drummer, keyboardist and bassist weren't good enough. But me? Oh, the guys in the suits liked me. They liked how well I can sing and how well I can suck a cock. You know what else they loved? The songs Ez wrote, and his lyrics. But they wanted nothing to do with any Ezreal. Come on, a trans guy? No way for them. Actually, they didn't want anyone else. It was just me or none of us. Now guess what I’ve done."
No reasoning, not even the most elementary, could be made in Yone's mind as Kayn continued to press the revolver barrel to his head, the gun’s muzzle right against his temple. His fingers were wobbling too much on the trigger, he was drunk, even though his voice seemed firm. Doing nothing seemed like passively waiting for him to take his life, but taking even one step was too heavy, the weight of a crucial attitude. He did not say anything, because there was hardly a pause; Kayn seemed more interested in confessing the story.
"At the end of that day, Ezreal was still waiting for me, thinking I would come back to give him the news that would change his life, but he’s never got any news, because I went over his head and tricked him to accept the contract. I got all of our money and all of our songs and I fucking bailed. I did this to them. I did this to him, Yone. He, who opened the doors of his house to me and shared food with me when we were starving. With him, Yone! He saved my life, he gave me a roof over my head and a band to play with, and how did I thank him? I gave up on him, I betrayed him! In exchange for fame, in exchange for what I thought was success!"
More tears welled up in Kayn's eyes, and it was only at that moment that Yone realized he was crying too. That his face was wet, that his hands were ice, that there was no breath that brought oxygen to his body, and with each breath he felt more suffocated. Kayn needed to put that gun down. For the blood that ran cold through Yone's body, for the sobbing spasms that were the beats of his heart now; for everything that was worth living in the world, whatever it was, that's why he needed to put down that gun.
"You couldn't possibly-..."
"He needed my help, Yone! He gave up everything for the band, he bet everything – all his money, time, talent, everything – on Heartsteel. He trusted everything he had to me with his eyes closed, and I abandoned him. I was never even man enough to face him again, because I always knew it was wrong, always, and I did it anyway. I did not care. I used and ignored the only person who loved me in this life and it took me forever to even try to find him and send him some fucking money. He was my best friend and it's my fault, my fault, that he died of an intentional overdose, alone, wasting away in a crappy studio apartment. Because the only person who had ever loved me in my life, I BETRAYED! NOW LOOK AT ME, YONE!" Kayn raised his other hand to the slide of the pistol and cocked it, pressing the muzzle against his temple again. "LOOK AT ME AND TELL ME IF IT WAS WORTH IT!"
Yone thought he was going to fall to his knees; his stomach twisted almost with the taste of blood in his throat and he thought he was going to faint. Even more abundant tears welled up in his eyes as if they were being cut by razors.
"Don't do this, for...for me! I can't watch you do this, I’m begging you, please!"
"You're the last person I wanted to hurt right now. I just didn't..." Many tears escaped Kayn's eyes as if they were leaking, and he didn't even sob. "...I just didn't pull this trigger earlier today because every time I tried, I closed my eyes and saw your face. That's why I got drunk, I thought it would fix it; but I'm just dizzy, and I still can’t find the courage."
"Courage, Kayn? It's not courage to pull a trigger, you're much stronger than that-"
"FUCK MY STRENGTH! FUCK IT! WHO PAYS FOR IT BUT ME? My life has been a nightmare since I was a child, I’ve been abused in every single way possible more times than I can count, I've already started over dozens of times, much more than anyone imagines, and I'm still here, again and again, destroying everything I touch like a fucking demon. I can't fucking bear the price I pay for my dream any longer, I can't bear to look at myself in the mirror, on billboards, in magazines, on TV, I can never escape myself. I'm fucking exhausted, I just... I can't take it anymore."
Yone was crying like his chest was being ripped in half. He needed to say something, do something. He needed anything.
"I'm no one to ask, Kayn, I'm the same scoundrel who walked through that door the day we met, but with one difference: I love you, and I can't let you go. Please, please. I know who you really are and I love you anyway; I love you because of that, only because of that. Please, Shieda. I love you, I love you so much. Please, don't do this."
Kayn hesitated for a moment and what Yone saw in his tear-filled eyes was so beautiful that he almost fell to his knees. A glimmer of hope, just for a moment. It was everything Kayn ever wanted to hear, and the thing he least allowed himself to believe.
"You are lying." Kayn then had a terrible grin on his face. A broken grin of scorn and pain, and more tears flowed from his eyes all over his face, incessantly. "You're terrified now that I'm going to die and you're seeing love where it doesn't exist. What you have, what you've always had, is pity of me. You can see that I'm crazy in love with you and you use that against me. How can you, how can you do this? How can you come to a person who says their life is a lie and YOU LIE TO THEM?”
"I'm not lying, I love you, Kayn, I know I do! For all that is holy..." Yone's eyes were brimming with tears and he barely remembered when was the last time he had cried like that in front of someone. Maybe never. "...drop...that...gun. Don't let the only real thing in my life die, please! Don't do this to me, don't leave me here!
Yone's tears were not bearable for Kayn. No, that wasn't true. It wasn't love, it was despair. On the verge of losing, the heart dictates certain things as essential, even if they are not.
But did it matter? Could he even die with the image of Yone begging him like that?
Could he even die?
His armed hand lowered and hung at his side. Yone immediately took two steps forward, grabbed the singer’s hand and, as if holding a glass of nitroglycerin, took the pistol from between his fingers, and he had no idea how to uncock it, so he left it in the bathroom at least one wall away from them, and locked the bathroom door, keeping the key, in what was basically a blur. He left it there and, when he looked back at Kayn, he had thrown himself onto the mattress. Yone just knelt beside him and pulled him against his body, the two of them lying on the bed. Yone hugged that singer's body with all the strength he had, one hand wrapping around his back and the other holding his head against his shoulder; with his eyes closed, his lips were pressed against that colorful hair. He realized that he himself had finally stopped crying; Kayn, however, sobbed in his arms. As his tears fell down his neck, all Yone felt was fear. A fear so great that it made him go cold, an icy breath in his guts, a charge of adrenaline that dissipated all the way to his hands.
I love you.
I love you?
The threat of death had passed, but the sentence still echoed and rumbled in the infinity of his thoughts.
Every time I open my chest and look inside, I hate what I see. Couldn't it just be another lie?
The singer then sighed and stopped sobbing and, with his arms folded against Yone's chest, he held his manager’s shirt with his fingertips. Yone was shaking to the point where his hands wavered over Kayn's body. His bones ached and his thoughts made him feel like he was sinking into bed.
I am empty and he is broken. I am shallow and he is abysmal. If I dare touch your heart with all the rudeness of mine, I will tear it to pieces. I will reduce it to shards and they will still tear me apart. I can't do it, I'll never do it.
"Yone..."
Kayn's voice was hoarse and made Yone wish that she was less sober, that he had never really wanted with all his conscience to take his own life.
"I want what you feel for me to be pity, Yone. I wanted you because you hated me, because we could have fun without me hurting anyone that mattered, and it backfired. I've never wanted anyone to depend on me again, because I know I'm going to hurt them, I know I'm going to let them down, and here I am. I'm too weak and always run into other people's arms. It was like that with Ezreal, with Zed, it wouldn't be any different with you."
Yone couldn't answer. He tried, but it was like a dream where he screamed at the top of my lungs and no one heard.
I'm... Zed was right from the beginning. I'm terrified. I have something too fragile in my hands, and I'm going to break it. I'm too cruel and superficial. I will not be able to do this. I'm not enough, I have never been. I will destroy everything. I'm going to destroy everything, I should have seen this before. I will not be able to do it. I will destroy everything.
Kayn listened to Yone's desperate heartbeat and uncertain breathing, and knew that he had scared him, that his ever so powerful manager was completely terrified. Even so, Yone didn't let go of the strength that kept him safe, even though his entire body shook. Kayn just wanted him to leave, even though he knew – or because he knew – that it was in the arms of his agent that he felt protected like nowhere else in the world. That world that bowed before him at the same time that it made him a target.
"Why do the good ones have to go while people like me succeed?" Kayn whispered confessionally, as if it were just for himself. "It's not fair, Yone, I shouldn't be admired at all. There's nothing about who I am today that isn't the result of cowardice, and I don't deserve it... I cannot bear how happy I feel when I'm with you."
Yone felt the lump in his throat again, but he held it back. Ezreal had been the one who had the courage to face everything, with his chest open, by his side, and that made him the only one who allowed Kayn to never fall. Maybe... maybe someone had to take that job. All Kayn didn't need was a coward in his life.
"Kayn..." Finally his voice came out, and Yone found the sound strange. "I can't, I can't say anything I really want to say right now. You're a good person who made the wrong choices, and when you realized that, when you finally stopped to think and reality threw it in your face, you realized that your castles were made with foundations of other people's guilt and pain. The point is that you finally saw that you were wrong, you came to your senses and you need to allow yourself a second chance. You are not a coward, you are stronger than anyone could be, and you were hurt way too much. You did what you could with what you had, and you succeeded where no one else could, playing a game designed to destroy you. Now you need to allow yourself to be loved, you need to believe. Not because you should, but because it's what you have left and what could be worth it all."
Yone's last sentence filled Kayn's eyes with tears again. The singer placed his hands on the mattress and looked up. His wet, turgid eyes stared so deep into Yone's.
"Are you saying this to me, or to yourself?" Kayn asked without the slightest pretense, accusation or incrimination in his voice.
Yone breathed in through his mouth and his lips trembled. He just placed his forearm on the bed and held Kayn's face with his other hand.
"For both of us."
He let his mouth touch Kayn's and closed his eyes, sinking into a certain vertigo. He was so scared he could barely understand. That desire to run away, to push Kayn and run away until he had no more strength in his legs, that was palpable, the cold was real. Despite everything, he remained there, feeling how infinite and violent it was, like an ocean, the taste of the salty tears that flowed to his lips.
Yone knew this would take strength. Because no one really pays the price for it but himself; but at least once in his life, he needed to have it.
If not for himself, then for Kayn.
Chapter Text
Opening his eyes was quite confusing. After so long, after so many sleepless hours trying to calm his mind, Yone hadn't even realized he had slept, but it didn't last an hour. He tightened his arms around himself and felt the lack of a body between them; he sat down suddenly and turned over, startled, to the side. He saw Kayn lying face down with his face buried in the white pillow, his back going up and down slowly as he breathed. So Yone dropped his body onto the bed again and sighed.
After trying to organize whatever was possible at that time of night, the two had taken a shower and Kayn, who had sat on the floor, exhausted, almost fell asleep in front of Yone. He guided Kayn to the bed, practically carrying him. Now, the manager was wearing Kayn’s T-shirt, he was lying in his bed and that was where he had slept; he couldn't, he couldn't in any way allow Kayn to try anything against his life again. Suddenly everything seemed like a threat; blades, pills, the car in the closed garage, the window open, everything. Yone had given the gun to a security guard for him to handle, but the threats were everywhere.
There were always ends to meet. He couldn't forget any of them. He was terrified, he had a lump in his throat so tight it felt like a noose, but the world didn't care about that; the world he lived in was waiting for him with a smile on its face and a dagger behind its back. He couldn't fail. If he had failed, perhaps Kayn would now be a body lying on the ground in a pool of blood, his head blown off. Maybe not, but what if so? He could never fail, but now it felt like he was trying to contain a tsunami with his bare hands. Would he be able to do that? Was that even his responsibility? It would be so much easier to run away from it and deny it. He's done it dozens of times already, taking what he wanted and leaving when things aren't convenient anymore.
When the two laid down together, he remembered the last time he had to hug him tightly for him to sleep. They barely knew each other, they would never imagine what the two would become, they would never believe that they had given out so much of themselves.
At that time, Kayn was on coke, possessed by fear and anger. Now, Yone stared at the sleeping face of the singer next to him and realized that everything and nothing had changed since then. There was an infinite number of feelings that welled up in his heart, feelings that parasitized him. Yes, they parasitized, there was no shadow of a doubt about that; but they could be strangling vines, or perhaps they were a lovely orchid.
Still, Kayn was the same body, the same memories, the same hatred, that same soul with the taste of gall. If he had gone to the trouble of storing a gun in a space under a tile, it was because he had already planned it very well and a long time ago.
A painful shiver ran through Yone's body. It was unbearable to think that he might not be able to stop him.
He sat down on the bed and saw the SAFE box open next to it. He looked at it introspectively until his eyes blurred and shook his head, extending his arm towards it. He held it and placed it on his lap. He hesitated for a second before looking inside.
He had to get more information, but he found himself afraid of knowing too much. There were some things that didn't make sense to Yone, like concert tickets, other small pieces of paper, some pieces like strings with pendants and little silver ones, some crumpled notebook paper, and a pair of black wristbands from young artist Kayn. Like the ones he used to hide the self-harm marks on his wrists, when he was no longer in cold Seattle and couldn't wear long shirts all the time.
Yone left the wristbands inside the box again and held the crumpled paper with his fingertips.
“You’re not supposed to read this.”
Kayn’s thick voice sounded above reality to Yone; he hadn't noticed that the singer had woken up. He turned to him and saw the singer's face expressionless, his green eyes turgid and reddish, the left one even more than normal. He placed the paper inside the box and left it on the nightstand, turning back to the bed.
"How are you?" Yone asked in a hoarse voice.
Kayn sighed and swallowed hard, crossing his legs as he sat on the bed.
"With a headache."
Yone crawled back to the bed and looked directly into Kayn’s eyes, reaching out for his hand.
“I’m going to stay with you for a while until we work out what we’re supposed to do, okay?”
Kayn gave a weak laugh, almost a snort, which barely turned into a grin.
“You already wouldn't leave me alone, now you're gonna be watching me 24/7."
With a weak sigh, almost like a whimper, the manager rolled his eyes. He was so exhausted, so exhausted.
"Yeah, it looks like it.”
“Exchanging my cutlery for plastic ones, that sort of thing.”
“Stop trying to bring up the wall in front of you again, Kayn. It won't work.”
“Taking the medicine out of my bathroom, even the aspirins...” Kayn continued as if the manager had said nothing “Next thing is the bars on my windows.”
Yone narrowed his eyes to the singer with a completely indignant expression on his face.
"Seriously? You are really coming at me with your irony? After everything that happened yesterday? What is it, do you have a moral hangover?”
Yone sighed and buried his hands in his face, rubbing his eyes. His back felt a little numb and a tingling ran down the back of his neck.
“I need to work, but I won't be able to do it today. So yeah, you better believe I’ll be here with you, at least until I can think again of what we’re supposed to do.”
“Is it true, Yone?”
The manager's hands then fell along his torso to the bed again. He looked away from Kayn and noticed his dismayed, anguished features, his timid gaze. He wanted confirmation.
“What do you mean?”
The singer took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. He grabbed the blankets and exhaled truncated.
"What you told me so I wouldn't… you know,” Kayn got closer on the bed to Yone. The singer barely looked like he had slept. His face looked dry and his dark circles looked hollow. “...were you being sincere?”
Yone swallowed hard and his lungs felt contorted.
“If that’s not true, I honestly don’t know what is anymore.” He forced a deep breath. “Kayn, I love y-”
In one movement, the singer covered Yone's mouth with his hand, startling him.
“Shhh...” The singer leaned closer and placed his hand on the other's mouth and stared firmly into his agent's wide, astonished light green eyes. "Don’t say it."
After a muttered protest, Yone silenced the sounds in his throat and grabbed Kayn 's hand so he could lower it. The strength softened and Kayn’s fingers slid across the other's face until they released him.
“You are so fickle, Kayn.” Yone confessed quietly in a tired sigh. Their faces were quite close.
“How many times do you think someone can stand to start over?”
A stillness that lasted a few seconds invaded the room as if it could drown them. They looked into each other's eyes in silence, breathing slowly. Yone didn't respond, just held Kayn 's hand.
“When you're fourteen like I was, it's not that you don't know what pain is. The difference is that you just think you still have time to see things change. And I did it. I believed it, and I left it all behind, more than once. But how many times can someone destroy their foundations and think they will be able to build them again?”
Yone shook his head and held Kayn's hand tighter.
“You didn't pull the trigger for a reason: you felt you could still start again. One more, even after everything, even if it hurts; you could see some reason to give yourself one more chance. Hold onto it. Please, Kayn.”
Kayn’s voice shook for a moment before he spoke again. It didn't respond to Yone's fingers holding his.
“I'm like this because I want to, but what about you? What if everything in you sinks with me? What if I destroy you like I did the only person who truly loved me?”
“Well, I’m not going to give up before I lose. Even if you give up, I won’t.”
Kayn shook his head and threw his body back onto the bed. He crossed his arms over his face.
“Christ, that’s what I feared.” The singer breathed through his teeth. He released Yone’s hand to rub his eyes and didn't look back at the other as he continued. “Now you feel obligated to say all of this. Now you’ll say a million beautiful words simply because you can’t contradict me, because you’ll think that anything you say to me will make me pick up a pocket knife and-”
“Shut the fuck up, Kayn.”
Kayn’s eyes widened and he looked back at Yone again. His manager was breathing through his teeth again and couldn't stand the fact that he wanted to start crying again. He swallowed and sighed heavily, containing the urge. He threw his legs to the side to get up from the bed.
“I can't make you believe, I can't make you accept, forgive or listen to me.” Yone kept his voice firm and almost aggressive. “And if you want to kill yourself, may God forgive me, Kayn, but I won't be enough to be able to stop you. I can try to avoid it, but this is what despairs me: I have never been able to control you, not even for a single minute. I tried to get you back on track and I was the one who got derailed. I just wanted that for once-”
“If I promised you would never, ever try to kill myself again, would you leave?”
The sudden sentence interrupted Yone's outburst and felt like a blow to the stomach.
"What?"
“I'm a sinking ship already, Yone. You always knew and I never tried to avoid it. Either you uncuff your ankles and watch as I sink like everyone else will, or you attach yourself to me and sink with me. There is no middle ground and you always knew it. I’m giving you that choice now.”
Yone offered his hand to Kayn.
“Get up from there.”
"Why?" Kayn propped himself up on his hands.
“Please, just get up.”
Without saying anything else, Kayn obeyed. The two crossed the room barefoot, leaving it for the corridors, stepping on the cold stones. They went down the stairs and Kayn didn't understand the destination of their silent steps.
Yone took him to his studio and turned on the lights in the great room.
“Right… my studio.” All that waiting silence almost embarrassed Kayn, no matter how absurd it seemed. “Do you want us to play something?”
Yone was slow to respond; he had held Kayn's hand and brought him to the dais in the middle of the room. He just answered no, monosyllabically and directly, and took the singer to the center. He released his hand and pushed a stool towards him. Kayn interpreted the gesture and sat on it, watching the manager go to the instruments, pull out the professional keyboard and bring it close to the singer, the sound of the little wheels very ample in that wide room.
He positioned that black box with keys in front of Kayn and turned it on, tuning it electronically to the sound of a classical piano.
“Yone, what...?” But Yone didn't want to answer. In moments he was on the other side of the room, next to the sofas, searching the cabinets for sheet music and returning with another stool for himself.
“When you were at my house, you said you always wanted to learn piano.” Yone came over with another stool and sat next to Kayn in front of the instrument. “Well then; I’m a musician, we have a professional keyboard at our disposal.”
Yone placed a sheet of music on the specific support and secured it with the clip.
“Yone, I don’t…” Kayn shook his head in disbelief. “We have other things to do.”
“You asked if I would leave. Okay, I'll tell you: Not before you're playing Paranoia on the piano. I’m going to teach you.*
Kayn turned to the manager with a frown and a somewhat grim indignation on his face.
"What?"
"You heard me."
"Where did you get that from? This will take months!” Kayn thought maybe years. He had no idea, he just knew it wasn't for him.
“Then you better start soon.”
“Yone, this is ridiculous.” Kayn started to get up and Yone grabbed his shoulder. He made sure he sat down again and his expression was just exhausted. His heart beat insistently and slowly, tightening more and more as if it needed to squeeze the blood for it to flow.
“Promise you’ll play this song for me on the piano.” His voice was low, just low.
Kayn lowered his head and stared at the keys with a cruel smile on his face. He looked at him again, and it was just the greatest of resignations.
“We don’t have all that time.”
"Are you going to tell me about time when you almost took your life last night?" Yone's voice took on gravity and presence, even more firmness and less sweetness.
“No, Yone” Kayn whispered and the realism of what was coming was absurd. “We don’t have all that time.”
Yone pressed his lips into a line and sighed. When he answered, Yone's voice was equally collected and severe.
"It might be that we don't. But you told me to uncuff myself from you? You can throw away the cuff keys; on my watch, you won’t sink.” Yone rested a hand on Kayn's chest, to push the truth into him and make him understand. “There's an artist inside you and he won't die. I won't let him.”
Kayn remained silent, while any word sounded like a door closing, like a contract being signed, like a promise being sealed. In all the abstraction of commitment, even if they were nothing more than words, words such as Yone used to manipulate people so easily every day, whatever he said now seemed to sign with a razor-point pen over their hearts.
“I need to hear you play. I am making this one request to you. Don’t leave me alone in this. It doesn't have to be this song if it’s too much for now, but-”
“No. It has to be this song.”
Kayn placed both hands on the keyboard. His fingers each found a key and played them in disarray, as if trying them out. He turned weakly to Yone and it was with a heavy voice that he asked him the question.
"Where do I start?"
***
Five o'clock. In Kayn 's room, Yone's cell phone was ringing so insistently that he seemed unable to stop vibrating. But he wouldn't hear it - no, because he was too busy locked inside the studio, and there were a thousand notes in the air, harmonic or not, vibrating wrong, heavy, intense; strings, keyboards, singing voices, they played all day with guitars, keyboards and microphones. When he realized, Yone was sitting on the floor of the platform, legs crossed, next to the packages of sweets and drinking an iced cappuccino that he ordered to be brought to him, watching intently Kayn's attempts to make music on that instrument as well, the insinuation of a simple song he had given him.
The day would fade away in a twilight, and they would not have even seen it – because the sunlight is to illuminate the real world, the world that was born from it. Kayn was far from it; But the day happened, and it was worth it.
Kayn stared at those keys that he slowly pressed, and enjoyed watching them. He liked to realize that he could accelerate the pace a little more, and there was something both sublime and harrowing about being at the base of the stairs. The dream was how many steps there were to climb before you are even considered good – not to get there .
Something about it was nostalgic, and he wished it didn't hurt so much to feel so good.
The end of the afternoon on the road always brought some kind of feeling that was difficult to describe. As he had to go through that song, he was obligated to deal with the memories that haunted him the most, because they were the happiest he’s ever been, even when everything was going wrong.
In his memories, he was once again sitting in the passenger seat of the van, Sett driving, Ezreal and Aphelios in the back seat. He wanted to describe how it felt. He wished there was a way, because maybe that would be easier to understand. With music, perhaps he could, but the closest he came was to say that the acrid taste in his mouth was the dissonant sound of an appoggiatura, the dark and sad tone of a song in A minor.
Sett had said they would stop at the next gas station, but Kayn hadn't realized he had already arrived. He only noticed when the car turned a curve and the western horizon left his field of vision to give way to buildings.
Sett and Aphelios got out of the van without saying anything, in a hurry to get out. Ezreal unbuckled his seat belt, but when he realized that Kayn wasn't getting out, he continued in the car.
"What is it?"
"Nothing. I just don't want to get out of the car."
Ezreal frowned. He got out of the car and walked all the way around it to sit on the driver's seat beside Kayn.
"Do you want us to keep going? We can make this stop quicker.”
"No... I don't know.”
Ezreal just crossed his arms and sighed.
"This traveling for gasoline and food tickets is still going to end up killing us." Kayn sighed and ran his hands over his face. "I don't know, Ez. It's freaking me out. It's been two years and we've never gotten anywhere."
"Yeah, but you know what? We could be in a cubicle answering phones. I still prefer this."
"Yeah, but… you have way more soul for music than I do."
"No, Shieda. You're anxious, that’s what it is. You ran away from home and ended up in Seattle, Kayn. Seattle, on the other side of the country. I don't know what happened to you, but I know you were scared. And you are scared now.”
Kayn sighed weakly and felt discomfort in his back, in his chest, as if the back of the seat could poke him.
"Maybe."
"Do you regret it?"
"No. I will never give up."
“Don’t you really want to go back to your house?”
" Never . Never, Ezreal." Kayn responded immediately, without hesitating for a moment. It seemed that just thinking about it was taking away his ground. "My home is with you in Seattle until you decide to kick me out of there."
"If I took you in, you'll only leave there when you want or if we're evicted. I'm not going to give up on you, you're not a toy. You don't treat a human being like that."
Kayn was still too fragile for that. His wounds were open, and Ezreal was trying to apply medicine to him; he could heal it, but at the moment it just burned too much.
"I bought us something." Ezreal glanced at the glove compartment and then looked back at Kayn. He reached out his hand and held his arm. When he started to take off the broken wristband that Kayn always wore, the singer pulled his arm back, but Ezreal didn't release it, forcing him not to let go.
“Let me do it, come on.” The strength with which he held it was the opposite of the softness of his words. With his other hand, he pulled the piece of fabric and took it off the singer's arm. While Kayn remained with his brow furrowed and his eyes fixed on Ezreal's face, bitter with anger, the other just looked down at the deep scars that Kayn had marked on his wrists. There were so many consecutive marks of self-flagellation that it was as if it were chiseled skin in despair; the helplessness carved into his forearms.
“What do you want, Ezreal?” Kayn scolded, as if he was trying to threaten him but was too exposed to do so. “Give me back my wristband. That's none of your business, I don't want to talk-”
“I won’t ask.” Ezreal took Kayn’s two wristbands and put them in his pocket. “I'll be here if you ever want to tell me, but it's you who will decide when and if you want to do it.”
Kayn would tell him, later that same year. However, Ezreal had never insisted. He opened the glove compartment in front of the singer and took out a packet of paper. He opened it, took out four small pieces of beautiful black fabric and placed them on Kayn’s lap.
“I thought I’d give it to you when we were in Seattle, but anyway…”
As Kayn picked up his, he saw that they were a new pair of wrist guards. There was a Heartsteel symbol embroidered on both of them, and he didn't understand what Ezreal was getting at. He looked up strangely at his friend and saw that he wore a pair of those in his arms.
"Why would you...?" Kayn just murmured.
“Friendship wristbands?” Ezreal smiled as he looked down at his arms. “They look sick!”
“You know this is ridiculous, Ezreal, why are you going to wear it?”
“Because you’re not alone anymore, Shieda.”
The tears that filled the singer's eyes at that moment when he lowered his head didn't usually appear; Kayn would only cry in front of him exactly three times, even if he had cried dozens of nights alone and Ezreal had noticed.
Ezreal didn't know how to comfort him, but he was there. Then they shared a hug, a murmured thank you, until Kayn was too ashamed of his tears to continue crying, even though he only allowed some tears to flow. He let go and bent down, pulled his small crumpled backpack from under the seat and from one pocket he took out a blunt.
Before lighting it, they both remained silent and enjoyed their moments together.
Music was life, but, often, silence could also mean peace.
Chapter Text
The office phone was ringing again, but the colors on the board in front of Yone were shaking. He really must have been a little too high on sedatives, but it could also be the fact that he had been staring at that piece for a long time and it had started to blur before his eyes. His head was tilted gently to the side and headphones were in his ears.
He felt the leather of his chair under his palm; it was hot, but all he had to do was move a little to feel the cold part of the piece, as his body heat didn't touch it. He was listening to Lou Reed and was murmuring faintly.
The phone again.
Maybe it had been more than a week since Kayn had held a gun to his head – Yone wasn't counting. Time had seemed malleable and inconstant, flowing like glue through his fingers within acute moments of stress, medication-forced relaxation, and his eternal, brief hours with Kayn.
Kayn accepted the proposal of getting specialized help, which would once more change his schedule. Yet, he’s back to practicing, and he was doing well with the band, and, although he doesn't talk much to Akali, he’s not being a nuisance at all.
So everything is going well.
He managed to do it. He worked well and hard.
Everything is going great.
Yes, it is.
The upholstery of his chair was quite comfortable... Yone rolled his shoulders, swallowed hard, then let his head fall to the other side.
“ I know I'm the bad guy, I don't gotta ask why. If you try to step to me, it'll be the last time .” Yone hummed to himself, on the verge of a whisper.
The phone stopped ringing.
"Boss?" Irelia opened the door weakly, taking the liberty after knocking several times and not hearing an answer.
Yone took off his headphones and his voice was just intoxicated.
"Say it."
“I need you to sign this. It’s from the record company and K'Sante asked for urgency.”
Irelia showed her a stack of papers and the assistant’s eyes looked troubled.
“Okay, leave it there.” Yone gestured to his desk and went back to propping himself up.
The secretary obeyed, leaving the papers on the table.
“Did something happen, boss?”
“Leave the folder there and go to work. I want to have a conversation with you at the end of the day.”
Irelia started to leave, giving her back, but returned. She took a brief breath.
“Boss, you disappeared some days this week without giving any notice and missed two important meetings. There are pending things that are urgent. This week, things are already piling up. I need to insist.”
“Solve it.”
“Sir, I’m sorry, but it’s not under my responsibility...”
“Don’t you want my job, Irelia? What are you complaining about?”
She frowned and quickly ran her tongue across her lips.
“I don’t want your job.”
Irelia's cynicism almost amused Yone. He then broke into a grin.
“Irelia, please sit down.”
The assistant just closed the door and obeyed him. She sat on the chair in front of Yone and left the belongings on the seat next to her.
"Do you know what's the issue?" Yone kept his expression calm, but his voice was a thread of tension that seemed ready to snap. “If I try to push you away, K'Sante will feel like I'm trying to mess with his crew too. I currently have a lot to worry about, and so does he; so we pretty much should leave everything as it is.”
"Sir..."
“The point is that you want to be an agent, you are too close to me and even of Kayn, and I don’t know how much this could ruin everything for me.”
“Sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about-”
“DON’T PLAY DUMB ON ME!” Yone stood up and slammed his hand flat on the top of his desk. Irelia shrugged her shoulders and widened her eyes, but remained still, looking directly at him. Yone then grinned crookedly, sighed with something psychotic in his features. He sat down again and calmly placed one hand over the other on the table. “You know what, Irelia? I need to be close to Kayn because it's only with me that this works now, and I need to be close to K'Sante because I have a contract to follow – but I've already realized how much this can destroy me. Still, you’re not the one who’s going to take my place, I guarantee that.”
“But sir, I would never-”
“You're going to call K’Sante now and tell him you're out of the game. Then you will sign your resignation here and simply disappear from here.”
Yone interrupted her. He opened a drawer in his desk and threw a stack of stapled papers in front of his desk.
Then Irelia just looked grim.
"And why would I do that?"
“Because if not, you better find a way to explain to K'Sante the embezzlement you made of the record company’s money.”
"What? I've never..."
Irelia couldn't believe what she was hearing. Yone leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms.
“After I took over a portion of the record company's profits, money disappeared, turning into papers that were worthless, look what a coincidence... But you know what's funny? My secretary is the one who passes these things on to my accountant. Wouldn’t Irelia have diverted a little money to… let’s say… a tax haven?”
Yone grinned bitterly and Irelia inhaled and exhaled hard, her lips narrow.
"You wouldn’t do that."
“Wouldn't I?”
She gritted her teeth.
“Son of a bitch.”
“So, Irelia, it’s your call. So far, it seems like these are just investments guided by me; and they can be. It's all up to you. Will this money go back to the record company as an investment, or should I pick up the phone and call LeBlanc to file the fraud case I have ready against you?”
“You are a fraud, Yone! I should let you do this, I want so bad to see you go down for blackmail, for manipulating information, for everything you do that’s dirty every day!”
“Do you want to report me? Let's see who has the best lawyer, who has the best contacts? Do you want to join the game?” Yone stood up and placed his hands on the table, staring at Irelia through narrowed eyes. “I may be bluffing, but do you want to take the bet? ”
The assistant’s face contorted, even though she tried with almost physical strength to keep it impassive. The truth was that she wanted to cry from rage.
"You’re a fucking monster."
“I may be. But what did you think, Irelia? That I was vegetating? Do you think I got this far because I’m stupid?” Yone raised his voice back. “I promised you I would put you in the right place. You were the most competent person I’ve ever worked with, I entrusted Kayn to you.”
“As if Kayn were your property.” Irelia no longer had any of the composure she always had. “Your word is worthless. I never wanted anything from you, you’re worthless."
“It’s even funny how everyone gets oh so pissed off when they notice they have their pants down after I fucked up their lives when they were trying to play smart on me. I don't have to talk to you. Sign your resignation, take this to HR, completely disconnect from all of this. Only after I know you're out for real , that you’re safe. And if you ever use my privileged information, just remember that this is what will happen to you.”
“You deserve to get fucked so much, Yone. There will be people knowing about your little affair with Kayn.”
"Excellent! That's it, finish screwing K'Sante up by getting Kayn into yet another blow to Kayn’s reputation. He will be very happy.” Yone forced sarcasm between the rude words. “All you really need is the two of us wanting to skin you and you left with no one to lean on.”
“I do have someone to lean on, Yone.” Irelia answered with what was left of her smugness; she needed something to firm her convictions now, and she barely realized that she should have remained silent.
Yone sighed. He sat down, once again he gave a crooked smile and his voice just calmed down.
"Don't worry. I will take care of him too.” The voice very unnervingly calm, impossibly calm. “Are we done here or is there anything else you want to hand over to help me?”
Irelia didn't respond any further. With impetuous gestures she gave her back, barging through the door and slamming it close.
As soon as she left the room, Yone let out his breath and leaned over the desk. The phone rang again, and he just answered, trying his best to pay attention.
It was no longer the sound of a device ringing, it was the alarm of a bomb about to explode. Yone turned off, leaned his forehead on the desk top and realized he had started to shake.
They say that what starts as a lie never ends well; I started out as a lie, so I can't expect anything to end well for me. For now, I have to make everything work.
That thought drove him and gave him courage for the drastic crazy things he did recently to try to make everything work. He put his hand in his pocket. He took his cell phone and his packet of tranquilizers, already half empty; they had disappeared surprisingly quickly in those last few days.
Maybe that wasn’t what he needed right now.
***
When his fingers missed a note on the marked keyboards, almost at the end of the song, Kayn punched the piano. The pain spread through his fingers, but he took a deep breath.
Damn, it was so close.
He sighed, rolled his shoulders, and scrolled back the pages on the tablet he had in front of himself, to display the sheet music. He only played a couple more notes before he stopped, as he heard the door opening.
“I think I will need to remake the promise. You’ll be a pianist by the end of the year.”
A smile appeared on Kayn's lips when he heard Yone's sentence. His manager was closing the door, putting his hands in his pockets afterwards. His hair was wet and he was wearing jeans, the most casual he had looked in a long while. So he got up to walk to him like a moth to a lamp.
For Yone, it was a unique feeling to walk through the first part of the studio and hear the hesitant notes of a piano playing through the computer sound. At a very slow pace, but correct until almost the end – when Kayn got the rhythm wrong and, consequently, the last notes. Witnessing that seemed to be enough for the manager to forget his life on the doorstep. There he entered another place; a place of more peace, numbing without sedating.
Kayn stood up, approaching him. The singer was clean-shaven and didn't look like he had just gotten out of the bed he had been sinking into as he used to; on the contrary, he seemed even energetic. There was a mug next to that piano – in fact, that imposing piano wasn't there the last time Yone was there. That had been the last detail that he absorbed, because soon Kayn was exactly in front of him and had held his waist.
“It’s a beautiful piece you have here.” Yone looked away at the musical instrument behind the two.
“I bought it yesterday.” Kayn shrugged, and Yone inhaled the scent of coffee, to realize that it was the reason why there was a mug by the piano.
“I always prefer pianos, even if that keyboard has the right proportions. It will be better for our classes.”
Kayn's fingers slid to Yone's shirt collar and trailed down his collarbone.
“You didn’t come all smelling this good and looking this hot to give me piano lessons, did you?”
“I called it a day.”
Kayn put his hand in his manager’s pocket and took out his cell phone. He pressed a button to make the screen light up and raised his eyebrows when he saw the time.
“So your workday is over at... two in the afternoon? By the way, you have two missed calls.”
“Forget about it.” Gently, Yone took the device from Kayn's hands and pressed the button until it turned off for good, then putting it in his pocket again.
The singer narrowed his eyes.
"You look tired", he muttered.
"Yeah. I kind of am. Maybe a little bit zonked, too, but no big deal.”
A sigh. Kayn ran his hand through Yone's hair, tucking it behind his ear.
“You didn’t think you’d get this kind of job when you wanted to be my agent, huh?” Kayn scoffed, not seeing any humor in it.
It was curious how difficult it was to keep a steady look deep into his eyes at that moment.
“It’s not about you. That is far from being the problem, and you’re not a burden I’m carrying.” Yone sighed. He continued holding Kayn's waist firmly. “Still, I’m not here to whine about anything. I wanted to go somewhere and I wanted to see if you want to join me.”
Kayn lifted one brow.
“And I was here thinking I was about to get some. You invite me in person to your shit instead of through a message so that you can use your charm to convince me, right?”
“You see right through me.” Yone smirked, then released one hand from Kayn’s waist to point at his own hair. “So. My roots are showing already and I need to go to the salon. I think your hair could also use some care, and I think I’m also getting bored of full white. So I’ve scheduled us hairdresser and SPA afterwards. What do you say?”
It caused Kayn a chuckle.
“I loved the fancy pizzazz on the ‘changing your hair because of a personal crisis’ trope. Also it’s a cute way of saying I look like a mess.”
“I’m the one who looks like a mess. And that is something I can’t afford. Besides, let me be a rich girl in crisis. Next thing I’ll be in a red evening dress crying with my champagne bottle in a limousine.”
“You say the word and the limo will be on the doorstep. Anything to see you in a red dress.”
Yone stepped out of the embrace, but he allowed his hand to slide until Kayn’s so that he would hold it and guide him to the door.
“Maybe not the limo because I want us to lay low, but if you want to pamper me back I won’t say no to a red dress.”
“Don’t mind me if I do.” Kayn answered, and allowed himself to be led. He hasn’t left the house in a while, because everything would be taken to him, even the psychologists and stuff. He was always being watched, so he almost didn’t mind that there was now always someone guarding him as he goes to the pool or entering the rooms without notice if he spends too much time alone and doesn’t answer the calls.
Not that there was a point to it, but if he chose to be, he should do something to seize the day. And as he left the house and the relentless afternoon sunlight hit his face, he felt like every excitement of his would be ominous.
But if everything he has is now, he might as well start trying to choose his new hair color. He was really tired of the old one, if he gets to think about it, and it really may be the time for a change.
***
One really fun thing for Kayn was that, although he had been through several beauty specialists to make sure he looks flawless for whatever they wanted him in, he can’t recall if he had allowed himself to go through such extensive day of only being taken care of.
Yone really thought of everything. And he surely knew how to enjoy his money very well.
The fact that the SPA itself was all in a Japanese style made Kayn wonder if it was a branch from a SPA in Japan which Yone knew before. At the negative, Kayn said in a nonchalant way ‘oh, so I’m just being racist, got it’, and his manager just laughed. As they passed through the reception in minimalist, yet luxurious decord, with shoji screens diffusing natural light, Yone would point out that, although they had true traditional therapeutical techniques and renowned professionals, the whole asthetic itself was very commercial, the type of serene elegance easy enough to sell. Through koto music playing in the background, Kayn would have to agree, mostly out of common sense more than knowledge he would even care to have, because it was hard to to as they walked through corridors where the walls are adorned with subtle, hand-painted cherry blossom designs, there are golden and sepia lights and the air is lightly scented with a hint of jasmine and sandalwood.
However, for someone used to the salons being scandalously lighted and filled up in monotones with aggressively contemporary interior design with edges so sharp you could cut yourself in, the whole space gave Kayn some peace from the places he would usually get overwhelmed. So, even when there were many professionals taking care of them at the same time, it didn’t stress him out as much as it probably would have.
The process that could probably take the entire day, mostly for Yone’s long hair, was sped up by having more hair professionals work altogether, and they wouldn’t take much more than four hours to have their hair completely done, even with all the deep conditioning treatments they wet through. Yone had some red streaks added as highlights in his hair, and Kayn changed his own completely, from the pink and purple to a darker blue and streaks of lighter blue. Meanwhile, they had their nails done, manicure and pedicure along with hand and feet massage. Kayn had black nail polish on his fingers, and Yone red on his, which looked absolutely sexy for Kayn in a very curious way. He had never truly cared much about nail polish color to begin with, but here they are.
Thet looked stunning in each other’s eyes in any way, but mostly as they looked excited about each other’s results and their own, and as they walked in plush, comfy beige robes to the couple’s massage room. They stepped on the tatami mats covering the floor and Kayn was kind of finding it all somewhat funny. How is it this easy, and how is it that he allowed himself to be taken care of now?
A little bit of it felt that it was because he had to be nice for Yone, now. He had been through enough already. And that was also as they laid on the two low, futon-style massage beds side by side.
They might not have earned any of that, but, fuck, it felt good. Everything that he hated that he had, all of that was exactly what he was trying to accept.
The worst part was always the first step. The reason, the belief. He didn’t get to believe he deserved any inch of roof he had on top of his head, but he would still make sure that he was about to not only enjoy, but then spend, splurge, quander, ware, waste, waste away as much as he can, mostly himself rather than anything else.
But when he takes the time to take care of himself, that feels wronger. Absolutely weird, scratchy in his own skin.
It was night already when they would be left alone to enjoy the ofuro together.
What kept him going was that he convinced himself that it wouldn’t be for him, even if he wasn’t sure if it truly was for Yone.
After the initial cleansing at the traditional washing station, the last words from the employee explaining the process to them were the cue for them to go back to having proper conversations instad of the factual, matter-of-fact conversations that they had with each other. They were locked in, and with enough money in for them to set the room on fire if they wanted, so the matters of relaxations became more intriguing, more provocative.
There was a large, deep, wooden soaking tub made of hinoki cypress in front of them, which is filled with steaming hot water, infused with aromatic bath salts and floating petals. Around them, the decor was inspired by nature, with a small garden with moss-covered stones and a trickling water feature adds to the tranquil ambiance. Arranged on a wooden bench there are the soft towels and all the bath products Kayn wouldn’t care to know, but he was sure Yone would.
Before he could ask or even know if he would want to do so, Yone approached from behind and placed his hands on his waist, pulling the knot around his waist.
“I wanted to say this whole day, you look stunning .” Yone said low, pressing a soft kiss on his neck, his hands now on his shoulders and his fingers hooking on the soft fabric of the robe, pulling it gently to allow it to drop to the floor at their feet. “I loved the blue on you.”
Kayn half-smiled, turning to face him again.
“Been thinking the same about you.” He also untied the knot around Yone’s waist to loosen his robe. “How do you even manage to be like that?”
Yone frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“Like, I’m a singer, I can have a full-on rainbow in my hair and people will accept it, it’s my persona, they accept from artists what they don’t even bear to have close in their personal lives. But you’re part of the most boring type of people I have ever met, the most square, traditional, reeking people there are out there. But you do everything you do on purpose, intentionally, so how is this act any advantage for you to be a part of the Gentlemen’s Club?”
Then Yone’s features turned amused. He knew exactly the answer, because it had been very deliberate indeed. He had taken the robe off off and both just entered the tub as he was explaining his point.
“I have to intrigue them, give them two opposite things to think about. The idea that, for me to be so bold and still sit on the same table as them, I may be weird, but I must be special for some reason. People will wonder, what does that boy have that he’s allowed to be like that? You know, ‘he is Japanese, isn’t he supposed to be traditional? He is wearing such an expensive suit, but he has dyed, long hair, and he’s even wearing makeup sometimes? He is so young, how does he know all the things he does, and why is he so rich? Is he a nepobaby only, or is he tied to crime? Am I seriously going to have business with this guy, but if I don’t, why does all these people have?’ I never not stand out in a board room, so I have to be confident in what I have. Times and things are changing, the old, boring guys are not the only ones in charge, but still, not so much is actually different. So I have to work with their astonishment. And it’s sexy for them, too. Very forbidden, indignating, and then, luring somehow.”
Kayn was smiling at that point, and they were siting down right beside each other. Yone kept his hair tied not to soak it in water, and he indeed looked like a work of art. Which was cruel, if he got to think about it.
“You really are one of a kind, Yone. You know, even when it looks like everyone around me is some kind of a character at this point, you truly outdo yourself.”
“And is that a bad thing?”
Sighing, Kayn stretched his arm behind Yone’s back to allow him even closer.
“Not really. I think… I think that…” he scoffed at the knowledge that he was about to be honest. He could be honest now, what else was there to have? What else was that for them, when he finally, finally believes every word of Yone’s without caring whether they were true or not? “I think that I can see myself in you, even when I truly don’t.”
Mostly Yone leaned in the embrace.
“I’m not sure I’m following.”
“I don’t know if I truly have a point. But I know what it is to be exactly what’s needed to make it all work. To be the most perfect weapon, and yet something yet to be discovered in full power. Something that intrigues them, that fascinates them, but still can be used like an exact, precise tool.”
Comprehending, Yone leaned his head on Kayn’s shoulder, sighing.
“It is really tiring, isn’t it?”
“I have some bad news for you. The moment you allow yourself to look too much into the rules of the game, that’s when you start losing it.”
Another sigh, and Yone knelt on the bathtub and kissed Kayn. Deeply, slowly. Every single droplet of water echoing, every deep breath ressonating all over. Holding Yone’s face, as they broke the kiss, Kayn’s voice got deeper and deeper.
“I keep on wondering if I’ve broken the ballerina in my music box.”
The ever so talented pianist fingers slid on the lips of the internationally famous singer, while they were both just two men sharing the warmth of water and their bodies.
“Maybe. But maybe… maybe the ballerina was looking forward to the moment where she wouldn’t be seen as a toy or a decoration object any longer. For when she could be as bad as she was made to be. So if you ruin her, she’ll be grateful.”
Yone slid onto his lap like he had always meant to be there, always so perfect that by now Kayn felt like it was all worth it. That was the danger; by then, if he were manipulating him, if it was just another one of his acts, that was of such a work of art that it would be worth it. Kayn's heart was racing as he had Yone's body on top of his, and his hands followed sinfully on his thighs and grabbing his hips, his lips just as fickle and indecent as they devoured his lips, vanquished his hesitations to the point of making him wonder if he had ever even tried to resist; his state of excitement only became more dizzying as they kissed triumphantly for both.
“You know… if it ever goes wrong… just stay with me. We burn my money down. I think there’s enough even for a princess like yourself for a while.”
At that point, Yone could agree on how incoherent it was to have one of the most famous, violently powerful men in the world right under his body, mostly when everything felt like no more than a metaphor. Power wasn’t what it shows, but what it gets. Power is in what it allows to show. But that made him smile, and if that promise held out for another second more, it would be already better than most of what he has.
“Is this a proposal?” he giggled, and as he giggled like that, Kayn could hear the bells.
“More like ‘let’s live fast as long as we can, together.’”
“Sounds like the same for me.”, Yone said as they kissed again, and as his hips rolled, they didn’t have anything else to be said but the gentle, fierce hisses of each other’s names. A subtle glow soon appeared on Yone's skin, especially near the base of his neck, and revealed that the heat had already caused a little sweat to break out. His mouth was a little open to breathe heavily when Yone wrapped his legs around his waist, and as they were in that great fit, it was indeed as great as choosing who was going to rule the world next. Their faces were at the same height and the singer was making sure that he would be looking deep into his agent's light green irises.
Kayn's fingers were intertwined with Yone's, and, between kisses, their sighs cried out, asked for each other. Thus, the singer’s rhythm continued, his hips hitting Yone's body with each movement, violent or smooth, fast or slow, at smaller or longer intervals – there was no rule, just what was in that inconstancy was the two in an indecipherable tune. When Kayn let go of Yone's arms, he hugged the other’s body. Everything fell apart inside Kayn gracefully, the excuses, the answers, the hesitations, the explanations, all there was between the why and the because. Without resistance he'd leave away the rest of his staggering fight and the convulsing meanings to willingly let his reasons fall undone as a pile of puzzle pieces on Yone's feet. In the next deep breath he let his mouth open more, tongue brushing on the lower lip before he caught it between his teeth. The trembly and blurred sight of the man under his shadow came from beneath fluttering eyelids, and the shine of purer feelings dimmed to a languid, duller glow. Hugging each other, the friction seemed to burn and boil their bodies, which, increasingly intoxicated with pleasure, moved against each other. And low, trembling moans, getting faster and faster.
“Kayn, you... you are...” Yone had smiled widely, breathing through his mouth, his slow voice choppy every time the pushed himself against him, again and again. "...you are everything ."
The singer smiled back, his hands clasping on Yone's sides; the pleasure that shaped their faces was out of this world.
“And you’re…delicious.” Kayn ran his eyes over that flushed face, his smile twisting with delight. "I want you so much, so much , you have no idea . ”
Being in love wouldn't make him forget what he's done.
But damn if it isn't a good distraction.
Kayn closed his eyes tightly and felt the other’s hands run up his arms to the back of his neck, bringing his face against his shoulder; Yone then turned his face to speak into his ear.
“You’re… the only one, Kayn.” His fingers twitched in the other’s newly blue short hair. “My only one.”
Kayn turned his face and kissed Yone's flushed cheeks, sighing. For a few moments, he stopped moving and sighed deeply, intensely, his mouth against Yone's skin, feeling his hands gripping his torso, his heavy legs holding his back. With another sigh, he then sought his lips and kissed them, always that fit, always the softness of a drop of water and the intensity of a thunderstorm. Between the kiss, he grabbed Yone's body with all his strength once again, pushing himself a little deeper. Oh, that... A moan trembled in the manager’s throat, and Kayn moaned weakly in response, continuing.
And their backs curved and arched, their muscles tensed in little spasms; and, without stopping, just accelerating, their skin rubbed together and their hands helped, their bodies strained against the mattress and weakly rocked the bed as they waved and moved together. Kayn's hands slid over the muscles of Yone's chest, while Yone moaned eagerly and begged obscenities; Kayn needed to muster superhuman strength to control himself, to not finish too quickly, when he heard in Yone's voice moist with lust phrases like push harder, Kayn, like this, like this, oh, Ka-yn... and a breath through his teeth, a bite on your shoulders, a scratch on his back. The only structure remaining inside his simmering soul after the braking of the dam was his relentlessness. Anxious, his toes and fingers curled, hands slipping, Kayn could glimpse pure satisfaction under his own trembly surface, but it was still out of reach - he would be still out of breath to dive and catch. Anything he was always one inch out away from his him, no matter how close their bodies were, and, fuck, they were close .
With a deep huff and blood throbbing faster, he wrapped a hug, fitting Yone's face on the curve of his neck. With a fireplace of his own inside his loins, Kayn’s mouth in that position could deliver the panting right into his ear, the audible craving in the inspiration and the loud pleasure every time he breathes out. Within those he moaned Yone’s name, like a secret, a beseech, like summoning whatever else might be left held back, reward or punishment, theirs or only his, made of angels or made of demons. So, yes, damn, they were banging each other hard and good, deep, relentlessly fast and then torturously slow, two men made to perform, to comply, to deceive, to deliver, to perfect, to entertain, to undertake. But beyond that, they experienced such ecstasy, such idyllic reality, where they were embraced, cradled and nestled, like they were hugging each other in the middle of a volcano.
The friction between them, the friction that grew, it seemed to trigger electrical discharges from a perfect storm. Yone caught his breath and clung to Kayn's back, in the purest delirium, in that approaching orgasm that seemed to be melting his muscles, dissolving his bones, boiling his blood. He surrendered in his dizziness and softened his body and Kayn allowed himself to do the same, pushing himself just a few times more, feeling his limit. With his eyes half-closed, just continued hugging Yone’s body as he writhed in strong tension, clenching his fingers in the sheets until it hurt. Yone wanted to understand what happened yet half his brain insisted on the dizziness of the acts as if justifying to himself he shouldn't worry. He should just feel. That meant leaping into an almost dissociative state where he was a melding of pleasure and nothingness. Kayn had fucked the brains out of him and even euphoria was a state too hard for him to embody. Yone would come with the taste of the singer’s sweat still under his teeth, the heat of his skin still on his lips.
The softest skim of their mouths together was already two stars colliding, making light sparkle under closed eyelids. Kayn could wonder whether time twisted to make him notice every single thing in every single hue, and still didn't slow down. In enhanced and detailed fractions of seconds, the skimming turned to pressure, and pressure grew to releasing the tension of jaws to allow mouths to part. Part of the singer itched from an upcoming grin, but it was less than a twitch. Then yearning scratches all his soul and through the marks pure craving drains. His hands dripped to Yone's shoulders and rested on the elegant sculpture of his clavicles. Kayn’s breath was pushed out forcefully after an unknown amount of seconds holding it back, warmth hovering between their faces, but feeling cool blowing against the moisture of lips, and somewhere in between all that they had been enough to become one.
The hearts pounded inside their chests as if there wasn't enough blood to ever fully fill all the veins and arteries in their bodies, as if something was always missing. Always out of oxygen, always a sigh away from breathing enough.
They were way too young to die anyway. In fact, they were invincible, and they should remember that.
***
When Evelynn put her cell phone back in her pocket, each of her gestures seemed meticulously controlled so as not to turn into a blow, to contain the urge to stab something or someone. There were still too many people in the hallway for her and Akali to let their anger show. The two had just gotten out of a meeting that Yone was supposed to be at, but Yone just wasn't giving any news.
"He still isn’t answering ?" Akali approached Evelynn with a yellow smile and an agonized sentence between her teeth.
“My patience with Yone is gone. You better get ready, some drastic personnel changes are going to happen here.”
Perhaps Akali was one of the few people who didn't feel a shiver of fear when Evelynn and her powerful voice took on that violent tone.
“Evelynn, Kayn won’t accept it. Yone created this mess but he's the only one who can fix it now; you know . We know that our schedule is weeks behind, but Kayn accepted even starting therapy and went back to the psychiatrist, so it may be good on the longer term. This is going to derail without Yone.”
“Can't you see this is what he has in mind? He’s doing what he does best, which is manipulate people, and he’s doing it with Kayn as well, to create this dependence where he’s his savior. If he keeps on with this, he’s going to use Kayn as his weapon. Being Kayn's agent and a partner in the record company at the same time isn't going to work. Yone has always loved his job, but it wasn't what we had in mind from the beginning.”
Akali tried to contain the anxiety in her voice.
“This is dangerous, Evelynn...”
"I don’t fucking care!" Evelynn raged for a moment and then regained her composure. “This wasn't even supposed to be happening, I've already been watching it for too long. They both can't continue with what they have, at some point it will explode. We allowed it because we thought we still had Yone with us.”
“But he’s pushing us aside.” Akali added with a sigh, “And it’s been a while.”
“I no longer know what happens with them. I don't know a damn thing anymore. I personally never gave a shit about Kayn's fits. I just want to get out of this damn middle ground, and having Yone as an agent isn't helping me.”
“Do you think you can keep the two of them apart?” Akali placed her hands on her hips. She agreed with Evelynn; however, some evidence seemed to him just too difficult to ignore.
“If Kayn comes after his boyfriend, I'm going to need to do what Yone couldn't do: get him in line. And I think now I have a good negotiating tool.”
“Blackmail, you say?”
“Call it what you want.”
“You’ve already seen that doesn’t work with our rockstar.”
“It didn’t work, because Kayn never had anything to lose. Now it seems to me that he does.” Evelynn took a deep breath and that decision seemed to calm herself down. “I will need to notify Yone of certain changes; but most importantly, I need to have a very serious talk with Shieda Kayn.”
Chapter Text
The next couple of weeks were remarkably calm for Yone, which he knew to precede storms. Everything was going well with Kayn, and he had to go back to recovering the spaces he’s losing in his work as well, all while having to find another assistant who just wouldn’t be half as good as Irelia was; she would be quite a finding even when she started working with him, let alone now that she was experienced and with expertise in his specific work. Everything he had to work with was about creating safeguards for every silence of either Evelynn or K’Sante, as they also had left him alone now and it was never good news.
It was all very tiresome. Boring, even, which was way worse at that point. Because no matter what happened he would be looking forward to another night with Kayn, for them to numb each other with piano classes, jamming sessions, weed smoke, pointless meaningful conversation, all shades of the best sex they’ve ever had and entangled cuddly nights.
But not everything was like they wanted, and that was their damnation.
So there they were, with a masquerade ball scheduled for Halloween, on Friday. Halloween, which also happened to be Kayn’s birthday. October 30th, to be more precise.
When Yone had asked him what he wanted to do for his birthday, the answer ‘to be left alone’ was pretty quick in Kayn’s voice. There was the gentlest, almost timid ‘but you may or may not be an exception’ afterwards, and Yone took it to heart. There was no reason to overwhelm him with something he didn’t want to do while he was doing so well in his recover. Then, it was really weird that, when Akali handed him the invitation, he had accepted it pretty easily. Yone hadn’t been directly invited, but he was Kayn’s plus one, no doubt about that. So, when Kayn invited him, he was confused, to say the least. He would be completely sure that Kayn would say no or freak out about such an event right on his birthday. But all he said was, ‘it’s going to make your bosses happy, won’t it?’. And no matter how much Yone had told that what mattered, specially that day, was what he wanted, Kayn was decided
So he would have to take matters to his own hands, probably.
Yone also didn’t know that something came to Kayn’s mind, something that made him want that fancy party to come.
For the manager, then, a good part of the of the afternoon of the Saturday 29th was spent inside his bathroom and walk-in closet, wearing his burgundy robe. He had exchanged a lot of texts with Kayn through that day, on details like who would pick the other up, and mostly some witty one-liners from Kayn about the day and the party. He was in front of his big, illuminated white vanity, only listening to soft down-tempo electronica while getting ready. The soft glow of the afternoon sun filtered through the heavy drapes, casting a warm, golden hue across the room's lavish furnishings. While he kept the careful crafting of everything, he had a hair to do and make-up to choose, and he could have it done instead, but he would rather do it all himself that day. Then once more his phone buzzed.
[Kayn]: Has it arrived yet?
Frowning, Yone grabbed the device to answer.
[Yone]: WHAT has arrived?
The answer came straight away.
[Kayn]: Call me on vid when it does.
Yone scoffed when he had to see a fucking smirky emoji after that sentence of him.
[Yone]: tf are you up to
[Yone]: ?
Kayn only visualized, but didn’t respond any longer.
“You’re impossible.”, shaking his head, Yone tried to get back to his affairs, but his concentration was gone. Luckily, it didn’t take long for the doorbell to ring. As he heard it, even though his maid would answer and pick it up whatever it was for him, he couldn’t help but get up and walk to the front door or at least where he would meet the woman halfway.
As he did, by the bottom of the stairs, finding her boss there surprised his employee. She had a couple of white boxes with elegant golden drawings he knew very well.
“Sir,” the maid spoke softly, “A package has arrived for you.”
Yone held it and thanked, something uncanny even in himself about the feeling of being giggly about it.
You’re impossible, Kayn, was once again the thought that crossed his mind.
It was hard not to open it all up right there, but he returned to sit in front of the same vanity, leaving the boxes near his phone. He opened one of them, untied the ribbon and unfolded the layers of tissue paper. The contents revealed themselves slowly, and he held its breath as he unveiled a stunning red evening dress. The fabric shimmered like blood, its deep crimson hue rich and intoxicating. He pulled it out of the box carefully and it draped down to the floor, long, elegant, sensual.
Yone could laugh, and he couldn’t even tell why. His breath caught in his throat as he ran his fingers over the fine silk, feeling its luxurious texture, meticulously tailored to enhance his every curve. The plunging neckline and gleaming surface, promising to make him an undisputed center of attention at the masquerade ball. He opened the other box and saw a pair of equally crimson high heels, a slink back heel type exactly his number, and a smile played on his lips, a mixture of delight and mischief, basking on the image of the envious glances, the whispers of shock and judgement, and the knowing look in his eyes as he swept into the ballroom.
They would be the center of attention, definitely.
And what it meant made the smile vanish and he swallowed hard.
He held his phone, but hesitated in calling Kayn.
Before he could decide, Kayn called him instead, and he answered before he could think twice.
Kayn had the best cocky smirk on his face and Yone couldn’t help but snort.
“So. Did you like it?”
The smiles they wore were telling them out.
“You truly said you wanted to see me in a red dress.”
“Take it as a birthday gift for me.”
Yone couldn’t contain the smile.
“It is really beautiful, I'm excited to wear. But you really think I should be wearing this tonight, in front of everyone, by your side?”
“You should be stepping on me with these, if you ask me. But it’s me who is going to ask you. Should you be wearing this in front of everyone by my side?”
Nonchalant, Yone shrugged.
“I definitely shouldn't. There are many things I shouldn't be doing. Doesn't mean that I won't.”
Kayn smirked.
“I'll be picking you up at seven, then.”
“I'll be ready.”
A deep sigh as the call was over.
He’d better enjoy it.
***
A lot of times Kayn knew he was spending way too much time staring at the same walls, and that might have been about five percent of the reason why he agreed on leaving his house for a red carpet masquerade ball right on his birthday.
All of the rest was about Yone.
He wanted to do whatever was best for him, but he also wanted to play. He wanted to have it his way. And he was getting inspired to it.
Maybe he could try to be brave once more.
So when the limousine was leaving the property, he sighed at the last rays of that L.A. tequila sunrise, at how it shove over the mask he had chosen for the ball. In his hands, on top of his thigh, something he hasn’t worn in a long time. It felt wrong. He felt like he’s just a mockery of himself at that point. So he looked away, reached out for some champagne from the minibar stocked with crystal glassware and an assortment of beverages.
He pulls the curtain to block the light and sunk his body into the plush leather seat. Overhead, there are fiber-optic lights on the ceiling that mimic a starry night sky, casting a gentle, ambient glow throughout the cabin. Mirrored panels and high-gloss finishes on the walls reflect the light, creating a shimmering effect, and it was all kind of funny to him.
The “X”s on the eyes of his mask and the scribbly drawing of the menacingly smily mouth were glowing in the dark light.
“Who would say we would be here, old friend? And that you would be so flawlessly made now.”
But soon the limousine would stop in front of Yone’s house and he left the mask aside. He wanted to see him, enough to get out of the vehicle himself instead of just waiting for the driver to do it for them. Kayn was wearing an eye patch, an elegant mauve tuxedo, details in vibrant yellow like only perfectly tailored high fashion would be able to make work. And he looked amazing, outrageous and audacious, the way he could almost, almost feel comfortable with himself being.
Still, he felt like he could forget the power of clichés as Yone left the house and he could be seen entirely, in all his glory, like a work of art.
The way the dress enveloped his body tightly while still being loose enough to cascade charmingly all the way to the floor, the way it would be sliding on the floor from how long it was, but still there was a slit up to his thigh, all that made Kayn realize he could understand people who traveled the entire world just to enter a crowded museum in an imperialist country to see one specific stolen statue from a Renaissance queer sculptor of a Greek goddess.
While the high heels and the fine fabric looked sensuous and temptive, he held a red hand purse that looked sharp and the red mask Yone chose made him balance fierceness in that look the way only he could, that decision he makes every day of delivering perfection. It covered only around his eyes, a slight part of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, but there were two sets of tall pointy edges pointing up, one slightly open outwards and the other inward. He could look like an ancient demon, without losing elegance in those sharp, sleek lines that he chose.
It was exactly what he needed, seeing that amount of desire in Kayn’s eyes, even with the eye patch.
“You look fucking fantastic.”
“And I can say the same about you.” Yone cooed, something in that elegance looking even more provocative.
Inside the limousine, Yone made himself comfortable and it made him smile that there were two glasses of champagne served already. Right after, Kayn entered the vehicle.
“Didn’t you choose a mask-” Yone barely could ask about the rest of his outfit when Kayn glued his lips to his and kissed him. Caught by surprise, Yone thought of his lipstick but he couldn’t mind less if it stains Kayn’s lips. At that moment he mostly wanted it to be dyed red until there isn’t a single doubt that they jad been making out.
“Someone liked their gift, it seems.”
“Like is an understatement. You’re gonna make me act up.”
“Oh, will I?”
“Well, no. I’m misbehaving anyway tonight. If you want to give me the gift I truly want in this evening, I’ll tell you which it is.” He approached his lips to Yone’s ears and hushed a sentence to take his breath away. “I want to breed you inside the car while you’re still wearing this dress and put a plug in you so nothing comes out. What do you say?”
He didn’t know what has gotten into Kayn, and there was something different indeed in what he could see. Something more fiery, more intense, not just out of spite like it’s the best Kayn could do. He wasn’t complaining, not when Kayn showed a small velvet box, like a proposal, and open it up to reveal a gold butt plug. It made him chuckle as he accepted the gift.
“You are a romantic, aren’t you?”
***
The grand ballroom from the castle they were in was transformed into a hauntingly elegant scene. The walls were all draped in deep velvet curtains of midnight black and adorned with antique candelabras, their flickering flames casting dancing shadows that seem almost alive. The light was dimmer than usual in the crystal chandeliers that hang from the high ceiling. Guests glide across the marble floor, their faces hidden behind elaborate masks decorated with feathers, jewels, and dark lace, the occasional silver or gold embroidery. The costumes mix rich velvets, satins, and silks in shades of deep crimson, royal purple, and obsidian black.
In the corners of the room, clusters of dark roses and twisted branches are entwined with strands of pearls and black ribbons, centerpieces that are both beautiful and slightly eerie. The moonlight shining through the big windows played like Beethoven's sonata of the same name in Yone's mind. There was something different about Kayn, that he couldn’t put a finger on. And he wished that his discomfort were only because he was walking into a party with a gold plug up his ass under his black lace underwear after having gotten fucked raw inside a limousine. He had to get all his dress tidied up again and also do his best not to get hard again and that was the fun of such a reckless, absurd move they were playing.
But all of it was on the way Kayn put on his mask right as they finished, and also how he walked with his head held high on the red carpet, even when there were paparazzi. The way he placed his hand on his hips to guide him even though there were people seeing and registering it. Nobody could be completely sure that the man in that costume was truly Kayn, but it wouldn’t be too hard to connect the dots a little bit after.
Yone had felt his heart race, even though he never truly feels this nervous in front of people, or at all.
That’s it, it’s done.
Inside the party, the lights were very dim and still Yone caught enough attention. Something in Kayn made him want to grab him by the hair and take him out of everyone’s sights. They saw whoever they needed, and it took Kayn a lot of strength not to just give his back and leave when he saw Evelynn in the table they were supposed to be in.
It truly felt like Halloween and she was a ghoul made only of his memories, as she hisses and slithers and her body is scrapped tightly and sexily in a latex dress with an iridescent snake pattern that looked black but glistened in green and purple. It felt like that viper was waiting to prey on them, and she did not look amused with seeing them both. Her eyes rested so fiercely on Yone he felt like stepping in front of him to protect him from poison, but Yone wasn’t a damsel in distress. He stepped in and delivered the same confidence that he can wield like two katanas.
She was always a bad omen. When she appeared, Akali turned from a partner into his enemy. When she intervened, Zed was gone, or turned into something he didn’t want to see anymore.
Eventually, an hour or so into the party, Kayn did bring Yone somewhere more secluded, as he found a balcony open for whoever wanted to smoke, but with his hand on his lower back and not as outrageously as he wished.
They left for the big terrace with a balcony, where people smoked and talked to each other in circus. Funnily enough, there were more stars visible in the artificial light inside of the limousine than there was in that polluted sky. As they walked towards the elegant rails to admire the sight and leaned on their elbows, Yone just mentioned.
“You feel different today.”
For some reason, Yone expected Kayn to answer something sarcastic on how he isn’t usually wearing a mask, but instead, he just turned to him and asked in a tone that actually sounded honest.
“Do I?”
It was uncanny to look at that mask, at the white cover with just two glowy ‘X’s for eyes and the uncanny grin. There was barely a trace of a human behind it, so well-done it was.
“Yes. And it’s not about how you look. The way you were inside the limo, in front of Evelynn, the way you walk and your pace. I mean, you made me put a butt plug ”
Kayn chuckled, turning to the sight of the city that could be seen from the terrace, because Yone was way too beautiful under moonlight.
“This is Rhaast I’m wearing. The mask I used to wear when I was in Heartsteel”
It interested Yone immediately.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, kinda. If I can call it like that. I had it remade, I don’t have the original anymore. I’ve thrown it away a long time ago.”
“And how does it feel?”
The sigh was deep enough for Yone to hear through the mask.
“Like I’m a clown, if I’m truly honest.”
“It doesn’t look like it. You look strong and confident.”
“That is the point. Because then, when I feel weak, it’s not me anymore that controls it. It’s Rhaast. He is strong enough to protect me. And he does whatever we want, all the time.”
“Do you feel like Rhaast would want to be a part of this new album? That you’ll keep him around?”
“I think I’ll feel like a travesty.”
Yone shrugged.
“Well, maybe I’ll have to ask Rhaast instead, then.” He leaned in to speak into his ear, hushed, teasing. “Hey, Rhaast. Do you want to come back and show them all what you’ve got? That you still have it? Do you want to put them back on their knees?”
Kayn’s hands found their way towards Yone’s waist, and he seized it.
“Yes.” The voice that came from Kayn’s throat was so thick and deep that it truly felt like someone else, and it made Yone’s legs tremble. “I want to do this.”
The hands kept there, firmly, the way he knew how, and the way Yone didn’t even have time to think about when he was inside the limousine. There was once a Kayn that felt guilty when he touched him violently even without consent, or that actually lost his way so much that it was borderline losing consent. Maybe with Rhaast it was different. Maybe if he unlearns shame, he can find the way back into his own heart, to make himself a home.
Sighing, Yone lowered his eyes and opened his purse.
“You know… I wanted to wait for midnight, but I feel like this is the best moment to talk about it.”
Kayn just turned to him, attentive. Was it a gift?”
“There is a Pentakill concert in New York tomorrow.” He handed Kayn one of the two tickets he had bought. “A normal one. With the public, just like we're regular audience. I was going to give you a Mordekaiser mask as well, but I think that Rhaast is your best defense and disguise to just enjoy the show. And I have the flight ready, if you are.”
As Kayn accepted the ticket, he kept on staring at that piece of paper in his hand.
It was really unsettling not being able to see his expression, to infer what he was thinking about it.
“I don’t know if it would be too much. If it’s too soon or too close, or even if it’s triggering. But I considered that maybe-”
“Yes. Let’s do this. I have to do this.” He looked up at Yone once more, and his voice was deep, almost uncharacteristically deep. “Are you really going with me?”
A smirk, he once more shrugged.
“I’ll make the sacrifice. Nothing against their music, everything against about mosh pits.”
“I’ll protect you, don’t worry.” Kayn yanked him by the waist and pulled him against himself.
Yone didn’t disentangle. They were in the terrace of the party, only echoes of the music inside and their own heartbeats going along. As if there isn’t anyone else around.
“If I say I’m liking Rhaast, will Kayn be jealous?” Yone said, smiling.
Same deep voice, same cockiness.
“Kayn sometimes don’t deserve you, princess. I’ll treat you right from now on.”
Yone laughed, and Kayn laughed as well, as it was fun and silly, but, mostly, because they knew what it all meant. And because they were alone even in a crowd.
Or so they would think, obviously.
“Hello, guys.”
The feminine voice felt so out of place that even low it felt threatening and chilling. They turned suddenly, stepping out of the embrace almost in a jumpscare.
Evelynn laughed amused at their exaggerated reaction.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Kayn’s deep voice took over once more, and he stepped forward between Yone and her.
“Stopping you guys from making a mistake. Have you guys even seen Samira? I almost would conclude that you like being seen.”
No, they haven’t. They truly haven’t, but now they understood what it meant. That someone could be taking pictures of it all.
“What if we do? Let anyone gossip all they want. I don’t care that your new pet has a camera.” Kayn vituperated again in that same Rhaast voice.
Yone stepped to beside Kayn to make himself heard as well.
“Evelynn, You’re being a little bit inconvenient and you do know it. We could discuss this in the office. For now this is a matter that concerns both of Kayn and I only.”
“Oh, no. This is a matter for Kayn and his boyfriend.” She grinned. "But this is definitely not a matter for Kayn and his manager. It's either one or the other. If you even showed up in office, you’d know that. But I wanted to make sure you are aware of that. You made the wrong choice a long time ago, Yone, and if the talks of your little affair come out of here, Kayn will either have a new manager, or he'll have to find a new girlfriend instead. It can’t be both anymore, I'm done with your whims, start acting professional at once."
And as suddenly she winked, opening up the eeriest of smiles.
“Have a great party, boys.”, she still dared to say, relishing on the sight of their stunned expressions. She turned away and the serpents on the hem of her dress dragging on the floor felt realistic as they slithered. It also felt like she had poisoned the entire air of that night as well.
Chapter Text
Yone didn’t need to see Kayn’s expression under the mask to notice he was fuming. The breath was hard and heavy, his hands were closed into tight fists, he was so tense he looked like he would start shaking. He didn’t move, but he was facing the door through which Evelynn left, standing still.
The problem was that he was also a little bit too shocked to react properly as well, and as they were left by Evelynn in that terrace, he had a feeling that he was missing something important.
Evelynn was calling him whimsical, but who would be the truly capricious one when she just threw them a bomb like that and left with a smirk? Does it look like the type of thing she would do, to just make everyone aware of what she wanted from them?
What was she trying to accomplish there?
“Kayn, are you alright?”, he had to ask, because they had to talk about what just happened.
The answer came almost in a roar, and he took off the mask to properly look at Yone.
“Who that FUCKING BITCH think she is?”
“Keep it down, Kayn, come on!” Yone hushed, bringing him aside by the arm again. Kayn disentangled, and he wasn’t yelling, but his voice definitely wasn’t low either.
“I couldn’t care less about which fucker is hearing this! Why do you think I was walking into this fucking stupid place with you looking like a goddess by my side, to lay low? I don’t give two shits about what they’ll think of it all! We can do whatever the fuck we want!”
“I appreciate the compliment, but I don’t think she was bluffing when she implied we can’t be together while I’m your manager. So she made it clear which would be the consequences. I kind of expected it already, though, it even took way too long.”
It was a bit even more infuriating for Kayn to see Yone so nonchalant about the subject, even though he knew that he could be cold like that.
“If you expected, what’s the contingency plan, though?”
“Working on it still.”
“Weren’t you the one who’s got everything under control all the time?”
“I may be, but I’m not a machine.”, Yone said, still ironically emotionless about it all.
Kayn snorted, looking away.
“Told you that breaking up with K’Sante would be a bad idea.” Kayn snorted.
“You wanted us to continue hooking up, then?”
It was a bit twisted that somehow Kayn wanted to get some emotion out of him, and he cherished seeing the narrowing in the mauve eyes and the more serious tone.
“What I want or not clearly has never mattered for any of you. But those were your weapons of choice.”
“Yeah, I should’ve had a contingency plan, but it’s been a lot lately. A little bit more than I was expecting, I was mostly trying to get by.”
“Oh, yeah, it gets a bit harder when your managee is pointing a gun to their head in front of you. No psychiatric trainment for that in Yale, I assume.”
Kayn was putting his mask on again, and Yone sighed painfully.
“Don’t start, Kayn. You know that it isn’t what I-”
Rhaast’s mask on, it was really as if the whole tone could change, and he just interrupted Yone.
“Spare me and yourself of this. I can’t afford feeling sorry for myself and pitying you for being attached to me. You’re the one who bought into it, I’m not going to feel guilty for you, I have enough on my plate. You have a choice to just fucking leave whenever you want.”
The way Kayn said it while that mask was staring at him instead of the eyes he wanted to look into made it all even worse. He didn’t want to talk to Rhaast, he wanted to talk to Kayn. But if Rhaast is enough for Kayn not to wallow in his pain, then so be it.
“I’m pretty sure you don’t want me to leave, do you?”
“I surely don't. But not because I’ll kill myself without you, so don’t worry about that. You’re free to do whatever, including hiding out and keeping your job.”
“I love to hear that you don't depend on me to keep yourself alive, but not even I am arrogant enough to think I could stop you from doing whatever it is that you want. That being said, I would prefer it if you don't jump to ditching me as your first goddamn option. ”
Yone’s tone was severe now, as the last sentence seemed to be hissed under his teeth, and he stepped forward.
In truth, Kayn really did want Yone to stay whatever it takes. It was hard to even find a reason to not put a bullet inside his skull without him now, but that couldn't be the reason for Yone to stay.
But Yone had some more to say before he could think of the answer.
“I'm going to the bathroom, grab us two drinks and wait for me here for us to sort this out. We’re letting a snake poison us. I don't want to fight, much less when I am in the middle of a party with a butt plug up my ass.”
Yone gave his back, catwalking away perfectly in high heels after just delivering every order and showing how he can, indeed, keep in control in a really chaotic situation. And the way he mentioned almost professionally that it was weird to have his prostate stimulated while in the middle of a fight made Kayn forget everything else and start laughing.
So he laughed like a madman and it took almost all the time until Yone came back for him to calm down, thankfully after a waiter passed by and he could grab them a drink and find them a beautiful bench beside some dark flowers for them to sit on.
That was such an absurd situation to be in, but he didn’t have a lot of time to think it through as he was back to normal. He would just wait for when his company would come back walking as classy as ever as if he weren’t there to do something so filthy.
Kayn offered him the drink as he got close enough, mask up again.
“Did it ooze out of you? I should’ve been there to watch it.”
“Not in the mood for this talk right now.” Yone sentenced as he sat down beside him and accepted the drink. “But yes, it did.”
For Yone, finding that Kayn was actually there waiting for him and that he even grabbed them the drinks as he was told to was a really good sign. He really wanted to figure things out.
“You’re something else, Yone.” After scoffing, Kayn smirked and sentenced as he sipped from his drink as well.
Not putting too much consideration into what Kayn could mean, Yone just started explaining his train of thoughts.
“So. What is going on is that lately it’s everyone against me for a myriad of reasons. I’m not working how Evelynn wants me to, I’m making sure Akali isn’t the only one to , and… let’s just say that the fact we broke up is the last thing that concerns K’Sante about me still being his partner .”
“As I’ve already understood, you successfully scammed him to keep on leeching. Congratulations, every single one in that board deserves the worst. Just remember that you are with them as well now.”
“I’m aware. But that’s not all. You know Irelia? Working with K’Sante, too.” And probably Zed, too , Yone almost added, but decided he would do it in another moment. It was so hard for him to just be completely honest.
“She must be talented, to get to him even without the favors. I don’t think she has what it takes, even with those legs and ass she’s got.”
Not minding what Kayn had said, as he kept on being facetious about it all, Yone just continued.
“In a certain way, I know I’m making way too many enemies and I don’t have anyone else to back me up. I can still be lucrative for Evelynn, but I have to be loyal, otherwise she might sell me out. She’s a shark, she’s not afraid of it at all. And the first thing she has the power to do is find you another manager.”
“Did you really just swim with the pirañas without a backup plan?”
"I don’t have a plan itself, but they know I can play dirty. I just don’t want to have to show my hand."
“And blackmail their hearts out. That’s a pity, you’re sexy as you’re threatening someone.”
Yone sighed. He knew Kayn very well, but even so the flippant attitude was not what he wanted now.
“Yeah. I may have to do that sooner than I thought.”
Kayn drank some more from his glass, and, exactly as Yone hoped, he was back to the matter.
“So, let me just understand something. If you’re partners with them or whatever, you don’t have to be my manager, do you? Isn’t it just more work for you? Maybe more money, but you surely did what you did to take the bigger bite. Being my manager was just the means for you to get what you truly wanted."
“It really started out this way, just the means to an end. But if I’m not your manager anymore, I have no power anymore with a lot of production decisions. I’m just another one voting for bigger stuff. And the two of us have been doing some really good progress.”
“Just let them have it. I’ll just do whatever I want anyway and make the next person they choose quit already.”
“This didn’t work very well last time you tried to get a manager to quit, did it?”
Yone lifted his brows and Kayn understood it meant him. With that, he actually looked angered.
“What, are you afraid I’ll start fucking the next manager they send me?”
Yone sighed, looking away for a moment.
“Of course it isn’t what I mean.”
“What is it, then?”
The next sigh was actually a deep breath.
“It's more about who it could be. I think they may leave you with Akali for a while.” His eyes were back at gazing at Kayn. “But… I think that they will bring Zed back.”
Yone just waited and watched the other’s reactions, and for someone good as he was at that, it was still hard to read. The only thing glaring there was how Kayn had swallowed hard right as he heard the name.
His answer, both the content and the practical tone it took, was sudden and unexpected.
“So, for you not to have to quit being my manager, would it work if we just lay low? If I don’t go full bisexual publicly to avoid the PR drama and I call your friend Ahri for a couple of dates, would this be enough for them?”
It all made Yone hesitate, but he looked away and thought it through.
“I guess. Yeah, probably. I’d have to talk to Evelynn first thing on Monday.”
“I will do it.” Kayn said, looking away, and he kept on staring at some random point within the dim stars. "I'll talk to her."
“I think it’s better if I do it, Kayn.”
“It’s been a while since I last had a heart-to-heart conversation with this cunt. She has to hear a couple of things.”
Yone sighed and swallowed hard.
“Is it all to avoid Zed, or to bring him back?”
“Neither. Zed is on my past. I don’t want him back anymore, he’s always way too close and I realized he has way too much power over me. Even if he means well – and of all the vultures you all are, I still think he does – he is still too dangerous to have close. You are, too, way too dangerous and way too powerful. But at least you’re here with me now, and that’s what matters.” Then he put the mask back on, and it was all very symbolic. “I’m just tired of her, and she has to listen to some things first. I will date the models she want, I will sing the songs of the other puppy Akali she domesticated her way, her blackmail worked well. But she has to remember I’m not her puppet anymore, and I will raise hell with me if they forget it even for one second.”
Yone opened up a really bright smile, and it was indeed brighter than the moonlight.
“Let’s get out of this stupid party and throw our own, Rhaast?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” He already got up jumping to his feet. “Since we can’t leave together, I’ll meet you at my place?”
It was bittersweet, but there was sweetness in it nevertheless.
“Sure. I do want to please the birthday boys.” Yone winked.
Kayn put his hands inside his pockets and gave some steps back.
“I’ll send you a car in ten. Don’t be late, we want to have our cake on top of you by midnight still.”
***
The first lights of the morning seemed to shine like a drop of gleaming oil across the early morning sky. Under that oily light, the silver metal of K'Sante's Porsche gleamed. The businessman was in the driver's seat, both hands on the wheel, and he enjoyed feeling that machine glide over the urban asphalt. He liked how it brought a motorized vitality to his body.
It was Kayn’s birthday and someone was coming.
He was on his way to the airport to pick someone up — he made a point of going there himself instead of sending a secretary or a driver. There were some papers for him to sign on his desk, but it was too difficult to make a decision and it was Saturday already. So he just had to go out.
On the Friday, they had a meeting. When K'Sante had gotten the news, he hung up the phone and laughed out loud. Had he heard correctly? Yone would be removed from the position of Kayn’s personal manager? That was the most hilarious thing he'd heard in a long time! However, it wasn’t so pleasant to think that Evelynn was increasingly taking control. It wasn’t Yone, Akali, and Evelynn; it was just Evelynn, only her; it was easy to see, it was ridiculously obvious. Kayn and Yone were having an affair that was getting out of control — and that’s why Evelynn decided to remove him. She even said that she was going to make them choose, but the papers were ready already.
K'Sante wouldn’t even argue about that dismissal — he prepared his favorite pen to sign everything Evelynn sent. First, because there was no way to argue with her at the moment; second, because there was a morbid and childish joy inside him at the thought of gloating over Yone’s suffering.
However, he had someone to pick up at the airport, and there was no more joy left to laugh. He ran a hand through his hair and put both hands back on the wheel. He stopped at a traffic light, the smooth hum of the engine purring in his ears. He sighed.
Yone had gotten close to Evelynn and assured her that he could deceive me. He did. But surely, he still owes that bitch a lot, and he will be made to pay.
After leaving the car with a valet, K'Sante had his hands shoved into the pockets of his dress pants, walking towards the arrival gate.
K'Sante stopped in front of the special gate, and within minutes, in a gray suit, carrying a large suitcase and a wide leather briefcase, the man K'Sante had been waiting for appeared. After a direct flight, Zed was on Californian soil again, approaching with calm steps.
“Zed.” K'Sante gave a courteous smile. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
“K'Sante himself picking someone up at the airport.” Zed smiled wryly under his beard and shook his hand in a polite greeting. “That’s not something you see every day.”
“Let’s say I owe a minimum of humility to someone who agreed to help me even after being removed.”
“You didn't have to. I only accepted it because you offered me a lot of resources.”
“Because you told me you could get information, and in all these years, I’ve never had reason to doubt your work.”
Zed wasn't having it, but what else could he expect from K'Sante anyway? Choosing between him and Evelynn was like choosing between getting mauled by a polar bear or by a tiger.
“I do have information. And some measures will need to be taken. Have you ever heard of The Prophetess?”
“The gossip bloggers with the photos of Yone and Kayn?”
“They are much more of a headache than simple bloggers. I’ll explain on the way. I have some information that we have to work with asap.”
“Speaking of Yone and Kayn...” K'Sante drawled almost provocatively, “I have jaw-dropping news for you.”
“Tell me.” Zed didn’t believe anything could surprise him.
“Yesterday, Evelynn herself was starting the process to remove Yone as Kayn’s agent and manager.”
Zed stopped walking immediately, frowning. K'Sante had taken two steps before noticing and turned back to Zed, who was indeed slack-jawed.
“What? How come?”
“I was like that too. It seems they want to focus on the work of the record label. I mean, it will sound stupid and obvious, but it seems like that’s all they want, really. To remove one of Yone’s distractions."
Looking forward again and starting to walk, his steps slowed, Zed kept the troubled expression on his face.
“And where does Kayn fit into this?”
“I can’t see any more plans of Yone to get close to Kayn with the intent of using him or taking advantage of him. I think Yone is just Evelynn’s puppet at this point and they have something between them to sort out. They no longer want anything directly from Kayn.”
“You want to believe in Yone’s innocence because you liked him, K'Sante, and that would hurt your pride less.”
Zed could be extremely unpleasant when he started poking at those truths.
“And you want to believe Yone is guilty of everything, even global warming, because he took your job.” K'Sante rolled his eyes. “Has it ever occurred to you that the reason he’s so interested and involved with Kayn might actually be emotional?”
“Now even you are going to believe in Yone’s feelings? Even you?” Zed emphasized the last word with sharp irony. “Haven’t you learned anything yet?”
“Zed, you were away these months. You’re good, but accept that you don’t own the truth. We’re here to solve our problem with Yone and get him out of the picture, but it seems he’s not our biggest problem. So, we need to reassess our plans. If you’re going to keep being so stubborn and thinking only you can solve everything, you can take the first flight back home.” K'Sante finished, quickening his pace again. Zed followed him and gave two sympathetic pats on his shoulder.
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I have to tell you, K'Sante.”
Chapter 39
Notes:
I just want to warn you that the content of the memories that will appear in this chapter can be really sensitive. Keep in mind the trigger warnings of the tags and the note in the beggining of the story.
I hope you all enjoy the read nevertheless.
Chapter Text
Under Rhaast’s protection, Kayn knew he was safe enough. He couldn’t be traced to that alter-ego or imagery. Underneath that mask and inside that purple hoodie he was anonymous, he could be just about anyone.
Still, the moment he stepped out of the car that had taken him and Yone from the hotel to the parking lot of the venue for the Pentakill concert and he saw the crowd, he froze in place.
There were several things going through his mind, and he had been really thankful that there were also many things happening on the outside, enough for his perception to take over his emotions rather than the other way around.
Maybe if he ever found peace, he would mistake it for a threat.
It was his birthday.
From the moment they left the Halloween party the day before, it felt like both he and Yone didn’t allow themselves to stop and think. Monday would come with crucial decisions to be made, and the hour it took for Yone to get to his place was when he mapped out and scripted out everything he was going to say to Evelynn and the deals he was willing to make.
As soon as he saw Yone again, they were into each other’s arms with not a single space in between their bodies or their thoughts.
He could remember it pretty clearly how that day ended and his birthday began.
"Five." Yone’s voice next to his ear seemed to vibrate on Kayn’s skin. Extreme sensitivity, goosebumps with hairs standing on end, short breaths, sweating, legs spread and arms still, under the body of Yone, who snuggled up to his side, sweetly preventing him from moving.
Those seconds were the longest of the entire night.
"Four," He whispered the next second, licking the curve of Kayn’s ear, his hand moving slowly, his touch too light. The singer trembled slightly, fearing that any spasm or sudden movement against his hands would cause him to succumb. He was so, so close.
"Three...", another whisper and Kayn’s heart pounding in his chest.
Yone’s fingers inside him moved calmly and precisely. His other hand, holding the base of his throbbing, almost painful erection, was delaying his orgasm after keeping Kayn edging for almost half an hour.
"Two..." His voice now already seemed surreal, transcending his reality, and Kayn whimpered softly, in despair; if he had the voice or the breath for that, he would beg a lot. But he was there, eyes closed tightly, his entire body tensing, unable to think, unable to react.
"One."
Kayn held his breath, feeling everything take him like a wave. It was as if those moments had concentrated all the possible and impossible excitement of all those infinite seconds of the countdown.
Midnight.
The shivers went up and down inside his body so strongly that Kayn felt himself freezing from the chills and at the same time burning inside. The desire was blinding and maddening, and he was just waiting for permission.
"You can come," Yone said, stroking his erection just a little stronger, and it was indirectly, through his fingers inside him, that Kayn would reach his peak. Kayn couldn't help but let out a loud moan as his legs shook and he pressed his head against the pillow with his mouth wide open. In Yone’s eyes, there was that admiration overflowing, as if he was seeing a sweet and not a pornographic scene like that. It was also a way to not get too physically attached to it, so that his own desire would blind him and lead him to seek relief in some way. When he focused on how much it satisfied Kayn, he was able to maintain some control - not that they weren't as hard as possible, of course.
Overcome by spasms, Kayn released his body with a truncated exhale - the pleasure in a slow, thick, dense and overwhelming wave, spreading through his insides and his limbs, exploding inside his heart. Hot, strong and wonderful. Unbelievable, always.
Sometimes he was afraid to open his eyes and discover that he was only dreaming, but he did not believe that his mind would be capable of producing something like that on its own.
Sex could be so different from whatever it is that he had experienced up to then. From fucking Yone in a red dress inside a limousine as if he were a random hookup to having him dominate his every move and thought, it felt like he could just let it go, and let it be. He could just let it be as they fell asleep high on weed and woke up also sort of entangled. When they had breakfast by the pool, or when they went to their private flight. When they had lunch in a plane and crossed the country together, when they went to their hotel to find yet another great view of the SoHo.
Again, it was easy to forget everything with him by his side, and that’s the magic of addiction; which would be the other name he calls this blind and crazy infatuation.
But then he was staring at the Pentakill luminous sign and his legs were suddenly too heavy to walk. All those fans gathered outside the venue, the misshaped blob of black T-shirts emblazoned with Karthus’s skull, Kayle’s wings and Mordekaiser’s helmet, people wearing Sona’s chains around their necks walking really close to him. Hints of conversations buzzing as some fans discussed their favorite songs and the line for the common area was turning around the venue.
And he couldn’t move.
“Is everything alright, Kayn?”
Yone’s voice sounded ethereal, and Kayn felt the slender fingers touching his own. It was a colder day and Yone was wearing a black hoodie with the hood on, hiding himself a bit as well since his hair is always kind of showy.
Kayn grabbed that hand, shook his head and forced himself to walk again. To deflect, he asked Yone back as they resumed walking to the VIP line.
“I should ask that to you. You’re always kind of cold, but your hand is freezing .”
“Hm. I’m not very used to big crowds like this.”
“Are you nervous ?” Kayn chuckled, what become a laugh as Yone pulled his hand back defensively, as if to not be read.
“I’m not nervous .”
“Are you sure you wanna go? This wasn’t supposed to overwhelm you.”
Yone narrowed his eyes.
“I’m the one supposed to ask you this.”
Unbeknownst to Yone, Kayn pouted, puting his hands inside his hoodie's pockets.
“I’m nervous, too. But in a good way.”
He wasn’t exactly lying, but he felt that the definition he gave was far from being really precise.
“That’s what matters. For me, it’s worth the experience. Besides, it’s not that serious. It’s not like a phobia or anything.”
“You’re gonna like it. You like good music, and they are the best.”
“Haven’t you ever met them?”
“Like, actually meet the band?” Kayn turned to Yone, who nodded. “No.”
“It would be really easy to arrange that. You could have them play at your birthday party next year, you know?”
“Nah.” The singer shrugged. “Considering they probably know who I am, this could go in only one of the following scenarios: They know me, and are indifferent, which would hurt a little; they know me, and they hate me, which would hurt a lot ; or they know me and like me or even are fans, which would make me feel super awkward. I bet on the second option. Can you truly imagine Karthus or Kayle listening to my albums?”
Yone pouted.
“Well, it’s not just because they play metal that they can’t enjoy listening to other stuff.”
Kayn snorted, muffling one acid laugh.
“Yeah, I can see Mordekaiser singing to me in the shower. I guess it’s just to imagine him in the shower.”
Yone chortled, feeling a bit of the bittersweet taste in his mouth because of what it implied.
“I could see them liking your previous albums. Reaping Slash, for example.”
“Exactly. Even if they had liked it once, they wouldn’t like what I’ve become.”
It took Yone a few more steps and a longer while to answer, which was a bit more than Kayn could deal with.
“That’s what I was hoping you find in here again. Your way back to your own truth.”
Still feeling a bit light-headed, Kayn just nodded and they walked to the way smaller line for their area. Not that they couldn’t find a way to just be let in without any hassle. But the whole idea was to have the authentic experience; the only intervention Yone had before buying the tickets was making sure nobody recognizing Kayn would give it away at all. So they also had better not continue that kind of conversation either, and it was for the best for everyone involved.
As the doors finally opened, the crowd surged forward. Security was tight but efficient, checking tickets and wristbands with practiced ease, and it was just one moment of shock from one of the security guards from seeing the identification before Yone came forward; that was something he had dealt with previously, and the managers were aware not to make it a big deal nor ask him to remove the mask in front of other people.
The energy inside the venue was even more intense, and the walls pulsed with the low thrum of bass, a taste of what was to come. Massive speakers flanked the stage, which was lighted up in deep reds and purples, lit by spotlights that cut through the darkness.
They went to the bar to get something to drink, and seeing Yone about to drink cheap beer amused Kayn a lot, not more than seeing him laugh because Kayn had to put a straw in a can of beer so that ‘Rhaast’ could drink without lifting the mask.
Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and the crowd erupted in a roar.
It was time.
Yone felt himself shake in a really weird type of anxiety. Not because he was a fan, because he was at most just positive towards Pentakill, not that much of a big deal to him. And also not because the fear of the tightness of the space or the violence of the crowd, because it was at most a brief concern.
His fear was that he was betting way too high bringing Kayn there, and the fact that the singer could be recognized was the least of the concerns. That band probably inspired him throughout his life, but it was also attached to memories of people he lost, enough for him to be listening to them as he intended to end his own life. It could be enough to shake it all off, or to trigger him irreversibly.
He gazed at Kayn as Kayn stared at the stage. Through the darkness and the mask, he couldn’t see his face.
The expression that Rhaast was hiding was of a stunned man, whose heart beat way too fast and too loud. The stage was shrouded in darkness, and for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of pounding hearts and held breaths. The uncanniest sound of Sona’s keyboard resonated all over the venue like the chant of a siren. Then, with a flash of light and fire pyres, a guitar riff dominated their perceptions and the band exploded onto the stage.
Kayle’s voice cut through the air like a blade, powerful and raw, her eerie imagery almost floating through smoke, while right behind her on the big screen flashed the images of her emblematic wings as she emerged from the fog singing the first lines of Tear of the Goddess. Mordekaiser’s sharp and relentless guitar riff echoed alone through the darkness as the lights flashed back, backed up soon by the depth of Yorick’s bass. Olaf’s drums thundered end reverberated everywhere, matching the fans own heartbeats, and that was it. They dominated the stage, as well as everyone’s attention.
Or almost everyone.
Yone was still attentive looking at Kayn. The audience was a sea of raised fists with a chant of the lyrics screamed on the top of their lungs. Yet, Kayn just kept on staring at the stage, unmoving.
The chorus came, and, with it, what actually brought goosebumps to Yone. Kayn’s voice came through as he began singing along. Even if timid, it couldn’t be mistaken if someone was truly close like he was.
Let it be. Let him sing.
By the third song, there wasn’t any more restrain in how much Kayn would let his emotions burst through his throat. A bit loose as he felt that everything was finally ok, for Yone it was as if like even the mere couple of beers he drank would be enough to leave him inebriated. Kayn was having fun and the band members were beautifully cathastrophic, their personas amplified by the theatrical lighting. Between songs, Karthus would rile up the crowd, his voice a growl that resonated with the audience, inciting them to cheer even louder.
The setlist unfolded, and the energy never dropped, until that point.
The Lightbringer was the first song that Kayn had performed. In that specific bar in Seattle. That one where they all met.
Kayn dropped his hands along his body, keeping himself up only barely on his boots because balance did its thing. Everything started sounding way too loud, and, because of that, deafening; and Kayn’s focus was only on the stage, when everything that was way too much and he just turned into the things he knew in his own world.
The days they he blasted Pentakill inside their vans, and they had too little money to go see them in person. The other day when they crashed the concert jumping the fence nearby and did their best to enjoy as much as they could.
Sett’s stupid jokes, Aphelios’s snarky whispers.
Ezreal’s smiles.
Ezreal was crazy good. His fingers many times bled when he was playing the drums, and they were always bandaged.
The days he laughed without feeling guilty about it. The days his heart wouldn’t sink inside his chest at the thought of having the world at his feet, but instead it gave something worth waking up for.
And the days he ruined everything. With too many deadly, mortal reminders.
That Seattle warehouse was an accomplice, a witness. For many afternoons, experimental music and Heartsteel’s repetitive rehearsals of trial and error were the notes reverberating inside it. But the last times Kayn’s voice would echo through those walls wouldn’t be the result of any song.
On the last night Kayn would set foot in that warehouse, the sounds would be distorted, unsettling, dissonant. It would be one of those nights purged by Seattle's endless rain, personified by only two men shouting, fists clenched and teeth gritted, hurling final words of anger, frustration, and resentment at each other. They threw atrocious sentences at one another, the kind that formed the typical soundtrack of broken hopes and shattered futures.
Ezreal had his back to Kayn, wearing an ironic smile that held disdain, indignation, and frustration all in one. Kayn was circling the drum kit, pacing sharply between the instruments.
"Fine, Ezreal! If you think it's that trivial, why don’t you all just go back to Tommy’s, crack open a beer, and toast to the band you only formed to pick up chicks? I’m trying to have a future!"
“I’ve spoiled you too much, haven’t I?” Ezreal rolled his eyes and shook his head, placing his hands on his hips. “You certainly think you're the most essential person in the world, the greatest artist on the planet!”
“I may not be, but I wasn’t the one who screwed up a song in the middle of an audition! We played Lightbringer one million times, Ezreal, how could you fuck this up so bad? Are you even a fucking drummer?”
“I was nervous and the song is hard, why do you have to be SO CRUEL?”
“THEN BE A LITTLE MORE AFFECTED!” Kayn matched his violent tone, and there was no competing with him. “You know you blew a one-of-a-kind opportunity, and it seems like you don’t even care! You need to focus!”
“I do care, Shieda, but not like this! You’re not dreaming anymore, man, you’re obsessed!” Ezreal turned to him, and every one of his movements was tense. “This is making you sick, you're losing your mind! This is supposed to be our life, not something to drain it away!”
“That’s your consolation speech? Is that what you tell yourself to convince yourself you’re not just a fucking loser? That’s all you do all the time!”
Kayn’s face contorted, and he pulled his leg back, winding up for a kick. He struck the bass drum, smashing it, still managing to hear, amidst the booming, apocalyptic sound that erupted in the pavilion, Ezreal’s protest roar.
Kayn then gave his back, consumed by rage. The next moment, he felt the drummer’s hand clamp down on his shoulder and spin him around. Ezreal had his teeth clenched tightly and landed a punch on Kayn’s mouth.
“You think the damn band is yours, don’t you?” He yelled at him, who held his hand to his face and crouched, recovering his balance. “You think Heartsteel needs you?”
“And you?” Kayn shouted back, kneeling on the ground. “Do you need me?”
“FIGHT BACK!” Ezreal kicked him in the leg, but there wasn’t even a tenth of his strength in that blow. “Come on, Rhaast!”
“You can break all my bones, Ezreal, I will NEVER hit you back!”
The drummer’s eyes began to glisten, and he gritted his teeth. He pointed at the smashed bass drum, his hands still trembling.
“You think that didn’t hurt like a punch to my face? Why did you do it? Why are you acting like this?”
“Because I’m tired of this! I’m tired of being a failure, and I’m tired of depending on you! You’re everything I have and everything I love most in all my fucking miserable life, and I’m tired of that too! I’m tired, Ez, TIRED OF NEVER WINNING!”
Ezreal relaxed his jaw and unclenched his fists. He extended his hand to help him up from the floor.
“We’ll try one more time. Please.”
Ezreal grabbed his hand and used it to pull himself up. The throbbing pain he felt was dissipating, but the bitterness fed off it.
No, Ez. I will try one more time.
I will.
Not we.
And not even that many years after taking that decision, there Kayn was. Watching Pentakill, and, underneath the mask, tears started rolling down his face, the breaking of an unstoppable dam. But Rhaast was there to protect him. Nobody needed to see him cry like the defenseless child he still was, in the middle of a crowd while trying to keep on singing. His voice would be muffles, his cries would be his own, and maybe he could trick even Yone.
So he sang, and he sang a little more, and a little louder, and a little heavier, and heavier. Pushed by the shoulders amidst the petty crowd, he screamed with all he’s got, and he banged his head, and he cried as much as he could, in front of everyone, and, at the same time, no one at all.
As life always feels.
The thing was, music gave him something to live for.
He was barely fourteen. Nauseous and dizzy, he sat on the floor, legs bent, in the dark, with the morning unable to penetrate through the always-closed windows. His wide, unblinking eyes darted over the dirty floor, over the mud made from spilled alcohol and the red dust of merciless boots. His slippery, stained hands gripped the handle of a knife.
"Why do you let these people in here?" Kayn’s tearful whisper to his mother was unprecedented. He had never asked that question before, always too afraid. Now, he had mustered the courage. More than courage: the impetuousness in his bloodshot eyes was pure madness. The insanity that made his hands tremble, tensed his legs, and caused the hatred to boil in his veins.
A tall woman, her eyes dry with numbing indifference, crossed the doorway with a dishcloth in her hands.
"Oh, there you are, you fucker. I do it because we have to keep this place going. Or do you think we get food from the trash? Get up and help me clean."
"Why do you let them do that?" He repeated, sniffling. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hands to dry them, but ended up smearing his face with red.
She walked around the table. Kayn's arms were covered in blood, staining the floor in small, sticky crimson puddles.
"You started with that cutting crap again?" She threw the cloth she had in her hands onto Kayn. “Clean yourself and the fucking floor. I don't know what to do with you anymore.”
"FUCK YOU!" Kayn bellowed, throwing the cloth back at her. He jumped to his feet, trembling. A few drops of blood slid down his arm and dripped.
"Shut up, Kayn, he's sleeping!" She snapped back harshly.
"Oh, he's sleeping?" With a deranged, psychotic expression, he tightened his grip on the knife with his bloody fingers. "Great."
"Where are you going with that knife?" When she finally noticed the weapon in the blonde’s hand, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. Kayn felt her hand on his wounded arm and realized that, although confused, she was determined to stop him.
"Oh, now you're so brave! Why didn't you do anything, ANYTHING to stop your husband and those men here?"
"We need money, you ungrateful asshole!" She wrestled the knife from his slippery hand and tossed it away. "If you stopped with this nonsense, you could find a job outside and get us out of this mess! But you can't even do that, and you pretend you’re not the one who prefers being pampered by everyone!”
Kayn’s now-free hand clenched into a fist and landed a punch squarely in his mother's face. She lost her balance, falling onto the chairs, knocking over one of the empty bottles on the table.
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?" She tried to get to her feet, and finally there was something of fear in her eyes.
"Why do you defend that guy, HIM of all people? He can’t find a job either, he's a drug addict working for a fucking loan shark. You’re a drunk, and me, I did everything I could! I cried and begged you for help, and you pretended what people did to me wasn't your problem!" His eyes filled with tears again. "I’m your son, I’M THE ONE YOU SHOULD HAVE PROTECTED!"
"Where is this coming from, this madness? You've never done this, Sh—" A push from Kayn’s heavy hand struck her in the shoulders, and this time, she let out a high-pitched scream of despair, calling for her husband, the moment she fell to the floor. In response, the hallway door burst open.
"What the hell is going on here?" A male voice, the soundtrack of his nightmares, filled the room. Upon hearing his stepfather’s voice, Kayn didn’t even turn to look. He grabbed a chair in front of him and swung it, smashing the piece of furniture into his stepfather’s body. The air filled with a cracking sound from the impact; it could have been wood splintering or the man’s bones breaking.
"Why don't you pay with YOUR body for your damn drugs?" Kayn shouted at the man who had fallen to the floor, writhing in pain.
"Stop this, Shieda!" His mother tried to stop him, only to be pushed down again.
What happened next, Kayn could never fully define. It had been a blur of groans of pain, screams, exclamations, more blows, and the dizziness from losing his boiling blood. A black haze of his dizziness that was only pierced by the scream erupting from his own throat.
"I AM WORTH MORE THAN THIS!" That’s what Kayn shouted as he dropped the chair to the floor and finally stopped. "AND I’LL PROVE IT TO YOU, I’LL PROVE IT TO THE WHOLE WORLD!"
However, his words echoed only for himself. The two of them laid on the floor, alive, but knocked out by the sheer force that Kayn’s hatred had infused into his muscles, and it would be the last he would hear from them.
Even when his sight was more than just metaphorically red, since his eye was hurt, Kayn would wash his hands, throw on a long-sleeved shirt to cover his cuts and blood, and steal all the money he could find that had been collected the night before. He’d shove whatever belongings he could into a bag, grab his guitar, and hit the road, even if it meant walking and running until he collapsed from exhaustion. From that day on, he would never set foot in that house again. He would also never hurt himself like that again, because damage to his arms might cause him to never be able to play the guitar again.
Music gave him something to live for.
And as he screamed to Lightbringer’s chorus, he broke down and hugged himself as tight as he could, fingers digging into his own arms.
He did everything he promised he would do.
Nobody deserves the success they have, nobody in this god-forsaken world.
He did.
Nobody thrives so absolutely after surviving what he had been through.
He did.
He was stepped on, and he stepped on others. Where people were living, he was fighting a war, with all its cruelty and horrors. Where people barely make it to the end of the month, he was a beacon of a wonderful excuse in a blatantly false meritocratic world. There was a moment in his life where he was just another one in the crowd, someone only friends and family would remember, another random person just as talented he is and with just as many traumas and will to succeed as he does. Their stories will never be heard. Their talents will never be shared.
But Shieda Kayn’s will.
Call down the reckoning
To bring back hope and peace
Restore our gloria
To live forever
It was right in the middle of spiralling inside himself when he was yanked back to reality and his eys snapped open. Yone was right in front of him, his hand on his shoulders to try to get him to look at him, even if through Rhaast he couldn’t look back at Kayn’s eyes.
Yone.
Always as beautiful as a blade, as haunting as afterlife. As cunning as a demon, as relentless as the night. Yone was infuriating and fascinating, easy as laughter and complicated as life.
“Are you okay?” Yone yelled to be heard through the deafening music. Are you feeling unwell?”
He didn’t have to hug himself only.
Yone was caught by surprise when Kayn threw himself into his arms and hugged him. Suddenly, and so tight that he made it hard to breathe. Kayn cupped beside Yone’s ear to speak so he would be heard better.
“Thank you for this.” He breathed in in hiccups, but dry now, because he wasn’t crying any longer. Instead, his voice grew in anger. “Thank you for everything .”
Yone’s eyes widened, and he thought he understood at least a little bit. He corresponded the best he could while his arms were still gripped tight inside that embrace.
“You don’t have to thank me.”
Yone closed his eyes and sighed, so damn relieved.
Under the mask, Kayn’s eyes were flaming.
“We’ll show them, Yone. We’ll show them all what I’m made of.”
Chapter 40
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The glass doors of the sleek, modern skyscraper whooshed open as Kayn stepped inside, not bothering taking his sunglasses off. Heads turned instantly, and people held the gaze. His streetwear with boots, baggy pants and tight T-shirt was unfitting in a place of tailored suits under the lobby’s soft lighting, but since it was him, it didn’t matter. Everyone recognized him, of course — they always did. But he paid no mind to the wide-eyed receptionist or the murmurs that followed his every step, because his stride was long and deliberate and he knew very well where he wanted to go.
He bypassed security with a flick of his wrist, ignoring their kind attempts to ask more to him. The elevator doors opened as if they were waiting for him, and he stepped inside, pressing the button for the top floor without hesitation.
When the elevator doors slid open, he ignored the secretary’s calls and marched straight into Evelynn’s office without so much as a knock.
The room fell silent, as she was in the middle of a meeting with two men, who sat on the opposite side of her wide, sumptuous table. Evelynn, mid-sentence, froze in disbelief as the singer sauntered to beside the table, removing his sunglasses at last and leaving it on her desk, on which he leaned his hips. Every move of his signaled that he didn’t just feel welcome — he acted like he owned the place.
Staring at the two other men, he smirked.
“I don’t know you guys. But I don’t think you’re any of the big fish. You can all wait outside while I have just fifteen minutes with the boss, can’t you?”
Evelynn’s secretary then hastily came through the door, apologizing, knowing that her boss would probably kill her later for not stopping Kayn from interrupting her meeting.
“Hello, Kayn.” Although smirking, Evelynn narrowed her eyes, ignoring the secretary and resting her viper eyes on the singer. “A big, dramatic entrance really is your style.”
His smirk widened into a grin.
"Whatever you're discussing, it's irrelevant now. I’m here."
Like an insect imitating a flower to eat a bug, Evelynn mimicked Kayn’s grin.
“As your fame precedes you, Kayn, I do believe my guests would be kind enough to give us just some moments to discuss.”
They exchanged some more casual words that Kayn didn’t pay attention to and the two left the room. Evelynn clasped her hands, slowly interlacing her fingers until the claws she had for nails were pressed against her own skin.
“How was the weekend in New York, Shieda?”
Kayn clenched his teeth as he threw his body in one of the chairs that the men had been sitting on. She wasn’t supposed to know about their trip. They didn’t warn almost anyone; even if everyone from his home ratted him out (they always did), the only information they were supposed to have was that he would be on a trip and he would be back by Sunday night.
And about the weekend? It was great, even though he and Yone mostly slept together on Sunday, in the very literal sense.
The concert had been intense for both. Yone wasn't used to this type of crowds, and Kayn… Kayn had been crowded with emotions. By the end, he and Yone sat down on the curb smoking a cigarette and it was another time where Yone had to agree on having fast food.
The night was shiny, but blurred, amidst cigarette smoke and the late night traffic. The city refused to sleep, and so did them until the night sky turned purple.
Yone exhaled slowly, the smoke curling into the air like his scattered thoughts. He watched the city lights flicker in the distance, fading into a haze of neon and fog. Kayn leaned back against the cold metal of the streetlight, his eyes reflecting the lights above.
The distant sound of cars filled the air, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The world around them felt oddly distant, as if they were in their own bubble. The purple hue of the early dawn crept into the horizon, turning the sky into a shifting canvas of colors.
As they walked down the dimly lit street, the city’s pulse still thrumming around them, Yone glanced at Kayn. He had always been wild, unpredictable, a storm barely held together. But tonight, he seemed… vulnerable, like a wire stretched too thin. Yone wondered how long it would be before that wire snapped.
The morning light was creeping closer, casting long shadows along the streets, but neither of them was in any rush. For now, they walked, two figures in the fading night, neither ready to face the day that was slowly waking around them.
Now it was nine in the morning and not the Sunday anymore. It was Monday and he had some things to set straight with Evelynn. And nothing that happened in New York was any of her business.
“Let’s get straight to the point. I’m here to talk about Yone.”
“Obviously.” She answered, deadpan, but the smirk had remained there, as she truly had her own agenda in there. “Do you know who arrived back in L.A.?”
Kayn narrowed his eyes.
“What?”
“Your former daddy is back. Zed.”
The way her glare drilled into him was as if she wanted to drain every drop of whatever reaction she could from him.
Kayn tried not to give her the taste of it, but controlling his emotions hasn't been his best feat. So she could see it as his breath accelerated, he swallowed hard and clenched his teeth once more.
“Good for him. Not that I give a fuck.”
“You do, though.”
“Maybe. But stil Il have nothing to do with this. I don't want him back as my manager and he had never been my friend before, so I have no idea as to why you’re telling me that.”
She then chuckled and leaned back on her chair.
“I was just trying to see if you knew about it or were the one behind it. But you looked honestly surprised.”
Kayn lifted one brow and mirrored her movement.
“Oh, so it isn't your doing. K’Sante?”
“Maybe. Who knows?” She said singsong, in a way that made Kayn think that she did know.
Could be a bluff, though.
There was no trying to win with Evelynn in her own field. She was way too insidious to be dealt with like that. So, Kayn reminded himself, he had to go back to his point.
“Great, so fuck Zed, because I couldn't care less, I really don’t want anything to do with him and you’d better not bring him to me. Let’s talk about the threat you threw our way during the Halloween party.”
“And what about it do you want us to discuss?”
“I want to keep Yone as my manager. Not Zed, not Akali, not Irelia, not anyone else. I’m in a crucial moment and he’s the only person who will be able to make it work for me.”
“That’s kind of cute.”
Kayn ignored her teasing.
“So, I understand you have demands, as you all do all the time. You want me to behave in a certain way, and, to be honest, I truly wish you all to fuck off, but I’m willing to walk the line again, under certain terms. Which I will bring contractually, but eventually boils down to Yone as my manager and more creative independence.”
“It’s fun to see how far gone you are, Shieda. What are you willing to do to get this deal?”
“Hiding our relationship not to bring any drama my way. Go out with some girl for you all to take your pictures. Getting back to the music video, if it’s still up, to get this finished in a couple of weeks. ”
“And my guarantees are…?”
“Well, none. But give me a couple of weeks and watch as I obey like you love it do much. That's what you’d love to see, right? Me on a leash again?”
She sighed loudly and deliberately, and hissed within a grin.
“You do bring a hard bargain, baby boy. I can't deny anything when you beg me like that. But you know that it’s not only for my pleasure.”
Kayn snarled, running out of patience.
“Isn't this what you all fucking wanted? That I stop giving you all trouble, that I get back to having your hands shoved up my ass for me to be your muppet? Zed couldn’t get me back on track, your perfect handsome nepobaby could. I’m not doing cocaine anymore. I’m actually better.” While the first statement was true, he wasn’t very sure of the latter. But it didn’t matter. “And now you just want to remove him as well, now that we’re working well together? What for? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Evelynn looked bored, though.
“I couldn't give any less of a shit about you, Kayn.”
Her sentence had been low, but awfully clear, enough to make Kayn widen his eyes.
“ What? ”
She placed her elbows on the desktop, leaning closer.
“If you fuck it up so bad that your contract has to be broken, or if you overdose and die, K’Sante will owe Yone and me a fuckload of money. Did Yone tell you that? That he was your designated vulture? Yone doesn't care about you, Shieda. Whatever it is he’s telling you, it’s a lie. Yone is the most devious bitch you have ever encountered, and now he’s got you wrapped around his finger.”
The blow had been so straight to his throat that all Kayn was able to do was laugh, even if acidly.
“Well, you finally show your face, huh? But if it were true, why would you be telling me your whole ass evil plan?”
“Because as for now, I’m shielded everywhere. Whether you get back on track and sell a fuckload or you fucking kill yourself, I’ll get my share. Even if you keep dragging yourself on the mud like you’ve been doing until you lose all market value, believe me, I found a way I can make money out of it. I can hand you over to the lions, but I guarantee you will be so controversial that you will never be left alone again." Evelynn spoke in an almost unbroken sequence, sounding like a series of blows. "I'm a businesswoman, I don't love risks – but I know how to take them like no one else. I'm going to make money one way or another, and it's not Yone who's going to get in my way. Yone has another plan, probably, and he is putting me to the side. He isn't following our procedures. I don't like to not know things.”
“You’re afraid of Yone, isn’t that it?” Kayn then wholefully laughed. “That’s sweet.”
“You look very amused for someone who just found out that they had been sold out by their boyfriend. You’re not buying it?”
It wasn’t that Kayn didn’t buy it. It really seemed very like Yone, so much it was even funny.
It was just that it didn’t matter anymore.
“I bought it, don't worry. Yone isn’t much less of a bitch than you are. But what if we have walked past it and now just want to work with each other?”
Evelynn scoffed.
“Oh, you poor thing. Yone must have quite a magical throat to make you fall to your knees for him like this.”
“What do you get if we break up, Evelynn? Why are you trying so hard to do it? It’s not business, it’s straight up villainous of you.”
“You’re right, it would be, just plain villanious of me in another situation. See, I wouldn't love to see the impact it would have if you came out and revealed your so precious relationship of a couple of months. But as far as I’m concerned, you can just wear the pride flag and we get some pink money out of it. But it’s not about you loving a man. It’s about you loving Yone . If making people fall in love weren't Yone’s very modus operandi. I’ve seen what he did to K’Sante. And he did it with other people before you. It’s all the same. I’m either protecting you from heartbreak or protecting myself from a coup.”
Kayn laughed acidly once more.
“You’re terrified of him. This is,” he laughed once more, “this is delicious to watch.”
But Evelynn sneered only.
“Well, Shieda, my love… Everything is already on the way to getting him fired from his position as your manager… but I can hold everything back for a couple of weeks to see how well you dance.”
Rolling his eyes, Kayn scoffed.
“What do I have to do, then?”
***
Yone’s morning had been as usual. A pill. Get in the office, and then get out. This time, call a driver, you’ll have to have a meeting on traffic. Meeting. Coffee. Emails. Phone calls. Contracts. Let’s talk about investments, negotiations and deadlines, or, more so, about who slept with whom after the Halloween party. Some more buzzwords for brunch. Clients. Strategy. Reports. Deadlines. Let’s lick someone’s boots while we converse around profits and the Left’s agenda. Another pill. Networking. Decisions. Coffee. Markets and stocks for some reason. Analysis. Portfolio. Budget. Deals. Opportunities. Try not to think of Evelynn. Efficiency. Leadership. Revenue. Vision. Targets. Vision. A big, wide smile and a handshake. Growth. Luxury. Success. Power. Influence. Planning. Innovation. Build your shields once more, try to find out who’s been conspiring against him alongside Evelynn. Expansion. Collaborations. Transactions. Management. Risk. Profitability. Control. Delegation. High-profile. Confidentiality. Branding. Efficiency. All of that before lunch, and as expected of buzzwords, they buzzed around inside his head when Yone came back to his office. As he got inside, his new assistant warned him that Kayn was waiting for him inside and that he asked not to warn him by text or a call before. It all fogged up when he heard the name, and something of anxiety followed even through his meds, because Kayn keeps him on the edge for better or for worse.
As he opened the door, Kayn was sitting on his chair, feet leaning on his desk, spinning his own phone on his fingers mindlessly. Their eyes locked and Kayn’s gaze seemed weirdly loose.
“Hey, Kayn. Everything alright?” Yone said as he entered and locked the door behind himself.
“You found yourself a pretty boy now to assist you. What happened to Irelia?”
“Did you talk to Evelynn? How did it go?”, he approached the desk.
“Are you going to answer or not?” Even though the words were harsh, Kayn’s voice was mellow, kind of singsong, as he was eyeing up as Yone stood right beside him.
“She’s been scamming me. I had to let her go.”
Kayn got up, pushing himself up. Standing up, he was now just inches away from Yone, who didn’t move away. He held Yone’s tie and started playing with it.
“You do keep a lot of things from me, don’t you, babe?”
Something about the way he enounciated the pet name sounded aggressive.
Yone sighed.
“Evelynn got to your head, didn’t she? I’ve warned you not to go there, she’s devious.”
“She said the same about you.” Kayn said as his fingers traveled up to the knot of the tie, hooking teasingly onto it. “But no, don’t worry. I don’t believe that bitch. Do you believe that she said that you decided to be my manager to get me killed for K’Sante’s insurance or whatever?”
Kayn drew his head back to watch Yone’s reactions.
“Your breath is smelling like whisky.”
“I drank a little bit. But don’t worry, I didn’t come here driving. My driver is waiting in the car.” He was looking at his own fingers loosening Yone’s tie. “You know, the more you avoid answering me, the more it seems like Evelynn was telling the truth.”
Another sigh, and Kayn had been staring right at Yone’s throat as he swallowed hard.
“She wasn’t lying. That was really our initial plan. I told her that you’d either get in line or I’d help you destroy yourself for profit.”
Kayn laughed; cackled .
“That is so like you, babe.”
“Everything obviously changed, Kayn, you know that I-”
“Shh, shh, shh. Don’t bother.”
He grabbed Yone’s wrist and brought that hand to his neck. He placed the palm against his throat and with the other hand pressed the slender fingers against his skin. The image would be of Yone choking Kayn if someone could see it.
“I would love it if you did it.”
“Don’t talk like that, Kayn. We’ve gone through this.” Yone tried to pull his hand away, but Kayn held it tighter and stronger.
“Don’t worry, love I’m not giving up, I’ll still give them hell, all they have to do is wait. I’m not letting them win. And you’ve already proved that you at least changed your mind. You could have let me die and you didn’t.” He pressed tighter the hand against his throat, until he gets his face pinkish. “I’m just saying, if someone had to do it, I would love it if it were you.”
“ Nobody is doing it.”
“I know. Rhaast won’t let it.” He winked with his injured eye and released Yone’s hand. Then he turned to Yone’s desk, pushed the things aside and sat on its top. “But I’d love you to fuck me in this pretty desk of yours instead, then.”
“I think we should talk instead. I can take you to lunch.”
“Sure, later. Now, I think we should fuck.”
“You’ve drunk a bit, this isn’t for the best.”
“Yone, have you ever won an argument against me?”
Kayn spread his legs and Yone fit in between them as he scoffed.
“Maybe. My memory is foggy right now.”
There wasn’t an answer for Kayn but wrapping his hands around Yone’s shoulders and kissing him with all he’s got.
Kayn would get what he wanted, even if just for that request.
As they tried to maintain silence, they heard their hearts compressing and expanding, pounding loudly and rapidly in their chests. That coronary sound was interspersed with the rhythmic panting that came from his lungs, which lost its rhythm each time the Yone pushed into Kayn, slowly filling him inch by inch.
There were folders on the floor, and the two pencil holders were overturned, all the contents knocked out. Silence sounded a little bit ironic at that point, but it wasn’t the only thing that did.
It was ironic when Kayn’s legs are wrapped around his manager's waist. His manager, the one he’ll do everything to keep, rearranging his guts on top of the desk that he has probably signed at least one of those contracts they talked about.
The sneakers still on his feet, Yone’s pants down to his ankles and the pianist fingers grabbing Kayn's legs. The movements were fast and intense, between the heat that emanated between their skin and the pieces of clothing they were still wearing. Yone moved his hands to Kayn's torso, inside his T-shirt, sliding through the sweat on his skin. Each accelerated and deep thrust writhed an almost inaudible moan in the singer's throat; sometimes the table moves a few centimeters, and silence was terribly ironic at that point.
It didn't take much longer; each time Yone hit him deeply and repeatedly, shattering Kayn's ability to reason and tearing him out of orbit – he did everything so well, so well. There were many sensations for the singer's mind to process, and perhaps she had decided to collapse into that ecstasy of an orgasm. Yone's final thrusts in response had been even deeper, deep as if inside Kayn’s soul, and his climax as he came inside the singer's body made their clothes feel like they were on fire, the touch between their skin icy and boiling at the same time, and the world faded into existence.
Their eyes had a light like blood shines on a field after a battle, before it starts to clot and then stink. They stared at each other, just puffed breaths and sighs, feeling the heat dissipate from their sweaty bodies and oxygen return to supply their blood.
Putting their clothes back on was another ironic silence.
“Can we talk now?” Yone said as he was tying back his tie.
“I can’t.” Fully dressed, Kayn was picking his things up as if he was indeed ready to leave. “I have to sleep this whisky off because I have a date today.”
“You what ?”
“You know your friend Ahri? Did you know that Evelynn has her number as well?”
Yone frowned, and Kayn knew that it was sick that a part of him loved to see fire in those viciously calculating eyes.
“Why did you accept anything without getting back to me? We talked about this, Kayn!”
“Because I knew you wouldn’t like it, and I don’t want it to get in your way. You do whatever you need to do now, because that cunt will be thinking that I’m on her hands now.”
“I told you not to play Evelynn’s game, Kayn, she’s going to do whatever it takes to get to us.” He approached Kayn to stop him on his tracks.
“You do what you need to do, I’ll buy you time. It means nothing to me, you know how it goes.”
Yone sighed, dropping his shoulders.
“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”
“Believe me, I’m not. I just know that I have to play the part.”
Kayn gave his back and left. Yone stood there. He wouldn’t stop it.
He wouldn’t stop Kayn .
Because now, he felt that rage back. Not anger, anger is childish; but rage. That rage that made him study hard so that he can rebel, fuck hard so that he will reach the stars, shut everything out so that he will win. That rage that made him into who he is.
You’re right, Kayn. We’ll show them what we’re made of.
Notes:
Hey, guys! I'm on a complicated time now and this is why the chapters are taking a bit longer. But I love writing and I'm always happy when I'm able to finish a chapter. Hope you liked the read. It would be really lovely if you let me know what you're thinking of the story so far. ❤️ See you (soon, I hope)!
Chapter Text
Walking within the glassed walls with that wonderful hill view, pacing alongside ridiculously expensive furniture and art decoration, everything was the same from months ago when he first walked in Kayn’s mansion. And Yone hated too much antithesis as a figure of speech to admit that, at the same time, nothing was the same at all.
But it was true. Even though the housekeeper still spoke quietly, there was still the giant cylindrical aquarium piercing the center of the house and he was the heartless cunning cunt he wore to be, there was nothing about him that hasn’t been touched, changed, skewered, twisted and blossomed.
The midnight belonged both to a Thursday and a Friday, but it hardly mattered anyway. Kayn was in a rooftop lounge across town and he had been in a mansion party not really that far away from there.
There, a live DJ Yone knew, flown in from Ibiza, played beneath an enormous LED screen that morphed and shifted with kaleidoscopic colors as the music pulsed with a deep, hypnotic beat. In another wing of the mansion, there was an indoor swimming pool, its water glowing neon blue, and Yone hoped he could be away from there before people started jumping in fully clothed and do their freaky business right there after an insane cocktail of whatever drug they could put their hands on. A private room off to the side was filled with guests gathered around poker tables where the chips were pieces of a child’s game with stakes of thousands of dollars. A few had retreated to private rooms, where anything would happen from pervertions beyond imaginable to deals that could change someone’s fortune, over alcohol and huge amounts of cocaine.
Another fucking party, a place you wouldn’t imagine to find Evelynn.
But there she was, sitting on a neon red sofa, Akali by her side. Her outfit as sexy as it gets, in leather on her short skirt and silver around her neck. The lure from a Venus Flytrap could sound like a vendetta; a woman who could offer a threat in a place where men are meant to be the predators. But it’s way more out of sheer betrayal, as Evelynn could surely watch any girl there drop unconscious on the hands of strangers and bat an eye bored. The scene was obviously dissonant from the rest of the night, as both of them didn’t have their hands all over each other and the sofa didn’t have twice the amount of people expected to sit on it.
When both of them saw Yone, he couldn’t under those lights notice their exact reaction, but their eyes didn’t move away from him.
They clearly didn’t want him there, as all of their body language showed, so he knew exactly what to do.
“Hey, girls.” As he approached, he made a point of sitting beside Akali. “Nice finding you two here. Did you check your drink?” He asked Akali.
“I never drink in these parties.”, she answered, although there was a drink beside her. “I like to know which drugs I’m taking.”
Akali shifted uncomfortably on her seat, but it was Evelynn who leaned over to stare at him.
“Hey, baby boy. Felt like getting loose today? You surely must be really busy these days, ignoring me does take a lot of effort.”
“Yeah, it does.” Yone stretched his arm behind Akali. “And I’m thinking about getting some tonight, since Kayn is busy .”
“Ahri?” Akali asked, frowning.
He leaned back with a huff.
“Yep. They’ve been together the last three fucking days.” Yone looked over to glare at Evelynn.
It was all she wanted to hear, apparently.
“Oh, I just asked him for one date. If he’s seeing her again, maybe he just liked her.”
“You always get what you want, Evelynn. But I’m not stepping over, and even if we can't be together he’s still my managee .”
“I’m guessing it strained your relationship.”
“You would love it, wouldn’t you?”
She chuckled.
“Don’t worry, he’s showing he can be really obedient once again. I just think you should work less, that is all. Kayn is too much work, you shouldn’t spend all your energy on him.”
Deliberately, Yone’s jaw tightened at her words, but he kept his composure as if he wasn’t about to give Evelynn the satisfaction of seeing him flinch. Because she thrived on getting under people’s skin, always playing with her prey before delivering the final blow, and he knew it very well.
Akali, meanwhile, seemed caught in the middle of something she didn’t want any part of. Her eyes flicked between the two, a silent observer of the psychological dance unfolding before her.
“You know, Evelynn, your concern for my workload is touching,” Yone said with a sardonic smile, “but Kayn isn’t just work. He’s a project. And you know how I love my projects.”
Evelynn leaned back, a wicked smile spreading across her face.
“Oh, I do. But don’t forget, Yone, projects can get messy. And sometimes they’re more trouble than they’re worth. It’s something we had already talked about and I'd thought we were on the same page.”
“Yeah, well… I thought the contents of the page was ‘making money’. But you’re apparently on a hurry.”
“Not really. I just don’t trust you.”
“I get this a lot.”
“Cry me a river. You've made your bed, now lie in it.” Evelynn rolled her eyes and sighed.
“But then again, we both know I thrive in chaos.”
Evelynn stood, her leather outfit catching the pulsing lights as she stretched.
“Well, Yone, I’m not here to talk business, at least not with you, so I’m on my way to somewhere more interesting. But don’t worry, since you’re so committed to your little ‘project,’ I won’t keep you. Like I said, as long as you both walk the line, I'm good. But just remember, darling: sometimes, the ones you think you’re controlling are the ones pulling the strings.”
With that, she turned on her heel, her movements languid, calculated, as if the party itself was bending to her will.
Akali shot Yone a glance, somewhere between exasperation and pity.
“You sure you want to keep playing this game? You’d better just stop measuring dicks with her.” she asked.
Yone sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I don’t have a choice, Akali. Kayn’s in too deep, and I’m the only one who can get him out without losing him to everything.”
Akali’s lips twisted into a frown. “Maybe. But remember, that’s Evelynn’s game we're playing.”
Yone didn’t need reminding. The room suddenly felt too claustrophobic, the air thick with too many lies and too much desire.
“I need to find someone to blow off some steam,” he said, standing up.
“Good luck with that.” She sighed, sinking into the sofa. “I'll be leaving as soon as I can.”
As he made his way through the crowd, the pulse of the music was following him like a living, breathing thing. But instead of finding a dark room or someone to go to a bedroom with, Yone just looked for the guy he’d paid off to find him a way of leaving the house unnoticed.
Even if it didn’t seem much, he did in fact all he needed to do in that place.
Now he was inside Kayn’s mansion, but the owner wasn’t there yet. Not that Yone didn’t know where he was, and, in fact, many people knew already where he was. The pictures from the date were in many fan accounts already, because a romantic encounter out in the open with Shieda Kayn is bound to be registered somewhere. The fans have already found the socials of the gorgeous model Ahri, they scrutinized the way Kayn held her hand on top of the table and how she played with her hair, they even have the brand and outrageous price of the beautiful high heels she wore.
It’s almost three in the morning when the door of the bedroom opens again. The room wasn’t dark, since the decorative warm lights against the wall were on, but Yone’s silhouette laying on his bed as he entered the main room startled Kayn.
“Fuck, what are you doing here?” Kayn put his hand on his chest, and as Yone sat down, stood up and their eyes met, he could see the look lingering to behind him, as if checking if someone was going to show up behind him through the door. “Fucking creep.”
Walking closer, Yone finally answered.
“I see you came home alone.”
“You were hoping to cockblock me?”
“Yes, actually.” He said, a little bit closer.
“I would kind of think this is sexy, but I’m tired for this today.” Kayn took out his jacket and threw it in the nearest armchair.
Yone stopped in front of him and Kayn didn’t divert, but also didn’t move closer. It was true, there was a lot of tiredness in his eyes, and it didn’t change as Yone’s hands leaned on his shoulders
“You smell like a sweet and flowery Dior edition.” Yone said under his breath, gravely, as his hands slid down Kayn’s torso.
The singer sighed uncomfortably, not reciprocating the touch.
“I’m not in the mood, Yone.” He walked out of his touch, taking his hands gently out of him and stepping towards the bed.
The rejection, exactly in that moment, in that fucking night, brought rage to an also very tired Yone.
“Did she satisfy you already?” he muttered, but the rage ricocheted back and could be seen in Kayn’s eyes a hundred times fierier.
“You don’t get to say that to me. We agreed on it, it was part of the plan and you can't make me guilty for it. It's not like I'm dying to do it but you agreed that I might have to do it.” Kayn took off his shirt and also tossed it away. “Go home already, you can take my chastity belt key with you if you want.”
Clenching his fists, Yone sighed and rubbed his eyes. That sensation felt humiliating, although probably not for what it should be.
All that plan, all that submission. It used to be so easy for him, and now… now he’s a slave to his emotions because his feelings don’t behave anymore. They were set apart from his reason and sailed away for God knows where. Now he’s a poor damned sailor wishing for the storm to end and hoping he can find his way back.
“I know what it takes, fuck! I don't care if you do it. I just… fucking miss you, okay?!”, the words leaked into the ship’s hull.
“It’s been just some days.”, Kayn was finishing taking his clothes off to go to bed, and his words were angry yet.
“Still.”
Kayn looked at Yone’s face, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Was it jealousy only? It’s not from now that Yone looks tired.
Well, didn’t he want to have Yone wrapped around his finger? As all of his plans are so great, he’d sworn before that he would love to hurt Yone. But he’s bad at keeping promises.
Much to his misfortune, he’s also promised he would be strong enough to regain his place, to finally show what he’s got in his next album, but, most of all, he’s doing this to keep Yone close. And if they fight, they’ll give Evelynn and everyone else exactly what they wanted. And, mostly, they’re losing exactly what they were trying to fight for.
If there’s something left worth fight for, it should be it.
Kayn threw his body on the bed, only on his underwear.
“I just don’t want to touch anyone anymore today, it was way too much.” The sentence struggled its way out of his throat because it felt too intimate. “But you can stay. If you want.”
Kayn tapped on the bed beside him.
It took Yone a moment.
Kayn didn’t want it, and he didn’t need to know much about his past to understand by everything he’s seen that he didn’t have the best of experiences with his clothes off some, or many times. But still he took his clothes off and trusted that he wouldn’t do anything about it.
Because he was on regular clothes, he took his clothes off, too. But he laid down on the other side of the bed and remained there.
“I’m sorry.”, he managed to say.
He heard Kayn sigh.
“It’s okay. I'm sorry, too."
The singer turned the lights of the room off touching the button on the headboard, and their eyes were getting used to the darkness, searching for the lights that would creep in. The ones through the curtains, or from electronic devices here and there. Only their breaths were heard when their thoughts were too loud, and it was again Kayn who broke the silence.
Mostly because his thoughts were indeed deafening.
“How was it with Evelynn today?”
“It’s probably working. Evelynn thinks we kind of broke up and that I’m desperate, and I’ll talk to K’Sante, too. I’ll keep on acting in this pathetic way, so they won’t see me as a threat anymore. Then I’ll be able to work with everything I know when their guards are low.”
“In a certain way, we are kind of desperate.”
“Come on, you don’t tell your hand when you’re double bluffing.”
Kayn laughed weakly, and Yone felt a weigh leaving his shoulders.
Both stared at the ceiling for a while longer. Even when they are everything they are, a white ceiling is just a white ceiling, even when covered by shadows.
Eventually, Kayn crawled a little bit closer. Not enough to hug him, but enough to hold Yone’s hand.
And the weigh sort of came back, but, this time, it was one that Yone would carry up a mountain if he needed.
“Let’s spend New Year’s Eve in a boat in the Mediterranian, what do you say?”
The New Year’s Eve was still a couple of months forward, so they would have to be together for the invitation to be completed. So Yone smiled, even if faintly, and caressed Kayn’s hand.
“Have you ever been to Greece?”
“Not yet.”
“I’d love to show you around.” Then he corrected himself. “I will love to show you around.”
***
When the lights of the day are shining, though, Yone is back to his plans. The same ones that he knows he’ll have to pay with his soul, and that soul is already on mortgage to say the least.
He had someone else to talk to, and that was why he was inside the same office he’s been so many times before. Sitting on a chair, looking pliant and stupid, with K’Sante behind the huge desk.
“Again, I just want to talk to Zed.” Yone had lowered his voice. “We all know how fickle Kayn is, if Zed gets to talk to him without preparation, everything can go to waste. We have some months only to prepare for the album and the next year’s music awards.”
“Are you asking for my help?” K'Sante flashed him a smile. “That’s sweet.”
“I…” Yone sighed, and his expression turned to pure disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re going to make this personal, K'Sante.”
K’Sante crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.
“And why wouldn’t I?”
“Because this is far more important than my pride or yours!” Yone then cleared his throat and continued, his tone slightly more polite. “This could ruin everything for many people, K'Sante, including you.”
“I can tell you all about Zed. But do you remember what I said you’d have to do to ask for my help again?”
Oh, Yone remembered it. He was betting that K’Sante would as well.
And, you know what? If one day you want my help and support again, you can kneel down and unzip my pants. Don't come and talk about dreams when I trusted you and you chose to stab me in the back. You chose your cards, and now you're going to keep them to the very end.
Yone sighed and lowered his head. He abruptly got up from the chair he was sitting on.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“What’s the big deal? Wasn’t it by giving blowjobs that you got here?”
“How can you be so impossibly stupid? Don’t be so stubborn, for God’s sake.”
“You know, you begging reminds me of quite a few things.”
“You’re such a son of a bitch.”
He crossed his hands behind his head and raised his eyebrows.
“On your knees, Yone.”
With eyes burning with rage and teeth clenched tightly, Yone walked around the desk and stood right in front of K’Sante. Then he knelt. He put one knee on the floor, then the other, and his hands gripped K'Sante’s belt. He unbuckled it — slowly, but without hesitation. He unzipped his pants, and as his hands moved toward the waistband of K'Sante’s black briefs, K'Sante let out a muted laugh, without amusement, contempt, or even mockery. He grabbed Yone’s hair, lifting his head, and he wouldn't keep going anymore.
“Go around the desk and sit in your chair.” K'Sante shook his head and zipped up his pants before he allowed anything else to happen.
Unable to argue, Yone simply obeyed. He leaned on the arms of the chair and stood up, rising to his feet once more.
“You know what the problem is?” K'Sante continued. “There was a Yone that used to turn me on, but he doesn’t exist anymore. He was an intense man, with impeccable posture, confident, decisive. Now you’re desperate, and your submission isn’t even sexy anymore; it’s just pathetic.”
You’re so fucking predictable it’s actually pitiful, K’Sante. Yone thought, trying his best not to sneer.
He reached for the second drawer of his desk, pulled out a folder, and tossed it on the table.
“Zed isn’t here to get your job. He’s not even caring if you know anymore, because at the point things are going, whatever sick motive you can have, you’re clearly being screwed over along with us all, since Evelynn clearly wants your neck. And she’s coming with all of the artillery.”
“What is this?” Yone asked, as he was opening the folder.
“Do you know The Prophetess, that gossip channel with a particular taste for exposing Kayn?”
“What about them?”, Yone had his eyes on the material on his hands.
“Evelynn is sponsoring them.”
“ What ?” Yone couldn’t help the shock.
“That’s not even the most fucked up part.” K’Sante was very objective. “The one behind everything on the journalist work is Alune Lunari. Who happens to be the sister of Aphelios Lunari. Does the name ring a bell?”
“Aphelios? From Kayn’s former band?” Yone just couldn’t hold back the stunment at that point.
“According to Zed, yes. And you also seem to know something about whatever happened to them, all of which is kind of new to me. But as far as we know, they’re up to something, and we’re pretty sure they’re coming for Kayn’s head.”
Chapter Text
It was around eleven p.m. when the black car approached the towering iron gates, a subtle hum from the engine filled the air, effortlessly signaling its presence to the vigilant security guard stationed in the booth. Its polished surface reflected the soft glow of the streetlights and the guards, previously warned, barely needed to glance at the vehicle’s distinct insignia or its tinted windows before the gates began to part slowly, welcoming the car into the private world beyond. The car rolled smoothly down the roads of the neighborhood, passing lush gardens and grand estates, and Kayn was grabbing the steering wheels so hard his knuckles went white. Beside him, Ahri was also silent, and he could thank the radio not to consider it a really anxious silence. As they approached her home, a sprawling modern mansion with glass walls and immaculate landscaping, the singer slowed the car, its engine purring. He brought it to a stop in front of the house, and released a deep breath, forcing himself to smile.
“It was a great night, Ahri. I had a lot of fun.”
"Yeah, me too. I want to thank you. This week has been amazing, and this night was great… if it weren’t for the fiasco at the Tiki Bar," she added.
Kayn snorted as if he were about to burst into laughter, but he was able to hold back.
"Oh, come on, it was hilarious."
"Because it didn’t happen to you."
"I didn't mean to belittle. I just say that because you said you didn't get hurt. Sorry." The singer just thought, 'That’s for wearing heels to a tiki bar.'
Ahri quickly softened her expression, as if realizing something.
"Oh, well, I guess you’re right, it’s not that big of a deal," She resigned herself, and Kayn noticed she was only doing it to please him, what made it all even worse. “It was kind of funny if I get to think about it.”
Silence once more, and Kayn took a deep breath.
“So, I’ll call you?”
“Don’t you… want to get in? We could have another drink or two. A joint if you want.”
Of course Kayn knew what she meant. And his palms were cold about it.
“I would love to, but tomorrow we start early in the studio.”
“On a Sunday?”
“Yep. I can’t leave it be for too many days, because I lose momentum. It’s been some difficult days at the studio, but I hope everything will turn out fine.
Ahri looked down, then glanced through the window, making a motion that she would grab the door handle. But she stopped halfway, and Kayn didn’t get to sigh in relief.
“Kayn, can I ask you something?”
Kayn begged every god he didn’t believe in that she wouldn’t, still he nodded.
“Sure.”
“Did anyone tell you to go out with me?”
He frowned, mostly to buy himself time.
“What do you mean?”
She twirled her hair around her finger, looking away.
“You know, I’m very good at being the pretty little thing beside someone important, it’s not offensive. I just… I just want to know if you’re really interested in me or if we should make, you know, a different arrangement.”
Please, let it stop.
“I’m not following. Of course I’m interested in you. I am, I just have some stuff on my mind lately.”
There was a commiserative smile on her lips.
“Is she married?”
“No, what? There isn’t any other woman.”
“So is she… a he?”
Trying his best not to snap, Kayn rubbed his eyes.
“I'm not gay, Ahri. I like women.” Which really wasn’t a lie. “I just-...”
At the strangled silence he allowed, she gently caressed his arm, reassuringly.
“I may understand where you’re at. Even though it isn’t supposed to matter this much anymore, mostly in my area, still all my male partners were partners, and all my lady partners were really close friends. The pressure must be so much higher for you.”
Instead of reassuring, however, the sentence made Kayn’s chest freeze.
How could she know all that? Was it that well-known already among his fans that he swung both - or any - ways? Could she have such good instincts to feel it this precisely, enough to suggest something that might be very offensive if she had done so to some straight cis date partner?
Ahri, the date that Evelynn recommended, would be truly this oblivious, and not a deliberate pawn she has in the game to mess with them?
He swallowed hard, knowing he had to step in.
“It’s not like that. Well, kinda. I’ll… I’ll explain to you.”
Sometimes Kayn wondered if he had even a soul left to sell to begin with, and, yet, he finds himself over and over again selling it for the highest bid, and it’s hard not to wonder if he should even be making the effort. He’s in a pit of snakes and he better bite one before he gets bitten.
"First of all, I wanted to say you are great." Kayn rest his hand on her thigh, trying his best to convey what he wanted without having to only lie. “You make it all very easy.”
Ahri smiled softly and stroked her own hair with her fingers. Each of her movements seemed graceful, as if Kayn's eyes were a camera she needed to pose for. And yet, it seemed only natural, her own way, something she had absorbed into herself.
"I've told you before, but for a bad boy, you're a sweetheart."
Kayn gave a crooked smile.
She was a perfectly agreeable company. She could hold any conversation, however boring they seemed. She didn’t ask, didn’t nag, didn’t demand. She spoke softly, but firmly, and she looked stunning. She acted dainty, educated, compliant.
Everything Kayn couldn’t bear for himself.
"I think someone told you something before you went out with me, didn’t they?", he tried to fish something.
"Not really. You just looked like an angry guy. But the first time I talked to you, I could already tell you were different from how you seemed to be." Ahri smiled gently. "I don't know. You surprise me. I used to get nervous just seeing you. I was... a little afraid."
"Not anymore?"
"Maybe a little." She smiled at him, as if it were her turn in some little game.
“I would, if I were you.” He winked to make it sound a little less threatening than the truth he knew to be hidden behind the words.
"You're only a bad boy on the outside, Kayn." Ahri stretched her hand to caress his blue hair. "Those eyes of yours... only those who’ve seen them in person understand. I can see a huge heart, from a very kind man."
Yes, you're seeing perfectly. Kayn sighed inwardly with irony, but outwardly he only smiled and held her hand.
“You know, Ahri… If I’m being sincere with you,” which he wasn’t, “you kind of got it. I had… something, with a guy, that wasn't supposed to be happening. The breakup is very recent for me, and we’re still in the middle of something big beyond our former relationship, so my mind really is somewhere else.”
There wasn’t any breakup at all, but that was the thing they both agreed on saying. And he could only hope that, if Ahri is ratting everything out to Evelynn, that she’ll also tell her this.
“I’m sorry to hear that. It’s always something hard to deal.”
“Yeah.”, he sighed and looked away.
“So… did they make you go out with me to cover it up?”
“No, nobody forced me to do anything. I’m just trying to get my mind off of it. I’m very sorry for using you for this.”
“You know, I've had some hard times before as well. And this external demand can make us sick to even look at someone else. So, please, take your time.”
By then, Kayn was pretty sure that Ahri was onto him. At the very least, she had that connection with Evelynn and was keeping her informed.
But… what if she wasn't? What if she’s just someone hoping for a date to go well, unaware she was getting close to a broken fucked up man who is just madly in love with someone else?
How many people will he still use to his own benefit?
“What if… I can't move on?”, he tried.
“If you need a trophy girlfriend, I have a weak spot for Tiffany and Loubotins. They keep me satisfied if you can’t.” She shrugged, and then giggled truly adorably. The choice had probably been quite stereotypical, but Kayn understood the message she conveyed.
“Would that truly be enough for you?”
Then she sighed, and the ever so sweet smile she had took a different resemblance. Heavier, more serious, even if still serene.
“I’m no romantic, not at all. Never have been. What I am now is a model past twenty-two, so the clock is ticking for me. We know how things work. I’d rather have a nice guy and a company I enjoy, who could give me some nice things as well, than trying out for love in this mad circus. If it’s okay for you, it’s okay for me. Don't force yourself. Let’s just be frank with each other.”
Kayn wanted to believe her, because what she said had removed tons from his shoulders, even though not only she could be lying, but he also knew he was far from being the nice guy she thought he was. Still, he took a deep breath because now it felt like he could, and he leaned it to press a soft kiss to her lips.
“Thank you, Ahri. It means a lot.”
Her smile was adorable back again.
“It was a great night, Kayn.” She held the doorknob of the car and pulled it. “I’d love to keep seeing you. Good night.”
“Good night.”
She left the car, movements trained on walking like he’s been trained on stage. Not a single wasted gesture, carefully entrancing and beguiling. Kayn took a deep breath and drove away, surely not back to his own house.
Knuckles white while grabbing the steering wheel once again, all Kayn’s attention was focused on the road.
It used to be so easy, just acting like a jerk to take advantage of an even bigger jerk who wanted to take advantage of him. But now he drove for hours, stopped somewhere he shouldn’t have, and his mind seemed to harbor a cloud of locusts, the intense and consuming hum of his thoughts. He couldn’t come up with anything. He couldn’t make any decisions. He could only be himself — visceral, destructive; he could only think of the most cowardly solutions.
It used to be so easy, but then again, it probably really wasn't.
Two a.m. With a cigarette between his fingers and something in his pocket, Kayn found himself sitting on a bench in a desert park somewhere out of town. Around him were beautiful trees and a white fountain with crystal-clear water, surrounded by a garden of carefully tended pansies. But, for some reason, there was no light — only a solitary lamppost with a yellowish glow, shining with the urgency of wanting to light up everything on its own — unsuccessfully.
That figure of him sat in the shadows of the trees and pressed the cigarette against the cold cement to put it out. He exhaled one last time, then pulled his knees up, planting the soles of his sneakers on the edge of the bench and hugging his legs, gripping one wrist.
He shoved his hand into his pocket and gripped a compacted plastic bag. He took a look at it, that he had just bought. Not with Jinx, Yone had her contact. But it wasn't his only one.
Kayn lowered his head and felt a pang in his chest. He stood up, and when he headed back to his car, he was almost running. He sat down with his heart in his throat, hid the package inside his sneakers, slammed the door, and stomped on the accelerator.
He wasn’t being followed; he made sure of that. He knew how to evade, and he knew how to escape. Just as he knew exactly where he wanted to go.
It was almost four in the morning when he was yet somewhere else. That night felt and looked like a fever dream, and for some lucid moments he was pretty sure that at some point he started feeling derealization.
Yone had been awfully distant that whole week.
Probably it was his fault.
He must had hurt him with Ahri.
Yone had better leave him anyway, that was the unsaid truth. And the one he would never allow truly.
what am I doing here what am I doing here what am I doing here
They barely touched each other, but that’s another week of work, right? They are supposed to be producing, yet… fuck, it’s all so hard, and where the fuck is Yone to begin with?
How dare Yone not be his cornerstone for all he needs, and how dare he, Kayn, even consider such a thing?
House keys still in hand, it was easy to come in, and he wondered how real it was when he felt like it was a break in, even though Yone trusted him with the key and the alarm.
That seaside mansion wasn't nearly as big as his estate, but still it truly felt like the walls were miles away from him. He knew the way to the living room, because he had watched Yone play the piano in there and they had sex on the couch as well, but it felt as far away as the stairs to the second floor.
He dragged himself upstairs and toddled across the dark, feeling less like himself and more like a shadow of a nightmare in a liminal space.
I should leave. I should leave.
“Yone?”
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows there was the night and the hint of the balcony. The walls are a mix of whites, grays, and matte black, all of which seemed the same now. The bed is the centerpiece, an ethereal king-sized floating platform design with an upholstered headboard in plush velvet, and it seems absolutely eerie now. There is a volume of someone amid textured bedspread and a collection of silk and cashmere pillows.
I should leave. I have to leave.
“Yone?”
But him being absolutely unresponsive brought an anxiety to Kayn which would attract him to the bed whether he wanted it or not.
He saw Yone within the penumbra, deeply asleep, laying on his side in a nest of pillows. His mouth was parted and he drooled a little bit.
“Yone? Are you alright?”, he held his face, and he felt his hot breathing against his fingers, which allowed Kayn to breathe properly as well.
By the corner of his eye, Kayn saw the glass water bottle and the medicine on the nightstand beside his phone. Probably he had knocked himself to sleep with those, and even if he wakes up now, he’ll be groggy and absolutely confused.
He had a pulse, a steady one. He was breathing well. So, let him sleep like he needed to. A low, soft snoring sound followed and Kayn sighed.
Kayn sat on the bed beside him, feeling like an absolute creep.
White hair in dark sheets, Yone truly seems like a reverie, a mirage. Beautiful like a delirium, as he is. So Kayn kissed him goodnight on his forehead and it was all he would do.
***
The alarm rang for several minutes before and Yone fully groveled out of his unconsciousness. So he sat down and stared at the opposite wall for some minutes more.
Everything about who he was or what he’s supposed to do that day was juggling inside his head while he still tried to recall his dreams.
He had dreamt of Kayn, and although he sometimes has weird or lucid dreams when he’s on meds, that day felt particularly strange. His voice felt too real, and suddenly he missed him, which wasn't a new feeling at all. More like something he’s experiencing every time they are not together.
He bent his legs and leaned his elbows on his knees and his head on his hands. That week was sucking him dry and he was farther and farther from finding a solution.
He met Alune this week.
The clatter of cutlery throughout the restaurant seemed too distant even when he was there, let alone now remembering it through his still foggy, dazed mind. He was breathing so heavily that the air felt like liquid.
He had just woken up and he was tired, tired enough to feel a churn in his stomach. He wouldn't be able to have breakfast. He needed to eat, but he couldn't. He raised his head and adjusted his posture, taking a long sigh. If he continued to think about the likely outcome of what he had talked with her, he might faint or vomit from anxiety.
He knew this would be the worst of disasters.
The last few days had been a desperate race to the end of his strength, but always in circles. He ended up there with no progress, exhausted and lost.
When K’Sante told him about Evelynn's sponsorship of The Prophetess, something felt absolutely off immediately. Either that was a blatant lie to put him against Evelynn even more, or there was something even bigger behind all of this. But the proof seemed legitimate, so he was left with the last option.
It could make some business sense if you see it at first. It’s very like Evellyn to make a way of profiting from every side, through the record when Kayn is thriving and through the gossip when he is struggling. But why would it be specifically them? Why specifically the channel from the sister of one of the men who Kayn had terribly wronged in the past, if not specifically to feed on some kind of vengeance?
He didn't get to meet Zed again, but he knew that Kayn’s former manager was behind finding it all out. Yone remembered specifically that Kayn had sent them money through Zed out of guilt, and the time checks with when the channel began to do better. It was probably on them in the beginning, and the hiring of two professional journalists matches with Evelynn's supposed start on supporting them.
He also remembered that Zed had said that they signed Non Disclosure Agreements, but could it be enough?
He needed to talk to them. And, in fact, it seemed that K’Sante only told him everything because Alune Lunari had specifically said she wanted to talk to Yone himself.
Fast forward to the meeting in a restaurant downtown. The woman he had in front of him looked absolutely sweet, pink hair and colorful casual clothes, if not for the dark rings under her eyes and the threat she posed without having to say a word.
Right in front of him, the familiar voice of the Prophetess channel: soft, dreamy even. A stinging pain dissipated inside his skull as they exchanged very coordinated cordialities.
“So, Mr. Yone, all formalities aside, I wanted to say it’s a pleasure. You’re a very busy and important man to be lending me your time, so I can see that our work started reaching the right attention. Mostly with how you are showing up in my channel lately.”
Yone cleared his throat, trying to appear calm, though his insides were tense, knotted with worry.
“It indeed is. But I’m beginning to wonder whether you’re running a former fan account that went wrong. That’s a lot of focus on one person.”
“Is it bothering you?”
“Not really. It just made me curious as to why Kayn specifically. There’s clearly an obsession here and I may be able to help solve this problem so we can all be on better terms.”
“Now you’re just playing dumb, aren't you?”
He was, but still it was bizarre seeing her so blunt.
“I may just be oblivious.”
“Let’s say I believe you, then. I have a personal stake, Yone. My brother… you’ve heard of him, haven’t you?”
Yone blinked slowly.
“I have. Aphelios.”
“So I guess you should know why Kayn.”
“You don’t get closure by dragging others through the mud. If you had any genuine concern, you would have contacted us again, we could arrange something else. A confrontation like this doesn’t help anyone.”
“I disagree.” Alune’s voice was airy, casual. “I believe a public confrontation might be exactly what Kayn needs. He’s very… aloof, right? He rarely even hears what’s said about him, doesn’t he?”
Yone clenched his jaw, preparing his bluff.
“Yeah, he doesn't. And that’s exactly the point. You know, I’m here trying to reach a peaceful agreement so we won't waste our energy anymore, but you don't have the upper hand here. You are just another one saying a lot of shit about him, which he couldn't care less about.”
“That’s very like a backstabber like he is.”, her answer was sharp and violent like a stab itself. “But it’s probably going to be a little bit worse for his image with what we have on him. If you know my brother’s name, you might know Sett’s and Ezreal’s, too.”
He bore her gaze, not flinching.
“And you are willing to risk the size of the lawsuit coming your way just for your vendetta? Your sponsor won't back it up, you’re on your own. You must know that both Sett and Aphelios accepted all the money given to them and then signed an NDA afterwards.”
“They did. But I didn't. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about how the other manager bribed them to keep their silence. I can just tell what I witnessed first hand, and that will be enough.”
“What is it you want, Alune? To ruin him?”
She let out a soft sigh, shaking her head.
“Did you know that my brother lost his voice? Even after Kayn betrayed him, even when Ezreal left, he was still making music until his fingers and his throat bled. They spent the nights outside and in the morning he patched up the bruises on his boyfriend's face because Sett was underground fighting to bring them some money. His college money was used to keep them alive. I could go, I was on my way to becoming a journalist, but how could I move on, how could I do it when my twin is coping with substance abuse and is ruining himself more and more every day? How could I leave it be after what happened to Ez?”
Now, her voice wasn't of the same indifferent softness. Emotion bled into it, twisting the sensation of every word. She was being sincere, and even with the next sentences she would still wield.
“I don’t want to ruin Kayn, Yone. I want him to understand. And he will, when he’s forced to see the impact of his choices in the same way the rest of us do.”
“So, what do you expect me to do?” Yone’s frustration was betraying him. “You’re leaving me with nothing to give him but a warning.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” She leaned back, crossing her arms. “I don’t want a warning. We want a meeting. With him. In person.”
Yone couldn't help swallowing hard.
“We?”
“Yep. Me, my brother and Sett. Just like old times. What do you say?”
He wouldn't have anything to say to her, so he asked for some time. He had to knock himself out with meds again to stop the anxiety attack and be able to sleep.
She had given him 72 hours to answer.
He couldn't stay still and let her spill everything she knew, but he also couldn't take Kayn to them and finish shattering him in pieces.
He couldn't tell Kayn about that, not in a million years. And yet, more than anyone, Kayn deserved and had to know.
Chapter 43
Notes:
Sorry for the delay! I spent some time without my laptop and end of the year is really crazy, right? But I hope this chapter can make it up for you guys. I would love to read your feedback. See you!
Chapter Text
Sunday morning came and went and Kayn’s eyes were still wide open. Inside the studio and far from his phone, he would be locked in his own world until everything wears off. The shakiness in his hands confused him for excitement for a while, but now the hyperfocus isn't a sniper shot of confidence but a messy machine gun strifing inside his head. He finds himself surrounded by his notes scattered on the carpet floor. There were a couple of burnt holes where he dropped some cigarettes and by then he was just vaping mint ice instead of drinking water. Feeling as dry as he was dehydrated, as stale inside as his teeth were grinding. The scribbled lyrics smudged pretend feelings into papers and more papers.
Pentakill blasted inside there, from every direction. Kayn paced, scratching his scalp, swallowing dry. It could be as if Mordekaiser laughed, finding him so pathetic that it didn't even have what it takes to be infuriating.
“Why did I think I could do this?” he hissed, tried to crack his knuckles again, walking in circles. “Why did I even get inspired by them in this fucking concert?”
I'm nowhere near them.
I need water .
Both thoughts coexisted in his mind for a moment and his feet brought him to the mini fridge while his thoughts brought him to exhaustion. And he thought that while drinking water, finding it so silly how humans can still find something to live for out of anything. All he could do was strut in circles stepping in ideas that sounded genius half an hour ago, and all it takes is a mood drop for him to want to burn it all down.
He threw the empty plastic water bottle on the floor and walked back to the middle of the studio, sitting in the middle of those scattered pages, picking something up to analyze. The paper read:
I cook these ups in one snort and a half,
and I'm so fucked up my heart breaks fast
And I think I can love enough to make art
I’ll change the world from your Amazon cart
If you buy enough I may love my own ass
Which I only don't because it would sell less
“Fucking self pity shit.” he crumpled the paper inside his fist and threw it somewhere, running his hands on his face. Sure healing isn't linear, but what can I do if it looks like a fucking waterpark slide?, he thought as his fingers dug into his hair.
“Hey, Kayn.”
That voice, followed by the dry sound of the door opening and closing, made Kayn jump to his feet.
Whatever that voice brought him, he couldn’t for the life of him direct towards some lyrics. But he thought that, if he were able to, maybe he was indeed an artist. But there would always be a void in between his feelings and whatever he could call art, and it was unsettling. It was unnerving that he couldn’t properly explain the feelings he had to feel.
Yone was coming closer, frowning at the scene he was watching. Everything was a mess of papers and instruments on the floor, and Kayn looked agitated.
“Are you alright?”
“It seems I forgot how to make lyrics.”
Kayn pushed some papers away with his foot and Yone cast a glance to them. He crouched and picked one up. In the paper there was some scribbled lyrics, hardly readable, but he managed to do it anyway.
Keep hitting dopamine so you can survive,
Give your money and wither while I thrive
Pleasure hits harder than whatever
Nothing is supposed to last forever
But you know damn well that pain does
So why d’ya even make such a big fuzz
Welcome to your bubblegum paradise
Where everything is rent and every word is nice
Just rip my skin to wear cause I can’t bleed
We have everything you want yet nothing you need
After reading the words, Yone lifted his brows.
“This is amazing. You have really good material here, you have to keep it.” Yone said as he stood up, rereading it, eyes focused on the sheets.
“Fuck off. AA BB CC, it’s like I'm stuck in an emo phase. Don’t pretend Mr Juilliard is impressed by this garbage.”
“Come on, Kayn, this is fire. All of the rhyme scheme can be worked on if you don’t like it. The concept is awesome, and I think you can express yourself very well with it.”
“Yeah, I'm shallow as a shower, so I can moan and bitch about how sad I am because of how famous I am. Nobody can fucking take this shit anymore.” He said as he got closer, drawn to Yone like a magnet.
“This is why it’s not about what people want anymore. It’s about what you want to say. Whoever want to listen, will listen.”
“Whatever. I don't know what’s the point of it anymore.”
Yone lowered the paper sheet and stared at a rumbling Kayn.
“You look really tired. Maybe you should get some rest and come back to it when-”
And all of a sudden, Kayn turned and stepped in to kiss him.
Kayn had lips capable of bewitching Yone and reducing him to a puppet of his own desires. From the first time they ignited unprecedented desires in his body, from the first time his hands conjured up deliriums that made him discover sensations in places on his body that he never imagined he could feel.
In that blood pump in his chest, for example.
That mouth was the lighthouse and also the sharp rocks. But now, it tasted like cigarettes and something wrong. So he broke the kiss and looked for Kayn’s restless eyes. He was there to talk, to have a serious, important conversation that he knew would go wrong. He slept badly, he was overwhelmed, and Kayn…
Wasn’t on his normal either.
“Are you high, Kayn?”
Kayn snorted and looked away, back to pacing around.
“Yep.”
Yone huffed, rubbing his eyes.
“Where did you get it?”
“None of your business.”
“If you are picking shit up anywhere you’d better call me to hook you up already, better than being seen on the streets or sniffing fucking fentanyl.”
“I’m not on coke again. I’m on amphetamines. It’s different. But some big ass dose of fent wouldn’t be a bad idea.”, he answered as he paced around.
The implication that him overdosing on fentanyl wouldn’t be bad to him was enough to give Yone a great deal of anxiety, so he bit his lip before saying anything.
“You know what, we can't do this now.” he looked away and gave his back. He wasn't going to leave, but Kayn thought he was, and the sensation took the air from his lungs, making him retort a little desperately.
“ When can we do it, then, Yone? We made all this stupid plan of pretending we broke up so that you could remain my manager and be by me during production, because you help me with inspiration and to pass my shit, but where the fuck are you?”
“Will I have to be next to you all the time so that you won’t do harm to yourself?”
“I'm not smoking meth, Yone, give me a fucking break. It’s just meds, you do them way more than I do. You don’t need to be next to me if it’s such a hassle for you.”
“Come on. Of course I want to be with you, I’m just too busy, but-”
“That’s the point! Look at your face, of course you are busy, stressed and a mess! And why is it, I have no idea! You’re keeping something from me again, aren’t you? Am I this unreliable?”
Yone was tired.
He didn't have to go through deeper meanings of tired. He didn't even have to mean his emotional state lately, he was just physically tired of trying to find a way out. But everything circled around the fact that he had only three courses of action: he would have to bring Alune and Heartsteel to Kayn, even when a letter from Ezreal was enough to push him off the limits; he would have to blackmail or threaten them, at the very real risk that they would expose everything they knew anyway, which brought him back to the first problem of the letter, only that now it may all be made public; or he would have to find a way to get rid of all of them , and he had to admit he had been thinking about it way too much already, enough to know the first option should be, even with everything at stake, the best one. Still it was a nerve-wracking cherry on top of his regular amount of stress.
So he was having a harder time measuring his words, or remembering he shouldn’t argue with someone on drugs.
“Well, are you reliable, Kayn? You know you aren't! We could talk, if you were sober! This was my idea all along for coming here!”
“Is your hypocritical ass going to go off about drugs now? Don't forget you were the one coming here manipulating me with drugs and you can't sleep without knocking yourself out.”
Kayn didn’t know why he was saying it, and Yone didn’t know why he was hearing it.
“I’m functioning at the very least! Did you sleep today at all?”
“ Function is all you do, fucking robot. Why is Ahri a better company than you are nowadays?”
Yone clenched his fists, fire burning the malva green of his eyes.
“THEN WHY DON'T YOU GO THERE WITH HER?”
The answer was fast as a ricochet.
“BECAUSE IT’S YOU THAT I NEED!”
And it ricocheted back again.
“I’M NOT YOUR FUCKING FATHER!”
Designed to minimize echoes and unwanted sound reflections, inside the studio those harsh words didn’t resound. The walls treated to absorb sound prevented it all from reverberating if not for inside their minds.
Although Kayn still breathed hard and deep, all of his posture dismantled and the rage that protected that big, sad emptiness he felt dissipated, making him stare the void back again.
“You know, you’re right.”
Yone swallowed hard. Fuck, what is happening to me?
“No, Kayn. I’m just worried about you.” He touched his shoulder to try to stop him, but the other brushed it off. “There’s so much going on, I didn’t mean…”
“Don’t bother. You’re right. I’m not a mess you have to clean up.”
“Don’t be like that, you know I didn’t mean it.”
“Let’s talk later. I’m off.”
“You’re not going anywhere like this.” He reached out and grabbed Kayn’s arm.
“Or what?” The singer pulled his arm to break away from the grip, stepping out. “Shit, I just need some air. I’ll be smoking weed on the back of a car to make this go away, I won’t be driving. Don’t worry, not-daddy . I’ll just enjoy bubblegum paradise, call my driver if you need.”
At Yone’s feet some more lyrics scattered on papers all over, all the restless brainstorming, and he pace around as he made the necessary calls to ensure Kayn was safe, and it felt like nothing. Once everything was silent again, he looked at his shoes and the sheets all around him.
He sat alone on the floor to read.
Stupidity’s the bullet, I aim the glock
But you’ll see, mom, I can suck cock
I'll be a good boy toy, sure, I'll go places
I’ll be the finest bitch of all those pretty faces
I can be taught, I can be tamed,
I can be seen, I can be raped
Did I bum you out with my sad shit?
Don’t worry, tomorrow you forgot it
I have to censor all my mess
and never make a scene
Cuz the one who says the yes
Is now raping a teen
Do I have to measure my words and rhyme?
Do I offend you on your phone as you wait in line?
Did I shit in your precious loved comfort zone?
Did I laugh at your small shitty dirty home?
Will I scare your kids if I cry and scream?
All I have are shatters of a broken dream?
Can I learn to love without being a curse?
Can I learn to love him and not make it worse?
Welcome to our champagne paradise
Where everything is bent and love has a price
Just rip my heart to shreds cause I can’t bleed
We have everything we want yet nothing we need
Yone wouldn’t cry for any poem he’s ever read, when he’s read so many technically perfect ones. And for someone so analytical he wouldn’t bother about a song with barely any finished metrics or pace to it.
Yet there he cried, again, the way only love, madness and guilt can make you do.
***
The first seconds of Kayn waking up was a mess, but not much different than many other dizzy, confused post-party hookups. In the bedroom, fresh flowers, framed black-and-white photography, mirrors, minimalistic sculptures, a chandelier. Everything was the same everywhere.
It was hard to even open his swollen eyes. His head was aching so much it felt like it may break in half, nausea hitting him hard from everything he had put inside his body on Sunday.
Yet nothing hurt more or churned his stomach more than being naked amidst Ahri’s rose gold high-thread-count sheet. That she’s sleeping by his side, also without clothes in her sculpted body but rose gold sheets.
He wasn’t unconscious, but he still could barely remember the details, everything too much all the time, but there were always too many thoughts inside Kayn’s head, like when her big front door opened for him on Sunday evening. He was on the verge of exhaustion, but that wasn’t his first rodeo, that unbearable feeling of the mind racing faster than he can even compute. His entrance had been authorized through the gates, and now he waited like a decrepit scarecrow until the golden lights from inside hit his eyes.
“Hey.”
Under the doorway, Ahri was wearing a beautiful red sundress and maybe her hair had never been messy at all. Her eyes were genuinely worried as her voice, as she stepped further.
“Kayn, are you okay?”
“I’m just a little baked right now.” He cooed. Very baked.
Weed would be useful as well as an excuse for the reddish bloodshot eyes.
“Are you okay? Won’t you need some help?”
“I’m fine. My driver is right there, if I’m too much trouble for you just ask him to throw me inside the car.” He lowered his gaze. “I think we should talk. And I really don't want to be alone right now, too."
I’m so pathetic. Just so fucking pathetic.
It was the thought he had in that moment, and it was the thought he repeated on that bed, burying his face in his hands and bending his legs towards his body. He felt himself shaking, from whatever it could be. He wanted to go there not to be alone, but he needed to sort things out with her. But soon they were kissing, and she was on top of him, and he didn't want it, but he also wouldn't be able say no because then he would have to be honest. He felt himself shaking, from whatever it could be. When you are this wrecked, if it’s an emotion or your body just desperately needing glucose, it hardly matters.
It seemed that his own movements didn’t go unnoticed, and the moment he felt the shifting in weight beside him, he held his breath, hoping with all he’s got that it doesn’t trigger him a panic attack.
“Morning, Kayn. How are you feeling?”
Her voice was still light, and it was only because of that that he felt like it wasn’t that scary. He breathed in hiccups, found courage somewhere inside him and brought it out in chains so he could utter what he had to say.
“Ahri, we really need to talk.”
***
Sunday night, Yone’s lullaby had been a bottle of wine. Monday morning, his breakfast had been a pill.
Amphetamines as well.
He was a hypocrite.
There wasn’t anything enough to convince him he should actually eat instead of that option. He saves time, which he almost doesn’t have at all to begin with. He can keep thin and pretty just like he needs to be. He works fast and well and he is so focused he almost doesn’t think about Kayn in between every single other thought, because those kind of medicine don’t allow the thoughts to intersperse.
Kayn was safe, after all. He’d slept in Ahri’s house.
It was all he should care about, right? He’s well, not thrown in a curb somewhere.
Kayn had slept in Ahri’s house, and he had many fucking things to do, and he had about 27 hours left, if Alune were rigid as she could be.
He would have to say it all to Kayn no matter which state he was in, so the employees of the house were supposed to warn him of whenever he arrived at the mansion. That, or he would go to Ahri’s himself.
It was three in the afternoon and the effects of the medicine were wearing off, right when Yone was back to his office building, and he thought he should take another one. That was when his new assistant warned him that Kayn had been waiting for him inside his office. Focus shifts, and it is all in entering the room as fast as he can.
Surely it was not the first time he saw Kayn sitting on his chair, but it was the first time he looked that messy while doing so. The dark rings carved under his eyes, the exact same clothes he was wearing the day before, all crumpled, and the anguish seared in his expression as he immediately stood up and hesitantly walked towards his manager, who locked the door behind himself.
An avalanche of words came out of Kayn’s mouth and his eyes darted everywhere but Yone.
“Well, you know, I shouldn’t, I did something I shouldn’t- You know already, you know everything. But I didn't want, no, she didn’t force me to do anything, by all means, I knew what I was doing. But I was very intoxicated, you know? That’s kinda- that’s still fucked up.”
“Just breathe, Kayn. I’m here. Don’t worry.” Yone hushed, trying to attract his gaze.
When Kayn swallowed hard and looked at him, it felt like he had swollen a thousand needles.
“I went for it, it wasn’t her fault. I’m not- I’m not shifting blame here. But this morning, we, I ended everything. I said I won’t see her anymore. I can’t do this, I’m sorry, I’m pretty sure she’ll tell Evelynn but I-”
“Kayn.”
" What?! ”
“Please, can I give you a hug?”
Kayn’s eyes flooded immediately and he threw himself into that hug as if he had missed Yone his whole life. Yone’s strength supported him again, always, and Kayn wished he himself were less of a log full of thorns for those arms to wrap around.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Yone. All I ever do is hurt you.”
“No. I’m not mad at you. You’re just trying to numb the pain, but enough is enough. We shouldn’t even have started Evelynn’s game, everyone loses to her.” He separated the hug only enough to hold both sides of Kayn’s face and stare right into his mismatched glimmering eyes. “I’ll face her. I’ll face everything else, you won’t have to see anyone else, fuck this! Fuck this, are you listening to me?”
The tears ran down Kayn’s face and he shut his eyes close for a moment. Still, he nodded, and as their eyes met again, he uttered the answer.
“Yes, I am. Yes.”
“We can’t let it destroy you. You’re stronger than that. More powerful than that.”
“I’m not-” He tried, but was interrupted. Yone was fierce even though he felt dizzy.
“Don’t. Don’t deny it. You know it’s true. It’s over for them, none of us can take it any longer.”
Kayn didn’t say anything in response, but fell into the hug again. Hugging back, Yone knew that nothing mattered more than that. He would protect Kayn. He had to.
So he continued, because that was something else he had to do.
“Let’s call it a day. We go to your place, you eat something, take a shower, we rest a little. We also have a lot of things to talk about. They are very important, and they cannot wait any longer. There are some things you have to know.”
Chapter Text
Kayn’s eyes kept firmly staring at the mask on his hands the whole time, and it was all he could see.
The drawing in neon paint was very familiar, yet not quite. He wanted to be able to say that it was Rhaast’s mask. But the mask just seemed like another prop piece for a forgotten script, another plastic memorabilia some designer he hired might have created, and it felt like a palpable deception. He took it with him as something to keep himself focused.
He was trying so hard, too hard, to remember that it was his story, not Rhaast’s.
It was dissociation if he’s ever felt it, detached from himself, unable to comprehend or even feel the proper feelings. Although he tried to remember many times about his past and what Aphelios and Sett had to do with it, nothing seemed to have been lived by him, and the memories were like a weird story someone told.
It was the story of that boy born in Detroit, whose father only beat him up and whose mother never cared. When that husband left her, she quickly found another one who would do things twice as horrible to him, and nobody came to save him. He would have to do it himself. That was a story of a boy who was too pretty for his own good, unfortunately, and he was made to believe it was his blessing, and his fault. That boy held in front of his face a mask of who he wanted to be. A feared demon, a dangerous menace. Not the sad little boy he was who never managed to be whole for a second in his life, and the closer he got to it, the more scared he felt.
In his mind, Rhaast was stronger than he would ever be.
“Kayn, are you okay?”
Not for the first time even on that day, Yone’s voice hauled him back, and he looked up, everything blurry in a certain way. Everything just as unreal as when Yone had told him that who was left of Heartsteel wanted to meet him.
They were inside a car, going to that meeting. Yone was driving by his side.
Alune. Aphelios. Sett.
They want to meet him.
The whole day before felt like a fever dream. From waking up in Ahri’s place to meet Yone to going both of them to his house to rest and talk. He made a mistake. Again. How is it a mistake when it happens so much, way more than the right decisions?
Yone was so forgiving. He was such a good person. Yone was everything he needed, and nothing he deserved.
Kayn’s eyes looked so dull that Yone swallowed hard.
“Are you alright?” he, asked again.
There was no use lying, so Kayn shook his head slowly.
“No, not really. But it’s okay.”
Yone frowned, sighing and swallowing hard again. That was wrong. That was so wrong.
“We talked about his. You say the word and I find a way to shut them down. They’ll regret ever threatening us like that.”
He wanted to just get this over with without having to involve Kayn. He can sue them so hard they shit themselves, he can blackmail them so hard they beg. But Kayn insisted, and he reiterated again.
“No. I want to go. I’ve told you already.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I do. I do have to. Let’s please not go back to this again?”
Yone sighed yet once more and gritted his teeth, nodding.
They had already gone through all the stages of surprise, disbelief, despair and rage, not all in this order. The day before was made of long hours, hours that Kayn ended up bursting out of the room and slamming the door; only to come back some minutes after apologizing because it wasn’t Yone’s fault. They talked about every aspect of the possible conversation, they agreed and disagreed at hundreds of things and nothing at all. They couldn’t sleep without being knocked out.
Next day, there they are. Driving across L.A. to get to The Prophetess’s office.
Even with all his usual indifference towards celebrities, reporter Vayne still looked shocked with having Shieda Kayn knocking on their front door. He didn't know exactly what phrases to formulate and remained with her brow furrowed, staring at the two men at the door of The Prophetess's office on the third floor.
Kayn, wearing a hoodie with the hood on, sunglasses and a dark jeans, had his arms crossed in front of himself; leaning back a little, head down and looking at his feet. By his side, in a shirt and dress pants, Yone, a briefcase in his hands.
"Can we come in?" The manager had said when he saw that Vayne wasn't giving them way.
"Yeah, sure. They're inside. Come in, I'll call them." Vayne seemed to come to her senses, returning to a casual tone. When she turned his back and entered the hallway, Kayn took a few stiff steps inside. He felt his steps come off the tiles on the hallway and touch the blue carpet and looked down as if he had a bait hook stuck in his windpipe, and his stare was occupied with watching the plastic side of his shoe deform weakly with each step.
Once inside, Kayn threw himself onto the single black sofa in the entryway and sighed painfully.
Yone had already guided him several times, but he felt like he needed t do it again, so there they were. Kayn was being advised not to say anything compromising, since they could very well be recording everything, with their insistence in having the meeting there; the money and opportunity deals that Kayn could use as leverage and how far he should be able to go; keep answers simple… Kayn already lost focus and didn’t absorb anything else Yone was telling him.
The low creak of the door diverted Kayn and Yone's gaze to the hallway door. Kayn saw that thin young man, in a blue jacket. The last time he saw him, he was a sixteen-year-old boy in front of a keyboard, a teenager with a pimpled face, blue hair dyed badly and a really skinny body.
Now he faced an Aphelios with dark black hair that looked soft, the bangs a little bit in front of his eyes. He had his hands in his jeans pockets and his eyes were dull and slippery, as if there was an untouchable layer of oil covering his irises.
Kayn imagined everything about that moment, except the insane desire he would have to laugh; desire that he could not control. He burst into laughter, took two steps forward and saw a half-smile on the younger man's face cut into a line.
"I don't believe it. Holy shit, look at you!" Laughing nervously now, he stretched his hand forward, without really expecting to have his handshake returned. “Who’d said you’d end up looking this good?”
Aphelios stared at them in continuous silence of contempt. However, he extended his hand towards Kayn for the handshake. Behind him, came his sister.
"Kayn." Yone scolded, tugging on his hoodie and saying something to ease the impression. "Please. I know you're nervous, but people might get the wrong idea.”
"Don’t worry, Yone.” It was Alune who said it, a faint half-smile on her face. “This is a personal matter, it's not business, don't take it so seriously. We're just going to talk about old times. Maybe we still know Shieda a bit. You can go."
"I'll stay." When Yone insisted, he realized he sounded more like a stubborn child than someone with arguments.
"No, Yone..." She insisted, then a little more pointedly. ", Sett is goin to join us and today it's going to be just the four of us. I'm going to dismiss Vayne and Diana. You should go back to your office, or there won’t be a conversation. We agreed on it this way."
Yone nodded, hating it that they were still people who were important to Kayn; otherwise he would never allow himself to be blackmailed like that. It was Kayn’s choice, to allow it and follow their will. He nodded, and, although he really wouldn’t leave the building at all, he got out of the office itself.
Alune guided them to the next room.
There was no meeting room at The Prophetess. What they had done in that sense was to pull one of the tables to the center of one of the rooms with half a wall and arrange upholstered blue chairs around it.
“Do you want some coffee, Kayn?” Alune said as she was the last to enter.
“I’m good. I would like to go straight to the point with you all, if you don’t mind.”
The other door of the room opened just after Kayn found a chair to sit, and who was coming through it was Sett.
The brawler had always been a bigger guy; taller than them all, usually fond of exercising, the fingers of a bass player, and quite a horrible fashion sense. What Kayn was seeing, though, was an exaggeration of every one of those features. He grew into a huge man, and he wore tacky boots with a plain white tank top. The weather was colder that day, as it was November already, but he never seemed to feel cold at all. And alll the skin he showed in his hands, arms and face had some scars.
“Damn, Sett, you look even more threatening. Am I going to leave this room alive?” Kayn had to fill up the silence, out of the anxiety that situation.
“I don’t intend to beat you up.” He walked towards the table and grabbed one chair for himself. His voice was way deeper than when they were teens. “Even though you kind of deserve it.”
He spun the chair and sat on it with his chest against the backrest, across the table to stare at Kayn. If Alune’s tone was eerie and Aphelios’s was just mysterious, there was no doubt that Sett’s was just full of anger and resentment.
“I do.” Kayn nodded. “And I guess I wouldn’t mind if you punched me.”
“Oh, so you do know you’re a fucking cunt. Better late than never, I guess.”
“Sett, come on.” Alune said softly, and Aphelios approached Sett to sit beside him, touching his arm lightly without saying a word. His sister, though, continued, finding a seat for herself between her brother and Kayn. She had a tablet on her lap. “I know we all have really hard feelings about each other, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We won’t get anywhere if we start washing dirty laundry right away.”
Kayn continued, however.
“I just wanted to say it’s good to see you’ve all worked your way up.” Kayn said, then looked right at Sett and Aphelios. “And that you two are together. I knew you hooked up but I kind of shipped you two very hard way back.”
“Yeah. It’s an interesting way to bond, licking each other’s wounds. At least Phel's community college money financed us when his father found out about his debts and his sexuality and kicked him out of the house.” Sett answered, then nodded towards Alune, his finger making a gesture of showing around. “But your money financed this shit right here. At least we had Alune since the beginning.”
“I have to say, though. All of this is a lot of dedication just to get back to me.”
It was Alune who answered.
“Actually, it was more of a business plan. I was already a journalist, you gave them money. If I can make content out of it for us, even better.”
Kayn had made the jokey comments just so he wouldn't seem intimidated by what they had, so he wouldn't feel submissive, so that he would have any control in a situation that was slipping through his fingers like sand. However, this was the time to stop, before they both thought he was there to make fun of them. After all, he was indeed intimidated. He was scared shitless, if he were honest with someone, and the fear of getting punched by Sett was the least threatening thing in that room. It might even be cathartic.
He knew they were going to bring Ezreal up and he had no idea how he would react.
So he sighed.
“You know, I hate apologies because they are worthless. They shift the blame, the one who did harm is now free and the burden of being a good person and accepting it goes to the one who was hurt. But I still want to apologize, even though I think you’ll never accept it.”
“We would, you know?” It was Aphelios who hushed, finally, and it brought shivers to him. His voice was harsh, struggled out of his throat suffocatingly. “If you just came to us yourself, like a man, without having to be cornered and blackmailed to do it, if you truly wanted to help. If it sounded honest to the very least, and didn’t just throw money our way by your employees, we would have accepted your apologies.”
“After all, it’s not like you were the sole responsible for our failure.” Sett complemented. “We know we just weren’t as good as you were. We were very aware of this even back then, you were on another level. But, like… you overstepped a little bit when you lied to all of us and stole everything from your best friend, don’t you think?”
Kayn's already strangled breath started choking him and he immediately lowered his head. Aphelios exchanged a tense look with Sett, all movements slow. Meanwhile, they watched the singer grind his teeth, clench his fingers and very slowly raise his head again.
"Don’t bring him up like this." That's all he said.
With that sentence, Sett was back to it, the anger bleeding into his words unavoidably.
"Why? He might not be our bestest friend, but he was our friend still. Now, yeah, I know, you... I don't know what you had, but he fell in love with you."
"We never even had anything-..." Kayn tried.
"It doesn't matter if you never hooked up or had sex.” Sett interrupted him. “He fell in love with you, that's the truth. Maybe not even in a romantic way, but he did. He found in you an inspiration, an idol, a brother, a love. And you took the heart he handed to you on a plate and threw into a shredder."
The singer shook his head. All he could think about at the moment was leaving that room. Maybe it really was the most sensible thing to do. However, his conscience was too heavy for his stupid strength of his legs to lift him from that chair.
"You have no idea." he murmured "You have no idea what it was like."
Then it was Alune who spoke, as she put a tablet on top of the table.
"We do have an idea. It was the most beautiful friendship, even I could see it when you were in Seattle. Do you remember this day, Kayn?”
She propped the tablet with the screen up, towards Kayn, and touched the black screen for a video to play.
It was Alune, behind her what was like a simple studio setting.
“Hey, that’s me, Alune. You may know me only for my voice and my channel, The Prophetess, so, that’s a face reveal! But that’s the lesser of the news. You know I’ve been working a lot with many celebrities, but it isn’t any secret that my channel has been accompanying Shieda Kayn for a long time now. But what you all don’t know is that it’s been for way longer than anyone may imagine. So, I came here to talk about something that I’ve prepared for some time now, and that had been behind this channel all along. This is why this video is called ‘Heartsteel: An untold story of Shieda Kayn’s first band.’
The image changed for Sett on a couch, in an interview setting.
“We met Kayn in the bar we used to go. We were teens, so the owner usually didn’t allow us to drink inside. So we used to hang around, on the curb, in a desert spot nearby close to a park, wherever we could. Tommy usually allowed access to the stage to any artist or comedian that wanted to present there, so many times we did, until one Friday, that another boy was meant to participate. He- man, he was something else. It’s hard to deny. His stage presence, was just absurd. When he was our vocalist, things started changing for us.”
There was a light song edited with the video, a rather sad soundtrack that he didn’t recognize, but maybe it was something Aphelios had composed for the keyboard. Kayn was feeling all the heat leaving his body and he was about frozen when the next video started, and he saw a face that used to belong to him.
It was a fifteen year-old Kayn with an eye patch and a long hair dyed bright green, already bleaching to blonde on the tips. He was shirtless under a coat, sitting on the curb, holding a bottle inside a paper bag. The camera was pointed right at him, but it showed Sett by his side as well, in a tank top even in such a cold Seattle night. They had just gotten back, at four or so in the morning, from another presentation at Tommy’s, and, this time, for some reason it was way more crowded than usual.
While everyone else was your regular everyday adolescent, full of pimples and weirdly long limbs, Kayn had always been a very handsome boy, much to his disgrace.
That handsome boy was putting his hand in front of the camera.
“Get this out of my face, Lune.”
“You have to train for your future interviews!” Alune’s voice was heard behind the camera. A younger version of it, and way more cheery. “Tell us about how the concert went today, come on!”
“It’s not a concert, it’s just us playing in Tommy’s again.”
“You’re such a bummer!” It was Sett’s laugh beside him.
“Rhaast, damn, don’t be rude to the paparazzi! Enjoy the flashes!”
That voice.
All slurred, severely drunk, but unmistakeable.
In the present, Kayn’s bones were made of ice. In the past that he watched on the tablet, another green-haired boy appeared on the video, throwing his body beside Kayn and his arms around his neck. And while it made the young Kayn in the video smile, it knocked the air out of present day Kayn’s lungs.
He hadn't seen that face in so, so long.
And he missed it so, so bad.
That bright, flushed face of Ezreal’s was so distant in his memories that he was almost forgetting it, and right now, he would almost thank them for showing it again, if it didn’t hurt like a jaded knife in his throat. And, as well, he couldn’t breathe.
Kayn watched himself smile and surrender at the mere presence of his best friend, so he softened his tone.
“It was a good concert, yeah. Today it was very full, guess it was the free tequilas near expiration date.”
“They get even BETTER like this! And the concert was amazing!” Ezreal tumbled out the words, and then kissed Kayn on the cheek. “You’re fucking amazing!”
Ezreal tumbled over them to kiss everyone else’s cheeks as well. That way he was, the energetic sunshine, lovable, loving, loved. He remembered that Ezreal would later burn himself with a cigarette and sleep on Sett’s shoulder, and that they would end up having to carry him back home.
Breathless, Kayn noticed the image blurring, and it was from his own tears.
He lifted his eyes and nobody in that improvised meeting room seemed to be cherishing the pain they were causing him. Nobody there looked anything but torn.
Aphelios has his lips pressed to a line, his whole grimace made of displeasure. Alune by his side had also a dismayed expression, while Sett was looking away, arms crossed.
It was me.
I did this to them.
Kayn tried to control his tears, but they flew freely, and, yet, he still felt like he couldn’t breathe. His hands felt alien. His chest hurt.
“I can never watch this shit.”, Sett’s lips were trembling and his eyes were glimmering. “It never stops fucking hurting, and it didn’t even start.”
Alune reached out and paused the video. There was at least an hour more of content.
“I had to have Diana edit this for me. It is hard even for me, and, I basically just watched you guys.”
Kayn was hyperventilating, so he lowered his head and grabbed his hair, resting his elbows on the table and trying his best to breathe.
"In the days after we realized you were really gone, he disappeared, for well over three weeks. But... it wasn't like Ezreal to leave people behind. You know... he was the best guy." Sett placed something on the table with a thud, and it brought Kayn’s attention to see it was his phone. "He left me a voice message, probably from a paid phone or something like this. This is not going to be on the video, but you should listen to it. Look, I must warn you that I always cry when I hear it. "
Kayn didn’t have time to process before Sett pressed play on the recording on his own phone.
"Hey, man. Sett, are you there?"
Kayn would not forget that voice, because it was the soundtrack to his nightmares. Not the same voice from the video, because there wasn’t any cheer in that. Quite the opposite. The writhing voice was definitely crying, and it was definitely Ezreal as well.
No, please.
" I don't know if... "A very long, wet, heavy breath. " I... Man, there's nothing I can say. I'm sorry . I brought Rhaast into Heartsteel because I thought we needed him, but he doesn't seem to need us. I don't know what else... I don't have anything to say. I'm tired of making the wrong choices, I can't bear to take everything from you guys again ."
Ezreal took a deep breath and sniffled. He swallowed hard and his words lost the painful tone of tears. They straightened up, determined.
" I sold my drums and my van, I'm going to send you the money before I, I don't know, I… do something stupid with it. I hope it pays off for the money he took from us."
Tears filled Kayn's eyes and he couldn't hold them back without his chest exploding. Claws from the past dug into his insides and finished disemboweling him. They didn't seem willing to stop until Kayn was out of breath, until his heart was torn out and his lungs were coughing.
"You were always my band and you never let me down. You were my family for years and I let it be destroyed. So I'm leaving. Thanks for everything, man, good luck with your life, I hope you can make the best of it. Give Phel a hug, and... sorry again. "
When Kayn wiped away his tears, his hands were so cold they seemed inert.
"There was just one problem… Ezreal was living in the van." Aphelios insisted, raspy voice covering the silence. "Do you remember? You two were. He couldn't pay the rent on his house anymore because we lived on the road. Where was he going to live now?"
"When I tried calling that number back, no one answered; it was a pay phone. The next time I heard of Ez, he was in a cemetery."
With the last sentence of Sett, Kayn choked and began to sob. He felt physical pain in that unbearable lump in his throat; but that was perhaps too mild a definition of what he felt. He would say it was like having his larynx opened with a knife. If he tried to speak, he would choke on blood. If he tried to cry, he might not even be able to breathe.
“Stop.” With the little air he could breathe, he used it to beg. He was slipping away from reality and he felt the panic attack settling in. “Stop, p-please. I’m begging you.”
Sett got up suddenly, walking around the table.
Even his steps seemed to echo distant, yet thunderous, to Kayn, and suddenly for fim, that huge man was in front of him, lowering his body so he would stare at his face and look into his eyes.
“Look at me. LOOK AT ME!” He yelled. “We know we weren’t good like you were. You did so many bad things to get us a gig and we still fucked things up big time. We are not the martyrs in this story. But what you did was so, so wrong, Kayn. If you truly feel this amount of regret, and we know you do because you sent us money, why can't you do something? Why don't you stop feeling sorry for yourself and BE A GOOD PERSON?”
Kayn tried his best to answer, but he not only didn’t know what to say, he forgot what words were like and how to utter them. He could barely focus in Sett’s blue eyes and everything was so, so distant. He hugged himself and started moving back and forth in an attempt of a soothing motion.
“Stop, Sett.” Aphelios had gotten up as well, and held the other’s arm to guide him away from Kayn. His voice groveling out of his throat sounded like the soundtrack of a horror movie to Kayn. “He’s not even going to be able to understand you like that. I can recognize a panic attack when I see one.”
“We should call Yone.” Alune said softly to her brother. “This is not going to get anywhere.”
“Yeah, call Yone already.” Sett said as he gave his back and walked to another side of the room, staring at a blank wall. “I can’t be here watching him like that, and if he freaks out it’s on us.”
So Alune approached Kayn, dragging her chair closer, keeping her tone calm and collected.
“Can you understand me, Kayn? Just nod if you do.”
Kayn looked at her, and even though he wasn’t that sure of it, he nodded.
“Listen. We don't intend to make you look bad just for the sake of it. But the world should know about what happened. You’re not a monster, Kayn. We know that. But you’re also not a good person. And you lived off this for too long already. You can sue us, threaten us, anything you’d like. We are going to post this video, with or without your consent or participation. But we brought you here because want your testimony to be a part of the video. We want people to know what you have to say about it all, or in your defense. So, this is your chance to say what you want to say about it all, for the whole world to know. It’s going to be your choice, and your choice only. It doesn't need to be now, but it needs to be soon."
Chapter Text
Everything from that point on in that meeting was a blur, but one thing was immensely clear.
The moment Yone walked through the door, he could breathe again.
With him, everything was alright. He wouldn’t be so afraid anymore, he wouldn’t feel like he was about to have a heart attack. That slender back towered in front of him as Yone put himself in between him and his former band members, shielding him from the threat. He was saying something to them, and he sounded guarding and powerful even if unfathomable and uncomprehensible, like a true angel must sound.
As they came back from the meeting to his house, he didn’t demand Kayn to speak, as he, in a certain state of shock, remained silent and staring at the distance. He just had his hand on his thigh and said ‘I’m here’ over and over, making sure he wasn’t in need of a doctor.
They arrived in his house, too huge for his own good, as if he weren’t ever able to reach the end of a room.
In the living room, the closest place they found, Yone guided them to a sofa and hugged him.
Yone was only human, yet he carried him and everything he meant on his shoulders.
Kayn cried until there was not a single wall left around him, in Yone’s arms, for who knows how long.
Sett had said, why don’t you stop feeling sorry for yourself and be a good person?
That was a really, really good question.
Eventually, Kayn was lying on the sofa, curled up to a ball, legs crossed to his chest, head leaning on Yone’s thigh, facing his belly. In Yone’s hand there was his phone, and he was watching the video Alune wanted to post, earphones on not to allow Kayn to listen or see it for now. He was watching it before Kayn himself did.
There wasn’t anything else Kayn wanted to keep from Yone anymore. Fuck, he might not even want to keep anything from the world anymore.
Yone lowered the phone, still silent, and Kayn turned slowly on his back. He raised his eyes to him, still lying on his lap.
“What do you think?”
Yone took off his earphones, as serious as he had been throughout the watch.
“I think that they say they don’t care about a lawsuit, but I call their bluff. Let my lawyer talk to them, for them to se that they sponsor isn’t going to have their back, and that they’ll end up bankrupt and screwed for life. Besides, they’re exposing teenagers, even if you’re grown up now.”
“No. About the content of the video. What do you think about it?”
“What about it do you want to know?”
“You see what I told you? What I did to them?”
Sighing, Yone left his phone aside.
“I saw four teens getting wasted on the street and driving alone around the country without as much as one parent or relative to guide them. Actually, what I saw was many adults enabling kids to do things they weren't supposed to be doing. Even the bar owner was exploiting you all for entertainment and pretending he didn’t see you drink.”
Kayn lifted his body and sat down to stare better at Yone. He didn’t sound condescending; in fact, he seemed very practical and collected, and the fact that he saw it so differently than that Kayn would intrigued him.
“What? No, it wasn't like that.”
So Yone continued.
“You know I’m privileged, but I know one thing or two about psychology, even though it doesn’t mean I always know how to use it. What I do know, though, is that when life isn't kind, what is a right sounds like a privilege. You were all neglected to say the least. I mean, I know what you did. You stole from them, you did something bad, you know that already, and yeah, it must have made their lives hell. But if they had a family to begin with they wouldn’t have gone through so much. Aphelios’s father kicked him out when he found out he was gay, but he had Sett and Alune as a support network. Sett had a mother that he really seems to adore to the brink of toxicity, but she was way too permissive and didn’t seem to care about the bad shit he was doing to himself as long as he brought money home. It also looks like Ezreal’s family preferred to have a dead daughter than a living son. And you, God knows the horrible things you went through. All of this before you even turned eighteen. You did something really bad, Kayn, but you hardly knew much better. You were all too young. You are still too young.”
For a second, Yone saw the hope in Kayn’s eyes clear as day. The clouds of self-doubt covered it, however, and his voice thundered hurt. He looked away.
“You don't have to say all that just for me not to freak out. I know I’m dangerous when I do, but still.”
“I’m just giving you an outsider perspective. From what it looks like, Ezreal was surely someone lovely, everyone saw him as optimistic, extroverted, dreamy, empathetic, just a joy to be around. But he was also very intoxicated in many of these videos, and it kind of seems it was something he did a lot. He didn't seem to take the band as seriously as you did, he was living the moment and the dream and making several mistakes along the way. His works were high-energy, taking it for Paranoia and the other samples here. Yours is serious, deeper, moody, even when energetic as well. It seems really hard to balance. If you stayed, maybe you could have saved him, maybe you were going to drown with him. We can't know for sure. On the other hand, even they admit it many times, you were the best of them. They were dragging you behind and I bet you felt betrayed, too, by their lack of commitment. I bet you thought it was the right thing to do to people that were holding you back from greatness, because they just didn't want to work as hard as you did.”
Kayn swallowed hard and it ached as if something has been stuck in his throat his whole life.
“Don’t say it like that.”
“Am I wrong?”
Instead of answering, Kayn looked at his own hands, in silence.
Yone waited a little bit, feeling that it was all going too well and he couldn’t know what to expect. For someone who was this fickle and erratic as Kayn, he was acting so much like a scolded child that it was a bit scary. Maybe the memories opened up a box that had been buried way too deep.
“Dead people can't sin, right?” Yone continued, keeping his voice low. “Yasuo will always be the favorite kid, he isn't here to disappoint anymore.”
“Ezreal has never disappointed me.”
“I’m sure he did. Everyone close to us does sometimes. It just feels wrong to think about it now, because you feel guilty and he is not around anymore.”
“Even if. It doesn’t excuse what I did.”
“No, it doesn’t. But still, certain people just aren't meant for the crown. Nobody wears one without having to defeat the pawns, but you can do something different once you have it. Second chances aren't for the ones who deserved before, but for those who want to be different from now on.”
Why don’t you stop feeling sorry for yourself and be a good person?, Kayn heard again Sett’s voice a little too real inside his mind.
He pulled his knees to his chest again and hugged his legs, but remained sitting down and looking at Yone.
“How is the video? The content.”
“Objectively, they are not being too unfair. It’s very biased, though. It’s very emotionally charged, it’s a really good piece, technically speaking. It is made to bring people to tears and to questioning, so they don’t straight up attack you or even say many bad things about you. The problem is that it feels worse like this.”
“What if I just record this fucking testimony and be a part of it?”
“The backlash will be huge, Kayn. This is something very controversial, even if you give your side to the story. There’s no guarantee they won’t butcher it. Everything with Evelynn’s finger on isn’t a good idea. And even with saying everything you possibly can, you’d still be the object of public scrutiny about every aspect of it.”
“Maybe it’s for the best. That’s what I deserve anyway. People should know who I really am.”
“I thought you might want them to expose you, so I have a plan.” Yone held his phone again, not to show anything, but just to illustrate a point. “I got them to send the video to me, so the material is with me already. If we work overnight, we should be able to edit our own version with your testimony, release Paranoia along with it, giving all the credit to Ezreal. Then, we return all the revenue from the documentary itself and the song to organizations that support and house trans and LGBT youth. We can make it a thing for you.”
Kayn sighed, shaking his head slowly and rubbing his eyes.
“That’s just performative.”
“What are we but performers? Still with that you may stop another trans boy or girl from dying alone on the streets. You can start making a difference, Kayn. You can be yourself. Truly.”
“They should have the credit for the documentary slash exposed. It was their hard work.”
“With Evelynn’s support. I’m pretty sure they don’t know how much of a bitch she can be, but they’re still backed up by her, even if just financially. You can send them the revenue instead, if you prefer. Without having to resort to her.”
The singer rubbed his eyes and buried his face in his hands as he felt his heart starting to race once more.
“I know you’re a businessman and this may be a good idea, but I can’t think of it in terms of marketing now, Yone.” Kayn said as he got up.
With that sentence and seeing him standing, Yone was already expecting Kayn to leave him in the living room alone as he so frequently does when he’s contradicted. It would be good enough if he didn't start swearing and cursing at him for even bringing this up. But instead, he walked just one step to the side, standing just right before him.
“I don't care how it happens, but people should know who I am. I’m done pretending. I keep messing everything up for anyone who gets close to me. Look at our, at my stupid plan with Ahri. I decided everything without you because I hated the idea that you wouldn't be my manager, I may have hurt someone nice and, worse, I hurt you, I did all I did because the moment you weren’t by my side all the time I started freaking out, because you-”
Much to Yone’s surprise, the singer knelt on the floor in front of him, spreading his knees to fit in between his legs. Before Yone could properly react or understand what was going on, he felt Kayn’s arms wrapping around his waist, his head leaning on his crotch. Although there wasn't any lewd movement insinuating anything more than affection, the position was of the most intimate kind of surrender. The singer went on as he buried his face on Yone’s crotch and it was such a thin, blurred line between pure devotion and sheer enticing.
“You have me, Yone. I don't know what to do about it, and even though I don’t want it to be your problem, it is already. I guess I liked it that you were jealous of me, that you didn't want me away from you, I wanted to have control where I can't. And still I hate it that I’m such a heavy load for you all the time.”
Then he stopped nuzzling Yone’s pants to lift his supplicating eyes to him.
“Can you punish me? I'm sure I've made you angry. I'm sure you’re tired and stressed of dealing with my shit all the time. That I am too much to deal with.” he pleaded softly, but his eyes exhorted.
It was true. Yone was tired, frustrated, stressed, anguished. And sometimes really crossed his mind the thought of taking it out on the one invariably related to all of those thoughts and feelings, most of which not even he could comprehend. He’s used to the grind, he can’t stay still too long, so the amount of work and concerns wouldn’t be such a big deal if there weren’t convoluted along with so many intense and conflicting feelings.
Instead of punishing, though, Yone ran his fingers on his hair and Kayn felt like purring, so he groaned low and sighed, the soft touch against his scalp making him shiver and the hot, delicious scent of him filled his lungs.
“I could. But I don’t think we should do anything in this sense now. Everything is too fresh for you and you may be confusing the feelings.”
Kayn held Yone’s hand and brought to his neck, pressing the other’s fingers against his trachea.
“We don't have to fuck. Maybe you can just slap me or choke me, just so that both of us feel relieved right now. I just need something I feel I deserve.”
Yone adjusted the grip around the other’s neck not to suffocate him, and didn’t choke him as asked, but kept a steady grip around his throat.
“Convince me, then. Why should I?”
“Because you’re too nice to me. I deserve worse, way worse. You feel so good all the time, Yone. You’re so in control of everything. You make the pain go away and I love it, but I hate it. But when I'm away from you, I don't know why I do the things I do. I attack you and I run from you because I need you way too much and I never expected that. You are…”
everything to me now.
Kayn stared at Yone’s face in hopes he wouldn’t have to look at the rubbles of the walls that were collapsed around him. He was afraid of when he noticed how vulnerable he really was; but it just felt safe. It just finally felt safe.
The rest of the sentence lingered between them while the whole confession was more than enough to settle a haze in Yone’s perception. Everything came around in the mist, surrounding him, damping his skin, blurring his reason. In his hands, the regained sense of control and power that always seemed lost when he tried to understand or merely deal with Kayn. He didn’t know what he thought about all that, but he could conclude it felt good.
So he tried it out.
“You know why I don’t mistreat you?” His fingers slipped to hold Kayn’s chin, keeping him looking up at him. "Because I take care of what’s mine. And you are mine.”
After he said, he waited, scrutinizing Kayn’s expression. There was softness, but it felt like the haze spread to him. So he added.
“Do you like hearing that?”
“Yes. But you can give me all, and I still want more. That’s who I am.”
Yone grabbed him by the neck again, this time tighter. He smirked and lowered his tone.
“Do you think I'm so little that you’ve already had all of it?”
This time, Kayn grinned wide.
He couldn’t ever understand why feeling someone more powerful than him could ever feel good, when he has been trying to get rid of this type of thing his whole life. But when it was truly a choice, he could reenact submission because it was safe, maybe he could go on until he ressignifies it. He brought his hands to the one in his neck, that hand that had brought him to heaven and back so many times. The hands of a businessman, of a pianist, of a brat tamer. The beautiful, soft, exfoliated, moisturized, manicured fingers.
“Sorry for underestimating you. Please, can you punish me? Pretty please ?” Kayn’s smirk and tone were back to teasing,
Yone nodded, a faint smile on his face, releasing Kayn’s neck. He looked so stern and beautiful that it wouldn’t even seem that he would indeed lift that hand and slap across Kayn’s face, hard. He didn’t apply too much strength, but he didn’t exactly hold himself back either. For everything shitty Kayn has said and done to him, for every time he didn’t listen, for all the times he tried to ruin everything. Maybe one slap was too little, or maybe too much. Still, Kayn received that for all of those times as well, not enough but too much, yet no more than just deserts. He sighed deeply and his eyes welled with tears, his face burning. Even so, however, he held the hand that slapped him and started pressing kisses to it. Now it was a hand that may repent him.
“Thank you so much.”, Kayn said between soft kisses from his wrist to his fingertip, all across his palm.
Yone watched him do it, and then reached out to caress gently the reddish marks he left on him. It was hard for Kayn to remind himself he was just human when he felt this sublime.
“All you have to do to stop feeling like you deserve this all the time is making a change.”
Stop feeling sorry for yourself and be a good person, yet once more Kayn repeated to himself.
There was something that haunted him about it, though.
“What if I can’t?”
Yone was prone to saying something until he himself believes it, faking it until you make it.
“It’s more of a choice than an ability. You make a mistake, you try again, differently this time. Repeat after me what you said at the Pentakill concert: ‘ We’ll show them, Yone. We’ll show them all what I’m made of. "
“Yone-...”
“Say it.” Yone interrupted, severe in tone and expression.
Kayn nodded, and then repeated, obediently.
“We’ll show them, Yone. We’ll show them all what I’m made of.”
“Good.” He softened his countenance and then reached out for under his arm instead, showing that he wanted him to get up from. “Now com’ere.”
Kayn followed his guidance until understanding that he was supposed to climb on his lap. Then, it felt natural, and when he sat on his thighs and his chest was against Yone’s, he wrapped his arms around him for dear life.
“We will show them what we’re made of, Kayn.” Yone hugged him back, the same fire inside him that kindled the warmth of his embrace ignited the fury in his eyes. “But you gotta stay in line, and we have work to do.”
Chapter 46
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Inside that two-story house in Newport Coast, the glow from the gas fireplace flickered softly and the faint scent of pine and frost lingered in the air, mingling with the glow of the holiday lights Kai’Sa had already begun to string in specific places inside the living room. She wasn’t as homey as that usually, but the distance from home made her sort of fond of the thematic holiday commemorations with her wife, even if the last time it snowed in Los Angeles was in 1989.
It was all very welcome for Akali nevertheless, but she wasn’t thinking about that at all. She sighed as she already slipped off her heels with ease, her toes sinking into the dark plush rug that sprawled across the living room, that good feeling being the first good thing that happened in that day.
This week had been grueling, even for her. Back-to-back board meetings, all next year planning and scheduling to finalize. And that Friday, especially, had been absolutely insane.
The beginning of November had gone pretty smoothly in terms of what mattered, which was work. As far as possible, she hasn’t seen Kayn like that in a long time. He still seemed disinterested, but he wasn’t the absolute pain in the ass that he has been the whole fucking year, and he just accepted whatever came his way without much more than a snarky comment. He was spending most of his time inside the private studio in his house and the few times they met he grudgingly showed her some awesome lyrics that she was excited to go back to. Surely she had been just being overly hopeful, but the problem was that she really liked Kayn. He had been someone she had loved to work with, powerful, competent, passionate. And her love was the production, but now she’s been stuck with obnoxious collusions and yawnsome meetings.
When they saw that Yone and Kayn didn’t really seem like they were actually apart from each other, Evelynn resumed her plan of removing Yone as Kayn’s manager for the next year, and she knew she would want her, Akali, to be left holding the bag.
And now that prospect seems worse than ever.
Evelynn had said that he’s now Yone had Kayn on a leash, and that now he is the one in power. But her peeves with Yone were something else Akali really didn’t care that much to begin with, although with which she was entangled. Not that she didn’t believe Evelynn could be right and that someone like Yone would surely be onto something, but she truly felt like a conspiracy theorist most of the time. Evelynn was sharp and smart, however, and obviously to her it was better to just destroy someone innocent than allow someone guilty any room to act.
Yet, the last board meeting they had, just this morning, made it seem that, unfortunately, Evelynn may be right one more time.
It’s not like Yone to be late to things, but she would call that a dramatic entrance . They were all at the HQ, about to start with the first bullet points on budget finalization when he walked through the door.
Behind him, Shieda Kayn himself.
“Excuse the time, guys. I held him back, I was trying to choose my prettiest tie to join you. Do you guys like it?” Kayn showed the deep purple tie he was wearing along with an otherwise all black three-piece suit. The awkward murmurs and shy answers seemed to amuse him, or he was so fucking medicated that the faint smile wouldn’t leave his mouth. He pulled a chair to himself and threw himself on it; although nonchalant, he looked exhausted. Yone stopped by the table, leaning his briefcase on the meeting table.
“I also would like to excuse myself. There’s a good reason for that, one I hope to explain. I will request time for a last-minute addition to the meeting agenda.”
K’Sante didn’t seem surprised, nor annoyed or entertained. A soft, but deliberate clatter sound rose as Evelynn’s nails drummed on the wooden surface of the meeting table.
“Well, I have another meeting to attend at ten.” Evelynn shot back, glaring at Kayn for a moment. “This is to discuss budget allocation and merely key takeaways, not production. I think you weren’t aware of the briefings, Yone.”
“I am. I don’t intend to solve this in this meeting, I’ll propose it in less than a minute that we schedule another meeting. My assistant will send you my resignation as Kayn’s Artist Manager and Representative for digital signature on Monday, so we can discuss the subject after the holiday recess.”
The room went silent, even Evelynn staring at him in disbelief, what, again, Akali would be pretty sure that was Yone’s exact intent. Akali’s eyes crossed Kayn’s.
“I’m pretty sure these guys here will choose you to replace him, Kali.” The singer broke the silence, and as he attracted the head of production’s eyes, he winked at her. “Looking forward to working with you, babygirl. Next album is going to be fucking sick.”
“What are you talking about, Yone?”, Akali didn’t hold back, turning to the man standing by the end of the table.
“I am well aware that I’ve been accumulating functions and there were concerns regarding my participation and further partnership with K’Sante. I am also aware that much of this had been envisioned and talked about by members of the board, so Kayn and I talked about it. If it is the best for our company, next year I will gladly accept being removed on behalf of whoever the original proposer intended for the position. I brought Kayn here to assure you that he’s in agreement to work well with whoever is assigned.”
“If they, or she, can work well with me, he means.” Kayn added so perfectly that it looked even scripted, looking right at Akali.
Yone just nodded casually and pulled a chair for himself to sit on, across the table in front of Kayn.
“But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. As Miss Evelynn put, I’m sure all of your schedules are very tight, so let’s go back to our original agenda as to not lose any of your time. We can schedule another online meeting in a more proper time to discuss this subject properly.” He sat down and reached for his tablet on his briefcase. “Since I believe the first topic was projected revenue streams, I would like to propose that we start on the upcoming projected ancillary income for our social partnerships-...”
Yone went on with reciting entrepreneurial lingo as if he hadn’t just intentionally dropped a bomb in the beginning to stun everyone, and it was the last thought that seemed to have amused Kayn before there wasn’t anything else that interested him. He might as well have dissociated in the middle of the meeting, as he was silent and sunk on the chair staring somewhere at the wall across him.
Inside her house after that eternal day, Akali rubbed her eyes. Perhaps Evelynn by then is seething in rage inside a dungeon she might have in her house, stabbing slowly a big cursed needle through a voodoo doll of Yone. The fact that she didn’t even reach out to her after that meeting is probably a real bad omen.
The thought of vacances had reassured her that she’d trade the sharp suits and power lunches for linen dresses and languid evenings, but now, holy shit. She should brace for impact because something was coming.
Kayn and Yone were on to something, everyone there knew.
“Babe? Are you home?” She heard Kai’Sa calling for her, and Akali answered back, already walking upstairs to meet her wife. She was thinking of a long shared bubble bath and maybe going out for dinner with Kai’Sa, and she would still be able to thoroughly enjoy the first one before the plans for the second would be completely ruined.
She had no clue about the notification she was about to receive at the end of that already crazy day.
***
Nothing gave away the idea that this day would be anything but a regular Friday to Neeko. It was almost winter break and her plans were to go buy some groceries on the way home to make her girlfriend a nice dinner so they can watch the new episodes of her favorite anime of the season together. It was almost evening already and she was sitting on the subway from the Brooklyn College station back home after her classes, and under her hoodie she had her headphones on, scrolling in one social media then another while listening to her favorite singer.
Her favorite singer, obviously, was Shieda Kayn, as her hoodie and phone case would tell to anyone that looked at her on the subway.
Ever since she wrote that post that gained big traction for almost a week, user @cosplayerneeko gained a lot of followers. Not that she was that small of an account, because thanks to her amazing anime cosplays, she already amounted thousands of followers where she posts her photos and videos before. She was really active in a lot of fandoms, but no fan space had changed her life more than the Shieda Kayn fandom. Being a Shadower for years, his music spoke to her during hard times. She met her girlfriend Nidalee on the online servers and finally met her at a concert in New York, and they started living together as both went to college there.
Much like most of Kayn’s fandom, and like her girlfriend as well, Neeko hated The Prophetess’s channel. She hated the way he was depicted in titles and headlines when she had seen the entire video and it was just plain over exaggeration and drama most of the time. It’s been some time that they gave Kayn special attention. This was the reason why she wrote such a heartfelt reply to the post about Kayn getting arrested for drunk driving.
She was aware that she excused Kayn's behavior a lot, and that many of the things he did lately were problematic to say the least. But while the mainstream media is attacking him, the change she had seen in her idol in the span of one year was alarming and glaringly obvious for any true fan of his. Being his fan has been way more sad than fulfilling these days, but she would never give it up.
The first Kayn show she attended made her depressed teen self literally regain the will to live. She cried so much she thought she was going to burst a vein, screamed so much she lost her voice for two days. He was raw, visceral, beautiful. It felt like he both glided like an angel and raged like a devil on stage, banishing all her demons and cursing every man-made morality in the name of God. It made her sure of how amazing life could be, when there were these things able to make her feel this much joy, ecstasy and wonder. And then in another concert she got to share that feeling with the one she wanted to marry one day. They kissed for the first time while being pushed by fans in a raging crowd, lost in the intensity of the moment amplified by a million by the melody and there she knew her life would never be the same.
If there was something able to make her feel this way, it was surely worth living for. Or, better yet, it was surely worth living , period.
Last tour, however, had been like someone dragged him to stage and puppeteered him throughout the presentation. It was not only frustrating, it was depressing .
By all means, if being an artist was taking this much of a toll on Kayn, he should retire already. But they won't let him do it, they will keep on milking this cow dry until Kayn freaks out and maybe even kills himself.
There was something popping up a lot in the last months, too.
First Kayn gives crappy concerts and they get him another manager. After, he’s seen everywhere he goes with him, way more than with Zed. They travel together, go places together. He is seen with him and fans, so lighthearted and fun. Then his music video gets cancelled, he is arrested for drunk driving; he looks like he’s both in the best shape of the entire past year and also worse than he’s ever been, somehow.
He is seen giving a gentle kiss to a pretty model they have never heard of, and some time later entering a Halloween party (by the way, on his birthday ) with this same hot manager dressed in a gorgeous red dress . That day Neeko and Nidalee almost didn't sleep from how hard they had been fangirling. Next week the internet is flooded with pictures of him on dates with the same aforementioned model.
It surely wasn't the first time rumors of him with another man surfaced. All of the fandom has been LGBT friendly, which, as a lesbian, she experienced a lot, even though there’s toxicity there as there is in any online environment. So one would imagine Kayn wouldn't have to hide who he was like this. But she knew it wasn't this easy, and it broke her heart that she found love with his music and still he couldn’t.
Worst part was not being able to do anything about it all. She always commented sweet things on his social media, even when she imagined he wouldn’t read. She sent letters to him that she believed never even arrived. She knew he didn't remember that years ago he winked and pointed at her and said ‘yo, loved your hair’ in a concert as she was pressed against the stage barricade, but that was the reason she kept it dyed baby blue to this day.
All those weeks after the driving under influence incident that made her wrote a post, sometimes there’s still a new comment or repost on her vent, mostly because there was always something else happening. At that point, though, she just silenced all those notifications. There wasn't anything else new the last month about Kayn, the last thing being the dates with the model and then just silence.
She was arriving on her studio with groceries in hand and inside her backpack when her notifications from messages suddenly went insane. She had to leave everything on the floor to just see what it was already. The messages were from her girlfriend.
[lioness 💕]: BABE ??????
[lioness 💕]: KAYYN FUCKJIN POSTSD A VIDP
[lioness 💕]: VIDEO
[lioness 💕] ARE U HOME ARLEADY IM ALMSOT THER
It was enough for her heart to race and immediately she searched for the notifications of his channels, which she kept always on. They would have something else to watch that night, and they had no idea how changing that would be for them.
Neeko started shaking when she saw the title.
It was a forty-minute video called “ Two sides to a story: The untold story of Shieda Kayn’s first band. ”
***
When both Yone and Alune, side by side each in one computer, pressed that “Publish” button basically at the same time, Aphelios sighed, his heart racing, burying his face on is hands and sighing.
What a month.
He was thinking that it may take them a long time to process what those four or five weeks did to their lives.
It’s been almost one month that both he and Sett entered Kayn’s fucking mansion by the backdoors and stayed hidden there as if they were fugitives, alone like estranged guests. They didn’t even have to meet Kayn if not intentionally at the studio. It was infuriating that the house could be that huge while they barely managed to rent an apartment for a while in that stupid overpriced city in California, but, at the same time, if they even managed to rent that and still keep their one in Washington, it was mostly because of Kayn’s money to begin with, the money that Zed had handed them. Way more than has ever been stolen from them, and a money they probably wouldn’t be able to make themselves, not even with his sister’s channel.
And some more money would come their way, along with an absurd amount of exposure that made him hyperventilate only thinking about, and he couldn’t sleep well not even when he was already on a way bigger dose of ansiolitics than usual.
It should be the best choice out there for them all.
Yone drove a hard bargain, and so did his lawyer LeBlanc. They had too sweet a proposal to refuse, and too good a threat not to concede otherwise.
They post their original documentary on the Prophetess. Kayn would be a part of it and answer their specific questions. Everything as they had offered in the beginning.
But, simultaneously, Kayn posts his version on his website, which wouldn’t be much more than him commenting on the original one.
And before they had a problem with that, they were offered to record “PARANOIA” and have it playing at the end of each documentary, as long as enlisted everywhere with their names, for an insane amount of publicity. So they don’t come off as Kayn’s resented talentless friends, but as an acknowledgement of hard work and guilt, of artists that were overshadowed by Kayn’s star.
The content? Reviewed by all parties before released. The video revenue from Kayn’s private channel? All to him and Sett. The song’s revenue? Half to them, half to a specific organization that helps trans youth. Nothing to Kayn whatsoever.
Literally Yone’s proposal, word for word.
The motherfucker came with a contract already. He left the contract on the tablet in front of them and said ‘you can lament Heartsteel forever, being known as the envious losers behind Kayn’s shadow, or claim your place on this story. If you don't, Kayn is the only one to win.’
I've got people in my past try bringin’ me down.
It would be funny, if it weren't tragic, that PARANOIA spoke exactly of that. They had no idea any of them would even be famous one day, and they were still fantasizing about how it could be.
Maybe Kayn has always known he wasn't going to be anyone's hero.
Two sides to a story but they never tell my side
Never been the kinda guy to stay inside the guidelines
I know I'm the bad guy, I don't gotta ask why
If you try step to me, it'll be the last time
I got dirt on my name, six feet in the ground
I got people in my past try bringin' me down
Say I'm losin' my mind, I don't wanna be found
Grew up in the shadow but I know they watchin' me now
It’s been a while already that Aphelios understood that nothing he had grown up listening to in church really meant shit. Yet still sometimes he found himself wondering if it couldn't be that it was all supposed to be, all part of a bigger plan.
At that time on a Friday, seven years before, they might have been getting ready for a presentation inside a random bar, already drinking and swinging their fake IDs around.
Seven years more into the past, he was a child playing in the Church’s gospel group. He was blessed with talent, they said, ignoring how hard his parents made him train to acquire such talent . But he didn't dare to object. How could he deny a blessing? How could he doubt his God-given destiny?
Forgive me, Lord.
Somewhere in his pre-teen years, he would meet that big jock in school from the basketball team that liked rap music, with the kind smile and the stupid jokes, and he would get flustered in an evil, deranged way. They say that the Devil was the most beautiful of angels, and that demons remain beautiful to fool us.
Forgive me, Father.
He told Alune about it. About the sinner he was, and how hell was reserved for someone doing the things he did, feeling the emotions he felt. She had been raised with the same beliefs that he did, but she couldn’t believe he could be damned for life for being in love with someone.
Even when he was lying to his parents so that he could meet his new friends to play together their own songs, he was still praying at night.
Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me.
Then way more than being in love was added to his account. He kissed that boy, and did way more than that. He drank and he smoke, he lied and he missed church. He denied his path as a lamb of Christ and supported someone that denied the very body that God gave him. By the pastor’s words, he should even be called a she. And in his guts Aphelios concluded he didn’t even understand what it meant to love at that point, because how could love from God be instilled with so much hatred?
When in the end he found himself broke and betrayed, and it should have been his sign or his punishment.
But then his own mundane father closed the front door on him in a snowy December and only Alune ran off to find him.
It was in one of those lonely freezing nights that it hit him.
You can't forgive something if you don't even care enough about it for it to offend you. God even may exist, but he most certainly did not care. Not about his well-being, but also most certainly about who he loved or not.
At least Sett and his mother would give him shelter. And Sett would continue to be his shelter, even when they were almost destroying each other a couple of years later.
He was lucky that he could be saved. Maybe he was blessed .
Ezreal didn’t find the same fate.
Neither did Kayn, all in his own way.
That month had been eye-opening in several aspects.
Aphelios considered himself a good piano player and somehow very versatile with many instruments, but Yone, who he thought was just a businessman, was miles away from him in ability. When they were worried that it would take too long to produce the song and it wouldn’t be ready that same year, it was almost funny to that man.
“Leave it to me”, Yone had said. “You record everything and give me one week. The song will be ready.”
“We haven't even thought about how to finish the song’s composition yet.”, he tried.
“But I did,” he smirked and reached out for his shoulder, patronizingly. “Like I said, leave it to me. I'm not your everyday businessman, I came from Juilliard. Trust me, you’re gonna like it.”
Being humiliated like that by such a cool person even felt like something he should be thanking for. It was out of this world.
At least Sett had concluded almost the same and he didn’t have to hold back the thoughts for fear of making his partner jealous.
To Alune, Yone and the lawyer clarified everything about artist’s deals with the record company and how they’re allowed to do what they did. They ensured that Evelynn wouldn’t be able to sue them, but also made sure that she’d stop the money trickling to their accounts. Still, their prospects of profit were bigger than they ever were under her sponsorship, and even they knew that she would just stop paying anyway as soon as they’re not interesting anymore.
The first day in the studio was weird, but with Yone in charge of the whole flow, there wasn’t room for unprofessional awkwardness or for anyone’s snarky comments. Kayn was focused and didn’t exchange many words with them at all. He wasn’t rude, he just seemed to be a perfect stranger with whom they needed to work with, and that was all.
Two things stood out immensely throughout the recordings and production. One was that Kayn followed Yone’s guidance perfectly, and they worked in such a synergy that it was remarkable. And Aphelios could notice a man in love when he saw one, and Kayn was it. So clearly on his knees for Yone that it could be even cute. Yet still it was hard not to be entranced by how well the talented manager dealt with everything.
Who would’ve said that the man they only saw wearing suits could produce such a killing song?
Who would’ve said that such a horrible situation would’ve produced such absolute fucking bars ?
But what was standing out the most was that they were actually inside a studio, with Sheda Kayn, producing a song they wrote when they were teens, and Kayn was just absolutely amazing . He was Rhaast .
They had cameras filming them singing and playing, for the videos, and whenever Kayn is in the zone, he is enthralling. He doesn’t make mistakes, and whatever it is that he seems to be feeling oozes out in his aura like it could drench them to the bone.
Both he and Sett had to remind himself that they should hate him.
Yet they couldn’t. Sett was the first to admit and his wholeheartedness was contagious. Even when Sett was the angriest one, he is also too soft for his own good. And one day, when they were lying in the bed of the fancy guest room assigned to them, they were talking about something important.
It was Kayn who stole from them, both money and a dream, yes.
But it wasn’t Kayn who tossed him from his home and closed the front door on his face while he was left on the streets. It wasn’t Kayn who chose wrong again and again and had to be saved by his sister.
What was done could never be undone. If anything, they needed to let this go. It had to be different. They had to move on, and they were given a huge, groundbreaking opportunity. Kayn didn’t even have to. He could ruin their lives again .
Now it was finished. Now they will deal with the results, whether it was backlash, acclaim, or, most probably, both.
Only time would tell.
“Phel?” He heard behind himself, the voice that had always brought him back from nightmares, and looked back to see Sett. “Now that it’s done, we should go upstairs to grab our stuff to go back home.”
Aphelios needed another second or two to even come back to the present day, lost in musings as he was, where chronological order didn’t matter as much. In that present day, it was the beginning of a Friday night, they had posted a song and two scandalous videos for the entire world to see and they had to leave the studio and the house of someone they’d call a long-time friend and foe Kayn.
“Yeah. Yeah, sure. We have to go.” he shook his head to get over himself and turned to walk closer.
“You don’t have to rush like that. You can leave in the morning if you prefer.”
It was Kayn’s voice, not Rhaast’s, which was deeper, serious, and reverberated powerful for singing. Kayn’s voice was casual, singsong, bratty even when it wasn’t playful. Both turned to look at the owner of the studio and the house, into the mismatched eyes that always had been too deep for any of them to understand. Maybe only Ezreal could. He was walking towards them and stopped, his hands inside his pockets, and he continued.
“I know you don’t care for hearing that and you are free to tell me to stick it, but it was really good working with you guys again.”
The three of them were staring at each other at an arms’ reach, and in all senses finally a bit closer once more.
“I have to admit, I didn’t think it would work this well. I don’t know how we even managed to do it.”
“Yone. That’s how.” Kayn said deadpan, but he had a sketch of a smile on his lips.
“Yep. You have a fucking awesome manager with you.” Sett said, and elbowed Kayn as if he’s a teenager snickering at double meanings.
“He keeps you in line. I thought nobody would be able to do it.” Aphelios added, with a smirk, and they all let out a scoff.
The silence stretched for some more uncomfortble seconds and Kayn sighed.
“Thank you for this chance. I know I didn’t deserve it.”
“I guess that’s what he would’ve liked. Ez.” Aphelios answered in a hush. “Better than us pointing knives at each other’s backs.”
Sett was the one who sighed deeply.
“You know a day I always remember? It was late afternoon, cold, and pouring rain. You were sitting on the couch playing guitar when Ez came in absolutely drenched, completely soaked, as if he had jumped into a pool. Then he told us that, on the way, when the storm began,”
“He’d given his umbrella to an old lady who didn’t have one.” Kayn completed, and saying that sentence didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would.
Maybe it was exposure therapy after talking so much about Ezreal over and over for all those weeks.
Or he would break the fuck down as soon as they left and he was back to having nothing to do, no work to help Yone out with. Everything he did was to keep Ezreal’s memory and to be strong enough for Yone at least once in his life.
Maybe he just needed to finally cry his eyes out a little bit.
“Yeah. Ez was shivering cold, but he had that smile on his face.” Sett added, and then he was the one who sighed. “You know, Rhaast, you didn’t steal all of this from us.” He gestured around. “You built your empire yourself and we know what it takes. This experience made me see that I don’t know if I have or ever had what it takes.”
“Yeah. Me neither.” Aphelios shrugged.
“Well, you better start having it.” Kayn shrugged and winked. “People will be calling you left and right now that you have me as your featuring .”
They laughed weakly, and it felt as weird as it should, which wasn’t completely.
“G’night, Kayn.” Sett nodded, giving his back to pick his stuff up, followed closely by Aphelios and then Alune.
“Night, guys. Let’s keep in touch.” Kayn gave his back as well, but he didn’t head towards the exit. Instead, he was facing back the computer, or, more precisely, to Yone that was still sitting by it.
The door closed behind Alune and finally Yone and Kayn were by themselves again.
The manager had been sitting there the whole time.
“You did it.” Kayn said, walking closer.
“ You did it.” Yone answered back, smiling.
“Let’s not play this ping-pong now. We did it, then.”
Yone’s phone had started buzzing inside his pocket and he had only reached for it to turn it off. He had already ignored everything else that whole month before. Calls from office, from business partners, from his parents. He knew the risk he was taking, but he had to be one hundred percent on production right now. He knew the bets he was placing. He knew how high the stakes were, and he was all in now.
It all worked. The video was as good as it gets, the song was amazing. And everything was out there. They were betting that now the board wouldn’t accept his resignation, because now the mess is too big for anyone but Yone to deal with.
“I can’t believe it all went so well, even though I hoped for it.”
“I didn’t either. I think I just couldn’t be a burden for you again. I see the amount of pills you take everyday just to fall asleep.”
“It’s not-...” Yone started, but he really didn’t know where he intended to go.
He was really, really tired. Still he got up and stood in front of Kayn, their eyes meeting again as Yone cupped his face.
“How are you feeling?”
Kayn sighed, leaning into the touch.
“I don’t know. I will figure it out. The only thing I know is that now I’m free. Everyone knows everything. And I don’t think I know how to deal with freedom. But if I become a fucking demon to them, then be it. It’s Rhaast era. And he’ll watch it all burn, as far as you’re with him.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
That time, Kayn kissed Yone because it seemed to be the only think he knew by then.
That kiss was a mist, as November was a blur.
The end of that evening, as well.
Not many thoughts allowed themselves to settle in, at least not until the middle of the night.
Yone was sleeping on his bed, absolutely unconscious. Always that beautiful angel in repose, even when there wasn’t barely any light to see him, Kayn knew him with his eyes closed. So vulnerable and fragile, that man who managed to bring the trainwreck of his life back to the trails with sheer force.
And what is it taking him?
How can he save him, at the very least help him out of that mess?
Unlike Yone, Kayn didn’t take anything to sleep that night, and he hasn’t been smoking lately either. So he was wide awake, lost in the dark bedroom he also knew inch by inch.
The same bedroom where he had hidden a gun to kill himself. Harboring the same man that once had planned to watch him die and give him every weapon to do so, and that saved him in every possible sense.
He didn’t want the morning to come, not with everything it would.
He wanted to run away, but his nightmares would follow him, as they wore his skin.
Everyone knew the truth about him. About Heartsteel.
About Ezreal.
Kayn got up from the bed already. He didn’t look at any screens, not even to check the time. So he didn’t know what time it was when he wandered in the dark to try to find something inside his stuff. And as his hands found the hidden papers, his throat started to tighten.
With the papers in hand, he crossed the bedroom and silently opened the door of the balcony.
Stepping out to the chilly night, he didn’t have many things to hold onto. Below, the pool mirrored the dark sky, its still surface undisturbed by the stars the light pollution didn’t allow to shine. He leaned against the marble rail, every sound a feeble whisper in the emptiness. Wealth had gilded his life with gold and glitter, and he had given something for the world to entertain itself and more of everything everyone wanted, yet nothing it needed. His pain was probably trending, and it wasn’t tragic, nor fun either. It was just how things are.
In his hands, Ezreal’s letter, illuminated by the decorative outdoor lights of his mansion.
And finally, finally in all those weeks, Kayn was alone. And he was crying. Crying as much as it takes, as much as he could. His eyes and heart out.
In the end of the video he posted, he had shared tears with the public, and many truthful words. But all they had to know was how amazing Ezreal had been. Kayn made sure it wasn’t for everyone to pity his ass, a fucked up millionaire singer. Maybe they could forgive him, but still.
It wasn’t about him.
So, he began rereading the letter that had almost driven him to suicide. He knew how plausible it all seemed. Plausible, perhaps, even now. Because it was as if he could hear Ezreal’s voice forming the words. It was as if he were speaking right beside him, with a hand on his shoulder, just as he had done so many times before.
To Rhaast,
This letter might take some time to reach you. Maybe you didn’t understand my message in the note. Either way, I know I’ll be dead by the time you’re reading this. And if you receive this letter late, forgive me for making you think everything I had to say was crammed into that mediocre suicide note. But then again, it’s not like I owe you any kind of explanation. Not after what you did to me.
Still, despite how cruel you were, I couldn’t let everyone know what I know, nor could I let everyone read what I have to say to you.
You know, when I stop to think about our past, I realize I taught you some things. And among them, many wrong things. I was the one who taught you how a band works, how to orchestrate instruments, how to drive, even how to dance. But I also taught you how to do drugs, steal, charm people. You were always an exemplary student — of anything and everything. I taught you to smile while you lie, thinking it would help you get by in life, but I guess you learned all that a little too well.
It wasn’t just you who learned from me, though. The problem is that everything you ever taught me is now everything I can no longer hold onto, and it’s what hurts the most. You were the one who taught me how to truly dream. Your determination was the most beautiful thing to witness. You could have been completely wasted the night before, but you’d still be rehearsing the next morning. You could have taken a brutal beating on a Friday, but you’d be tearing up a stage with your voice and guitar on Saturday night. You gave our band its name, came up with our nicknames, and brought to life everything I had only ever wished for. That’s why it hurts so deeply. That’s why I know it’s irreversible. You taught me how to truly feel and showed me how to open my heart to everything in the world. And as soon as I did, you gutted my exposed heart. You nourished it, gave it life, and then ripped it away.
I’ll illustrate this with something Lux wrote once because, even though I’ve thought of the most well-crafted sentences of my life for this farewell letter, I’ll never be able to use words as well as she did. Here it is:
"The blurry gap between yearning for a reality and nurturing a utopia is the home of all true unrest in hope. It’s where the dream has not yet turned into fantasy; it’s where the realism of possibility transforms it into an idyllic wandering. Believing it to be real, I thought it attainable, and the infinitesimal chance of its realization turned my wandering into torment."
I used this because I think it’s an interesting way to summarize my musings. It encapsulates how I felt. For instance, I wish I had a superpower, like finding some ancient powerful gauntlet to make me a superhero. But I know the limitations of physics make that impossible, and those limitations spare me the anguish. I confine myself to imagination and find amusement in it. On the other hand, I also wished to be a rockstar, and in that, I thought I had everything I needed. I was nibbling at the edges, stepping in and out, living and dying for it. I didn’t realize that, yes, I could see my dream — it was right in front of me — but only because it was right in front of everyone, behind a glass showcase. I tried so hard that I shattered the glass, but all that did was leave me bleeding on the shards, not even a step closer to what I dreamed of. Now I understand it’s time to kill my dreams as well. After everything that happened, they’ve truly become fantasies. I should've been able to let this go and realize it wasn't for me. It's not your fault that I didn't.
So now that I’ve decided this, I realize that more than anyone else, I needed to reach out to you.
It’s strange to love someone. They can make you so angry you want to punch them; but the next moment, you realize you’d kill anyone who tried to harm them in the way you imagined. With me, it was almost like that. I always wanted to kill, with my own hands, the people who stripped you of your pride and dignity. A real desire — I even made plans. Because, God, I swear I’ll never understand; I’ll die without understanding how someone could do that to their only child. I think you were born to absolute psychopaths. She was supposed to protect you, to be your mother, but instead, he became your torturer, allowing soulless monsters to drain yours just to feed addictions.
So I knew you tried to bleed out the rot you felt inside through your wrists. So many times, you used your body as a tool, over and over, to prove to yourself that nothing they did to you mattered. But the truth is, you broke, and no one was there to say they believed in you. No one was there to hug and protect you as a mother should have done. I wanted to kill those people, but I couldn’t do that to you because I couldn’t risk being imprisoned and leaving you alone. I thought you couldn’t bear to have no one walking beside you, but, for the first of many times to follow, I was wrong.
After everything I learned about what happened to you, I promised myself I’d never use drugs again. I saw the irreversible scars they leave, and I didn’t want to become another addict who loses themselves so deeply they end up hurting the ones they love. Did I keep that promise? No. See how weak I am, how I’ve always been. By now, I’ve used every drug I know of, and I’m becoming exactly that: a disfigured heart with a rotting soul. I physically hurt Lux during a meth trip, and there’s no humanity left in someone as fucked up as I am. I don’t want to belong to this filth; I don’t want to keep walking this world anymore.
Ah, Lux. I haven’t told you about her.
You know, after you left, I met a girl. It wasn’t in Washington, but none of that matters. She was an English Literature student, with long blonde hair like an angel. But before you build any image of her, let me tell you how we met: she fainted during a rock performance at the dive bar where I managed to get a job. The reason? She hadn’t eaten in who knows how long because she had anorexia. That didn’t match the image anyone might have had of her because she hid her thinness with her clothes, and I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t helped her up and carried her in my arms. She didn’t want to be seen, didn’t want anyone’s attention; she was just sick, utterly broken, and needed help.
Sick, utterly broken, and needed help.
At that moment, I knew I would fall in love with her.
I think, when I realized that, everything that had happened stopped bleeding, because I understood that it was... kind of what I did, you know? All I knew how to do was serve as a bandage for someone else’s wounds. Not that I was good at that, because I am a mess myself just trying to make myself useful, but when it works, it’s all I really need. So much so that now, Lux is dating a decent guy, back in college, and has gained weight. And just that is enough for me. It’s so enough that I know what I need to say to you now:
Even after everything you did to me, I can’t hate you anymore. I never really hated you, to be honest. I know I harbored a monstrous anger, but now I don’t even have the strength for that. I think I’m just tired, and I had to save up to buy enough pills to ensure I wouldn’t survive. I don’t see it as deep sadness or tragedy anymore, and nobody should. It’s just the way it is, and the way everything has to end sometime. You were a better artist than I was, you have always been, so be it. It’s not for everyone. And I’m just too tired to do anything different. It’s not your fault, but — who else can I tell? — I’m finally dying. It’s a huge collection of mistakes I made on top of an already fucked up life and at most you were a catalyst. I was holding you back anyway.
I suppose that, if it wasn’t you, it would have been someone else. But it had to be a heart worth mending and a soul worth protecting. So, if it had to be this way, I’m certain that, within the limits of how tragic this is, you were the best that could have happened. You were a heart I wanted to love enough because I hear in your torn voice and the frantic strings of your guitar the reverberation of your soul, and that means so much — it’s a jewel among so much plastic. It’s good for the world that it got to see that in you, amidst so many false and purposeless stars, amidst so many porcelain angels. I hope you don’t turn into a poster. I hope you at least remember me and aren’t laughing out loud at my expense as you read this. But I don't think you would. You’re more than that.
The thing is, Rhaast, none of what happened in your childhood was your fault, but you never trusted anyone again — not me, not even yourself. You, whose cries were ignored by the people you loved most, turned your back to me — the one who would have died for you. I’m sure I was important in your life, but I wasn’t enough. There was a hole in your chest, and you filled it with allure, trading the sparkle in your eyes for the glow of spotlights. And who can blame you? It was the only light you could see.
Your determination and our dreams — from endless hours of technical rehearsals over sheet music to those times we sang Pentakill to the car steering wheel — those became your hope. A hope no one ever gave you. And because of that, music and fame stopped being a healthy ambition and turned into your most furious obsession. You would pursue it at any cost.
Even at the cost of a friendship.
You once said I was your family, and I took on that role as if I’d been born for it. I thought that if I stayed by your side, I could heal you. Again, I was wrong, I was just very stupid, a pretentious kid with a savior complex. We were too young. We’re still too young, and I forgive you. I forgive you, even knowing that if there’s still anything left of the boy I once knew, my forgiveness will be your deepest torment.
But understand this: You were a victim. You were little more than a child, and your innocence was ripped away and stolen. They made you endure threats and humiliations beyond imagining, and your only escape became your reason for living: music.
I give up because I am tired, and, despite everything, you’ve always been so much stronger than me. If this letter hurt you, I say: free yourself from the guilt and everything you did to me, forget it; your heart isn’t made of ice, your body isn’t an object. You deserve to be loved, to be cared for. Everyone else may have pretended not to see, but I believe in you, I always have — even after you abandoned me. I hope now you believe in yourself, too.
You have to let yourself be loved, Rhaast, because I know you deserve it.
I hope that one day someone touches your heart and that you allow them to. Maybe now, now that the world admires you, you’ll realize you’re worth so much more than you think, but something in my heart says you won’t. Something in my chest says your stardom is a mask. As I watch one of your fucking awesome shows and abstinence makes the pen tremble in my hands, I can only hope I’m wrong one last time and that you’ve finally found what you so desperately sought your whole life.
Goodbye, my old friend.
The Prodigal Explorer
Every time Kayn tried to breathe, the air came up damp with tears and caught in a sob. He clenched his teeth and dropped the papers to the floor, burying his hands in his face, struggling to find balance even when leaning on marble, feeling like he was suffocating as he tried to regain normal breathing.
“It makes you want to have faith, you know?” he whispered, still with his head bowed. He let out a choked sigh. “Because you desperately want to believe in something greater, to imagine there’s more beyond this. Because anyone who knew you doesn’t want to believe that someone like you could simply cease to exist. I had managed to build a friendship. I had someone who meant the world to me. And I didn’t think that was enough.”
Everything came tumbling down, everything he held back for the sake of someone else. Everything he endured so far because finally, finally, there was a reason. So he cried more, and held on firmly to the marble in front of him, because he would not falter. He wouldn’t disappoint.
He wouldn’t join Ezreal, no matter how much he wanted it now.
“I wish I had faith, just to believe you’re hearing me from somewhere. But what good is that to me now? What’s the point of torturing myself? If you can hear me, then you’ve already grown tired of seeing my tears at night. Far more than I ever let you see in life. Because if you knew how much I cried, you’d see that I’m just a child trying to look grown-up, trying to be strong. Or maybe you noticed that while you were with me, because you always saw more than anyone else, about everything. And just for that reason, maybe I can understand why you decided to end it all. Something must have convinced you that this was what you had to do — maybe the time you spent with Lux. I understand how you might have come to that conclusion, but I hate to tell you: It wasn’t. You should never have done this.”
He picked up the papers from the floor before the wind could carry them away.
“You should’ve fought just a little longer, and I would’ve carried you back in my arms. You could have had other dreams. If you hadn’t let yourself be taken over by drugs and decay, you could’ve found other dreams — many, far healthier than our one. Look at Phel and Sett, they went through hell too but they made it anyway! Why didn’t you have that determination? Why did you always let yourself come second, always?”
Before he knew it, he was almost yelling, but he knew that Yone wouldn’t be able to hear him when he was knocked out like that. Still, he let his voice fade again.
“But, after all, there was no way for you to know this would happen one day. I was late, I was a coward, and I am sorry. You gave up on hope. And… well, hope is always the last to die because after it’s gone, there’s nothing left to die. For me, I think it worked, because what you’ve caused me could never be a worse punishment. You left me here with the guilt, under the spotlight. And what I lost wasn’t the light in my own eyes, but the light in yours — the light the world doesn’t even know it lost, but I hope it kind of knows now. I gave up so much to be here; I interfered with the lives of so many people. And the price of my sacrifices is what I now have to pay. And that’s why I’ll accept my punishment and everything it brings, and I won’t give up.”
He looked at the papers in his hands, trembling in the wind. He shook his head.
“And if you can’t hear me, at least it means it’s over.” His voice broke on the last word. “Your pain is over, the frustration, the lies. It’s over in this stupid world that doesn’t even realize the flesh-and-blood angel it lost. An angel with black wings, made from the shadows of Seattle’s alleys. You can’t feel anymore. Only I can. It’s over.”
He gave his back to the sight from his balcony, and looked at the door to his room instead. The room where Yone was sleeping, unaware of anything else.
For a long time, that could be seven years or minutes, Kayn breathed in and out, trying to calm down the tears.
“If you want to know, yes, I've loved someone. I love him, and I can’t imagine a day when I won’t. And for him, I’ll make it work. Because he believes in me. And you also do. Both of you do, even if I don’t deserve it. So I’ll deserve it. I’ll face it. I’ll be different. For you. For him.” He wiped his tears and cleaned his face, ready to go back to his room, to not ever go for the easy way out again. “ For me .”
Notes:
We'll get to see more from the content from the video and all the aftermatch in the next chapters, there's still some story to show and build. Still, it's the end of a big part of it, and also the end of the year, so I opted for this different format and a way longer chapter. I hope you've enjoyed. I can't begin to express my gratitude for your support this year, it really makes all difference to have you here sharing this world with me. Thank you so much and I wish you all a wonderful new year. See you soon!
Chapter Text
After the first video of the compilation “Two sides to a story: An untold story of Shieda Kayn’s first band”, Neeko was already crying, as they both were sitting on their bed with only the light from Neeko’s laptop on in front of them. That was all Nidalee loved most in her girlfriend, because she was so sweet, loving and empathetic, but she really suffers way too much because of that. And for someone that had been so worried about Kayn lately, all that was a big blow to her fan heart, the images of Kayn so young sitting on the sidewalk after a presentation, with three other boys that seemed to have been his friends, revealing something that not even such a hardcore fan as they were had ever known. A part of his life where he was so young, reckless and yet full of dreams.
Then the video cut to Kayn, nowadays. It was pretty recently made, because Kayn’s hair was dark blue, as it’s been just for a couple of months now. He was sitting on an armchair inside a studio, a studio that had already been shown in previous artisanal videos from Kayn. It was probably his own.
He looked nervous, shaking his leg and cracking his knuckles.
So, a voice off camera broke the brief silence.
“So, Kayn. It looks like you were just coming out of a presentation. One of your firsts?”
Neeko recognized it. It was Yone’s. Kayn kept on looking right at the side of the camera, probably at him.
“Yeah, it was the first time we got some bigger attention, if we could say so. It looked like the people actually wanted to see us. We used to present mostly at a bar, and it was very hard that it was this crowded. I don’t want anyone getting in trouble for this, so I won’t say much about where it was. But… we got wasted on the corner and still were allowed to play there, so, take that what you will.”
“How old were you?”
“Fifteen, I guess.”
“Can you tell us more about the boys that were with you, and the girl off camera?”
“Yeah. The charismatic bigger guy allergic to sleeves is Sett, he played bass because his, uh, I’m gonna say best friend because it was that at the time, but they’ve been together as a couple ever since, taught him when they were younger. That’s the shy guy with the blue hair, Aphelios, and the girl filming is his twin, Alune, you all now know her as The Prophetess. He knew how to play the piano and the guitar, he was a great composer, too. The, the other guy, the smaller one with light green hair, was the drummer, Ezreal. They were my only friends, but Ezreal was… he was my best friend.”
The last sentence trembled a bit in Kayn’s voice and he swallowed hard.
It felt like Yone respected that moment for a short while, while Kayn breathed in and out, and nodded. So the next question came.
“So, Sett, Aphelios, Ezreal, you. Was it your first band?”
“Yeah. That’s Heartsteel. I played solo for some cash before that, and, uh… I did whatever it takes to just fend for myself. He was also by himself, but he was way more creative than I was about that. I had no clue how to get to where I wanted. Heartsteel was Ezreal’s idea all the way, he came to me with it already. Many of the lyrics, the symbols, like this one in my tattoo.” He lifted his hand and showed his forearm tattoo to the camera in a brief pause before continuing. “The three of them met at school, and kept meeting when Ezreal dropped high school, mostly at that bar I said. Then I presented there as well, and Ezreal came to talk to me after, already kind of recruiting me.”
“He was calling you Rhaast in the video, right? What is it about?”
“Yeah, we… I used a mask when we presented. I thought it was cool and mysterious, but most of all… I wanted fame, still I didn’t want to be recognized either. I was dead scared of having to come back home if anyone finds out about me, as a minor, roaming around the fucking country. So… Rhaast was my alias. We all had one. It was also, like, Ez was trans, and he wasn’t ashamed of that at all, but we all wanted to just normalize being named whatever the fuck we want, you know. All of us had one name, but it was mostly Ez and I that used it. He was also The Prodigal Explorer, the one from the song I didn’t manage to finish. It all reminded me too much of him.”
“Sett and Aphelios posted their version to the story, so we’ll know about them. Do you want to talk about what happened to Ezreal?”
The answer was short, straight, and brutal.
“Ezreal committed suicide. I had abandoned and betrayed him and my other friends to be where I am now, and he… didn’t recover from it, and also from many other fucked up things that happened in his life. I want people to know about Heartsteel, about the only friends I had, and about him, who can't tell the story with us right now."
***
When Zed finished watching the whole video posted on Kayn’s channel, he laughed.
Not because it was funny, not at all. If he were to be honest, he truly felt like crying many times through it, because he still has the softest spot for Kayn and he can’t deny it.
There were so many scenes that he knew would be everywhere the next day. Where Kayn was sprawled on a worn-out couch, shirtless and wearing torn jeans, clutching a bottle of the cheapest vodka. His body was covered in obscene drawings made with black lipstick, and Aphelios was finishing a doodle of a penis on Kayn’s stomach. There was this video of them walking around town and both Kayn and Ezreal were wearing wristbands, the drummer wearing a white T-shirt with “Mordekaiser" written on it in Kayn’s handwriting, and a bad drawing of his helmet below, and we got to learn that it was Ezreal’s birthday and Kayn’s gift. There was also the video of a night when the four of them were in a cheap motel room in Albany. Aphelios was awake, sitting on a two-seater couch staring at his phone, and Sett behind the camera talked to them about the concert next day. In the background, Ezreal and Kayn were asleep sharing a single bed, the type of intimacy that would certainly raise many, many questions.
So many scenes of a lost adolescence. In between them, Kayn told everyone secrets about him and Heartsteel he had such a hard time to tell even him when he was his agent. About the failed audition and his decision to abandon them and take what he thought was rightful for him at the time, since they were getting money off of his voice and his hard work, and how it was the most haunting decision of his life. He didn’t reveal whatever it was that happened in his childhood, but he wasn’t vague anymore in avoiding the subject, telling instead that he was running away from horrors that made him want to die and slit his wrists. He didn’t say anything about the sexual deals Zed knew he made along the way, but was very clear about his sexuality and how he went out, and goes out, with both girls and boys and whatever else there is.
The last video from the compilation, testimony, documentary, whatever that monumental thing could be called, was of a rehearsal in Seattle, filmed by Alune. The setting was an abandoned pavilion, and Ezreal had jumped on Kayn’s back, and Kayn was laughing uncontrollably. The Prodigal Explorer held both drumsticks in one hand, raising them high, while his other arm clung to Kayn’s neck. He was shouting “HEARTSTEEL!” at the top of his lungs, echoing through that filthy garage with a metallic reverberation.
Then, it changed one last time.
“How do you feel now, having it all disclosed to the public?” A faceless voice, but one that Zed knew to be Yone’s, made the question off camera.
In the frame, sitting on the same chair he had been sitting on to give his testimony, Kayn looked away and swallowed hard. He fidgeted, cracking and holding his own fingers anxiously, his leg shaking. Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and looked back; almost at the camera, but not quite. He was looking at Yone instead. Like a shipwrecked man looks at an island.
“Free.” He finally answered. “ It doesn’t mean that I am happy about it, or that I am not scared. Quite the opposite. But being free doesn’t always feel good. Yet that’s the price. Everyone knows about Ezreal, now, too. About how he was lovely, reckless, dreamy, a dumbass and just the best person around. About the artist he could be, and the artist he couldn’t. About the man he really was, and about what it costed him. About how I sold my soul and lost the people that cared about me, that I abandoned someone I loved deeply and that loved me back. Now I don’t have to pretend anymore. I don’t have to constantly act like a dick just so that people believe I am a dick and I feel vindicated somehow. Now they know I’m a dick already. I can just, just… get better. And actually stop being a dick for once. Break this fucking cycle.” He sighed once again, and then finally looked straight at the camera, repeating it one last time. “I’m free .”
And it was over.
An upbeat song starts, with the three remaining members of Heartsteel singing together again a song that was written with Ezreal. About being chased while famous, about a deep and dark past, about the shadows that creep around and try to bring down the ones from the top.
He had to laugh, come on.
That was brilliant.
That had been the best, bravest solution that could ever be found for such a situation. And not only Kayn had to be absolutely focused and tremendously courageous now, but also Yone . Yone had to be smart, hardworking and cold-blooded to the highest levels to be able to pull that one off. He was giving a middle finger to the entire record company, while simultaneously bringing Kayn to the absolute spotlight, making him accountable enough for him to feel purged, and still cleaning up his act like nothing else could ever do. It wasn’t a lame apology video, it was the greatest game-changer he could think of for Kayn. And the fact that he not only managed to do it, produce the video and the song, convince Sett, Aphelios, his angered twin with a massive following, and also he got Kayn wholeheartedly into it? It was gigantic.
He would have to admit that he was wrong about Yone. Even if he manipulated everyone into this, it was still remarkable. And it still proved him an amazing manager and producer.
When he found out the information on The Prophetess and their relationship with Evelynn and shared it in a way that could reach Yone, he could only hope that they could solve it before it bursts. And he never imagined that arrogant prick would do it in such a masterful way.
He also knew that K’Sante will be shaking in his big boy boots, because he knew now that Yone had Kayn wrapped around his finger and if he says the word, Kayn does whatever he wants, including leaving the record company and leaving him in massive debt. Evelynn also found herself crossed by people she was trying to profit from, and outsmarted in her own game.
The fight that he just picked was no small thing. He was crazy, but he had balls.
Sighing, he picked up his phone. The number that Irelia had given him, and he hesitated a little bit before sending a message.
[Zed]: You did a good job, Yone. Take care of yourself now, and take care of Kayn, will you?
He didn’t expect Yone to even see it, let alone answer it. He will be surely be flooded with texts and calls from everywhere now, and he surely won’t know peace for the next weeks.
Even more because Kayn’s court hearing from his drunk driving case was scheduled for next week, the last one before winter recess.
That was also a smart move. If Kayn’s to be the biggest worldwide trend at the moment, let it be for everything at once, and soon they can all move on if they can take this end of the year.
***
The bathroom seemed to be throbbing, as Yone’s perception felt foggy.
It was only seven in the morning, and about a week since the release of the video and the song. Time was passing too fast, yet, it was too much.
Now that the name “Rhaast” and “Heartsteel” were out to the public, many other videos that had been posted on many social media have surfaced, things that they had posted before while trying to be famous as a band. Some of them went from hundreds of views to hundreds of thousands in a few hours.
The song PARANOIA was number one on the biggest charts the first week, and nobody at the record company was happy that they found a loophole in the contracts to just give away its money like that. Nobody except for the marketing team, maybe, because there was hardly a doubt that Kayn’s image got a glow up with that, even when a part of it all was to admit he did something bad. They had to deal with every right-wing investor that didn’t want to be related to not only a bisexual singer, but an entirely LGBT group, but the way it was all handled ensured them a complete shift to pocketing pink money, as Yone had been quick to sell it very well to everyone. Even the ones who bought it were kind of concerned about Yone’s ability to just turn everything around at his whim, but they had to admit it was the greatest PR stunt of the year.
Yone wasn’t running away from any backlash, instead facing everything he threw in the world now.
Yet it was hard to face the mirror, as he did now inside Kayn’s bathroom, while his head felt as if it’s full of a dense liquid. Not for the first time he wondered if he was going to make it to the end of the day, but he wasn’t allowed to falter.
That was an important morning. He had to be well.
His fingers wandered to his make-up kit on top of the marble sink and the sensation started creeping in. The tightness in his throat, the racing heart. He was able to apply foundation, but his hands started shaking by the concealer.
He had to be well. That wasn’t a choice.
He popped a pill out of the blister pack, watching it rip through the foil and feeling it drop into his palm, his hand then to his mouth. Another one for the nausea soon would be needed.
You’re not well, Yone., the lurking thought crawled out of its hiding spot before he could try to hold it back. He shook his head and gave his back. A bathroom is never the place if you don’t want to freak out, and he had to get dressed.
What was fucked up was that at the very least with Irelia things went better. He had been a dick to his best assistant, too, and at that point he was even wondering if a betrayal was really that serious and he couldn’t call for her again.
Maybe another assistant would help, if they don’t start sabotaging each other for attention.
That’s for working in a pit of wolves.
I’m so, so tired.
“Yone?”
Brought back to the real world, he realized he was inside Kayn’s bedroom and that the singer must’ve been talking to him.
“Sorry, what was it?”
“I said that you don’t have to go with me to the hearing. You’re on vacation.”
“No, no.” He shook his head, back to focusing on getting dressed. “I need to be there.”
The image of Yone refocusing again after just getting lost in the clothes he had to wear was concerning, but so has it been so far lately. Yone was very, very stressed, and it’s been a while that he’s also been very, very high all the time. He took care of everything all the time, and he didn’t allow himself to be taken care of.
“What you need is rest, you know that.”
“We will rest once this is over. It’s almost over. Christmas is around the corner and we have plans for New Year, right?”
He didn’t want Yone to be alone in that situation, maybe driving or something stupid like that. So he asked him to stay with him in his house, and for the first time ever since they met, it was for Yone, and not for him.
I’m the one who broke him to begin with , Kayn thought, swallowing hard not to let the feeling settle in.
He couldn’t afford to freak out now.
He was going to the public for the first time since the release of the song, and it was already for his court hearing.
“You know, there’s a nice ass rehab clinic in Switzerland, we could change our New Year’s plan to that. I could very well take a tolerance break on weed, too, and all the other shit I take in rounds. We cuddle watching the Alps high as fuck on flumazenil.”
Yone walked towards Kayn and cupped his face, pressing his lips to the singer’s. His fingers felt cold and Kayn swallowed hard.
“Let’s not have this conversation now, ok?” He tried to stare into Kayn’s eyes, but it was somewhat hard now, and he walked out of their closeness to look for his blazer. “Now you just focus on your speech because LeBlanc will take care of everything.”
There were many things he needed to say to Yone.
I know your lawyer is good, but if I end up in jail, don’t worry, I’ll be okay. I’ll serve my time.
You should actually go through your resignment and not be my manager anymore. You’re too overworked, I’ll work well with someone else.
What do you think of quitting it all and being the DJ at my shows?
Let’s run away together like we talked about some time ago. Spend all my money in some island in the Pacific Ocean.
He didn’t get to say anything like that, because soon enough Yone was already with his phone on his ear and next thing they were on the back seat of one of his cars, going to the hearing. They picked LeBlanc up on the way, and now Yone would only talk to her, and Kayn would listen to her orientations carefully as well. There was only silence again between them when the noise was too loud on the outside, from journalists and fans waiting by the courthouse. They got out of the car already under a burst of flashes and pointed cameras and phones.
At that, Yone lowered his eyes, his step faltering a little bit because he looked dizzy, and Kayn’s first reaction was reaching for his hand.
“It’s okay.”, he said gently, and, in Kayn’s eyes, only the relentless courage of Yone made hm say that. He didn’t push his hand back, and smiled at him. So of course Kayn would smile back.
And they kept holding hands all the way to inside the building.
During the hearing, as guided by LeBlanc, Kayn pleaded guilty to a lesser charge of driving while impaired. He was sentenced to 60 hours of community service, which must be completed within one year in a community program of his choice. The judge also ordered him, as a public figure, to issue a public safety announcement, which he’ll make in a following press conference and on his social media. He will also pay a fine of $1000 and have his driver’s license suspended in California State for 180 days.
It was a long, yet relieving hearing.
So it was lunchtime when Kayn was in front of a lectern with a dozen microphones from every major news channel set, before several people and the press after his court hearing.
“It’s been a crazy year for me. You all must have an idea by now. But you know what? Many people had crazy years with a whole lot more problems than I did and didn’t go out being a menace to innocent people. I’ve said before, I hate apologies because I’ve always felt like they shift the blame. But nowadays I don’t think it was the reason. I hated apologies because I didn’t feel like I wouldn’t make the same mistake again. I didn’t want to lie. But this? I can’t ever, ever do something like this again. I can’t risk making people pay for my problems and traumas and self-destruction. I don’t want to be this person anymore. And I mean this by everything. I can’t promise I won’t make mistakes again, but some things are deliberate, and these aren’t forgivable and right now, before everyone, I make the decision to stop it. Driving while intoxicated is the most avoidable decision that could have just the biggest disastrous results. Don’t ever, ever do this, for any reason whatsoever. Maybe you’re overly confident, maybe you think you’re fine, maybe you don’t think it’s important if you crash and die. But in all of these, you’re wrong. So don’t ever do it.”
Kayn took a moment to drink from the water bottle he had in front of him, sighing in hiccups. He didn’t seem as nervous as he felt, and his eyes found Yone in the front row as they always do. And Yone is always there.
“As for me, I’m holding myself fully accountable. I thank and appreciate all the support I’ve been receiving, but for those doing so, please, don’t be tempted to defend or excuse any of my actions whatsoever. I’m sorry for everyone I endangered that night. I’m sorry for everyone who supported me throughout this year only for me to keep disappointing and offending. I’ve started treatment earlier this year but I didn't put myself through it the way I should. Now I’m fully invested in a thorough one. I’ve never promised I’d work to be a different person before because I couldn’t commit to it. But I make this promise now. If my music ever meant something to you, I'll stop disappointing you. You’ll have a different Kayn from now on. I owe this to you.”
The last sentence wasn’t a plural ‘you’. It was you, Yone, and he said that to him, staring at him, right at his jade eyes.
“I’ll be answering your questions now.” He then said, and waited as they organized the journalists. And it wasn’t by accident that the first woman that stepped to make the questions was a dark-haired lady in red wearing reflective glasses that Kayn knew by then.
“Hey. Vayne, right?” Kayn grinned at her.
Vayne froze in place, fearing that he would say something that might look compromising, or that would imply she was set up to be there by Kayn. Which wasn’t the case, but she also wasn’t there to slander him. It felt like her boss changed her mind, and so did both her and Diana after his version of the documentary. She really had some questions she wouldn’t want to slander anymore.
It all depended on Kayn and how he decided to answer.
“Yes, sir. Uhm, so… in what way is this announcement related to the release of the video and the song last week?”
“A lot, actually.” Kayn let out one muted laugh, and then pressed his lips to a line because he knew it wasn’t appropriate. “But probably not for the reasons people may think. Maybe you think that I was put against the wall for things I did and that I’m afraid of how it will go for my image. But you all know that this was a choice of mine. I wanted it all to be out and it was not a public apology, but a way to truly make myself accountable. I’m ashamed of the things I did, not of you all getting to know them. If anything, I really feel like I can finally stop lying because I don’t have anything to hide anymore. You all saw me vulnerable, coward, pathetic. So I’m getting what I deserve and that’s all there’s to it. So, yeah. It wasn’t my idea to begin with. The documentary is from The Prophetess, the video was-... well. It wasn’t my idea, but it was, in the end, what I wanted. I had people cleaning up my dirty diapers for way too long now, I’m not a teen anymore. So, I had to execute it. The video and the song, as well as this announcement, are related because they come from a place of owning up for my shit. That’s all there is.”
“You said that you will stick to these promises because you didn’t feel like you would earlier. Can you tell us what changed so deeply that inspired all this change that makes you want to commit now?”
“Love.”, he answered right away. Yone widened his eyes, as the answer was not what he expected, but he just kept watching.
Kayn didn’t add anything, so the journalist got to ask again.
“Do you mean you are in a relationship now? Can you elaborate more?”
“There’s nothing to elaborate. Love changes us. It doesn’t even have to be romantic, but for someone as hurt as I am, love either stitches the wounds or sticks nails in it. There’s no middle ground when you feel this deeply. And I didn’t want my love to be the reason someone bleeds out.”
Another journalist took her place, now a blond man, and Kayn many times had to rest his sight on Yone to keep his cool. They came over and over for over tens of questions and asked about everything, from his love life to upcoming albums and shows and the prospects for the awards next year, if he thought he was going to be nominated. All vague answers around the meanings of “maybe” and “working on it” until Kayn was exhausted, and they finished the interview, finally leaving the courthouse.
LeBlanc was left back at her office and the two of them were alone in the back of the car again, Yone reached out to caress Kayn’s nape.
Everything was out. And also the pictures of them holding hands while going to the hearing together.
“You were amazing, Kayn.”
Kayn leaned into the touch, his cheeky, bratty tone taking shape in the answer.
“I love getting praise from daddy, you know that.”
Saying that, he leaned on the seat and laid on it, his head on Yone’s thigh. He feels thinner than he used to be, and he looks that way, too. It’s also been a long while since he felt that body inside his arms to properly tell, but that wasn’t the matter now.
Yone scoffed and started caressing Kayn’s blue hair, distracting himself with the soft texture on his fingers.
“You have been a good boy.”
Kayn grimaced. The way it was said was so far from how it was supposed to be that it was glaring. Yone knew very well how to say it in a very sexy dominating way, and now it sounded like he was a bad actor reciting a line.
“This was the most half-hard attempt of wooing me you have ever done. I won’t continue being a good boy unless you at the very least eat properly today. I don’t want fainting daddies who won’t even be able to spank me properly.”
Months ago, an irascible Kayn was lying on the backseat like that and they were going to an interview. It was the first time Kayn didn't feel as aggressive. They talked about something related to Dorian Grey, but his memory wasn’t the best right now. So much had happened it felt like a lifetime ago.
He knew he had to allow himself to rest, indeed, but what if he does and everything falls apart? He can’t afford to be taken care of when there was so much to be dealt with.
What if he tries to rest and he realizes he can’t, and he has to admit he has a problem, a big one, that he just can’t face right now?
Maybe Switzerland wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
Chapter Text
It was only the 23th of December only when Yone truly started his holiday and took his days off.
Their plans for Christmas was that they’ll spend it at Yone’s house so they can give Kayn’s employees some days off, along with their Christmas bonuses and gifts. For the ones that had to be there (e.g. security and entrance control) he lend the party area for them to commemorate with friends and family, with food and drinks available for them to prepare together. The fact that the idea came from Yone of all people was surely just because it was some sort of internal marketing idea to keep employee trust and loyalty. Also, the kind of caricatural consciousness re-emerging on Kayn about that surely felt obnoxious, but he was going with it anyway.
As for them, they’ll prepare their eve dinner and the Christmas grand breakfast themselves. Kayn wondered when it was the last time that he even stepped on a kitchen, but Yone assured him he was able to cook because, yeah, of course he could . He’s Yone, he has to know pretty much everything in this whole wide world. What was funny to Kayn was that he said he knew how to make a Lobster Tortellini and Butternut Squash Gnocchi before mentioning he could do as much as fry an egg.
So, they were in Christmas preparation, if one could say so. When you have someone to buy you everything you need, including people’s gifts, pre-prepare the ingredients and there was even a sommelier to choose you a wine to go with it, it’s not exactly like going Christmas shopping. But there was something Kayn needed to do in person, so, that day was the first day after the hearing that Kayn went out alone; again, if one could say so, since he had a security guard with him. But truly the meaning of going out alone now meant without Yone, as they have been attached by the hip lately.
He had gone to a jewelry store in Beverly Hills, getting lost among shiny rocks waiting for them to tell him something. According to the lady selling them, rubies were a fiery stone the gems of royalty, nobility and passion, but red was Yone’s color anyway, so the choice on that blood-colored gem should be obvious. A sleek, bold design with curved lines was also better than any traditional one.
Purchase made, it still felt weird. Maybe even wrong. Maybe he wasn’t in his right mind to do that.
Back in his car, Kayn was looking at the box that held his acquisition, caressing the soft burgundy velvet, and he wished he had a friend he could call for advice.
That thought accompanied him all the way back to his estate, while in one pocket of his baggy pants he had the small box, and in the other he held tight his phone. Aimlessly he walked around, as if a literal place in his mansion could help him finding an answer, and curiously, lost in thoughts, he found himself in his library.
The last time he has been there, he freaked out and hurt Yone many times after having done cocaine. Maybe it has been good that even cocaine made him paranoid and aggressive enough to not feel like the best thing in the entire world, and to make him not use it for hours or days in a row. If he loved it even with the damage it did, maybe he couldn’t have quit it as easily as he did if his brain wasn’t fucked up enough. It could even be ironic.
There was someone else who he connected to that place, though. Someone who frequently used that place as his office.
So he picked up his phone and called him, feeling a bit anxious as it rang.
“Shieda?”
“Hey, Zed.”
“What a surprise.” His former manager’s voice actually sounded curious, and even a bit concerned. “Is everything okay? How are you?”
The singer threw his body on a couch, leaning his sneakers on a coffee table.
“I’m actually doing fine. That’s even weird to say. You know that with me, it’s either all or nothing. But I’m really just fine. Good feelings balancing out heavy ones, proper medication to keep me from being high all the time.”
“That’s amazing to hear. It’s the process. You’ve been through a lot and that is a great outcome.”
“Yeah, I guess. You?”
“I’m back on track. Actually got into Seraphine’s team, if you believe it.”
“Seriously?” He laughed, but it really wasn’t scornful. It was more out of surprise. “Damn, who’d say you’d go from me to the cutest cutie pie in the charts now.”
“Yeah, I’m not directly her manager or anything, but not having to work with K’Sante anymore just to make ends meet is something I’m grateful for. Even if it was to finish my job with you.”
“You did great, way more than you even should at the time, so I’m very grateful. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know, ‘kay? Maybe we hook up a collab. I've always wanted to make a metal version of ‘Childhood Dreams’, too.”
Kayn heard the endeared chuckle Zed let out, and his sigh before continuing.
“You really came around, didn’t you, boy?”
Kayn was the one who sighed now, before answering.
“I hope. But I called you because I need to ask you something. I know you’re not the best person to talk about relationships because you ruined yours, but you’re the only person I can ask this.”
“You’re always a joy, Shieda. I can see the Christmas spirit lighting up your soul.”
Kayn laughed, and so did Zed.
“You know I'm just messing with you. These things happen. I just wanted to ask you… is it romantic or egoistical to propose to someone on Christmas morning?”
It caught Zed really off guard.
“Propose ?”
Kayn sighed once more and took the small velvet box from his pocket.
“I know you don’t like him, so I’m not asking for your blessing or opinion on this.”
“I think he’s good for you.”
Kayn cocked his brows.
“Now I’m the one shocked.”
“I think he’s definitely not the best man around, but in spite of that, or because of that, it’s obvious that you two work. He’s grounded you, and you two can do great things together. But don’t you think this is rushing things a bit?”
“I guess. I just really wanted to show him how committed I am to this.”
“There are other ways you could do it.”
“I wanted to do it while we travel, but… I don’t know. I heard Christmas is a romantic holiday in Japan, so I wanted to take him somewhere as a surprise. Maybe it would feel right to him.”
“Well, if you’re asking me… personally I don’t think it’s the best idea to propose when you're this young to begin with, but it’s a bit worse on Christmas day because you make a special day all about yourself. If your relationship goes wrong some day, it will forever be linked to heartache somehow for both of you, and you can’t ignore it when you’re looking at Christmas lights everywhere.”
Kayn pouted and opened the box with his thumb to look at the ring he’s bought.
“Same thing about public proposals, right? Not romantic, just self-absorbed.”
“In your case, it’s worse. Making it a subject for millions of people to be talking about and having to say either yes or no for all of them is quite some pressure.”
“Yeah, this one I kinda felt was off, too. I was just wondering.”
“But also, Shieda… You know, just trust your guts. Many times all I’ve done is try to keep you from following your heart because it felt reckless. But with you, it doesn’t work, you’re not supposed to be like that. I can be wary of his feelings all I want, but if Yone is with you, he already knows that you can’t just play safe. This is the bet to make if someone wants to enjoy everything else that’s awesome about you. You’re not a regular Joe, you’ve never been, and you won’t ever be. If Yone loves you, he loves it, too. Whatever it is that you felt like you should do, just go for it. Give all of yourself for it to not go wrong, learn, be a good partner. But just… just live for once. Do it your own way.”
A moment of silence, and Kayn’s eyes were locked in the red and silver shine of the luxury ring he’s bought, as he drew a small smile.
“Thanks, Zed. You’re the man.”
Zed chuckled again.
“Thank you for still trusting me like that after all. Good luck with everything.”
“An early Merry Christmas to you.”
“Merry Christmas to you, too. Take care, will you?”
They hung up, and Kayn hid the box somewhere because probably soon Yone would be there to meet him. He shouldn’t see it for now. It was only the 23th now. Which didn’t mean that he wouldn’t want to keep the romantic aura, setting the mood for those days that were supposed to be only about the two of them again.
It was definitely common for Yone to be told that Kayn was inside his bedroom, and it was as common either to find him with the lights off. There would many times be weed smoke and something playing as well sometimes. So Yone wasn’t expecting anything at all when he walked in to meet him, not even to realize that it was weird that the music playing was a soft jazzy tune. He was just wondering what they could have for dinner, lost in his thoughts and his thoughts lost in everything else until the sight brought him immediately to that moment.
And in that moment, the bedroom was lit only by the flickering lights of many small fake candles in glass bulbs, constellating the entire place. There were rose petals all around, and a food cart with man a chilled bottle of champagne ready inside an ice bucket, accompanied by crystal flutes and a small chocolate fountain surrounded by berries and other fruits such as grapes and chopped apples and bananas. The food cart was beside the jacuzzi, which was full and lit in orange colors, bubbling while whirlpools formed and dissolved, spinning more rose petals and helping emanate the faint scent of sandalwood and vanilla from the bath salt.
Kayn was sitting on his bed, wearing only a black robe, and he stood up as the other arrived and entered the bedroom.
“Wow.” Yone stopped on his tracks, looking around again as if it’s hard to even grasp.
Hands on the pockets of his robe and shrugging, Kayn stepped closer.
“Please just give me a review. I felt absolutely silly doing this shit, you know?”
Yone smiled, taking his jacket off and walking closer to leave it on the bed.
“It’s romantic. You’re doing it right. I loved it.”
“Would it still be romantic if I had wrapped a red bow around my now half-hard cock as an early Christmas gift?”
Yone snorted at the mere imagination of it.
“Definitely not, but I would laugh a lot.”
Kayn opened his robe, and expecting it didn’t make it any less funny. Kayn had done it, and, true to his word, Yone simply cracked up at the sight, enough for having to sit on the bed.
That was what Kayn was hoping for, because anything that releases the tension of Yone’s shoulders now was what he would go for. He wasn’t done making him laugh.
“I was very unsure about it, you know? I thought that you, being a millenial, would enjoy better if I had my dick in a box. How do you feel about this reference? Would’ve been better? I have time until Christmas to level up my game.”
“I fucking hate you.”, Yone said softly in the middle of laughing. Holding onto the smile, he walked to him until they are inches from each other. They lips met and they kissed, softly at first, but then Kayn sucked on his lower lip and bit it gently, feeling Yone’s hands wander under his robe. As their mouths broke the kiss, Yone hushed.
“Should I unwrap my gift?”, his hand was low enough to touch the bow.
“I would thank you, because this is really uncomfortable.”
Chuckling and kissing him again, Yone’s fingers didn’t seem as agile as they’ve always been, but he’s still skilled at doing it. Kayn groaned low at the sensation of relief, of having the bow unwrapped and falling to the floor and replaced by Yone’s fingers, however cold they felt.
Yone would never not feel amazing to him.
“Let’s have a bath, shall we?” Kayn said against Yone’s lips as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “I want to give you a massage.”
After finishing opening the piece of clothing, he gestured for Yone to get into the bathtub, while he himself did it, then lowered himself to sit in it, immersing himself in the hot water with a sigh of pleasure. Kayn stretched his arms along the edge of the tub and waited, staring at the beautiful sight of Yone slowly undressing his own pants. Even though the image allowed Kayn to feel the heat beyond what was caused by the hot water, it didn’t really seem that Yone was in the same mood. Not that he truly looked uncomfortable in any sense at all, just distracted all the time. While he joined him in the bathtub, Kayn reached out to pour some champagne, offering one of the flutes to Yone.
Yone took a sip and then pouted, curious, while Kayn was picking up the bath oils.
“No alcohol?”
Indeed the beverage Kayn chose, however luxurious, wasn’t a proper champagne, as it was alcohol-free.
“I didn’t know how clean you would be today, so I already guessed we probably shouldn’t drink.”
Yone sighed, leaving the flute aside. Considering that he really isn’t clean, it was indeed probably for the better. The realization that he had to be looked up close by Kayn like that brought an uneasiness in his skin, and he looked at the other wall as Kayn started pressing kisses to his cheek, neck and shoulders.
“I didn’t get ready or anything, but I can suck you off or you can do it between my thighs if you want.”
Kayn frowned. The way it was said sounded icky, so he slid on the bathtub to be able to look right at his face.
“It’s not if I want to do anything. We don’t have to have sex if you’re not in the mood. I just want us to have some intimate time together, if that’s okay.”
Yone noticed he had used all the wrong words and decided to use his lips in a more eloquent manner, which was kissing Kayn again. He slipped to his lap and straddled him, letting his hands sink in his hair and his mouth part for their tongues to touch, deeply and passionately.
“I do want you.” He whispered beside his ear, kissing his jaw. “I always want you.”
Touching Kayn felt amazing, felt right. He wanted to do it, at least consciously. His fingers sliding on his back and feeling him hard under his body made him moan low and roll his eyes, made him tell Kayn to wait just for a bit while he gets all cleaned up and ready to be fucked. It wasn’t a lie, though, that the libido necessary for him to be completely into that really wasn’t there.
Kayn was breathing deeply and he felt himself hard under his manager’s body, but the hips rubbing against his belly were making it clear that it wasn’t the same for Yone. He just wasn’t getting hard and an uncomfortable sensation was taking over Kayn’s body until he was limp as well.
He broke another of their kisses and hugged Yone instead.
“Sorry, babe… I, I can’t do it.” He sighed. “I know it doesn’t mean that you don’t want it, but it feels wrong to do it.”
“Don’t pressure yourself.” Yone swallowed hard. “Sorry about that, please don’t think that I don’t want you or-”
“Don’t, please. It’s okay, I told you we didn’t have to do anything. But you have to get yourself checked and you know that. I definitely don’t mind you not getting it up, if you start taking Viagra too you’ll have a fucking heart attack. What I do mind is that you’re affected to this point by meds.”
Yone swallowed hard and slid out of Kayn’s lap, but still sat in between his legs, trying his best to keep looking into his eyes.
“Yeah, I… I’ll get treated.” He couldn’t help looking away. “It’s just… it’s been bad.”
Kayn caressed Yone’s hair, even the dark roots that could seem cool at a certain point just felt like another ominous sign.
“How bad?”
“You know how hard it is for me to sleep. And it feels like I’m always on the verge of a bad anxiety or panic attack whenever I’m fully sober. It’s… it’s very fucking scary.”
Kayn swallowed hard. He would imagine that it was getting that bad, but hearing him admit it was another thing entirely. And Yone also immediately hated having confessed.
“What about Christmas in Switzerland instead?” Kayn said, and the implication that they should hurry to a rehab clinic brought such anxiety to him that would even be ironic if he could laugh at that.
“No, I-... It’s not like that, I just-...”
“Yone. You need help. I’m not the best one for that, but we can find it together.”
Yone felt his throat tighten, and he closed his eyes.
Breathe in short, hold it longer, breathe out even longer.
“Yeah. Okay.” He really didn’t want to talk about that. The sensation that he had to break out of his situation was exactly the kind of sensation that he was avoiding. “After Christmas, I’ll go. Alright?”
Kayn cupped his face and smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“Let’s do this. You’ll be back on track sooner than you think, and I won’t be dragging you behind anymore. We walk forward in this, together.”
Yone closed his eyes, frowning and swallowing hard. Kayn was comprehensible and sweet, what started feeling fake to Yone. He was the one going through so much and was now offering him so much support. Yone was the one who took on too much and played the part of such a strong warrior than he could take to be. That was just a horrible feeling settling in, a weird kind of anxiety, but the worst one came from knowing that he had ruined the mood completely and he couldn’t do anything about it. He wanted to remind himself that it was alright, that he could be allowed to falter because he was human, after all. That Kayn wasn’t judging him, that he was just concerned.
But the sensation he had was of failure. Of being a fucked up, doped, impotent, muddled failure.
He hated it that he had to bring on his negotiation mind back even to Kayn now, that part of him that knows how to keep a conversation no matter how tired or bored he felt. But just so that they wouldn’t sink in the worst silence possible. They just ate dinner, brushed off the rose petals from the bed and went to sleep. Obviously, he could only do it after some more medicine, what felt even worse.
***
Once the cleaner left his house, it seemed like the sound of the lock echoed through the living room. Being alone and having nothing to do surely felt less like a relief and more like being thrown into an unsettling void. Yone paced around the living room trying to choose what to do next as his mind swirled with unresolved tasks, imaginary deadlines, and a haunting sense of “what am I forgetting?”
He had asked Kayn to come later in the afternoon, because he felt like he needed some time alone to organize his thoughts and to prepare what he needed, but it had been a bad idea. So he checked twice the food in the fridge, and then whatever they could need for the night, from music to listen to to lube, and he checked the food a third time. He checked for Kayn's gift many, many times, if everything was alright, but everything was set on his guest room. Quiet is deafening, so he puts some music on. Calm didn’t feel enough, energetic was too much. As the usual routine and the effects of the last pill he took fade, anxiety creeps in like an intruder.
One look at his cellar, and he saw a wine bottle and found himself opening it. As he poured himself a glass, he checked his emails and reminded himself he shouldn’t, then worried about Kayn without having a specific thing to worry about. It was like searching for a sense of purpose, something that now felt elusive. Tense shoulders and fidgety hands betray the storm of unease within, and he walked up the stairs a the minutes seemed to drag themselves.
When was it that even the idea of leisure started feeling overwhelming?
If Kayn doesn’t need him to be calm and collected, can he find a reason to be so?
On his underwear, staring at the mirror again, he knew it wasn’t any good and he’d better get a pill before he starts shaking. The harrowing thoughts creeped in along with the anxiety that he will ruin Christmas completely. So he did it, he took the pills, the amount he knew necessary because one is just candy right now that he’s already feeling nervous.
He texted Kayn ‘You can come any time you want’, hoping that it would be understood as ‘You can come now.’
So, when his phone rang, he had just left it aside to go take a shower, and he didn’t care to check who called.
"Hey." Yone had thought of calling Kayn’s name, saying "hello" or something else; but he had thought so much that he ended up responding just like that.
"Yone, is that you?"
Yone’s heart raced instantly, and his eyes widened.
That voice... it had been so long, but it was engrained in his mind, echoing still from their old living room.
"Mother?" At that point, he couldn’t hide the hesitance in his voice.
He should’ve checked the number before answering.
He should hang up, right now, so why am I frozen?
"Yone, son, it’s been a long time. It’s good to hear your voice, but you seem uneasy."
It felt like he had forgotten how to speak Japanese.
"Who... who gave you this number?"
"Your new secretary," Mrs. Souma, his mother, replied with a calm, slightly ironic tone. "What happened to Irelia? She was unbeatable at brushing me off. This one, I only had to say that we always talk to each other on Christmas."
This man is fired. On Christmas. I’ll fire him on fucking Christmas.
"Why are you calling?"
"I needed to talk to you, son. Are you busy, is someone there?"
"I’m alone, I’m home, and I’m listening." Yone’s hand trembled as he held the phone. "What do you need?"
"I want you to let your guard down and stop thinking I called to demand you something."
"Oh, that’s a new one from you. It’s surely better than the last times I had to listen to father discoursing on how I brought shame to the family name or something annoying like that."
“I hope you knew he was proud of you. We spent too much time pushing you away.”
Yone only realized he’d been pacing anxiously in and out of his bathroom to his bedroom when he stopped suddenly, as if punched in the stomach, his chest burning until it tingled.
"Mother, what are you talking about?"
"I wish I could avoid telling you like this, but I think you'd regret not knowing this later."
"What happened to him?" His tone turned even sharper.
She let out a sigh, almost a groan.
"Your father had an aneurysm earlier this year, Yone, and he went through some stress he couldn’t handle. About two weeks ago, he had a stroke, and he's in the hospital. There’s a significant chance he’ll suffer irreversible damage or fall into a deep coma."
"A COMA?"
“Yone, we tried calling you a thousand times, I swear, but the number we had for you was always off and your secretary never called you or answered us!"
"My father had a stroke and you couldn’t just leave this message to my secretary?" Yone shot back, again, while his vision felt blurry. “Email me, I don’t know?!”
"It is not the kind of subject to be treated by messages, Yone! Don’t you dare put the blame on us. If you cared to even talk to your family, you would’ve known! Your father wanted to let you know while he still could, but you’re impossible to reach! You never cared enough!"
Again, the accusations. The blame. Yone couldn't deal with it right now, or with as much as his own self feeling like it wants to leave his skin.
"So, you’re calling just to let me know the horrible human being I am, noted it! You made it clear years ago!" His high brain strained and flailed, trying to process, the electrical currents within him firing like a slow, constant short circuit. “Merry Christmas, mother.”
"Don’t hang up, son, or I’ll have a crisis myself not knowing how—"
Yone, eyes glassy and staring blankly ahead, hung up the phone.
His head felt heavy, and it was as if his stomach was stuck on his throat to make him choke.
He could not let that feeling sink, but he was buried to his neck already. And the more he struggled, the deeper he caved. And that was a panic attack if he had ever seen one.
Yone walked around the bedroom as if wading through a swamp and entered his bedroom as though he were discovering a cave. That was the price for someone who liked playing God. It didn’t matter how fucked up he was right now, he was beyond treatment. He abandoned his family, and he would abandon Kayn too if he had a heart attack now. He needed to calm down, he had always calmed down, why can’t he now?
Just because I ignored my father until he died?
Just because I fucked myself up beyond repair?
Just because I pretended I was invincible when I was only a little boy trying to be so brave so they will love him like they loved Yasuo?
Just because I’ll let Kayn down and he’ll finally know I’m a fraud?
His knees buckled and a bitter taste seeped even from his gums, and the vertigo churned him, twisting every part of his body, had he been crouching and tugging on his hair? Calm down, calm the fuck down, you stupid, weak creature, he cursed himself and stumbled to get up while something inside him still screamed at the stupidity of what he was about to do. He ignored the warning. Where were his pills? Enough for all his muscles to finally rest, for his memory to erase who he was and force everything to rebuild itself from scratch. Two? No, no, two pills wouldn’t make him sleep long enough. More, a little more of them, just a little more. He shoved them into his mouth and washed them down with the rest of his wine glass, throwing his body onto the mattress.
When he lay back down, it was inevitable to think that maybe sleeping and sleeping and sleeping wouldn’t be so bad. But it was only a moment — a thought that pricked at his wavering consciousness, because suddenly, he realized that Kayn would be alone if he did. Rest was what he wanted, but only that, so whatever else he might even regret it; he tried to bend his elbows and sit back up. At that point, panic had switched into an amorphic feeling too hard to realize. He wasn’t truly sleepy, but a cold sweat broke out across his forehead.
Fuck, something was wrong. Very wrong.
He had to call Kayn and tell him he was… he was what? Freaking out? Panicking? Feeling sick? Dying? Systole; diastole... Everything... everything blurred around the edges, and Yone could hear every beat of his heart, like a massive bell, each toll bursting sharply, reverberating from the top of a church tower. Like marking time, like a foreboding that spreads through an entire town, distant. Yone briefly clutched to his phone with one hand and with the other he felt his own pulse, not conclude anything; soon enough, he rushed to the bathroom and he was throwing up.
Trembly, he sat down on the bathroom floor, dizzily trying to remember how to make a call to the last person he had called, the only one with the recognizable name in there.
“Kayn… help me… please…” He had said, hopefully into the phone. His chest felt tight, as if an unseen weight pressed down on it. Each breath came slower than the last, shallow and uneven. Panic surged briefly, but even that emotion felt distant, muted. Time; time was something malleable and loose like the ground beneath his feet.
Everything thundered in his ears; everything vibrated, everything . His heart beating and trying — loud, monstrous. Systole. The uncertainty of nausea draping everything in a shroud; everything. Diastole. The pressure weighing down on his chest. Everything was violent systoles and unmeasured diastoles, everything. Every toll commanded by time. It could have been the sound of his blood rushing through his veins; it could have been his body collapsing onto the bathroom floor.
Everything was going dark and nothing could stay anchored under him. Each choked exhale of hot air from his lungs seemed to sink him deeper and deeper into a black plasma, and he didn’t notice when it was that he lost consciousness. He didn’t even realize it had happened.
Chapter 49
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
As if blindfolded in a den of beasts, Kayn remained in the hallway unable to see anything happening in the emergency room. The singer was slouched on one of the sofas in the private waiting room, his eyes closed and his head tilted back, resting against the backrest. The windowed room and the whole hospital was a white blur, and all he could breathe in was the smell of disinfectant. Exhaustion kept his eyelids from opening, and stupor rendered his brain useless. The confusion in his mind made walking seem impossible, as if his nerves had atrophied, and then a minute later he needed more than anything to walk out of that room to up and down the hall like a caged animal. Inside, despair spread like a hemorrhage, and Kayn genuinely believed he might vomit the blood he imagined leaking inside his own chest and abdomen.
We’ll get through this. We’ll get through this. We’ll get through this.
At least Yone had called him, and at least he had been on his way already. He arrived at the hospital with pulse, even if very faint, so it’s possible that it could be reversed and that there might not be lasting damage. It also had obviously been a mistake. He wouldn’t have done that on purpose. After all, Yone was a colossus, he wouldn’t just give up like that. It was a mistake.
If you corrode it enough, even marble falls apart.
Kayn was fighting with everything he’s got not wallow in his guilt.
There was no use, and everyone was sick and tired of it.
If Yone wakes up and everything is fine, then everything is fine. They fight it all together, they get over his addiction, Yone will never need to go through any of that again. He isn’t broken for good, just for now.
If he wakes up and he isn’t fine, he will need even more help and company, so he had to be strong for him, and not yet again another iron ball shackled to his ankles.
And if Yone doesn’t wake up at all, I’ll join him right after.
Everything was settled. There was nothing to worry about.
Yet Kayn clung to the hope of a sound, and he slumped even further into the chair, his body hanging limply and suffocating like that of a man being hanged. He remembered how it had been when the helicopter took them, but at least they were rich enough to arrive in time. Hopefully.
A moment after, he pushed himself from the couch to stand up again and started walking towards the stairs, or somewhere, anywhere else for just a second.
Who am I kidding? How can I be the help he needs to get out of this?
The anguish for life welled up in his eyes and it felt like they fractured his very bones. Each painful step felt as if his skeleton were splintering, his muscles growing heavy as though slowly filled with cement. Everything unfolded with the slow, unfinished rhythm of a nightmare. He walked to the bathroom to throw some cold water on his face, and suddenly saw himself marching towards the staircase that reached the terrace. He walked up floor after floor, the burn in his legs from the effort feeling absolutely welcome. He pushed the panic bar on the terrace door and he was greeted by the faint outline of a morning spilling into the bluish-purple sky. Tachycardic and gasping for breath, Kayn let the door swing shut behind him, oscillating once inward before settling back in place.
If he moved forward, there was the helipad he met, with a few lights marking a large square on the ground, where, from above, the letter H circled could be seen. From here, however, it looked like nothing more than a wide, distorted stripe again — or perhaps everything was distorted. The tops of the buildings, the streets, the building-streets, the street-buildings, or whatever that cluster of lights and concrete under the uncertain orb of stars might be. Kayn stumbled toward the parapet, as if he could still run, as if his body could take it. The result was a clumsy, staggering gait and he stopped with his hands on the safety railing.
Now he was alone. And he needed to say something, just to get it out of his chest.
“I told you I wouldn’t give up, babe. And I won’t, as long as you’re with me, or even as long as you’re alive…”, he shut his eyes, the mere consideration of Yone not being with him clutching like swallowing razors. “... maybe …”
He leaned on the railing, lifting his body slightly off the ground, leaning over the edge. His feet no longer touched solid ground. Forcing himself to look down seven stories, he wished it were higher, high enough that he couldn’t recognize a single person, couldn’t distinguish a car from a metallic speck in motion.
“But I didn’t think I’d need you to promise me the same. Because you… you were my cornerstone. I think that ever since I didn’t pull the trigger for you, Yone was, to me, the bust of a hero. I thought nothing could destroy you, but slowly, I saw-... I saw what was happening. And still, I did nothing to help you. Look where we’ve ended up. Another person I love overdosing because I helped bringing them down.”
Forcing himself a little further, he lifted one leg. He placed one knee on the railing, then the other, soon one sneakered foot, then the other. Letting go of the railing, he stood up, the gentle imbalance pulsing behind his eyes — the subtle, fatal imbalance. He stood atop the railing, each gust of wind seemingly strong enough to push him over.
He just wanted to feel something, mostly the feeling of fear telling him to go back. Telling him that there was a reason to go back. And that reason was in the ICU right now, while he was on the terrace pretending to be talking to him.
Because maybe he just liked the drama. Maybe he couldn’t live without it.
Maybe he loved it more than he loved music, in that type of way that you only really love what you allow to destroy you.
We love each other, and I have no doubts about that, but is it enough? Toxic as I am, can I truly ever help you?
He looked down, wishing turned his gaze back toward the solid concrete of the terrace, jumping back to safety. When his feet hit the ground, he crouched to absorb the impact.
He remained crouched until he fell to his knees, huddled over, he grabbed his hair. He wanted to scream, but with that sound, someone would come, and he knew he would have only minutes before that happened. Before something happened — before someone came up and found him, or before he could descend and hide from all that exposure.
For the moment, he stayed still. Stayed still, feeling the dawn, feeling the wind, feeling his body exist, and feeling the tears burn his eyes. He just had to wait.He had waited six hours already, wait some more. Wait, don’t freak out, don’t freak out, there was no reason for that. Don’t freak out, just wait, don’t freak out, he was still commanding himself as he punched the concrete, feeling the skin on his knuckles catch against its roughness, leaving behind small bits of himself. The pain of the impact and the sting of scraped flesh spread through his bones, and he gritted his teeth, muttering like someone casting a curse or beseeching on a prayer.
“Please, babe.” Kayn murmured to his clenched, nearly contorted fingers pressed against the ground. “Just… just be alive. Just don’t leave me here alone. I’ll be better, I promise. I can be different. I can be anything you need, just don’t… don’t leave here.”
Blood on his knuckles, Kayn released his body seated on the concrete of the terrace. He was in such an urge to do something, anything stupid. He needed to do something stupid, and he even sneered as he knew what he would do, picking up his phone.
Maybe he just loved the drama, yeah.
Why hurt himself or someone that matters when he can wreak havoc instead? When he can watch the world burn? That was the thought as he found the number on his contacts and called it. He had to walk for a little while on the terrace before the expected person on the other end picked it up.
“Hello?”
That deep voice he knew so well.
“Hey, K’Sante. Merry Christmas!” He faked the enthusiasm in such a maniacal way that it would be frightening.
“Kayn, what happened? Do you know what time it is?”, the drowsy, sleepy deep voice continued.
“Sure!” The mad excitation followed. “It’s time for me to give you your Christmas gift! I fucking quit!”
“What the fuck are you on, Kayn?”, K’Sante asked, suddenly sounding more awake.
“I’m unfortunately very sober and I haven’t been on anything for a while but a fucklot of weed. But I’m not even on it and damn if I don’t want to be as fucked up as I possibly can right now. But I can’t, so I just want to make sure at the very least I ruin your Christmas, just to rob on some Jesus joy.”
“You’re clearly not well, you had better talk to Yone before you do these kind-”
“Fuck you, K’Sante! FUCK. YOU!” He yelled at his phone, and, damn, it felt good. “You fucking groomer, find another pretty young boy who knew how to suck cock just like me, just make it sure he’s barely legal just like I was for it to technically not be a crime. You’re hot as fuck and yet such a fucking loser that you can only fuck the boys you groom and the men who want something from you.”
The brief silence on the line made Kayn laugh, and he thought that he made a mistake doing it through the phone. He should have gone straight up to his house just to look at his face.
“I’m not having this conversation through the phone in the middle of the night. You sound insane right now.”
“Fine, fucking creep. I just wanted to ruin your holiday. You’ll be receiving your gift soon.”
“Don’t do anything stupid, come on. I don’t know what happened, but you’re not thinking straight. Only the contract termination fee is going to be worth your entire house.”
“I’ll send you the keys. I’ll just pick up on a backpack with my stuff and you can have it. I want nothing to do with any of you anymore. I’ll find someone else, anything else to be my record company or I’ll be on my own because I still would rather be on the fucking streets than spending another second with you, that bitch Evelynn and everyone else that treated me as if I’m their toy. You all ruined me and now you ruined Yone, too. I won’t let you do this to him, too, I’m done.”
“What- What happened to Yone?”
“None of your fucking business. Just know I’ll always owe him for conning you, too. And I know you’ll have to pay some sweet money to him and Evelynn if I quit, am I wrong? I’m not happy that the cuntest of all cunts is earning cash, but at the very least she hasn’t touched me.”
“Why are you saying as if we haven’t been consensual, for God’s sake? I never knew you felt this way, I’ve never forced you, come on. Where are you? Are you home? I’ll go there, let’s talk.”
“Ooh, what is it that I’m listening? Is it fear ? Are you afraid I’ll not only make you lose money but also open my mouth to everyone about you? Good .” Kayn sneered, and the next two words were savoured before he hung up the phone. “Merry Christmas.”
As the call was over, Kayn was laughing madly. He cherished the flavors of pettiness and revenge that remained on his tongue and coughed up yet some laughs more. Then the sound felt alien to him, and he clung to what was left before he was back to feeling very, very empty. Almost unbearably empty, and it was easier to fill it all with rage. It stull hurt less than the fear that he was feeling right now.
He needed someone to make sure he won’t undo everything Yone worked way too hard to get, but the few people he trusted deserved to be at peace right now. So, before coming back to the private waiting lounge, he texted something to someone else.
[Kayn]: How much would you charge extra to meet with a client on Christmas?
As for Kayn’s beliefs, lawyers aren’t necessarily regular people to begin with, so he sent that message to LeBlanc.
***
Eyes open, and the hospital room felt as sterile as his thoughts. A dazed haze followed and dragged itself through Yone’s perception.
His literal first thought was fuck , even before the memories tumbled down and overwhelmed him, too hard to make sense of. He stared at the IV drip attached to his arm, the steady beep of the monitor reminding him he was still alive. Barely. Thankfully.
“Oh, you’re awake. Good evening!”, the soft voice followed and he tried to identify it, letting his head drop to the side, thoughts sailing around like a boat lost in the waves of his dizziness. There was a woman in white in his bedroom, one he didn’t recognize, but his brain could conclude she was a doctor or a nurse.
Her blue eyes were kind, and it even felt a little too kind for such a situation, but his stomach would be churning with kindness or rudeness the same.
“You must be confused right now, but you’re safe, on the hospital,” she said, flipping through her chart. “Can you tell me your name and what happened? Take your time.”
Yone took it, trying to find the words to answer like someone searches for the right puzzle piece as they are all scattered on the floor.
“I’m Yone Souma… I supposed that I… I had a panic attack and I acc- accidn-” his voice was still slurry, so he took a breath. His fingers faintly touched the tubes from the nasal cannula from his oxygen therapy, just so he could understand what was going on. “I tried to, to calm it down, but I guess, I guess I took too much… accidentally.”
The doctor had picked a small flashlight from her pocket, and she had no true reaction to what was said.
“Yes, that checks out.” She said matter-of-factly as she pointed the light to Yone’s eyes, much to his confusion, checking his pupil responses. “Don’t worry, the sensation is probably going to go away as it’s probable there’s no permanent damage. You’ll need to stay here another night or two for observation, and we’ll be running more tests, everything depending on the psychological and psychiatric evaluations.” She held his hand. “Squeeze my hand, will you?”
He thought of saying he didn’t mean to overdose, that it was a mistake. The shame of having failed so absolutely and being found crumpled on floor outweighed any relief he might have felt. But he just squeezed her hand a bit as told and asked about what truly mattered now.
“Do you know about Kayn?”, it was all Yone could babble.
The doctor had eyes and attention on his IV drip for some reason, but she answered still.
“He was the one who called for the helicopter, yeah, and he’s on the visitor’s lounge. He’ll be relieved to know you’re awake and talking. Lift your left leg a little, can you?”
Yone concentrated a bit to remember which leg was his left, and lifted it, to a nod of approval from the doctor. So he continued.
“Can I see him?”
“I’ll call the nurses to get you checked first. Then we can call him in for five minutes so the two of you can see each other. But you’re still in ICU and you should rest more, so it’s all we allow. And you can’t be alone for now.”
He nodded absently.
“It’s good. Thanks. Um, how long… I’ve been here?”
“About ten hours. You recovered quicker than expected, though. The meds you were on are no joke. You’re lucky, another fifteen minutes and you might not be talking to me right now.”
Lucky. That word felt as heavy as the air that had refused to fill his lungs the moment before that, that must’ve been hours ago. He pressed his numb hand against his chest, the memory of that crushing weight fresh in his mind, and he just wanted to tell Kayn he was sorry.
He went through the whole process, minutes dragging on his perception. Some more questions and some tests, a needle in his arm to pick up some blood, more questions and yet another needle. Yone felt anxious again for when he would see Kayn, but the meds probably wouldn't allow him true anxiety. The best he could do was wait and answer as fast as he can while his mind becomes clearer and they are over with testing.
Then, after it all, they said they would finally call Kayn. And too much time later, the door swung open suddenly, shattering the sluggishness that filled the air in the room. When the two turned their heads, startled, he saw the singer who entered grabbing the doorframe.
"Kayn?" The name came out almost like an exclamation from Yone’s mouth.
The singer was breathing heavily and a gleam in his eyes could be noticed.
"Yone!" Between gasps, a smile spread across his face. As soon as Kayn entered and almost threw himself onto the mattress to hug Yone. That was the best sensation so far, and if he weren’t so numb, Yone felt like crying would help him out of the horrible sensation, were he able to do that. He wrapped his arms around Kayn's torso, and Kayn stretched out on the high bed, resting his face in the curve of Yone's neck.
“I’m sorry, Kayn. I’m so, so sorry.”
"What were you thinking, for fuck’s sake?" Kayn's voice became anguished, and he pulled his head to look at Yone again.
“I know. I swear I didn’t mean it.”
Cupping his face, he shook his head very gently, holding Yone’s free hand.
“You can’t do this to yourself, you know I would donate half my liver to you, but you really don't want my liver. Not only I’ve ruined it with teenage drinking and superstar drugs but also they pumped me up with a full PRep cocktail after every time I left a producer’s house. Thing is garbage by now.”
There wasn’t enough room in Yone’s head to fully process all the dark meanings of what Kayn said, so he ended up chuckling.
“You'd donate me a part of your liver? That’s sweet.”
“I'd donate you my fucking stomach."
Yone half-smiled, or the best he could at that.
“Was that to avoid saying heart?”
“I can go full romantic here, what about my reputation?”
Yone smirked, and it was indeed Kayn of all people, and in all of the situations, who would make it all so much lighter. But then he sighed.
"I didn't mean to put you in this situation. I didn't think I'd overdose."
"Did you mistake your pills for a pack of M&Ms?"
The other let out a laugh, one of resigned comfort, like the one he had given earlier.
"You’re funny even in these situations." He let out some laughs more, gazing longingly at Kayn's face.
"Stop giving me this beautiful smile, I'm furious with you!"
The expression on Yone's face faded when he realized the singer was serious, when he noticed his eyes were shining with a pained look of indignation. The singer leaned his body forward once again, another impetuous and quick movement, bringing their lips together. Just that, their mouths united. Kayn’s arms trembled as they supported his body; at the same time, Yone slowly let his free hand, the one without an IV needle stuck in it, rise up the singer's neck until it held his face.
"Idiot." Kayn's word came out trembling and almost against Yone's lips.
"I'm sorry." The manager whispered again as Kayn pulled his face away and straightened his back again. He caressed Kayn’s fingers and saw the bruises on his knuckles, feeling his heart ache. “This was-”
"No. If there's anyone here who should apologize, it's me."
"How... why?"
"I know I’m a mess, and I know you overworked yourself to this point because of everything I put you through. I’ve been terrible to work with and still you were able to stop the trainwreck I am with your bare hands. But we don’t have to be stuck to this hell all our life. We can do it differently, you can be free from this. I'll fix this, Yone, you'll see. Everything is so wrong, but I will..." His voice choked for a moment, and he breathed through his teeth with wet eyes. "For you, okay? I... I think I can handle more than I thought. Because if you need me to endure anything now, I will. Just don't..."
Kayn lowered his head, and his lips trembled as his eyes welled up.
"Kayn, there’s nothing you need to apologize for now. I never-"
"No..." The singer interrupted him, a tear running down his face and being quickly wiped out. "Just don't give up like that, please. You promised you wouldn't leave me, you... you promised. You made me stay here."
The consequences of what he had done would be difficult to work around, but he couldn’t think about the aftermath now, because he shouldn’t and because he wasn’t able to. But he could try to explain.
“Please, Kayn. I would never choose to leave you. I found out… I found out that my father is in a coma, he had an aneurysm a while ago. I- I-... I just panicked when my mother called me, I literally had a panic attack or something- t’was… harder than any crisis I had had so far. And I just… I just tried to numb the sensation ‘cause I couldn't deal with just- just losing control like that. I maybe meant to- I don’t know, I guess I’d want to just be unconscious not to feel what I was feeling, but I never meant to overdose and I never meant to die, I swear. I would never want to do this to you.”
His whole train of thoughts and following expression changing completely, Kayn tried to search for Yone’s dazed, foggy eyes and everything pained him.
“You shouldn’t do this to yourself. But… damn. I’m so sorry to hear about that, Yone. This… this must feel so damn heavy.”
Yone sighed.
“You know, I’ve been ignoring their calls this whole year and, it’s not that I care about him, but-...”
“But you do.”
Yone lowered his eyes to their hands together. Kayn had always been relentless about that.
Yeah, I do.
“I just… I’ll see what I can do. As soon as I get out of here I’ll get to-”
“Hey.” Kayn interrupted him once more, softly. “You take care of yourself first. You get out of here when it’s time to get out of here . No rushing, no working, nothing.”
Yone had time to sigh and nod in acceptance before the door from the room opened and a nurse told them the time was up. Kayn lifted his body to kiss Yone’s forehead, they thanked each other and it lingered for some time before they parted.
As he was alone in the hallway, Kayn took a deep breath and exhaustion took his body over so suddenly he could have felt his blood pressure drop as the adrenaline from the last ten hours suddenly abandoned him. He even leaned his back on the wall before walking to the private waiting room again.
After he entered, he dropped his body on the first reclining armchair he found.
“You should get some rest, Kayn.” LeBlanc told him, as she had been waiting there by a small square dining table, using her laptop.
He had been with her those late night hours. She was quick to answer even before dawn, because for the right price, everything is possible. The plans of quitting were actually real and being made, but he wouldn’t formalize anything as he wait for Yone to do that and the main idea had been just basically terrorize K’Sante on Christmas day, which he definitely didn’t regret.
“Yeah, I’ll take a nap, I guess.”
She got up, picking up her stuff.
“I’ll be on my way, then. I have enough information to work on what you want, but since we’ll wait for Yone, there’s no use for you to be charged extra hours for me to be here now.”
“That’s thoughtful of you.”
She scoffed, putting her laptop inside her tote bag.
“Definitely not. I’d just like to have some sleep, too.”
“Thank you a lot for being here. I was kinda crazy, I know.”
“It’s understandable. But don’t worry, it was nothing worse than having to be called for business with people as high on cocaine as humanly possible as I frequently do.”
She had a playful tone, and there was no way of telling whether she was lying or not, or just trying to be reassuring for some reason for a well-paying client. It didn’t matter, though, because that is just, really, how businesses go.
As he closed his eyes on the armchair, he had barely the time to recline it before he just fell asleep as one falls from a building, what thankfully he didn’t have to do now.
He was lucky this time, so he'd better not lose the chance he was given.
It was past one p.m. when Kayn was woken up by a nurse entering the room. He was startled at how knocked out he had been, and he was ecstatic to find out that Yone would soon be moved to a regular room and that, after some more exams and probably by the end of the afternoon, he would be allowed to check in as his patient companion and join him in the room. That information lightened his mood and he got up with a smile, turning the lights from the delicate chandelier. He was finally realizing a little bit more from his surroundings in muted colors and dark walnut; it was a small, yet elegant and comfortable room, the quiet elegance very far away from the images of cramped shared rooms, crowded waiting areas and plastic Jello cups from an idea of a hospital. He picked up his already out of battery phone from the polished table in front of him to charge it and then ordered lunch from a menu as he realized he hadn’t eaten anything in almost twenty-four hours.
He was having his lunch by himself on the square table LeBlanc had used before when the sliding door of the waiting room was open once more.
This time, however, it wasn’t anyone dressed in white and light blue with a hospital ID badge. There was only a ‘visitor’ badge on the chest of a tall woman with harsh almond eyes narrowed in a severe expression as her glare held on Kayn and he immediately had to wonder who she was and what he had done to her. She had her perfectly dark, straight hair tied in a bun and she wore a tailored blazer in a soft shade of charcoal, a crisp white blouse and high-waisted trousers, and if he had to guess, he wouldn’t ever say she was middle-aged as he would have to conclude minutes later. She was being followed by a man in a suit carrying a small bag, probably a concierge or some personal assistant. There was a quiet confidence and a lot of judgement in her demeanor, and she looked up and down Kayn before stepping in.
“Shieda Kayn, I presume.”
The sentence was odd for him, as someone would either recognize him or not, the first way more frequently than the latter. Why would she care for his name and not his face? Why was she allowed there? The accent she had was strong, and she was clearly a foreigner. Had Kayn been less tired, he would probably conclude something faster. Instead, he got up and asked back.
“Yeah, that’s me. And you are…?”
She didn’t offer her hand as she identified herself.
“Mrs Souma. I’m Yone’s mother.”
Notes:
Guys, thank you so, so much for all the support. I didn't think I'd have you enjoying the story so much like that. Thank you for letting me know ❤️ There's still some story to go, so I do hope you keep on liking it. See you soon ❤️
Chapter 50
Notes:
Hey! Sorry for the delay and for the short chapter, I really didn't manage to do my best because I had a really bad episode. But I'm doing so much better now, and I just wanted to have something for you all. I hope the next one is coming sooner, but mental health is a rollercoaster, isn't it? Thank you so much for still being there! See you <3
Chapter Text
At the answer given by Mrs Souma, everything made sense to Kayn, while, at the same time, nothing did.
Seeing that tall, slender woman with daunting jade green eyes and sharp face features, it was obvious that she was Yone’s mother, because not only such unique traits were really rare, but the composition itself was unmistakeable and she resembled him so much. He could see Yone there and such recognition should be normal from seeing someone’s mother, but at that moment it was just unsettling.
It was the first time in a long while since Kayn last felt nervous in someone’s presence, and he really didn’t know what to do with that. It wasn’t the regular ‘surprise meeting with my in-laws’ type of situation, not at all.
She didn’t look like anybody’s mother to begin with. Firstly, she looked way too young to have a son on his early thirties, and she could’ve been taken for his older sister. But it was more about how imposing she was, from the energy she exuded to the severe expression on her face. Clean and tailored lines on her clothing in neutral tones, her impeccable posture and the hands resting together in front of her body with long, burgundy nails and soft hands, all of which gave away the exact type of sophistication that kept poor people at bay, and, to her, anyone probably would be poor enough.
But, most importantly, and what unsettled him the most, what the hell was going on? What was that woman doing there? Yone not only made it clear many times that he didn’t want to be in contact with his parents, and he specifically told that talking to her had triggered a panic attack serious enough for them to be in this whole situation.
Be kind, Shieda. That’s all you have to do, even if it is to shoo this woman out of here.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs.” He approached and offered her his hand.
She cast a look at his hand as if it’s made of manure, not reaching out to hold it, instead tightening the grip on her own hand she had been holding.
“Oh, everything makes sense now.” Kayn and he pulled his hand back and blurted out within a nervous snort before he could stop himself.
“May I ask you what you are doing here?” She fired back, now the narrowed eyes focused on his face.
“I'm…” Kayn wondered for if he was supposed to say it, but he concluded that saying your son’s partner or whatever for some months now wouldn’t be the right answer “...accompanying him. He’s my manager and my friend.”
“The insurance company contacted me. I was told he is awake now, so I will handle things from here. You may go."
Neither the soft tone she chose to wear nor the apparent politeness of the words chosen to translate her feelings disguised the amount of disdain oozing through her mouth.
Kayn, however, wouldn’t have it.
“Sorry, Mrs, but I'm his chosen hospital companion. I'm not sure that your sudden presence is the best thing for him at the state he’s at right now. He can’t afford to have strong emotions right now.”
Her brows pressed down and there was probably some surgical work required for her face barely have a wrinkle as she immediately looked furious .
“I have flown twelve hours on Christmas to be with my son while my husband is under intensive medical care. I do not need advice from some pop star about what is good or bad for my son.”
“Well, I’m not leaving, and I also won’t allow you to visit him before he asks you to. Merry Christmas, by the way.”
“What do you intend to do?”
“Whatever is necessary.”
Much to Kayn’s surprise, instead of fighting back, she sighed deeply and then immediately looked bored.
“Please, then, would you walk back and allow me to, at least, enter the waiting room? I just want to have a seat and leave my possessions aside.”
Sighing as well, Kayn gave her room to walk in. The man carrying her luggage left it beside an armchair and she thanked him before sitting, saying that he was allowed to go.
As they were alone in the room, Kayn threw his body on the couch in front of her. His fists were closed and his teeth clenched, and she was the first to break the silence. She crossed her legs and took a deep breath.
“So, what happened? Were you with him when it happened?”
Kayn perceived an accusative tone in her voice, but tried to brush it off. Maybe he was already paranoid.
“No. But he called me, so I called the emergency. I don’t feel like I should go on about details. I don’t know much myself”, he lied so he could make the following point. “It’s up to him to say whatever he feels like to you or me.”
She interlaced her fingers and leaned her hands on her knee, keeping a straight posture all along.
“Mr. Kayn, I can see you truly care for my son, whatever it is the shape this care could take. However, I am certain that the way my son is carrying his life is not healthy. Thankfully he is alive, but what if we aren’t this lucky next time? If you are his friend , as your words tell, you will have to agree.”
That time, he didn’t even think of holding back the chuckle.
“You are definitely his mother.”
“Excuse me?”
“Yone is also very good at convincing people and making them think that his idea was their idea after all.”
She smiled softly with something so eerie about it, and not that Kayn has even truly judged Yone for not wanting to be in contact with his parents, but now he was just his number one supporter on it.
“So, you think you really know my son, don’t you?”
“He’s my manager and we spend a lot of time together. He is also the smartest man I have ever met. I’m sure he knows the troubles he is or isn’t in. He doesn’t need any of us to decide anything for him.”
“I also know who you are, Shieda Kayn. You are the one who is, scandal after scandal, making his life even more difficult. He is capable of so much more than submitting himself to this. This line of work was going to bring him to the same misery that you celebrities face, I have always told him this.”
“So you were always telling him that? Maybe this is why he doesn’t call you guys anymore.”
She looked so baffled that she didn’t answer, jaw dropped and narrow eyes from indignation. So Kayn continued.
“I’m a bad influence, yeah, by all means. But can’t you see that what fucks Yone up is how perfect you all raised him to be? How can you get to know your son if you want him to be your flawless puppet?”
Kayn didn’t expect anything that would come up in her retort.
“You are his homosexual partner, are you not?”
Caught off guard, Kayn laughed out loud, barely holding back afterwards.
“Sorry. Homosexual partner just sent me.”, he struggled against his own laughter, failing miserably. She didn’t seem to comprehend, maybe the expression itself, or maybe what was so funny about it after all, so she was again not answering. Recomposing himself, Kayn took a deep breath.
“Whatever your son’s relationship status is, it isn’t something I’ll discuss with you. I hope I’ve been clear on the fact that he’ll only see you when he asks for it. Do you want to order something to eat? You’ll be waiting for a long time here.” Kayn yanked his phone out of his pocket and pretended to care about what was in it, when he was actually feeling pretty unstable and furious enough to shake .
“I really do not have to discuss anything with someone who really does not matter in the subject.” She said with an unnerving calmness as she was sitting down. Then she also reached out for her phone in her purse, and tapped something onto it for a call. Soon she was in a call with someone and she was speaking in Japanese, so Kayn couldn’t understand a thing. He opened his camera to record it so he would show, pretending he was still typing something or scrolling on his phone.
Yet another narcissistic fuck to handle. In the end Yone and I really are birds of a feather.
***
The familiarity of the sedated feeling to Yone contrasted itself with the staleness of the surroundings. He had to sleep, he was required to, and sometimes he did, sometimes he didn’t. It came and went in that room without time, without his phone and without anyone to ask for it, since Kayn hadn’t brought it and, to be honest, he wouldn’t have the heart to demand such thing to begin with; not when his phone was such a symbol of the same anxiety that brought him there to begin with. Right now, anxiety was something amorph that the meds didn’t allow to be comprehended. Pointless, he laid there alone as the day melted away.
I just want to go home already.
Now that he was feeling a little bit more coherent, they started over with the psychological evaluations, and they were… something. It’s clear that they think this whole situation arose from suicidal intent, and he has to convince them that he’s stable enough to be allowed to leave. However, there was something concerning aout how secure they sounded that he needed to be under intense care.
Next time Kayn visits me, I’ll have to ask for my phone.
He needed to call LeBlanc. Could it be just more paranoia from an already anxious mind? Sure. Still he’d be better safe than sorry.
However, waiting for Kayn meant more than just this. It meant having someone to be waiting for him to begin with, someone who could be there when he needs it. Someone who cared enough to be there, to come back.
Someone who could help him.
He was very damn alone in this world, and it had been a choice.
Thankfully, and what Yone cherished the most about being sedated, in this state, the thoughts lose their grip. So they left before they could weigh, and perhaps Yone just took another nap afterwards.
He would be brought to conscience by a nurse, and the happy announcement that it was the scheduled time for visits. It was very silly to realize the expectation it brought. Yone thought it would be giddiness if he could feel it properly.
Seeing Kayn, he wasn’t alone anymore, so he smiled, receiving a somewhat similar smile back.
Somewhat, because Kayn’s was, in fact, his best attempt at pretending everything was okay when he had the worst news to break to Yone.
From the gentle peck on his lips to all the first words, it was puppetry, because Kayn really was trying the best he could to keep casual, to talk about the hospital, about how he liked lunch or not, but the implication of the presence of Mrs Souma was hovering in his mind and like a ghoul around everything. And he isn’t the best at controlling his emotions to begin with.
So he eventually had to come to terms with it, and it burst out of his throat like everything else does.
“So, I really need to talk to you about something. I’m sorry I have to bring this up, but I had to fist fight Mrs Souma for her not to enter here.”
“What ?”
“I didn’t actually punch your mother, it was a joke. You know I joke when I’m anxious.”
“My mother is here? What the fuck is she doing here?” He covered his face with his hands and groaned. “Oh, fuck. It’s the insurance. I’m so stupid.”
Yone’s clear anxiety made it ever worse for Kayn as well.
“Man, she’s something, isn’t she? She’s very alike you with the whole piercing eyes and the scheming words and I have to say she’s also hot and I’m so sorry I have absolutely no filter right now”, the words stumbled out of his throat and he was anxiously fidgeting. “I’ll shut up.”
Yone didn’t care about the inappropriate comments, but also at that moment for how nervous Kayn was. He just rubbed his eyes and sighed, trying to keep himself calm.
“What did you two talk about?”
“A little dramatic bit of hers about how you are making wrong choices with this line of work and etcetera.”
“Predictable. Worst part is that she knows very well how to play the victim.”
“Also, she already suspects of, um, in her words, that I am your, ahem, homosexual partner. But I didn’t tell her anything, don’t worry.”
“You should have. We’re together and she’ll have to deal with it.”
Kayn felt a weird heat that could have spread to his cheeks, but mostly pooled in his chest and guts.
“I can’t believe how soft that made me. You can’t do this, I’m a gangsta, you know?”
Yone would find this amusing in any other situation, yet right now it was frustrating. Everything was. And he was chained to that moment, closed in inside those walls, as if all the freedom he thought to have built by now was merely a shadow play from a fickle flame.
“I don’t care about what she thinks, but a mother is a mother. The power a mother has over someone is insane.”
Then, Kayn held both Yone’s hands and sought his eyes.
“Don’t worry about it. She won’t get to you, ok? You need to relax even though this is hardly an option for you."
But even while everything felt like a haze, Yone’s mind was working like crazy.
“What I need is my phone to talk to LeBlanc if anyone tries anything funny. I want to be out of here as soon as I can.”
“Oh, boy, she’ll have some Christmas bonus this year.”, he meant the fact that he had just called her, but thankfully for now it went right over the other’s head.
“Fuck, you’re right. It’s fucking Christmas.” Yone once more clenched his teeth. “I’m… I’m so sorry about this, by the way.”
“Don’t even try. You just have to get better, the fact that it’s Jesus’ birthday or whatever is just a detail.”
“So, just let my mother in after you. You should go home already, she’ll just poison you otherwise. I’ll deal with her.”
“With all due respect to Mrs Souma, I’m not afraid of a snake, Yone. And I will take the bite before letting her do it to you. A toxic mother can wreck us with even one talk. I won’t ever, ever talk again to mine, and if your choice is to never have any talk with her, you’re in your right to do so. Screw everyone that says otherwise.” He reached out for his phone. “She was talking on the phone in Japanese so I recorded it to you.”
He played it and Yone listened carefully to it. He started attentive, then as the audio went on, his expression twisted and his breathing got shorter.
“What happened?”
“I think she is talking to her lawyer or something. She’s acting as if her son needs medical attention and can’t answer for himself.”
“What?”
“Yep. Probably to try to bring me home now that her other muppet, my father, is unconscious. She can’t take the hint that they were the ones who pushed me away to begin with.”
“What a fucking bitch, with all due disrespect now. She’ll not walk past this door, I can promise you.”
Yone breathed out, closing his eyes.
Oh, if he ever needed motivation, that was it. Fire would flicker even in his dazed eyes, and that was about it. Even when his type of cognitive trauma response had always been flight - workaholic, overthinker, anxious, perfectionist, avoidant - he knows very well how to fight now.
“No, don’t worry. If that’s the game she wants to play, I know very well how to deal with her.”
Chapter 51
Notes:
Guys, thank you so much for all the support, you are awesome. I'm doing much better <3 Hope you all like the chapter. Have a great week!
Chapter Text
The tree-lined driveway felt like one of those dreams where you run as fast as you can and never get any closer to where you want. Where it’s hard to see things clearly, and now the intricate gold filigree on the grand wrought-iron gate was shimmering with the dusk and he was back where his whole life began.
If Yone spaced out just a little, he was once again a boy coming back from school. It was almost the same car he was in, even; his father has owned Toyota Centuries since the eighties. When he decided to have some other sports cars for himself and his wife did as well, the Toyota Century of the year would still be bought year after year to be kept as the family car, designed to pick the kids up in school and in their endless activities. Now it was an SUV, but same brand, picking him and his mother up at the airport to bring them to his childhood residence.
The 12-hour flight was mostly silent, and that was, at the very least, the only thing he thanked for in this whole endeavor. Still in L.A., when his mother tried to convince him to go to Japan, he had said “alright, I’ll go.” When she insisted that it was for his own good, he had said “why are you still trying to convince me? I said I’ll go.” And he found her lost at words, uncertain whether she had won the conversation or not, but still not willing to find out. They hadn’t had a proper conversation in forever; in general, they had hardly ever spoken with each other all their lives to begin with.
Now that Yone looked at everything from the outside, even more figuratively than literally speaking, it was all very redundant. Why did that house have a whole thermae if the kids wouldn’t play on them, instead waking up every single day before six a.m. to never really play at all? There was such a big music room where not a single wrong note was tolerated, and the music trainment was followed by an hour of silent meditation in the family’s tatami room. Dressed in a neatly pressed uniform and seated at the lacquered dining table, he would have, every single day, the best food the money can buy, in a quiet, formal breakfast, where conversation is minimal, and manners are paramount.
That wasn’t a complaint, not really. It was just really vain, and really empty, to the point of now feeling ridiculous, and it would be funny coming from someone who lives with celebrities and many other people who are known for being the blueprint of vanity. And he would like to think he broke free from it all, even though it doesn’t feel like freedom at all when he gets out of the vehicle and breathes in the subtle smell of camelias, no much more accented than that of tea leaves or green foliage, or when his trained ears capture the faint sound of water trickling from an unseen tsukubai and the outside koi pond. In front of them both now, the heavy wooden doors, reinforced with iron studs, which creak faintly when opened by the employees.
It’s been a while. Yone has been able to reach a significant wealth almost on his own, if one doesn’t consider the whole funding of his top-tier higher education. Still, it wasn’t parallel to Kayn’s, and it definitely wasn’t parallel to his heritage.
I’ll love to sell all of this to the highest bidder, Yone thought, hands in pockets now as he didn’t have to carry any of his own luggage, looking around as even the main he genkan entryway stretches further than his bedroom in Los Angeles. He lowered his eyes to the polished keyaki wood floors that gleam softly under the light of a carefully placed shōji lantern. He leaves his shoes in the shoe cabinet to exchange for new black slippers and so does his mother. Nobody exchanges much more than the necessary words.
The walls of the formal receiving rooms are subtly illuminated by natural light filtering through fusuma doors painted with delicate scenes, were paneled with aged cedar and washi paper in a muted palette of cream and warm brown. While all of its decoration is simple at a look, Yone knew the origins of each ceramic vase and each hand-painted scripture.
As they reach the main area, he can see that the wide staircase in polished hinoki wood has aged into a deep, honeyed hue. Had it always been like this, as well as when he was younger, or was the last decade enough to dye its years into it?
“Would you want to see your father?”
Present reset itself in his mind as Yone heard his mother’s voice.
“No. I want to rest and take a bath.”
She stopped on her tracks.
“You won’t even see your father?”
“Why? Can he even see me or say anything to me? He’s asleep and he probably won’t wake up anytime soon.”
She frowned in disapproval, a feature as familiar as any millenar ceramic vase that has rested in a corner of his house for as long as he remembers.
“You have some nerve, talking about him like this.”
Yone walked past her towards the staircase.
“I’ll be on time for dinner. See you later.”
He still heard his mother order an employee to follow him to his room before all he can hear, barely, are their steps on wood and tatami, making Yone wonder about when was it that he had finally mastered the art of being absolutely quiet.
The employee opened the door of his former room and left his luggage there. Dismissed, he left, and now it was finally only Yone and a place he used to know.
The air is touched by the faint mustiness of a room rarely disturbed, yet still occasionally cleaned. The room is sparse, but each object still holds the shape of the teenage boy who left. The tatami mats, though slightly faded, beside the window through which the last sunrays cross, are the same ones he used to lie on, listening to music and reading in the only hour of the day he’s got entirely for himself. The shōji screens by the window are sun-streaked, but intact. When Yone slides them open, the view beyond is the same of the huge garden and twisted pine branches framing the garden below, just as they did when he would look ahead dreaming of the world beyond the estate’s walls. A breeze slips through, stirring the faintest trace of old incense clinging to the wood.
A low wooden shelf against the wall stands mostly empty. Only a few forgotten music theory books remain, their spines sun-bleached and stiff. Beside it, in the corner, the futon closet gapes slightly, its doors ajar. It’s empty now, but the faint indentation on the lower shelf marks where his belongings once rested. There’s a scuff on the frame where he used to kick it shut in a hurry. No one has smoothed it away. No one cared to.
The silence presses in as if the room has been waiting for him all this time, but not in a good way. Not as in an invitation, welcoming him home; there was not a trace of home in that place, and it was an estranged concept for him to begin with. It seemed to be waiting for him so it could recount how many of the routines he started and finished there were brought to his adult life, and if they were worth at all. It was counting the seconds to addres how many teaching has he failed to put into fruition.
He was as far from Los Angeles as he could possibly be, and physical distance was the smallest part of it.
Sighing, Yone rolled his shoulders and shook his head. He reached for his phone inside his jacket pocket and then left the piece of clothing aside; it felt like he could be scolded for throwing it on the desk carelessly like that.
He opened his hand luggage and looked for his pills.
Yeah, he couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t. And he had told Kayn he wouldn’t take all of them, but it isn’t like Kayn would, or even could, forbid him to do anything. And it wasn’t going to be now that he would end up clean, when he’s in the last place in the world he wants to be. Definitely not when he’s in a private plane and he won’t get screened when going overseas with it all.
One pill in, and he sighed, calling Kayn. A couple rings and he’s seeing Kayn’s face on the screen. He was lying down and shirtless, and the slight redness in his eyes would make Yone bet he’s a bit high on weed.
“ Ohayou gozaimasu ”, he said as soon as he answered.
“Don’t do this.” Yone laughed at how horrible Kayn’s American accent was in that Japanese attempt.
“It’s your fault for not teaching me properly. Not even our piano lessions are on schedule.” Kayn chortled, and then added. “How was the trip?”
“Silent, but thankfully in a way. I’m in my room already.”
Kayn seemed to have sat down.
“Show me around, then!”
“Not much to see, actually.” Yone said, but complied, turning the screen to show around the room.
“Oh, so it is indeed like a samurai movie stereotype. Phew . I thought I was just being racist.”
“You are being racist, Kayn.”
“I’m American. It’s kind of racist of you to attack my freedom of speech. Only we can do it to other countries, with bombs and whatnot.”
“And you wonder why I wouldn’t bring you here.”
“No, you were 100% right. I would most definitely offend you to the last of your old money ancestors. But come on, isn’t there any of your old stuff in there? Something from teen Yone, maybe an old synthesizer you used to make your beats with?”
“I don’t think so. I think they got rid of everything I didn’t take with me to Juilliard.”
“Aw. I would want to see it. If you find something, send me a pic or bring it, would you?”
Yone didn’t notice as his lips were easing out into a smile.
“Sure. And you? How are you doing?”
“Gnawing at my limbs from missing you already, but I’ll be fine. Jinx is coming with meth and half a dozen hookers for the toga party.”
He rolled his eyes, sitting down on the futon bed.
“This is getting old already, Kayn.”
“Damn, you know me too well. It’s just two hookers and ketamine, and the party is just some hobos I collected somewhere around the city.”
“Kayn.”
“Come on, tell me to behave already.”
Sighing, now mostly in a softer, resigned way. It truly felt easier when he could just be silly like that.
“When I come back, you better have been a good boy. Otherwise, you won’t get anything nice you want.”
“That’s better.” Kayn sighed and sprawled on the bed, crossing his free arm behind his head. Yone laughed weakly, but then changed his tone.
“I have to take a shower and rest a little bit before dinner, and you should sleep, it’s late already. We’ll see each other in Tokyo in the 31st, right?”
“You better, or I WILL party with the hookers for New Years Eve instead.”
“I will be there. I know we had planned differently, but I’m sure it will be fun as well.”
“No problem. Greece next year, then?”
Kayn smiled, and Yone had no choice but mirroring.
“You should also see Okinawa. But wherever you want, I’m game."
“Nah. I want you to make the commitment.”
“Then it’s a plan.”, Yone nodded, smiling.
“Good. See you in a couple days, babe. Good luck with everything and please take care. Two days is way too early after something like that for you to be out there doing your stuff. But it’s your decision. Just take it easy.”
“I will, don’t worry. You take care, too, babe.”
“Leave it to me, sweetheart.”, there was a smirk even in Kayn’s voice as he said it. Hanging up and leaving the phone on the bed, looking at the ceiling, though, that half-smile withered away slowly.
Alone in a half-silence and in a half-lighted room, all Kayn could do was watch the ceiling. In L.A. it was past one a.m. already.
Should he have been harsher about this? Should he have fought Yone’s decision and told him he really wasn’t in shape for something so emotionally jarring and physically demanding as traveling all the way to Kyoto two fucking days after overdosing, the moment after being discharged? He might still even be mentally confused and his lack of control with the pills is still the problem.
Still, that was exactly what Yone’s mother was trying to do; say that he wasn’t in conditions to answer for himself properly. He couldn’t also be saying the very same thing.
It was scary to know how much he trusted Yone. Blindly. Way too much, maybe. Like he’s got everything under control even when he clearly doesn't.
And he stared at the ceiling because soon everything had to be okay. Still the sensation that Yone felt way too far away from his reach could be just his anxiety talking, but it was true; he almost lost him, and now he’s physically away. Fear creeped on the edges of his conscience, as if he never fully acknowledges it, never stares at it, painstakingly fighting his own conscience. Everything was both too intense due to the weed and he was also too numb. The echo is overwhelming, condemning it to be heard, yet not now, not yet. He could live with sorrow, he could aknowledge anxiety and walk past it, he knew those feelings far too well. He had something to hold onto now. So he wouldn’t gaze into despair.
On the outside, not much more than a man already dreading spending a single night away from his partner. Then crawled into a ball, hugging a pillow and shutting his eyes to try to fight off the fright, hoping he just falls asleep fast enough.
***
The crystal droplets of the chandelier shimmer faintly, but the light feels cold, clinical, as if it only touches surfaces and never lingers, glistening in the silver utensils and the crystal glasses. Not even the wooden chopsticks or the white china won’t shimmer, however, even though the room is anything but shiny to begin with, all in muted and dark colors. At the center of the room, the dining table, long enough to seat twelve, but tonight, there are only two place settings, far apart. The space between them feels deliberate, as if the distance itself is a message.
Too much food. Too many chairs. It’s too large a room for just two people, but it has been for three, too, all the eternal years of his adolescence. Maybe there was another time, more than fifteen years ago, where four might’ve been enough.
Yasuo was never quiet. Not that he was a talkative one, not really. But he didn’t silence.
That might’ve been the reason why Yone showed up for dinner in a dress. Not anything that could be mistaken by a traditional kimono or anything alike. An evening dark red dress made of flowy fabric and locked around his waist with a dark corset, in hopes that it would be too outrageous to be ignored.
At one end of the table, she sits. Perfect posture. Her silk blouse catches the light when she moves, though she barely does. Each gesture is careful, rehearsed. She lifted a glass of wine to her lips without a sound, but her eyes, sharp, linger too long on him across the table. She watched him, her expression unreadable, but it would probably be safe to assume something in her stillness tasted like either judgment or disappointment, or, better yet, both.
He doesn’t meet her gaze, only finding his place to sit, almost forgetting he isn’t supposed to pull his own chair and serve himself of anything, and then purposefully misdoing it once he remembered.
He had made her wait, too.
Again, purposefully.
Still, a muscle in his jaw twitches as if the silence is something he has to chew through. His appetite, if it ever arrived, left the moment he stepped inside, even though the smell of the dinner was actually good.
Thankfully he’s already a little bit dazed.
He would let her have her first move anyway.
Between them, the table stretches wide, too wide, and he starts serving himself rice, much to the despair of the server.
Her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft but edged, like silk drawn over steel.
“How are you feeling, son?”
Lifting his gaze from his plate to her was hard enough, and he noticed himself cold sweating. Maybe he had been since he looked at himself in the mirror, defiant as he was to every norm in that house.
No, he doesn’t buy her concern. He saw it as the first chess piece dragging across the board.
He had forgotten, as well, how hard it was to ignore the whole existence of a server awaiting beside them as they talk about whatever as if they can’t even understand. So he answered in English.
“I’m feeling great,” he lied. “Maybe I really need to slow down.”
She answered in English as well.
“I am glad to hear that. Today things did not go well, when you chose not to see your father. My reaction was too strong. The way you deal with your feelings, it is fine if it is the way that is easiest for you.”
“I thank your unwavering support.”
She smiled, creeping him out.
“I did not miss your sarcasm, but I did miss you.”
“What is it that you really want from me, mother?”
The silverware clinks softly as he sets down his fork. His hands curl into fists beneath the table, hidden.
“I’m alone, son. I like having you here. This is all.”
It’s like she dragged a queen diagonally across the entire board right in her first moves. What would he expect from such boldness? He almost reached out for the wine when he reminded himself he shouldn’t drink. So the water in his glass was gulped down right away instead.
She used that time to continue.
“I ordered you this regular European dinner, but I wanted to know if you still enjoy unagi. We could have it for lunch tomorrow. What do you say?”
He wanted to say he couldn’t care less for unagi, not now and not then.
“It would be lovely, mother. Thank you.”, he managed to smile if he detached himself from it. She probably caught it, but she was left without much else to say for now. So silence creeped in again until the end of the meal. Across from him, she exhales. Not quite a sigh, but something tighter. The silence returns, thicker this time, swelling between them again, filling the room like smoke, choking and inescapable.
He would go back to his room to change back into something comfortable, since trying to outrage his mother like a teenager would made him, surprise, only feel like a pissy teenager. In pajamas he checked e-mails and communications in general and worked for a few hours. It would be close to midnight when he was leaving his bedroom again. He obviously had not slept and wouldn’t any time soon; if he can hardly do it normally, let alone when he’s neck-deep into his past and jet-lagged in about eight hours.
Walking barefoot now, there wasn’t barely any sound and he was a phantom in those eternally long corridors. Every creak in the wooden floors echoed way too much and made him look around. He had to ignore one specific door, with much effort. Then, passing through the main suite would be the most challenging, as the lights are always on and the doctors and nurses are awake accompanying his comatose father. Still, if he acted inconspicuous and confident enough, even if caught he wouldn’t have any trouble. Because what he wanted to reach was his father’s personal office down the hall.
He looked around to see pushed down the doorknob and held his breath as it opened with a loud click. The breath turned into a sigh of relief that it wasn’t locked. Everything else must be easy from now on.
Closed inside again, he must have visited here only a couple of times, when his father wanted him to play some harpsichord for him. Still he knew very well his father liked everything the same way as it had always been, and it wouldn’t be hard to remember where everything he wanted to know about was.
The faint scent of leather, dust and old paper lingers in the air, mingling with the faintest trace of cigar smoke. The place wasn’t allowed for anyone, not even the cleaning crew, when not under his supervision.
The walls have built-in mahogany bookshelves from floor to ceiling, filled with leather-bound volumes. Everything the same, the antique globe with faded continents, the calligraphy art, a brass telescope, and a crystal decanter set, the harpsichord by the corner.
At the center of the room, the massive, polished oak desk with clawed feet, on top of it the collection of fountain pens resting in a carved wooden holder. A few sheets of paper, precisely stacked, lie next to a crystal paperweight, and behind the desk is a high-backed leather chair in deep brown. It was even weird to find a laptop on top of such table, and he knew his father hated using it, he just had to.
Yone lighted one of the lamps so that he won’t need to turn on the main light. He looked around on the shelves to where the line of dust was cleaner; it was behind these books that he used to hide the keys from the desk drawers.
He found one, pulled the books and the faint clink revealed the key.
Predictable, he muttered as he grabbed it.
He unlocked the drawer to find the appointment book where he would have his passwords.
Again, many times his father also did things in the presence of his sons as if they aren’t able to understand what is going on.
His father was a much regular man for all that he represented, and that wasn’t anything surprising. It was very much in character.
And it was in character for Yone, too, to be doing something this shady. Both going through his e-mails and his papers, Yone spent almost an hour inside there. He just wanted to be aware of how is everything going for them financially and what else he needs to do there.
He needed to be as cold as possible before he even sees the unconscious face of his father and regrets it all.
Once he gathered enough of what he needed, he was back again to the dark and silent corridors. His heart wasn’t racing too fast. He’s good at this. He did whatever it takes. That was him, someone they thought to lie without having to give a single express order.
And even though he swears to himself that it’s only business, he can’t ignore again the same door. His eyes linger on it and before he thinks it through, he’s inside.
He turns on the light and holds his breath.
It’s Yasuo’s room.
And it is untouched.
Yone looked around and the tachycardia settled in, throat tightening.
Near the window, the curtains are slightly askew, one side pinned back with a guitar pick. Leaning against the wall is a scuffed electric guitar, its strap patched with pins from rock shows not even Yone knew of, hooked to a small but powerful amp. Stacks of classical sheet music sit neatly on the desk, but beneath the bench, tucked out of sight, is a crumpled setlist from a local rock gig. Yone knew it, and checking it, only to confirm, hurt like his blood was freezing slowly.
Above the headboard, where a delicate calligraphy painting should hang, a massive Led Zeppelin poster was sprawled, when probably he didn’t even like the band that much; he only liked it better than traditional decoration. The edges of the poster were curling slightly from being ripped down and re-hung too many times. A leather-bound music theory textbook is cracked open on the nightstand, though its pages are scribbled with half-written song lyrics in messy handwriting. He had always been talented. He had always been better.
Why would they do this? Why would this room be a sanctuary of his brother for all those years? With everything they said to hate. Everything they cursed at Yasuo for.
He felt his legs faltering and he sat down on the bed. The same bed he had sat on as he playfully blackmailed his brother so that he would cover for him while he escaped to have fun one last time, while he drank enough for his car to be a weapon against himself.
Maybe that was their fate, drink themselves away with whatever killed them first.
His eyes welled against his will and he wiped them fast, to no avail. He remembered that he had cried, too, by himself, like a baby or a teen, when Kayn was caught drinking and driving.
Even when he wanted to run away, he stayed. He compromised even worse. All the time. That’s what he does. Every. Single. Time.
Isn’t there any escape, after all?
He crawled on the sheets and when everything feels so unmoving, he’s the one who collapsed once more. There wouldn’t be the scent of his brother, neither the warmth in the bed. He didn’t have the heart to cry loudly, but hw wept silently like the tears flooded him too much not to overflow. He was to cry on the pillow the cleaners vacuumed way too many times and his mother would probably freak out if she saw him there.
And, curiously, however, that was where Yone ended up sleeping, before he could even think it through properly.
Chapter Text
The first sight was of the same and perhaps for a couple of seconds Yone believed he was seventeen years old. Perhaps because he had dreamt of it; he had dreamt of endless corridors whose floor stuck to his feet and a song that restarted every time that the chorus was about to begin. He dreamed of what maybe was Yasuo’s laughter, maybe, because he didn’t have any of it recorded to compare and know if it was true. But as his eyes were open, he was thirty-one, there was no sound at all around and, even though the corridors were indeed almost infinite, he could walk through them and sinking would only be a metaphor.
Both waking up to his past and realizing his present made Yone close his eyes again in the morning. He had to get up all at once and leave, or he wouldn’t master the courage. But he was good at having to pull the thorn out of his skin knowing it will hurt, or, if he weren’t, he was good at convincing himself he was whatever he wanted to be by then.
So soon he was in another of the endless corridors there, and he could go back to his room almost unnoticed when some infinites were bigger than others.
He had better, more important things to do there. And it would begin outside of that house. He had a call to make, and he just wanted to get out of there for a while to find some cold coffee and bagels to eat. So he left the house by himself and called for transportation to find a regular shopping center where he could rent a car and make a call to someone specific.
He would have his Western breakfast farther away from all that, though. That close to New Year’s Eve, the parks in Kyoto would have their commemorative decoration and many attractions, full of tourists. So he would find somewhere different, tucked away from the buzz of the city, following a gentle canal lined with smooth stones. The trail winds for about two kilometers between the ancient temples, along old wooden houses, tiny artisan and tea shops, their entrances half-hidden behind curtains or bamboo thickets. It was cold enough for his breath to fog and he sat down on a bench near a stone weather-worn Buddha with offers of incense and coins by his feet. The sky was grey and the cherry trees were bare, quiet, skeletal silhouettes against the cold winter sky. He was thinking of all he’s learned on wabi-sabi , the beauty of impermanence, decay, and emptiness while sipping his cold coffee and the boxes with words in English were leaning on his lap.
Something inside him just wanted to scream. Just to disturb the silence and the reverence. Just to be outrageous, just to make sure he hasn’t sunk into a very expensive painting he had to learn about or that he isn’t inside a frozen memory he hasn’t lived at all.
“Fuck, I’m so fucking bored.” he said in English as he dropped his head back, sunk into the bench and reached out for his earphones in his pocket to blast some music before the thought of blasting his own brains out took over. He texted Kayn back on the several texts and memes he had sent, then started scrolling before he would check his emails. His social media was worse than any Kayn fan. All that was fed to him was Kayn content. Concert montages, heartfelt content, thirst traps and Paranoia essays.
It felt like a lifetime ago. But it’s been just a couple of weeks. He was so detached from it as he was from everything he was feeling. He just felt bored and back to a weird shell of his former self.
Could it be that he only had those two options? Stereotypical refinement or stereotypical vanity?
He was smiling at the videos he was seeing and he knew he would call Kayn very soon. But first he had to talk to someone, so he dialed the number he had found amidst his father’s things.
A little while later, that someone answered.
“Hello”, he said, in Japanese, and so would Yone, with the proper formal suffixes.
“Hello, Shen-san? It’s Souma Yone here…”
***
Kayn woke up with a deep breath and his shoulder was hurting from the way he had been sleeping. Not that he has never slept on the floor, but to find out he was still inside his home music studio was a new one.
It was the middle of the afternoon or already evening. Maybe night already. Which fucking day was it, again?
At the very least he kept himself at home.
He just had to not leave the house nor call anyone over. Everyone he knew was a menace to him, even the people he liked.
Only Yone was safe.
They got together. They love each other. But he can’t test Yone’s limits any longer; he had done it enough. He was a complete mess but he wanted to be someone who could be responsible. Or, at the very least, someone who won’t hurt Yone any longer.
They were doing well, they just had to adjust themselves.
Right?
That was what he repeated to himself while the devil on his shoulder screeched “then why is he taking so long to answer his messages, even when it’s already daytime in Kyoto?”
Is he safe? Did he overdose again? All of that clung to Kayn’s heart when he didn’t manage to sleep even when he was higher than Japan’s mountains. So he did what he thought was the best answer: he brought the anguish to the studio.
Along with some liquor bottles.
Again, healing is not linear, but what a fucking shitshow of a rollercoaster.
Maybe I’m not meant for stability to begin with, he thought, at the same time telling himself “I’m not meant to have such a pathetic life” and yet afraid to death to fuck around and find out when it will be the last straw for Yone.
He sat down and his stomach sunk before seemingly churn all the way up to his throat and he took a deep breath not to vomit. Headache rang like an old church bell inside his skull. There was maybe one hour or so of trying lyrics out before everything else was a mess, and he grabbed the papers he had around himself.
The so-called songs he made weren’t terrible, but also weren’t much also. There were some cheap metaphors and some commonplace relations. Thing was, he couldn’t be afraid of being repetitive. He had to exhaust the patterns until he works something out of it. Still, what entertained him the most was actually the doodles he had made of Rhaast as a new persona.
It made him smile for a moment before everything else came back.
He looked for his phone check for messages, to find out there were some at the very least, and his heart eased out a bit. He should eat, take something for the headaches and nausea and get some proper sleep. He would have to pack his bags soon and finally, finally see Yone again.
Getting up dizzy, he sighed. Yeah, it had been like two days.
Kayn knew the extent to which he could feel needy. Oh, needy didn’t begin to cover it.
Someone knocked on the studio door and he told them to enter. The head of a young housekeeper peeked through the door.
“Hello, sir. It’s Mr. K’Sante. He’s come here to see you.”
Kayn rolled his eyes to the back of his skull.
“Jesus fuck. Just dismiss him, if you need to call security for that. The man is big, though, you should bring more than one.”
“I will, sir.”
As she answered, Kayn looked down at the papers around him and at the doodles he made.
“No, wait!” he said, and she came back. “You know what? I’ll talk to him. Could you please order me a hamburger to the kitchen meanwhile? Thank you very much, sweetie.”
“Sure, sir!”, she smiled, “I’ll tell them to take the guest to the main living room."
Kayn wondered if he’s ever seen that housekeeper smile.
I’m really a fucking dick, ain’t I?
Kayn took his time to build courage, and as he dragged his body along the house, he didn’t bother not looking like a walking hangover. That house was way too bright, the aquarium way too big, everything way too large. There was surely a heir of a blood diamond mine in Botswana that would like to have it instead.
As he stood under the living room doorway, he was barefoot and had crumpled clothes, the last time he brushed his teeth a faint memory in the back of his mind.
“God, Kayn. What happened?” K’Sante got up frowning, and it elicited a laugh from the singer.
“Good morning to you, too.” Kayn sneered and walked towards a different couch he could fall onto.
“It’s the afternoon already.”
“Oh, so this is why I’m so hungry.” He threw himself on the couch across K’Sante, a big glass coffee table between them. “Why are you here?
“I wanted to talk to you properly about the call you made me before I reach out to Yone.”
Kayn shrugged. It would be bad if Yone found out about him quitting the records without telling him, but it isn’t like he had told anyone but LeBlanc about it. As far as anyone is concerned, this is just another fit he’s throwing. It could very easily be just him fucking K’Sante over.
But he isn’t. Leaned back on the couch staring at a pointless chandelier while his head throbbed, he wanted to break all of it.
“So say it already.”
“Kayn, I’m here to ask you if you plan on going forward with the subject you brought to me on Christmas.”
“Quitting? Definitely. First thing I’ll do as soon as vacation ends.”
“What has Yone said about it? Was it his idea?”
“You do know he’d actually like it. He and Evelynn had been scheming it for some time. I know you’ll pay them dearly if I just quit.”
“So you haven’t told him.”
Kayn sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing his eyelids with his fingertips.
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.”
“And you’re looking messy. Has something happened between you two?”
It was even funny that so much happened that K’Sante had no idea about.
“I’m so moved that you’re concerned about our relationship, K’Sante. But if you came here to check on the house you’ll earn by the contract termination fees or whatever, you can take yourself around for a look. Want me to pack my bags and leave already?”
“I don’t want your house, I want you to keep it and keep making us money and not have to pay some damn Evelynn. You’ve been top charts with Paranoia for the last entire month. You know how hard to keep this is!”
“Too bad you aren’t earning from that.”
Kayn could hear and see him by the corner of his eye shifting on his seat. His anxiety brought Kayn peace.
“Still. What it showed us is the obvious, Kayn. People want the real you and Yone knew how to bring it out. Even if… whatever happened between you happened, we’ll find the right professionals to keep you raw and pure like you’ve always meant to be.”
The singer sat down and finally looked at K’Sante.
“I want two big ass demon horns and a big ass scythe.”
“What?”
“I want to be gruesomely killing a right-wing actor that pretends to be the president. On the Coachella stage.”
“Kayn.”
“And I mean actually killing him. Then I write ‘trans rights’ with his blood on the back of some naked gay dancers.”
“I know you’re trying to shock me, but are we negotiating something here? Because I’ll bring whatever it is to the board.”
At how desperate the other man was, Kayn laughed out loud.
“Fuck the board, K’Sante. I don’t want any of you any longer. There isn’t anything you could offer me that would change my mind.”
K’Sante reached for his open briefcase that had been lying beside him on the couch. He grabbed a big envelope and offered it to Kayn.
“I’ve compiled in the last days the expected losses from this decision, from contract fees to stocks. I’ll take a big loss that I don’t want at all, but you? You’ll be bankrupt within months. Take a look.”
Obviously Kayn didn’t reach out for it.
“Come on. Now you’re just being naive. You know where I’ll tell you to stick it.”
K’Sante sighed and left the envelope on the coffee table between them.
“I do. So I sent this to your lawyer already.”
Sighing as well, dramatically loud, Kayn got up and headed to .
“Fine, so she’ll answer you. Now I need to eat something and you need to pick up your wife from her personal trainer’s bed so you two can plan New Years’ dinner.”
“We should be able to work this out, Kayn. We’re the only ones who had been in this from the beginning.”
The sensation crawled under Kayn’s skin and as he stopped his entire body stiffened.
“Do you mean when your recruiting agents passed me over to you like a joint you all put your mouth in?” the singer said, still not looking at him.
He heard the deep sigh.
“I’m so sorry you saw the relationship this way, Kayn. That was a mistake of mine, not taking your feelings into account, but we had an arrangement that worked for both of us. I never meant to-”
Possessed by fury, Kayn turned to him baring teeth like a beast.
“I WAS SEVENTEEN AND STARVING!”
“Kayn, wait-”
Next thing the guest knew, Kayn has closed his hand into a tight fist, that swung right to K’Sante’s face. Kayn punched him, with the joy of five years dreaming about it and all the other people he wanted to punch.
“ GET FUCKING LOST !” He yelled at his face. “DON’T YOU EVER FORGET I’M FUCKING INSANE!”
He gave his back before he did something worse and before K’Sante could react, but the man was much bigger from the gym than he was actually able to fight. And Kayn knew he wouldn’t dare to. Because those men only know power from their own words and from their own money.
When they can’t hold it against someone, they don’t have anything anymore.
***
Nestled in the shadow of the eastern mountains there was the discreet wooden gate, which a stone lantern lights with a flickering amber glow even in the daylight. Yone was arriving to a secluded tea house known only by word of mouth, bearing no sign. The world shifted as he stepped through the noren curtain in his socks, the city’s noise dissipating like steam off a porcelain cup, the air replaced by the scent of hinoki wood and roasted matcha. A hostess wearing a muted kimono bowed silently, her steps so quiet they didn’t seem to touch the tatami. Everything there was ritual, slow, intentional, immaculate. The interior was all warm cedar, paper screens, and ikebana arrangements, and through the open shoji panels, a private moss garden shimmered in dappled sunlight, some koi fishes drifting through a pond.
Yone smiled outside and screeched inside.
Why was that so different? It’s not like he’s a party hard all day type of guy; business meetings are all he does all the time.
But what he does all the time has also been way too much lately.
Thankfully for that mind full of thoughts it took the invitee not more than five minutes to arrive there, on time as always, so his mind could shift.
He was stronger than Yone remembered, but just as tall, in an all-black suit. He had taken out the face mask to show his ever so serious, yet peaceful expression, which was actually a good summary of his whole demeanor. While he was ten years older than Yone and rather formal, he had a very youthful haircut, with the sides shaved and longer strands on top, tied carefully back in a small ponytail. It all worked for him, maybe because of the confidence he wore altogether.
As he was approaching, his expression hasn’t changed, and Yone got up.
“It’s been a while since we’ve last spoken, Souma-san.” The faintest smile finally showed up in his face. He bowed slightly only, what seemed casual.
"Please, you can call me just Yone. Otherwise it feels strange for me, now. "
Yone bowed a little bit more than him, deliberately deferent.
“I bet it's been long that you've been away from home this time. You can leave out the suffixes with me as well. I hope I haven’t made you wait.”
“I have just arrived. Thank you for taking the time out of your schedule today, Shen, in the end of the year of all times. It will be compensated.”
Yone was back to sitting down on the floor cushions behind the short-legged table, followed by Shen.
“Don’t worry about it. I would meet you anyway. But I would hope for a better time, not because of the end of the year, but because of the whole situation. I’m deeply sorry about Mr Souma.”
I am not, Yone thought, but nodded and thanked.
“I appreciate it. I would love to have met you before it all happened as well, but you might wonder why I couldn’t.” Yone said in a lighthearted way even though probably Shen would only have an idea.
He wanted Shen to just believe more in whatever it was he already believed, because it would be easier to manipulate.
“Shieda Kayn must have been hard work.”, he said only, nodding.
“Sure. That, too, that’s for certain. My mother was concerned about my mental state.” But you already knew that, didn’t you? , Yone completed in his mind only. He was deliberately saying too much because he was trying to conclude whether Shen was part of the people his bother talked to about his latest trip to the hospital and its impacts.
“Probably she didn’t want to be alone, too. It’s a big house to be in alone, I think. You did well to come here now to be with them, a family must remain together.”, Shen said.
The conclusion for Yone was that he probably knew about that situation. He had the right words to say in order to get to his point, even if he had to straight up lie.
"Yeah. We need to support each other at this time, we are stronger together.”
As Yone saw the hostess approaching to serve them the tea, he let this sentence as the one brewing longer in Shen’s perception. Meanwhile, in front of them, the tea is not just a drink, but a performance, served in hand-fired ceramics from a kiln that predates the Edo period, whisked by a master who speaks little but whose every movement is poetry. The tea was poured slowly, reverently. He watched the rising steam and counted the seconds for his respectful cue to get back to talking.
Everything was way too long and way too pointless for him.
“As I was saying, I will bring you straight to the subject. I care for my mother enough to be aware that she is emotionally unstable. So I was happy when I saw you among my father’s lawyers, having something we can truly trust.”
Although Yone was confident that he was leading the conversation where he wanted it to be, and that Shen was buying it, it was hard to read his expression. He took his time to sip his tea unhurriedly.
“You seem anxious to talk about something, Yone. You can cut to the subject if you want.”
Maybe a twitch in Yone’s expression would give it away again, but he maintained his composure. He needed to still make Shen trust him. Thankfully the table was narrow enough for their hands to be close
“I do have things to talk about, but it’s nice to be here talking to you.” Gently his hand stroked the side of Shen’s. “I get sidetracked easily.”
One glance at their hands, and then Shen’s eyes finally locked on Yone’s. Always firm.
“It’s been a long time, right? And you look even more handsome than before.”
Oh, it’s hitting.
“I can say the same about you.”, Yone combed a lock of his hair to behind his ear.
“Then I have an offer: you say what you came here to say, and after you take it out of your chest, I can take you somewhere nicer after here. A little bit less traditional and a little bit fancier, is that still your style?”
Oh, that was a date offer. Shen is still very straightforward.
Yone smiled coyly and held his teacup to sip and buy himself some time to decide.
Shen was from a wealthy family of lawyers that are close to the Souma’s. Many times, when Yone’s was a teen, his eyes lingered in that young man in a family party or reunion, not being reciprocated. But when Yone was in Juilliard, he still spent his vacations in Japan with them.
And in one of those returns, he found out that the ever so serious lawyer knew little how to have fun.
So now that he needed more information on his parent’s finances, finding that Shen is also working on it fit like a glove. He didn’t want anything romantic with him; it’s just the way he works. He flirts with and charms whoever he wants, manipulates them and that was his field.
That was a problem, then why is his heart racing?
He had already sipped his tea, so he had to make a choice.
“Well… let’s get to the point first, then. I’ll be blunt, but I’m sure you’ll understand the need. I am worried because, assuming the current medical prognosis doesn’t improve, we also need to keep a right head and talk about finances. I’d like to talk a bit more about the succession strategies you’ve been exploring. Specifically, the ones aimed to streamlining the transfer of assets, minimizing exposure to taxation.”
"You're referring to estate planning instruments, right?”
“Yes.” Yone nodded.
“There have been paths we have considered. Offshoring, for instance. Reallocation through trust structures. The use of shell entities to fragment ownership prior to declaration of death can be quite efficient."
"I want to ensure liquidity, no probate delays. And no unnecessary entitlements... we could properly look into how my mother falls into this situation. Can we reframe inheritance as capital gain under a different name?"
“Like… into your name?”
“For now. I don’t want anything to do with my mother’s quota, I just don’t want our family to lose any money because she couldn’t hold fiduciary duty.”
Shen nodded.
“That’s for sure, but all that borders on aggressive tax avoidance. But if discretion is paramount, there are jurisdictions with less stringent disclosure requirements. Provided your father’s holdings are not entirely domestic, we have room to maneuver. We may work with it after New Year, if you’ll still be in Japan.”
“I will for as long as it’s necessary”, which I hope is the least possible amount of time. “Thank you so much. I knew we would reach a proper agreement.”
“You really got to the point. For an artist, you know your business terms. And I see you learned how to be quite... aggressive.”
Noticing he had indeed been too cold, Yone changed the tone, pace and words.
“My father supported me furthering into my business studies. And he wouldn’t want me to be weeping. He cared for the family’s heritage and wouldn’t say that preemptive asset restructuring and succession planning mechanisms are aggressive.”
“Indeed. And it’s a smart move. We would’ve thought that it was somewhat imprudent from Mr Souma to focus the studies of his son solely on music and art. Forgetting the family patrimony would be a mistake to be made. It’s good to see that it’s not the case.”
Yone nodded, smiling charmingly.
“I was sure you would understand. I’m glad I have someone I can trust on this.”
Shen smiled back softly.
“So, Yone, if we’ve come to an agreement…” he said calmly, direct as he can be. “May I take you somewhere else more private now?"
Chapter 53
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
While Kayn would assume he probably wasn’t that known in Japan, for never having much commercial interest in many events and concerts, he still kept the black face mask on just in case while he walked on the airport, even if still in the VIP areas. He didn’t have to walk through much of the airport anyway, because, even though he came alone and didn’t have a security guard, Yone had already arranged everything, as he does. The bilingual guide and escort and the transportation to their hotel, everything ready to reach him everywhere, so he didn’t have to give a second thought about anything. The echo of being alone reverberated way too many of his insecurities, and when everyone took care of him, he felt like the kid he wasn’t allowed to be. Why would Yone go through this much trouble with a boyfriend when it was all the same of his job?
Shaking the thoughts away, Kayn fidgeted with the loose strands of fabric of the rips in his jeans, then picking at his already chipped nail polish. As the moment to meet Yone was closer and closer, he had pulled himself out of the stream of hangovers and not only took a shower and brushed his teeth, but took his time to choose what to wear and painted his nails. Inside of the electric car everything was remarkably quiet, and so was even the guide, what he could only imagine to be a recommendation of Yone; he could almost see him telling the guy something like “just bring him to the hotel and only answer what he asks, Kayn isn’t exactly friendly.”
Outside, the very early morning glittered past the car window like a stream of tiny, perfect lies right before the start of a New Year. Neon kanji signs flickered above convenience stores and crowded arcades, the streets full of people laughing, rushing, shopping, moving like they knew exactly where they were supposed to be. Kayn leaned his temple against the cool glass and tried to tell himself he could feel the same.
Every time the car stopped at a red light, he caught glimpses of people in oversized coats and blinking headbands, couples sharing takoyaki under the haze of street lights, and tourists posing in front of winter illuminations like everything was worth remembering. The electric hum of the car barely filled the space, and even the guide kept his eyes ahead, wordless.
Even though he would be welcome for it before, right now it felt like the worst part. No distractions. Just himself, the city, and the yawning tension of almost being seen again.
He scratched at a corner of black polish until it flaked off completely. All the glittering signs and perfect storefronts blurred together in the window’s reflection. Even when the city was welcoming, everything felt like someone else’s party, and he wasn’t sure if he was showing up as a guest or as a problem, but anyway he already identified gladly with the latter.
When he saw Yone waiting for him outside, even if in the cold, the relief he felt was the problem itself. As breeze blew, the beautiful white hair fluttered around his face. Kayn didn’t know if he would be able to hold himself back from hugging him, and noticed he didn’t have any reasons to do so. Maybe in Japan people wouldn’t be so fond of dramatic displays of affection, but the only reason that would stop him would be if Yone didn’t seem to reciprocate. Still, he was out of the car and Yone opened not only a smile, but his arms.
So of course he would jump between them. And inside his hug, against the soft fabric of fancy winter clothes, Kayn took a deep breath of Yone’s warm, perfumed scent, everything he knew already, and for a moment it felt like a hit of cocaine, or any drug that made him forget about everything else that hurt.
“Damn.”
I really am addicted to you.
Yone knew that he should, more than anyone, be aware about decorum and what was the adequate posture to keep. But if there was something he noticed these last days, was that he really, really couldn’t do much with being the same old well-behaved Yone that had lived in Japan. And it wasn’t thanks to California, nor California’s fault. If anything, it was just how far he could be from all that, and how far he wanted to keep himself.
“I missed you, Kayn.” Yone’s words were another shot to his veins.
“I missed you, too.”
“Let’s go to our room already, hm?”
Yone stepped out of the hug and Kayn felt like he could growl, but the invitation had indeed been the only thing better than his hug, so he could deal with it. Yone turned to talk in Japanese with the staff of the hotel. There was an exchange of cordialities where Kayn would eventually conclude that Yone assured them that they didn’t need any help and that they could go by themselves to the room and take their luggage themselves.
Which he would soon be thankful for, as they were alone in the elevator.
“How was the trip?” Yone asked as soon as the door closed. "It’s a long one, isn't it?”
“Didn't even see it. I had a space brownie when I was in the airport, it started kicking as we took off and I woke up when we landed twelve hours later. Absolutely fantastic. I dreamt I was geese. In the plural.”
Yone laughed.
“You didn't bring it, did you?”
“Nah, don't want to get in trouble in a place where the law actually works.”
“You’ve grown.”
“Yep. Like a weed, by the way.” Kayn shrugged. “How have things worked out for you and mom?”
“I've been playing her game. I have too many things to manage now and she keeps holding me around for pointless dinners and random conversations. I don't buy it, but anyway."
“Are you sure she doesn't really just miss you? Maybe with the old man about to kick the bucket and all.”
Sighing, Yone hugged Kayn.
“Can we talk about all of this later? I really just want to be with you now.”
Yone's hand slid to the back pocket of Kayn’s jeans, grabbing a handful of his ass cheek.
Grunting, Kayn felt his body already too hot underneath these winter clothes.
“Don’t get me all riled up when right now because I will need a douche first.”
“You’re lucky I'm always ready.” By now Kayn sort of hated how true that was, or how true it played to be. But Yone had leaned in to speak into his ear and his deep voice into his ear saying obscenities made him forget everything else. “Ready, prepared and with the gold plug you gave me on your birthday already up my ass, ready for you to take it out and fill me up.”
Also as if he knew perfectly his cue in a well-rehearsed play, the elevator stopped in their floor and the doors opened for the small private corridor. Yone tugged him by the hand, impatient as he usually doesn’t show himself to be, and pushed the card to open the suite door for them to enter.
The suite didn’t feel like a hotel room so much as it did the idea of one, designed not to be lived in, but to be admired. Everything was impossibly quiet. The door opened with a hiss instead of a click, and the silence that followed had the weight of a recording studio, padded and complete, for him to sing songs he hadn’t written. Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed Tokyo sprawling outward in the first rays of the morning and, inside, every surface gleamed. The walls were a soft, matte charcoal, while the floors were made of dark wood polished to reflection. A massive bed sat at the center, tucked under linen sheets crisp as paper and a gray comforter folded back with geometric precision. There was decoration, but nothing too bold; some abstract prints just because they matched the curtains.
It was beautiful. Expensive. Clinical, ready to make Kayn feel aware of the mess he carried in with him. The pillows had that cloudlike softness that felt like a trap: too perfect to ruin, too inviting not to, and he looked at Yone, with the same thirst as he was stared back.
Yone just pushed the door closed, which locked itself, and released a huffed breath, taking his scarf and coat off and throwing on the first chair he had seen around.
“Thank fucking God", he purred, and next thing he was kissing Kayn, hastily sliding his hands under Kayn’s coat to take it off his body.
The singer smiled amidst the kiss, and once he dropped the piece of clothing on the floor, he pushed Yone against the wall beside the door.
“That’s my line.” His hands were on the buttons of Yone’s perfectly cut shirt, another thing he felt like ruining, yet held himself back from ripping it open, instead releasing button after button; with each one that he opened, he kissed the skin that was revealed, until he’s kneeling on the floor in front of Yone.
Yone leaned his head on the wall, swallowing hard; Kayn’s lips were already near his crotch and and kisses had already turned into bites, on skin or fabric of the trousers. His heart raced as he dug his fingers on the dark blue hair of Kayn’s; his hands tensed until he clenched his fists and pulled a handful. Meanwhile, Kayn’s hands were still sinfully on his thighs and grasping his hips, his lips just as fickle and indecent; his state of horniness only became more dizzying.
That was it. That was exactly it. He helped take out his own clothes, both the pants they were fumbling with and the shirt that had been hanging on his shoulders uselessly. Kayn wouldn’t complain that Yone was this horny already, but it came as a little bit of a surprise if he were to be honest. Thankfully again, the only thought he could hold on to was that he probably wasn’t too doped, so he was this responsive, and it was all good news. He didn’t have to think, he could just kiss the hard cock in front of his face and feel its throb against his tongue and the skin of his face until he himself is blinded by his own arousal.
“Get up already.” Yone said, squirming, tugging at the fabric of the long-sleeved T-shirt Kayn wore. Obliging wouldn’t be too much of a deal, and Kayn took it off already because it seemed to pain Yone. He grabbed his own belt and unbuckled it with a few impetuous movements, even while their bodies were so close together that their anxious breathing pressed their chests together. Yone’s half-open mouth didn't touch the singer’s; his warm breath insinuated itself over his face, like both relief and desperation, like taking a breath of air after diving too long, as if that was all he needed in the entire world right now.
Kayn’s pants fell to his knees and he wrapped his arms around Yone’s waist to grab his ass cheeks and spread them open.
“Aren't you such a slut right now?”, he reached out for the butt plug, growling provocatively.
“Yeah.” Yone wrapped his arms around his shoulders and hooked one leg around his waist, easing up any access. “Your slut.”
Kayn felt his knees tremble and when his fingers took off the plug, Yone moaned in what sounded less like whatever a slut could mean and more like some pagan sex goddess he was meant to worship on his knees. As those dexterous pianist hands pulled down his underwear, it felt like the blessing allowing him freedom.
No matter the position he was in, Yone was always in control, and that was just infuriating.
His mouth was gaping slightly to breathe heavily when Kayn pulled both Yone’s legs around his waist, forming a delicious fit. Their faces were at the same height and the singer made a point of staring directly into his agent's light green irises when he thrusted for the first time. Yone hissed “yes” so many times in a row it could’ve been a mantra, and Kayn had to remind himself of the eagerness inside of him not to be carried away.
Yone rolled his eyes and allowed himself to stare at the white, blank ceiling. Everything was too much, so much, yet exactly what he needed. Each time Kayn thrust into him, he forced his body harder against the wall. Between kisses, their eyes clamored, begged each other. And so the rhythm continued, his hips hitting Yone’s body with each thrust. His hands slid over the sweat-drenched muscles of Kayn’s chest, as he moaned wildly and begged obscenities; it took everything for Yone to control himself, so as not to finish too quickly, when he heard in Yone’s lust-drenched voice begging him to go harder, deeper and rougher.
“Hey, hey… please…” Holding Kayn’s face with both hands, Yone’s voice clamored to find him like a mermaid in the middle of the storm. “Put me on all fours and fuck me from behind…”
It wasn’t that it wasn’t good enough; it was that it felt too good with him pressed like that against his body, and Yone felt already about to come. Embraced, the friction seemed to burn and boil their bodies, which, increasingly intoxicated with pleasure, as they had moved against each other. And low, trembling moans, faster and faster, were consuming him too quickly.
When Kayn slid out of Yone’s body, he felt and looked like a raging fire, and when Yone was the one giving orders all the time, he didn’t get to ruin him like he wanted to right now. He kicked his pants out of the way and grabbed Yone by the waist like a doll, dragging him across the room until reaching the bed.
Kayn threw Yone onto the bed while he still had the taste of Kayn’s sweat still under his teeth, the heat of his skin still on his lips. Then he moaned once more, rolling his eyes and prepping himself up, face down and ass up, his prostrated face against the mattress causing another throbbing in Kayn’s cock and his mind, respectively in a literal and figurative way.
Not leaving time for any of them to recover, Kayn grabbed Yone by the waist, digging his fingers into his skin, and thrusted inside him again, hips slamming against his ass to rip out a blissfull moan from Yone’s throat.
“Is that what you want, Yone?”
The loud cry was enough of an answer, but he needed more. Somehow, more.
“Yes, yes, yes… Pull my hair, too…”
He pushed himself towards Kayn and rolled his hips, just because he didn't want to let him move away. The singer wrapped the soft, moisturized white hair around his hand and tugged it, hard enough to make him gasp and his eyes roll to the back of his skull.
It wasn’t that he always needed to be in control; it was that he didn’t want to be. He didn’t want to think anymore, and that was the only way he knew how by then. When he was so overwhelmed by Kayn’s presence that he has grown stupid.
"I… It's just... I don't want it to end already, Kayn.”
Kayn felt a sudden shortness of breath at that comment, and for a moment his chest felt hotter than the rest of his body, but the worst part was that it brought him to the edge with too much power to be actually able to be held back.
“Well, don’t expect me to stop, then.”, he still managed to groan, actually a little dazed, as he squeezed his eyes shut and let out visceral moans. He pushed himself harder and as the orgasm hit his body, he was trying his best not to just give out at how strong it felt. Even with his body shaking and his groin feeling incandescent, Kayn fucked Yone through his own orgasm and he made sure it felt cathartic. As he felt himself filled, torrid, delirious, Yone was arching his back to the point of snapping if possible, muscles tensing in little spasms; and, without stopping, just speeding up, the bed was swaying as they shuttled and moved together.
"Kayn, you..." Trying his best to see Kayn behind him, Yone smiled wide, breathing through his mouth, his slow voice hiccuping again and again. "...your dick feels so, so good..."
When he could gaze at that flushed face, Kayn's grin was twisted with delight. So he put his hands on the sheets, without stopping his hips from moving. He pressed his chest against Yone’s sweaty back, caressing his scalp before grasping his hair again to tug some more. Head jerked back, Yone felt the lips next to his ear, the voice everyone knew now delivered just for him in no more than a whisper.
"And you look so pretty taking it all so well like that."
Kayn pushed through his own exhaustion with the sheer power of rage, the only goal being ravaging Yone until there’s nothing else left but him; until all he remembers is his name, until he forgets the thousands of responsibilities, assets, provisions, terms & conditions, binding agreements, signatories, contracts. Everything that he doesn’t share because it’s non-disclosure, everything that he holds back from him because he can't allow the liability, and when he was that raw, that pathetically bare without a single thing to protect himself, Kayn noticed how much he resented it all. He wasn’t good enough to protect him, he wasn’t good enough to save him, he was barely good enough to help him; so he would be good enough to destroy him, even if for that single moment.
It worked exactly as planned for Yone, as most of his plans do. The friction between them seemed to trigger electric shocks from a perfect storm, and as it approached, Yone held his breath in the purest delirium, in that orgasm that seemed to be melting his muscles, dissolving his bones, boiling his blood. He felt his sight darken and he could have fainted in his dizziness. It was sublime to notice Yone didn’t have the decorum not to cry out in the middle of a hotel room, and that he didn’t have the posture anymore as his body went limp on the mattress, only Kayn’s hands keeping him still as he was a drooling, sweating mess on top of fancy hotel sheets.
In that moment, it was easy as well for Kayn to finally let go, and know that he was allowed both to fill him up some more and to also allow his body to come again and crash out this time. In that moment, all he though was that Yone twitching and whining like that was beautiful, so beautiful, like the horizon of a sunset you see every day, yet would never be able to touch.
He didn’t want it to stop, but it wasn’t a matter of choice. The rush of the orgasm made everything wonderful, and then exhaustion would set in. He allowed the moments to drag while he refused to pull out of Yone, but eventually every muscle in his body would feel mushy, and he would be too soft to keep trying to fight it. The overwhelming vulnerable feeling that follows was, way more often than not, bad news for Kayn, and he wasn’t sure that he would be able to fight the nameless guilt and the frightening clarity as he threw his body beside Yone on the bed.
“Fuck, Kayn...” Yone said simply, laughing, crawling on the sheets. His mind was spinning; he was actually dizzy. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to walk today.”
“You asked for it.” Kayn mumbled weakly with a whisper of voice. His eyes fixed on Yone’s red lips and flushed cheeks
Yone laughed some more, drowsily, breathless, turning over on his back.
“I did. I’m not complaining. Quite the opposite. Thank you for this.”
The singer, panting, dragged his body closer to Yone on the bed, and he lifted his arm so that Kayn could snuggle up next to him. Kayn rested his head on the other’s chest and wrapped his arm around his body, hugging him.
“And what’s that about?”, he muttered.
“What do you mean?”
“Why did you need me to rough you up like that?”
Yone sighed, and Kayn heard his heartbeats racing. It was hard to know if it was just because of the deep inhale or if there was another reason for that.
“I missed you.”
“Is that all?”
“And I’ve been sober today. I wanted us to properly party together.”
Kayn was the one who sighed this time.
“What are the plans, then?”
“Rooftop party and helicopter ride at midnight.”
Kayn lifted his body to look at his face again.
“Aren’t you a romantic?”
“I think we both should indulge.”, Yone smiled, caressing Kayn’s face.
“I don’t know about the ‘should’, but I won’t deny it anyway.”, the singer said as he inched closer to kiss his lover on the lips.
He thought that he didn't really want a party to begin with, but the moment alone could be beautiful. He wondered about the ring he happened to have kept with him and brought in this trip, and, o matter how romantic, for some reason it didn’t feel right to give it to him now, either.
Yone was so exhausted he would manage to fall asleep, not giving a second thought about the mess he was in and how hard it would be to clean himself later; just the fact he slept would be good enough, more than he could ask. No more words, no more conscience, just the heat of Kayn’s body until they have to wake up to get ready for the party. Not much time left for anything else.
***
It felt like the farther from the floor, the further into another reality entirely. That was where nothing mundane would be able to cross through the fog of mist machines, and the soft golden lights were pretending to be the stars that couldn’t be seen because if Tokyo's light pollution. Music pulsed just under the surface of the noise, heavy with bass.
When Kayn stepped out of the elevator, he felt it immediately, the way heads tilted. Not in full recognition – most of these people probably didn’t know him or cared – but in the way a predator notices movement in the dark. Something about him pulled focus, as he wasn’t meant to disappear.
He wore an asymmetrical black satin blazer, slashed and pinned at the chest with a silver chain, its lapel studded with jet stones that caught the light like broken glass. Underneath, a sheer mesh shirt revealed sharp collarbones and the glint of a single necklace. His pants were tucked into black boots with chrome accents and a heel just high enough to be defiant, his nails were still chipped, his eyes lined in smoky grey, while his expression was somewhere between bored and aggressive.
Next to him, Yone was every inch his opposite. He was tailored, controlled, mythic. He wore an ivory suit cut so precisely it could have been carved, with a high-collared black shirt buttoned all the way up, no tie, no need. The suit jacket caught hints of gold under the lights, its texture something between raw silk and liquid metal. His hair was tied low, loose at the nape in a way that looked effortless, but wasn’t. Unlike Kayn, Yone didn’t need to provoke attention. He drew it by sheer gravity.
They stepped forward together, past the bouncer with a nod from Yone; just a nod, not even a word. They glided into the slow, glittering chaos of the party, where staff in designer black glided between guests with trays of champagne and cocktails, and somewhere, behind a jungle of light installations and velvet rope, a DJ spun under a dome of abstract LED blooms.
As they passed, some from the crowd parted, just slightly. People glanced, then pretended not to stare. A model whispered something into her drink, someone from a K-pop group almost bumped into Kayn, did a double take, and moved quickly in the opposite direction.
Yone didn’t slow his pace. He moved with purpose, hand at Kayn’s back, anchoring. It was true that they didn’t need any party at all, but he convinced himself it was needed. He convinced himself that this was expected of New Year’s Eve, even when Kayn couldn’t care less about partying with random people like that. He did so because the silence was almost unbearable for him, and all he had to talk about were truths he didn’t want to face or masks that don’t work anymore with Kayn. But silence would echo like the corridors in his childhood house, and he was way too sober for that now.
“Well, let’s get the party started,” Yone said as a tray passed behind him, reaching out skillfully for two drinks, handing one to Kayn, who accepted. Fair enough, Kayn sighed, he wouldn’t bear much of it sober, even though he had to keep himself sane enough not to be swallowed whole by the music, the champagne shimmer, the rooftop wind that smelled like ozone and a new year trying to happen. But as he saw that Yone downed down his drink, his own tasted like fear and regret. For someone as traumatized as he is, trusting instincts was very hard, because everything was shaped as paranoia. Still, this time, he knew he had to not let himself go.
At first, it was subtle. Yone laughing a bit too freely at a joke, dancing a little bit too close, all drinks gone a bit too quickly and yet the magic of the party never allowed his hands to have a glass that wasn’t full in his hands. The glint in his eye shifted from polished control to something brighter, sharper, just shy of reckless.
Kayn watched from a few feet away, nursing a single cocktail that mostly existed to keep people from offering him another. Parties like these bored him into pretending to answer messages that didn’t exist. But now he was focused on Yone, who had drifted toward the edge of the rooftop garden installation, talking to two people who clearly had no idea who he was but were hanging on every word because his suit screamed money and power.
Yone tipped his head back, laughing again, this time louder. His hair had come loose in the front, just a little, and his usually sharp expression was blunted, warmer, but in a way that looked unbalanced. He tossed the rest of his drink back, then reached for another off a tray without breaking stride in his sentence. Kayn caught the way his hand missed slightly and had to adjust.
Yeah, no. He’s not tipsy. He’s drunk.
And worse, he is slipping.
Yone carried stress like a tailored suit, seamless. He was always so goddamn in control and he liked to pretend that he never faltered.
Kayn moved. By the time he reached Yone’s side, the other two had been charmed out of their souls and were politely trying to extricate themselves. Kayn slipped between them with a smile that didn’t touch his eyes.
“Mind if I borrow him?” he said smoothly, already sliding an arm around Yone’s waist.
Yone blinked at him, slow, and let himself be taken away from the crowd. They moved behind one of the garden structures, the city scattered open behind them in light and sound. Kayn turned him gently, pressing his back to the wall. Yone let it happen, eyes glassy, mouth drawn tight as if the reality of it was only now catching up to him.
“Hey, babe… Sorry, did I take too long? Didn’t mean to leave you aside.”
Kayn combed Yone’s loose hair to behind this
“We should leave already, okay? I think it’s enough already.”
“But- no, come on… It’s not even…” Yone looked at his watch and had to focus so much to properly tell the time. “...eleven?"
“Yeah, and you’re fucking wasted already.”
The way Kayn said it immediately offended Yone, who frowned.
“So what? I’m fine . I’m just- I’m having fun, why aren’t you? Who’s the fucking boring cop now, huh?” He laughed, and in another situation, he could have a point. Kayn wouldn’t mind having him shitfaced, he had every right to do so, to cause him as much trouble as he could.
“It’s okay if you’re drunk,” Kayn said, low and sharp in his ear, his hand steady now on Yone’s hip, bringing him together now to guide him out of sightlines. “But not here.”
“Who fucking cares about who sees me here?” He stumbled out of Kayn’s grip, but te singer wrapped his hand around his manager’s wrist.
“I don’t know, you didn’t tell me who you know here, why it’s important and why you chose this party. You didn’t tell me shit.” It was hard not to let the resentment bleed through his words as he pulled Yone by the wrist to the elevator.
“Why are you angry?”
“I’m not angry.”, I’m worried.
Too late; it had already rubbed Yone the wrong way, and he pulled his arm to break from Kayn’s touch.
“Can’t you FOR ONCE just let me relax a little bit? If you’re having a bad time, have you ever, EVER thought of just sucking it up to let me enjoy myself just a little bit?”
“No, I can’t do that, Yone! Because this is not the way for you! Do you remember you overdosed like a fucking week ago because you had been drinking and popping pills?”
Yone rolled his eyes, huffing.
“Oh, I should’ve seen it coming. It was taking way too long for you to shove it in my face.”
“Can we have this discussion out of here?” Kayn growled, between teeth, trying his best not to snap because it was useless. “We have to wait for the fucking helicopter in the other building.”
Kayn didn’t want to get into any stupid helicopter, and he was decided that none of them would. But if that worked to get him away from that crowd and maybe to their hotel room already, be it. Yone was stepping hard, finally furious, finally not so right anymore, finally human in front of him, and it would be amazing if it wasn’t an absolute mess right now.
“You’re so annoying, Kayn.” He leaned with one shoulder on the elevator door. “You’re entitled, selfish, messy, you’re a fucking trainwreck.”
“I prefer to be called a little bratty bitch, if you mind.” Trying to shield himself with sarcasm the best he knew how, Kayn stared at the door as it opened, holding Yone by the arm.
They got to the private lobby in a hushed, opulent transition between worlds. Unlike the rooftop’s curated glamour, this space was cooler, quieter, like stepping inside the lungs of the building. Everything here was designed not to impress, but to reassure: that yes, you were important enough to pass through unnoticed. The staff near the was very discreet as they handed them their possessions and coats. They asked if he wanted a car, and at Kayn’s nod in agreement, they already proceeded to calling one.
Yone was hovering around Kayn, his eyes never fixating in a single place, and it looked like there was so much happening inside his mind that all he knew how to reach was the bitter taste in his mouth. Before they made a scene in the lobby, Kayn guided him to the entrance where the car would pick them up.
Yone leaned against the cool stone of the wall, one ankle crossed over the other, head tipped back, his profile all shadows and restraint pulled tight like piano wire.
“You know, you can’t take anything seriously for even a fucking second. I have to be running around you, all I ever do is take care of you.” Yone said, the words slurring slightly, quiet but bitter. “You’re terrible, you’re a mess.”
“I have a degrading kink, Yone. I love being a poor little thing that feels sorry for himself. You keep cursing at me like that and I’ll get hard in a minute.”
Outside, a sleek electric black sedan rolled up with no engine growl, just a low glide, like the building itself had conjured it. And within that, Yone laughed. Out loud, like nothing there allowed, like he wasn’t supposed to, but they are paying, so they can do whatever they want. The concierge would open the back doors of the vehicle, and Yone would stumble in, weak from the drinks and from the laughter.
Once inside, Yone tilted his head back and sighed. Kayn gave the name of the hotel and Kayn closed the window of communication with the driver.
As soon as that, Yone was hugging Kayn.
And he was crying.
“All that, Kayn, and I love you more than anything in the world. You’re a fucking mess and you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, because I don’t, I’m not even good enough to be a mess. The only thing that’s… the only thing that’s deep in every single dirty, fucked up thing I do.”
Caught by surprise, Kayn’s heart broke little by little. It was the alcohol, for sure, but it hurt even more that this was the only way that Yone could allow him in.
“You can cry, Yone, but let it go now.”
Still clung to Kayn’s shoulders like a lost child, face buried in his neck, Yone confessed.
“I hooked up with someone this week. A lawyer.”
Fear spreaded throughout Kayn’s body like he’s been frozen. Everything in his world felt crumbling down and he had to call himself to reality.
It wasn’t that serious. It didn’t mean he was alone again. Yone was there with him. That was just what he did. That was just what they did.
“Well, are we even now? After I did it with Ahri.”
It made Yone cry harder.
“No, it’s… I needed something from him. He, he knows the stuff from my family’s assets, he could, I thought-...” Yone was sobbing at that point, and his words were stumbling down. “I did what I always do, it was just business for me, but it was, he, I felt so fucking dirty, I feel… I can’t do this anymore.”
“That’s okay, Yone. Don’t beat yourself up over this. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
Yone pulled his head back, trying to search for Kayn’s face.
“You’re not angry?”
As their eyes met, it felt like meeting for the first time. The first time he met a Yone that actually looked lost. And he had to protect him, even if he had a knife to his back. Even if he pushed the blade all the way to his heart, Kayn would hug him until his lungs were filled with blood.
If Kayn said it didn’t hurt like a bitch, he would be lying. But he couldn’t afford to lose his mind now, and he held both his own hands together to keep them from shaking.
“You don’t want to leave me, do you?”
“I don’t! I’m sorry…”
“So that’s it. We’re all the same. I’m not leaving you.”
Another sob, and Yone was back again to hugging Kayn. Tight. Like a log he needed not to drown in the river.
“I don’t want to do this anymore, Kayn. I don’t. I’m tired. I fuck people for a money I don’t care about just because I should, just because that’s all I can do. My father is about to die and all I’m thinking about is taking all his fucking money to get revenge on my mother because she never loved me, they never loved me. I’m no more than a, I’m a baby, I’m a lost kid that wants his only friend back. I want my brother back, I want-... I want you to never leave me, too, and I don't know why I would be enough to keep you alive." Even if holding on for dear life, i felt like the current was drowning him. Every stream pushing him deeper than the other, his body crashing in the rocks, and as he sniffed every wet breath from his desperate crying, it felt like he tried to reach for the surface and there wasn’t enough air. "But I can’t do this anymore, I’m so, I’m so fucking tired, Kayn… I’m shallow as a fucking shower and I don’t know if I’m anything besides these suits I wear and I-..."
“Yone.”
They had disentangled from the hug and all he saw was Kayn’s beautiful face in front of him, and he could breathe in again. He forgot everything he had said, or he just hadn't even manage to keep record.
“Uh?”
“I love you. I don’t want to do this anymore either, Yone. But whatever I do, I want to do with you.”
Yone’s hands fisted Kayn’s clothes, tugging at them.
“I’m never going to leave you. But I- I need help.”
“I’m here, Yone. I'm not going anywhere. I can take it all for you now, if you let me.”
Nodding, Yone cried a bit more and the end of the night unfolded like a predictable drunk nightmare. Some nonsense was said else, and he threw up in the car. Midnight would come with Kayn putting Yone under the shower in their hotel room, and nothing of that would matter. Not the New Year, not having to take care of him, he would do it a million times if needed and then a million times more, and he would be thankful if that were the rest of his life, because it means they’re still together.
The only thing that truly hurt was that Kayn wasn't sure Yone would remember all of that. And he wondered if, once sober, remembering it or not, he would still be the one Yone would ask help for, and the one who would be chosen to pick up his pieces and finally, finally help him once and for all.
Notes:
Thank you all so much for the patience, the latest chapters have been a bit harder to craft and I worked with them for a longer time until being sure of how I wanted to convey the meanings and deliver the story, so they have been very spaced. I think I got the gist of it and I hope the chapters can be delivered quicker. But anyway, I just wanted to make you all sure that I'm not abandoning this story at all. I hope you've enjoyed. See you!
Chapter Text
Morning would come like the wreckage of a boat crashing on the shore.
For Yone, dragging himself out of the shipwreck of a hangover just meant an usual Tuesday, until it didn’t. Nausea came with the first teary blink of his awakened eyes, and he wished dizziness would plunge him back to darkness. Instead, clarity, in the shape of knowable thoughts and faint sunlight.
Everything that happened in the last day of the year until then was mushed and jumbled in the same chaotic mix; not having anything safe anymore inside his memories brought Yone a jolt of anxiety and he sat down suddenly, what was a bad idea both for the ringing headache and the wavy sickness he bore inside himself. He was inside the hotel room in Tokyo he had reserved for him and Kayn. Too white of a room, too bright surroundings; he was thankful for at least the matte charcoal of the walls and the dark wood of the floor.
Sitting on a massaging reclining chair that was on, the low sound of vibration murmuring on his perception, there was Kayn. He was barefoot, wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt, his phone in one hand and an elegant dark blue menu in the other. He took off his earphones and already started speaking.
“Thank God you’re awake already. I had no idea what any of these stuff are in the menu and I’m fucking starving.” Kayn was reading the menu. “‘Junsai and Yuba with Tosazu Jelly’? None of these words were said by Our Lord and Savior White Jesus, of that I’m sure.”
Yone was still frowning, breathing heavily, trying to process what had happened. Meanwhile, Kayn kept on speaking.
“I was searching what it was and ‘gelatinous waterweed with tofu skin and fish-flavored vinegar jelly’ also doesn’t do me anything. Again, trying not to be an Americunt but if you slept for half an hour more I’d be ordering us both Wendy’s.”
Yone covered his face with his hands, groaning.
Now that was it.
He screwed it up. Finally, it seems.
“What?” Looking properly at Yone and his dejected reaction, Kayn lowered the menu, leaving it on his lap. “Was the experience of having a Wendy’s too traumatic for you? Sorry for bringing this up, I should’ve put a trigger warning first.”
Kayn always did that, joking around after something went terribly wrong. It didn’t mean, not at all, that he wasn’t affected by what happened. So Yone lowered his hands and his voice.
“Kayn, I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
Kayn chuckled.
“For making a little drunk mess or for letting me see it?” Kayn shrugged as Yone rubbed his eyes, sighing, and spoke again before the other would answer. “You shouldn’t be sorry for either.”
“Still, I am. I- I fucked it up and I think I owe you some explanations.”
“You don’t owe me shit.” Kayn switched off the massage setting on the chair.
“No, I do. I brought you all the way here for us to have a different experience together and I absolutelt ruined our New Year’s eve because I was out of control and just too senseless to even-”
“Yone, I mean it, you don’t owe me anything. If you want to sulk, be my guest, but it would be better to spare me the moral hangover. You cried on my shoulder and threw up on my shoes, that’s all, no biggie. When I was the one freaking out drunk I pointed a gun at you and then at my own head. If we start counting I’ll be indebted to you for life. So relax about it.”
Yone knew the nausea he felt wasn’t all from the hangover.
“It’s not about me getting drunk and making a scene… or not only that, at least.”
Kayn got up from the chair.
“I know. And I hold my case.” He sighed, and walked the few steps to the bed, under Yone’s tired, vulnerable gaze. Reaching out for his face, he kissed his forehead, and stared into the jade eyes. “But… When you’re feeling better, yeah, I do think we should talk.”
Yone lowered his eyes, but nodded.
“Yeah. I do, too. We have to."
“Just not with the sorry mindset, will we?”
He nodded. He wanted to wish Kayn a happy new year, but how could he do it without sounding scornful at least?
Sighing, he got up and Kayn changed the subject back to the breakfast they could order, and Yone helped him out with what he thought would be the best food for them. He then headed the to the bathroom, doubled down thoughts around half memories being all that flooded his mind. The moment he crossed the door, however, he immediately had to face his reflection on the wide mirror by the bathroom sink. He was wearing only Kayn’s T-Shirt, and it would almost make him smile. He probably had just preferred to pick something easier to put on him; there were faint memories of him taking out his probably vomit-stained clothes and putting him under a hot shower. His hair was a mess and his face was a bit swollen. He felt dizzy, dehydrated and that was just physically. Morally, yeah, it was way worse.
He could conclude he didn’t have to be carried on Kayn’s arms to the bedroom, but he could remember he had to be guided and everything else was dizzy and foggy. He knows that he insulted Kayn, and he can’t remember him insulting back. He remembered crying, and even though he didn’t quite grasp what he had been crying about, it wasn’t too hard to conclude, even when it was hard to admit.
And he was pretty sure he told Kayn about Shen.
It would be cozier and more convenient if Yone hated being with him, that not a single part of him enjoyed it because he was way too in love for that. But the tragedy was exactly that it wasn’t that bad to find someone who was secure, who spoke his mind, who decided things for him and his decisions were wise, endearing. Yone had allowed himself to be courted, every smile a bait, every touch a charm, he dropped breadcrumbs behind himself to make sure he was followed through the maze, and it was easy to have someone else to be in control of everything while he plays coy and baits him properly. It was enthralling, listening to a voice that was of someone who’d already won, confidence seamless as the very expensive suit he were, a calm not passive, but a leash. As he took him to the date, as his lips touched him, as their bodies were pressed to each other, Shen ruled not with volume, but with gravity, and still Yone could play the moon; soft, evocative, and impossible to ignore.
It was very comfortable, so very comfortable. Not a wasted movement, not enough rage to make him miss anything at all.
And that was why it bored him to death.
It was pleasurable, and, exactly for that, despicable.
He wanted Kayn’s mess more than anything, because it was in the splinters of his broken self that he could see the only shine that mattered now. He wanted him to take his frustration out on him, because it’s the only thing that can give meaning to his flawless world. It was only imperfect that was worth it, and Kayn was as far from perfection as one gets without moving away from brilliance.
Still, it made Yone notice how much he, also, just wanted peace. A peace that he doesn’t have a frame for, so it was one he had found in pills, in being numb enough to power through everything wrong he’s ever done. And that numbness was one that he didn’t want to lose; Kayn was the sole reason he considered it.
Inside the bedroom, Kayn had thrown his body on the bed and had been staring at the ceiling all that time. He felt exhausted, because he had freaked out a bit about everything after leaving Yone sleeping safe, and overall he had slept terribly that night. Even when he managed to doze off, he woke up within nightmares that startled him, enough to make him wake up in cold sweat in the middle of the night having to hug Yone. Playing it cool was what he did his whole life, but everyone knows that he isn’t able to do it that well anymore.
Breakfast was awkwardly silent, with two people whose shared silence usually isn’t awkward at all. The comments on the food were bland, even for such tasty breakfast as the one they shared. They looked comfortable, sitting barefoot on the bed, but it far from actually being comfortable. Both were trying to muster the courage for the conversation that was about to happen; and when it finally did, it tasted both like relief and sorrow.
Yone was the first one to speak, as he left his plate on the room service cart.
“So. I think I remember a few things from what I said yesterday that I want to address properly. If I forgot something, you’re free to bring it up as well.”
Kayn sighed deeply, leaning his back on the headboard of the bed.
“Hit me up.”
“And let me apopogize for what I think I should, okay?”
“Sure.”
Yone took a deep breath. He didn’t sit down on the bed again, instead walking some steps here and there.
“I want to start with the most recent events and then move through the parts that really matter. What happened yesterday was a series of bad choices, choices I made in an effort to shut myself down, to numb what I didn’t want to deal with. I’m not going to give excuses, but I know you’re aware of the reasons behind it. I’ve been running on empty for a while now, exhaustion, stress I thought I could handle, things I thought I had under control. Turns out, I didn’t. Especially when it comes to family, it affects me more than I usually admit. You sort of said that what happened last night didn’t matter to you, but it does. I was drunk, I ruined what should’ve been a good night for both of us. I got aggressive, I said things that hurt you, and you had to be the one cleaning up the mess I made. You shouldn’t have had to do that. So, for that, I’m sorry.”
Kayn snorted.
“That was very eloquent. Amazing PR statement as always, perfect for the press conference."
Taken aback by such reaction, Yone frowned.
“What? Are you implying I’m lying to you?”
“Nop. I don’t think you’re lying, but you definitely sound like my agent, not my partner. I just think it needs a little soul, you know? To convince the audience.”
It didn’t seem that Yone could properly grasp it, even if he understood it.
“What did I do wrong?”
Then Kayn sighed.
“Nothing, as always. You never do anything wrong, and even when you do, you have everything to back it up. I hate it when you’re the porcelain ballerina in some fancy music box. You’re so much more than that.”
Yone looked away, biting his lip. Trying to access his feelings was way harder than giving a speech to thousands of people.
“I’m… I don’t know what you want from me.”
“Tell me how you’re feeling, Yone. Not what you’re supposed to say, not the meticulous report on everything you did wrong and the contingency plan you came up with. I know this isn’t all you have to say.”
Yone snorted, looking away and turning back to him with a frown.
“So, if you know everything, why won’t you speak first? It seems like you already knows what I’m supposed to say, so tell me! At least you can stop being passive-aggressive at least!”
Yone didn’t mean to be this aggressive, but feeling without filter meant having to let something out.
“No, by any means, I don’t have anything better to show you, like, at all. And I’m not being passive-agressive now, but I agree that it’s a first, so I’ll give you that.” He held the gaze with Yone. “But you cried on my shoulder yesterday because being drunk makes everythig bigger, yes, but you desperately needed this release. This is why I don’t want to accept your apologies. You did what you needed to do.”
“Maybe I did need to vent, but that’s not the point. I fucked things up and offended you, Kayn.”
“No, you said some stuff to me. You told me I’m a mess, that I’m selfish, etcetera. It’s not offensive, it’s the very least. Even for a drunk you were polished. Maybe that was what you needed at that moment, that’s the least of the problems. Do you want to talk about what’s actually the problem? About the reason why you needed it?”
This time, Yone sat on the edge of the bed in front of Kayn. His body would be turned the other way, so he allowed himself to stare at the dark wall for some moments before speaking.
Kayn waited. He watched as Yone crossed his legs and arms, and he wouldn’t even be frustrated that the body language meant so clearly that he didn’t want too open up or that he felt uncomfortable with the vulnerability. Because Yone was so skilled at that, that he could even control his body language in order to control the situation. So now it meant that he wasn’t trying to do so.
Yone didn’t know where to start, but he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t know what was wrong. They had been talking about that for a long time. That he needed vacations, that he needed therapy, that he needed a treatment. Relinquish control like that felt like losing his only shield. The silence now wasn’t awkward, but for him it felt suffocating. Everything that wanted out but he didn’t want to be released choking halfway in his tight throat.
Eventually, he released a loud breath, and took his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes. Hands dropped back to his thighs, he sighed once.
“I’m tired, Kayn.”
The sentence was the only thing said for a little while.
“You should be,” was also the only answer Kayn would give.
Some quietness more, to make breathing and heartbeats louder.
“I fucked up. I’m in too deep into all that, I try to do the shit I know how, but I don’t know if I have anything else left if I don’t. If I can’t play these cards, if I can’t do my thing, what else do I have?”
It would even be funny, if Kayn didn’t know he meant it, him saying he doesn’t have anything else left. It was as if the comet itself thought it was a firefly. But he bit his lower lip not to speak now, because it wasn’t his turn. And what was about to follow would definitely make him struggle.
“I saw an opportunity with someone I knew already. He was a friend of the family and a lawyer that had too much contact. We already knew each other from when I went back to Japan for vacation, when I was still in Juilliard.”
“I don’t need the details.”, Kayn’s voice came out strangled.
“But it was safe, I don’t do it unprotected if not with y-” Yone turned to him, and he stopped as he saw how distressed Kayn looked. His breath was short and his hands were gripping hard his own wrists in a tight lock.
“I’m not angry at you, I don’t even have the right to be. But I don’t want to know more about it. I can’t give you the same grace you gave me with Ahri, I’m not as strong as you are.”
“It didn’t mean anything to me. But maybe I really just wanted to prove to myself that I could, that there was something to control in all that is going on. This is why I’m sorry. I told myself it was just another thing I do, but I knew it could hurt you.”
Kayn’s breath shallowed and he buried his face in his hands, bursting out.
“It’s not that. You playing your regular bedroom diplomat doesn’t begin to worry me as much as- fuck, you know what, I probably wouldn’t even care if you kept your open-door policy as long as you’re safe, but you feel, you feel so distant , Yone. I know it’s on me, I know how much you had to do to keep me safe, and I haven’t been safe for you at all. Quite the opposite. But you-...”
This time, as the voice cracked, it was the sound of the dam breaking, and his eyes couldn’t help flooding. But he stood his ground, and locked eyes with Yone.
“You almost killed yourself, Yone. And then you flew to the other side of the world for some manipulation tactics and contract binding or whatever, to nest with the mom you basically call a snake and to fuck some rich lawyer. You have me in the palm of your hand and still no matter how much I reach out I can’t hold it back. I can’t- I don’t have anything to make someone like you stay, and it shouldn’t be for me. But you-... you need to stay. You need to live.”
“Kayn…” Yone reached out for his hand, but Kayn was far from being done. The flood in his eyes overflew and tears rolled down his face. Focus was hard to find, so he didn’t look right into his eyes as he confessed, eyes darting around because he needed to recollect some memories.
“You got me to stay. Do you remember what you said to me? Now you need to allow yourself to be loved, you need to believe. Not because you should, but because it's what you have left and what could be worth it all. It is, Yone. Loving is worth it. Just because… just because it is. It has saved me once, but I didn’t see it. I lost it. I won’t let it happen again. I won’t let you slip away. If you’re better off with someone else-”
“Kayn, don’t.” Now it was Yone who interrupted him. No matter how much he may be needing to vent, what it looked like was that he was spiralling into despair. “I’m not better with anyone else. And even if I were, I don’t know what ‘better’ could mean in this way. I don’t want to be comforted, I don't want any of this business shit anymore, I want you with all you have. I did all I did because it was worth it. I chose you, I choose you.”
It was easier to carry the world on his shoulders than to hold the weigh of that gaze, so it faltered; but temptingly Kayn glanced back again and again.
“Again it’s you who’s consoling me.”, bitterly, he muttered, a tight throat.
Yone sighed.
“No. It’s not. Please, just-... let me.”
Slowly, like something fragile and exhausted, he reached out and wrapped his arms around Kayn. Nothing more comes out, not any more polished words, not more of his perfectly crafted discourse. So it felt like uncharted territory, even with the uncountable times they’ve held each other. It was the echo of the silence, pressed up against skin and breath.
Then Kayn feels it, the way Yone grips him, not with hunger or desperation, but with total surrender. Not just holding him, he’s clinging to the only thing that might still keep him from sinking.
And Kayn understood, so he held him back. He didn't speak again, and he didn't pull away. He just wrapped his arms around Yone in return, like settling a blanket over a trembling animal cub on the side of the road. And, this time, he held Yone as long as it’s needed.
Yone’s breath catched once. Then again. Barely a hiccup, and he had to be brave not to shut down again.
“Go on.”, Kayn murmured to guide him towards the mist, towards the unknown. He, the master of puppets, would have to look at his own hands and every move he incited.
Last night, everything was happening at the same time, the numbing in his lips the same as the one in his chest, while still being oversensitive. He felt it all, yet nothing properly; emotions reacted to his brain going berzerk with alcohol and neurotransitters all so blissfuly deranged. Last night, if he cried, he still wouldn’t be able to see it all properly.
I need help. Right now, he was doomed to see it, or destined to see it, if he didn’t look away. It came with no sobs, or not just yet. Just a tremor through his chest. A stuttering inhale. A sound caught between breath and voice. And then it all came unspooling from the middle of him, tears soaking into Kayn’s shirt, a body stiff with shame finally shaking loose.
There’s no beautiful collapse. He couldn’t keep himself in control and still really weep. It was messy, and raw, and real, the kind of crying that’s been delayed for years, maybe for his whole life. His legs locked together and didn’t dare to release; his arms stay tight enough to make it hard for Kayn to even move. But his chest opens. His body folds. And in Kayn’s arms, as both lied on their sides on the mattress inside each other’s arms, he didn’t try to hide.
He was finally close enough. And as they had been inside themselves so many times, this felt like the first time Yone lets himself be held, in every sense of the word. He held him not like a lifeline, but like he’s finally willing to let go into the holding. When the sobs come, it’s just what had to be done.
And Kayn, for once, doesn’t move, doesn’t burn, doesn’t retreat. There’s no joke to be made, and nothing to be asked. He can be an anchor, and he knew that if he stood strong enough, he can do more than destroying. Yone dived, not into Kayn, not into grief, but into himself. Into the ocean of everything he’d locked up, guilt, sorrow, longing, shame.
Everything felt as insurmountable as the Pacific Ocean, which is pacific by name only, like he is. He's seen it from both sides. In California, it’s warm sun and harsh edges; in Japan, reverence and quiet vastness.
In California, the waves came loud, fast, unrelenting, like everything was trying to crash just to prove it was alive. Like people crashing on fentanyl on the streets like statues of decay, or him crashing into the floor of the bathroom of his seaside mansion vomiting the pills he took. On the sand, the beautiful tanned bodies on the private beaches or the homeless people they tried to remove, or the same ocean he had watched with Kayn.
In Japan, the Pacific felt like something older, stiller, way more complex than he’s ever dared to be. It just stretched forever, quietly reminding him of his own smallness like the the corridors in the mansion of his childhood home.
And then, after enough fighting the waves, in that place, he dives.
He doesn’t beg for air.
He doesn’t fight the current.
It’s dark and deep and endless, but the waves don’t crash. The panic is gone, but the pressure remains, the gravity of truth. He just lets himself exist beneath the surface. He breathes; not like someone calming down, but like someone finally allowed to be alive.
Time was very meaningless at that point, even though he knew it took him forever to go through that. Only when the breath didn’t have a wet song any longer, and when he had been stroking Yone’s hair for a while, that Kayn finally spoke.
“Took you long enough.”
Yone laughed once, in what looked and felt more like a cough. He had always imagined grief like a tsunami, sudden, loud, obliterating. But now it felt like a deep current pulling beneath. Not to drown him. Just to show him how far he’d gone without ever touching the floor.
“You know, Yone? We have enough money already. Let’s spend it together doing shrooms in the Caribbean. I know I’m too unstable to promise forever, but we don’t have to. We just have to live a little before the world ends. For ourselves.”
Another silence, because Yone wanted to list all the reasons why he shouldn’t and they couldn’t. But, instead, he tried to remember the other times he agreed with it, and he took a deep breath of Kayn’s warmth.
“That… really sounds good.”
“That’s good, because I told K’Sante I quit already. And I punched him in the face later for being a groomer.”
Yone got up immediately from Kayn’s arms and stared at his face.
“Excuse me?”
“I have absolutely no regrets.”
Yone blinked several times.
“You see, this is why I really can’t leave you alone for a week,”, he sat down facing the other.
“Probably not, so you better not leave me at all.”
“Kayn, are you being serious?”
“The most serious I’ll ever get.”
It made Yone restless, but even he would agree that not nearly restless as he probably should be.
“You can’t just walk away, not like that. You're under binding contract with the label for more albums, and there are clauses in there that tie you to promotional work, appearances, even social engagement metrics. If you pull out now, it's breach of contract, and they'll sue, not just for the advances, but for projected losses.”
“Won’t K’Sante have to pay you and bitch Evelynn a fuckton of money for insurance? It’s going to be fun. It was even your original plan!”
“It’s different now! Other labels will see you as a liability, sponsors too. If you want out, we have to do it strategically, and it’s going to take time. Everything you’ve worked so hard to get, it will be gone just like that. You can go completely bankrupt.”
“I can, but I have a sugar daddy to back me up. You know, my boyfriend is a heir and he’s going to get a lot of money from this.”
Yone sighed, and then he dropped his body back on the mattress.
Again, and again, he was tired .
Seen from beneath, Kayn’s sweet smile and caring mismatched eyes was peaceful, and worth ruining everything for.
“We’ll talk more about that, then.”
Kayn smiled wider, and bent slightly to press a kiss to his lips. A soft one, to be worth a seal.
“Happy New Year, babe. This time, it will mean a new beginning.”
The smile in Yone’s lips made it clear he thought about it way more than it was needed for someone to just automatically answer a holiday wish. The smirk it turned into gave away that he was up to something.
“Grab your phone.”
Kayn frowned, but obeyed, finding the phone among the sheets.
“My face must be all swollen, but I think my hair is enough to show who you are with, isn’t it? You can tag me.”
Yone clung to Kayn’s shoulders and buried his face on his neck. Kayn still didn’t know exactly what to do.
“Go on, take the picture. Your followers must be waiting for your New Year wishes in all your social media.”
It made Kayn feel stupid when he finally understood that what Yone meant with it all was to take a picture of them to post so that everyone, the whole world, would have the official confirmation that they are together, no holding back anymore. And while he was smiling wide and opening the camera app, he would feel another gentle kiss under his ear and hear into it the softest whisper:
“Happy New Year, Kayn. I love you.”
Yone would be tackled and covered full of kisses before they could take any proper picture. But the picture would be taken. And it would be posted, with the captions being “hoping everyone is also celebrating with who they love, whoever that is. Happy New Year, Shadowers. Happy New Year, Yone. I love you.”
Chapter 55
Notes:
The chapter has a different vibe to it, but I think it's a needed one nevertheless. I hope you like it anyway. See you!
Chapter Text
In New York, Neeko and Nidalee were still in the middle of the New Year’s Eve party; which was turning out to be absolutely perfect in the most chaotic way. They somehow ended up at this random rock gig in a basement with their friends, where they stumbled into last minute by accident, which turned out kind of magical. There was cheap drinks flowing, the guitars were loud as hell, glitter was everywhere (like, it’s going to haunt their hairs and their sheets for months and that’s honestly kind of great). And in that moment, somehow, they were all on stage doing impromptu karaoke to Kayn and Pentakill songs, screaming into the mic with a drag queen drummer who wasn’t even supposed to perform tonight but was absolutely killing it .
The night felt like something they’ll want to remember all year. Everyone was sweaty and laughing and talking like they’ve known each other forever, and Neeko knew that she was kind of drunk, but it was hard not to feel like it was beautiful and she was hoping they’ll actually be friends after this. Nidalee always found it absolutely cute how her already sweetpie of a girlfriend turns into a cuddle monster when she drinks, hugging everyone and declaring love to all her friends and even some of the people she just met. Deep down, she also hoped to have made some more permanent friends that night.
Around 3 a.m., when the party was still on but they were getting kind of tired, they were leaning on each other on a sofa. Neeko had her phone in hand for the first time in that night, following back the drummer on her socials, when she simply jolted at something she saw and let out a small squeal before immediately clapping a hand over her mouth. Not loud enough to startle anyone too far, but definitely enough for the people nearby to turn their heads. Her eyes were wide, sparkling, already scanning the screen again like she couldn’t believe it was real.
“What is it, love?” Nidalee said, but she wouldn’t even need to, because next thing Neeko would shove the phone on her face, overly excited.
"Look at this, look at this, look at this!" she chirped, practically vibrating as Nidalee had to hold her hand to steady the phone and actually see what she was talking about.
The image they saw was a selfie that Kayn had just posted. But he wasn’t alone. He was laying on a bed, smiling softly to the camera, and while one hand was holding the phone for the picture, the other is cradling the long, white hair of the man that is cuddling beside him and whose face is nestled beside his, sort of hiding between him and the pillow.
hoping everyone is also celebrating with who they love, whoever that is
Happy New Year, Shadowers.
Happy New Year, Yone. I love you.
Nidalee felt the heat in her chest her heart warming and she stared at it for a while. There was such softness in his smile and Yone’s hand was touching his face with all the tenderness. That was love. They could read it, and they could see it.
Throughout the years they’ve been Shadowers, they had never seen Kayn announce to be together with anyone. Before that year, actually, it looked like they were trying to hide his sexuality by making him go out with some models publicly for some weeks before they are never seen together again. With the Heartsteel documentary, they got to see that, even though he never mentioned the word bisexual or pansexual, he made it clear that he liked women, but was was not only into them. It was hard not to think that maybe he was in love with his best friend Ezreal, even though it was clear that they weren’t a couple at the time, in that devastating story that broke their hearts and made them cry so much.
The whole Heartsteel story, however tragic, showed how queer they actually were. The Shadowers were in general very friendly towards this, but it was a turning point to see who was actually an ally and celebrated this diversity and who was still a bigot that couldn’t be following Kayn anymore. Because now all queer fans felt seen, even if in such a sad story like Ezreal’s; still, it had a metallic, bitter taste to it.
Now the taste was sweet, even if not perfectly. It tasted of acceptance, of hope, maybe even of healing.
She looked away from the picture because her attention was brought to Neeko sobbing beside her.
“I’m… I can’t believe they finally made it official! They- they are such a beautiful couple and Yone is so good for Kayn and we all saw how much better he’s getting even when everything was going downhill and the thing with the video and-” whatever it was that Neeko meant to say, it was hardly understandable when she started babbling among her crying and the loud music.
Nidalee put the phone in her jacket pocket and hugged her for all the time she needed. She held Neeko throughout her incoherent speech and she couldn’t stop smiling. She wondered if Kayn had any idea the effect he had, and how meaningful that had been. They knew how hard it was for a celebrity, even nowadays when it seems it’s trivial. They met each other because of him, they kissed for the first time in his concert, and now they are still together enjoying a party with many of his songs, in the beginning of another year as his fans.
“Hey. He is celebrating with who he loves, and so are we.” Nidalee said by her ear, and then released the hug slowly, cupping her face to make her big, pretty eyes gaze back at her. “Thanks to him, right?”
As Nidalee wiped the mascara-stained tears on her face, Neeko felt like she could be about to burst in joy.
“I hope they are as happy as we feel, too.” Neeko confessed, and her smile opened wider. “Happy new year, lioness”, she said before pressing their lips together, wishing it to her, to them, to Yone and Kayn, to their new and old friends, and to every other queer couple that she knew needed it.
***
In another time fuse, it was almost noon on January 1st. The sunlight, harsh and golden, casted no shadow deep enough to hide in, and silence was broken only by wind and distant falcons. The desert stretched around Evelynn in miles of golden dunes swallowing the horizon. Her eyes were lost on the blue from above mirrored on the infinity pool before her, the surface so still it was hard to notice where the water ends and the sky begins. Heat shimmered in lazy waves, but she laid motionless, reclined on a lounger and barefoot on the cool stone of a shaded pavilion, high enough to feel detached from the land she’d leased for silence. It was a hyperbole, a deliberate one, to be as far from anyone as she possibly could for New Year’s Eve; and if anything could provide that, probably a Saudi Arabian desert would, all with the necessary amount of exaggeration.
The iced matcha sat on the small round table beside her, untouched for long minutes, pale green with swirls of silver leaf and a single jasmine petal floating on top. Beside it, her phone, which wasn’t supposed to vibrate today, but it did.
She sighed deeply, taking out her triangular sunglasses.
“Someone better be dead.”, she whispered, and for many people she thought that it would be good news and that it would spare her the trouble of contracting the hit. It was a text from Akali, but even before seeing the sender she could already imagine it would be about Kayn somehow, because who or what else would be able to annoy her this much even during her vacations?
Her stiletto nails clicked across the glass of the screen to see some more unfoldings of his and Yone’s love life. Ocher eyes rolled back as she saw the picture that Kayn posted and the New Year wishes.
The game had been fun at first, then Yone turned it into a game she didn’t want to lose. Which had been, too, fun, in the beginning. Now he was winning that game and it wasn’t making her outraged; it was making her bored.
Yone played her, she had to admit. Very few men could do it, and even if they did, nobody would’ve been as skilled as he was. She had seriously thought of revenge when she found out about how he ruined the whole documentary thing to twist it his own way, and the fucker still managed to do a real good job at it, playing all in and showing his hand. The results were that Kayn’s popularity was in an all-time high in every progressive groups that support trans and queer people, mostly now that those people really feel like they need it the most.
She couldn’t care less.
Yone does all that, then flies to Japan to be under the protection of his very conservative family, and then throws another one their way with that New Year’s post.
At the very least, it had better worked out for Alune, her brother and her brother-in-law, because she would make sure to ruin everywhere they try a career or business at; or at least until she finds something else to do with her time and that also bores her. But that insane love affair between Yone and Kayn was now kind of all over the place as well.
It was just annoying. She was about to call their bluff to see how much they are actually willing to pay, but, at that point, what she really wanted was to not have anything to do with this mess anymore.
He wins, whatever that means. But she’ll get her money, the one they started this whole agency and management story over, whatever it takes. So, when Yone comes back to Los Angeles, they would have to have a really important meeting.
***
The car slowed in silence as the wrought-iron gates opened to a driveway lined with trees. Yone stared ahead, jaw locked, but next to him, Kayn shifted forward in his seat, sunglasses still on, mouth already parted in an impressed half-smirk.
“Man,” Kayn muttered, low and drawn out. “I knew you were like rich rich , but this place looks like a damn imperial palace.”
Yone didn’t respond. Now, as they passed under the camphor trees, Kayn leaned his head on the window. After spending the whole first day of the year sleeping together inside that hotel in Tokyo, they decided on their next moves.
They had a lot of work to do with Kayn’s plans of leaving the record company, and there was still a lot to deal with the outcomes from the PARANOIA release. But mostly Yone had to bring priority to himself. So what they came to was that they had to wrap it up with Yone’s parents, taking care of everything needed so he can come back to what he could more easily call a home; even if not quite, it was still better than where they were heading now.
Now they were in Yone’s childhood home, if there was anything homey in it at all. They were entering it together, because that was how they were supposed to face it. If Kayn couldn’t take the weight out of Yone’s shoulder no matter how much he wanted it, he had to be there to share it, and take it the best he could.
Shaking his leg, Kayn continued.
“This driveway’s longer than my whole neighborhood growing up. You sure your family isn't secretly royalty?” He lowered his voice playfully. “Or Yakuza?”
Yone let out a short breath through his nose, not quite a laugh.
Kayn’s jokes usually get more relentless as he gets nervous, so Yone reached out for his hand.
To soothe which of them, the question would remain open.
“It doesn’t have to be either for it all to be outrageous.”
The house came into view, austere and enormous, wrapped in wood and stone and silence. Kayn’s steps slowed as they exited the car, sneakers quiet against the stone path. The air smelled faintly of camellias and something herbal and clean, like tea and rain. The heavy wood of the doors creaked faintly, just like it always had, but for the first time for Kayn. He took his sunglasses off slowly and watched as two uniformed staff stepped out to open the doors, their bows practiced, their motions seamless, and he asked Yone to tell them he would rather carry his backpack himself.
Inside, the genkan stretched longer than Kayn’s living room. Yone slipped his shoes off without thought and stepped into black house slippers; Kayn followed his lead, lifting one eyebrow as he slid out of his limited-edition Jordans thinking that these floors could blind someone with that polish.
The silence inside was total, except for the distant trickle of water from a tsukubai outside, and the barely audible hum of the air between shoji and washi walls. Kayn’s gaze darted from one painted fusuma to the next, all elegant cranes and plum blossoms. He didn’t comment, but he didn’t joke, either.
They walked down the main corridor. Every detail was perfection, but to Yone it all felt like overdesigned emptiness, one he sort of knew well at heart, but that took new shapes and colors.
Maybe he had dreamed once, as a child, that when he got rich, that it would feel like this kind of powerful. Cold enough for nobody to touch him, huge enough for nobody to see him, where his own voice would echo through rooms of stone walls instead of being suppressed by other people’s screams.
Yone glanced sideways at him, Kayn didn’t meet his gaze. He was watching the light filter through the shoji screen, brushing his fingers over the frame, as if testing whether it was real.
But he was wondering how someone with a childhood so diametrically opposite to his was probably just as lonely as he was.
They reached the grand staircase, the hinoki wood now aged into a rich, honeyed tone. Kayn slid his hands into his pockets, glancing once more at the vastness of the place, the silence pressing down on him like the weight of history. It was too ornate, too formal, too carefully preserved to hold real memory.
“I’d love to sell all of this to the highest bidder,” Yone shared with Kayn a thought he had before.
Beside him, Kayn chuckled.
“Bet we could get a documentary out of that sale, too. ‘Rich Heir Sells Ancestral Mansion to Finally Drop That DJ Set From 2009 and Find Emotional Closure’. Or something. I’m bad at titles.”
Yone actually laughed this time, and it was sharp echoing through those walls. It felt wrong to laugh there, and, because of that, Kayn wished he’d do it more.
“Would you be able to deal with me traveling to Ibiza every month as a resident headliner?”
“Bold of you to imagine I wouldn’t also be in the fiesta on a lot of molly showing my tits to the DJ.”
Yone snorted, and the smile dared to remain for some time. He didn’t know if he truly considered being a DJ anymore, but the materiality of those musings weren’t the point. The point was that the thought of leaving it all behind didn’t feel like rebellion anymore. It felt like air.
As they reached the second floor, however, air was held back in Yone’s lungs as he saw his mother. Her posture was immaculate, hands lightly folded in front of her, and the fact that she was actually wearing a dove-grey kimono and a perfectly lacquered bun gleaming under the soft ambient light was like she really meant to be part of the architecture. From a distance, she looked serene, elegant, refined, untouched by time. But up close, as they approached, there was something about the way she watched them, eyes unreadable behind the faintest suggestion of a smile, that made it feel like crossing a threshold you wouldn’t be allowed to step back from. Even Kayn, whose whole personality seemed designed to bounce off judgment, hesitated for a second, as if instinctively adjusting his posture under her gaze. She had that power and he had felt it before.
“Welcome back, Yone.” Her voice, when it came, in English, would be as soft as the shōji panels and just as thinly veiled. She nodded to Kayn, as if deliberately keeping herself from bowing. “Welcome, Kayn. We meet again.”
When they were arranging that visit, Kayn had thought she would try to forbid him from visiting his house, or that she would exert power in any way to toss him out, but Yone warned that she would probably be passive-aggressive and manipulative instead. And it felt like even being aware of that wouldn’t make it any easier to deal with.
“Thank you for having me over, Mrs. Souma.”, Kayn said only, and bowed slightly.
“Happy New Year, mother", Yone said as well, in what sounded very formal somehow.
“Shall we meet in the living room? I had some tea prepared for you two.”
The walk down the hallway was silent if not for their steps, way too loud. Kayn thought he would be driven insane inside there if he had to remain too long. The long corridors made him wonder of his breath was too loud as well, shortened by nervousness.
They reached what Yone knew to be a smaller, more intimate living room. As most of the house except for his bedroom, it was exactly as Yone remembered it. There were tatami mats stretched across the floor, a sculpted table at its center and a few carefully placed cushions. A single scroll of calligraphy hung in the alcove and the air smelled faintly of incense, old wood and the scent of the gyokuro tea, that for Kayn just smelled foreign, faintly bitter, and expensive.
Mrs. Souma entered ahead of them. She gestured with one hand for them to sit, her other already folded neatly over her lap again as she knelt at the head of the room.
“Please, be at ease,” she said as if she knew it was the only thing they couldn’t. Or it was paranoia. It was probably paranoia, Kayn thought as he he glanced at Yone. He followed his lead and sat cross-legged on the cushion beside him. He tried not to notice too much how his usual black streetwear clashed hard with the room’s subtle earth tones. His arms were inked and bare, and Mrs. Souma’s gaze flicked to them, barely, making him wonder if he was supposed to lean them on the table like he did.
“It is always a pleasure to receive guests, even ones who are… unfamiliar with our customs.”
There it goes. Kayn smirked, the kind that looked casual to strangers but that Yone knew to be his shield.
“Your home’s incredible. It’s like-” he paused, reconsidering the words ancient art museum “-like stepping into something sacred.”
She tilted her head just slightly.
“I suppose that is one way to see it.” She reached out to the teapot to serve them, something Yone knew she didn’t do so it actually felt even more off. “Though sacred things are not always… understood by outsiders.”
Yone spoke up before Kayn could.
“We’re grateful to be received, mother. I was afraid you wouldn’t want us here, but I'm satisfied in being wrong.”
“Like I’ve told you before, son, we’re in a situation we should be able to be together.” She began to pour the tea with slow, practiced grace, each movement a lesson in restraint. Her smile didn’t move, but her eyes landed on him like a weight. “I was surprised you accepted to come here, and that you came back, even if you bring someone else with you. I know how busy your life is now, with your music, your travel… your new attachments. I do wonder, how one finds clarity in such… unconventional lifestyles. What do you say about it, Kayn?”
Surprised the question was for him, Kayn tilted his head slightly, not quite frowning, not quite smiling.
“I think we find clarity because of it, actually.”
“How interesting.” Mrs. Souma passed him a teacup with both hands, her nails immaculate against the porcelain. “Clarity is often mistaken for chaos, especially when one is very young. It’s easy to be confident on the mistakes we make.”
Kayn accepted the cup, but didn’t drink yet. Yone was the one who answered for him.
“It’s a choice to be made. Don’t you wonder sometimes where your life would be if you continued your career as a ballerina? You have always been skilled enough as a pianist and a singer as well.”
She closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head slowly as she handed Yone his cup of tea as well.
“My dearest Yone. How could I, as a jewel my parents crafted, try my chances on the hands of whoever I pleased? I knew my place.”
“Has it paid off for you? Maybe now that Father is not around anymore?”
She took her time to serve his own cup of tea and only answered after she placed the teapot back again on the table.
“I see that you’re very comfortable to discuss family matters in front of our guest. Would you care to disclose why it is?”
Even if she said so, she was still speaking English, so she wasn’t really trying to keep anything she was saying from Kayn. It looked very deliberate, just as expected.
Yone nodded.
“Yes. We’re together, as a couple.”
She just smiled, knowingly.
“You’ve always been quite spiteful, Yone. It’s the one thing your father would’ve despised the most in his life, so it’s not any of a wonder that it's exactly what you’ve chosen.”
“It does come as a relief for me that I don’t match his dating expectations, considering he’s someone who chose to marry someone almost twenty years younger than him to have a couple of kids he never dared have a single proper conversation with.”
Kayn widened his eyes and drank from his tea to prevent himself from laughing. It was mostly out of nervousness, yes, but that had been savage .
It didn’t seem to have affected Mrs Souma.
“Well, Kayn is much younger than you are, isn’t he, son? Seven years, five months and some days, am I right?”
The way she put it, with such weird accuracy, made it clear that she had been researching about Kayn or had someone do it for her.
“Indeed. Although I wasn’t actively searching, it just happened.”
“I would suppose. After all, it’s not recommended to be dating someone you’re working with, much less for, and I am sure you wouldn’t be unprofessional to this point if not for being overwhelmed with the uncontrollable whims of the heart.” She said before sipping her tea, and Kayn wondered how much she knew at that point. What a dangerous woman.
“Anyway, mother. We aren’t here to discuss my love life.”
“I also would suppose.” She said within a deep, deliberate sigh, before he could continue. “I wished you were here to visit your comatose father, but probably you want to discuss the inheritance for when he’s gone. Otherwise, I’m sure you wouldn’t have been talking to Shen. A committed man shouldn’t be talking to an old boyfriend, but it wouldn’t be a problem if it’s the family lawyer, right?”
Kayn almost sneered. She was doing it so purposefully. If they hadn’t talked about that lawyer Shen before, probably it could turn into a fight between the two of them.
“Shen has never been a boyfriend of mine, but you would’ve known about it if you cared about my life besides the point of controlling it. Unlike Kayn, who actually knows my relationship with him.” Yone’s voice was angrier as he continued, and Kayn wondered if he would be able to keep his cool when he’s so overwhelmed and family is such a complicated thing to deal. “You have nothing to control me over anymore. This is why I don’t feel guilty at the very least to be here only for business.”
As her clear eyes sharpened, she switched back to Japanese to keep Kayn from the conversation.
“You speak badly of us, but your father, he could have erased you from the will. With the kind of life you’re living, bringing shame to our name like this, you should have at least been socially disowned. Even so, he didn’t let you go. He told me many times ‘That boy, he is a man of business. He will protect our money better than anyone.’ And yet, you went behind our backs, trying to make deals with our lawyer.”
Yone made a point of keeping speaking in English.
“What is your goal, mother? What did you want me back here for, even if you had to go through legal ways of bringing me here?”
“Because that was what he wanted.”, she continued, still in Japanese. “He wanted you to take his place in his business. We are family, we should stick together to make sure that the family businesses will keep on thriving.”
“We are family, but we aren’t supposed to stick together just for that. And you’re better than I could possibly be with managing everything. You were by his side all this time, you know way more than I possibly could.”
She looked confused. Kayn was watching, not sipping on his tea anymore because he really didn’t like the taste, but it could be symbolic if he did.
“What?”
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think of finding a way of securing your money, making you see who is controlling who, but thankfully it all happened for the space of what I’d call a manic episode to have less liability. So I was already on the brink when I thought of talking to Shen. The last weeks were just me trying to have control over what I can’t. I don’t really want any of this, or at least not any more than what’s rightfully mine. About the assets and the patrimony, you’re smarter than I am, more capable and more responsible. You’re still very young, now you can travel, build your own empire, marry again. You should be the head of business. We both know you have always been the one behind it all all along.
“You think they’ll respect me enough for that?”
“If they don’t, you show them who’s boss. You know how to do it. You had father wrapped around your finger.”
She shook her head slowly.
“The superstar lifestyle has really contaminated you with this reckless speech. You’ll destroy your life within months and you’ll leave nothing to your name, not even a son to carry it.”
“Maybe. Probably, even. But maybe I’ll also live a little. You should try it as well.”
She sighed deeply, frowning, and finally seemed to have aknowledged Kayn’s presence again. The question was directly to him, in English again, as her jade eyes pierced through him.
“You do understand that, under Japanese law and under our current arrangement, you won’t have anything from us, don’t you?”
Kayn shrugged, even if he didn’t mean to be dismissive.
“I don’t want anything from your heritage, Mrs. If we ever marry, I’ll make sure to make a prenuptial agreement that keeps all this very explicitly with your family.” Kayn gestured around with a finger. “With all due respect, both me and Yone have built our own wealth. Maybe not as big as yours, that’s for sure, but enough for neither of us to have to beg.”
“We came here only for this, mother.” Yone added. “To let you know I’m not coming back, to finish whatever is needed for succession, and to let you know who I’m with.”
She turned her attention to the window beside her, where the afternoon light was beginning to fade into amber. Another sigh, and she clasped her hands above her thighs.
“Well, Yone… Could I ask you to at least make one last visit to your father, for closure?” Her eyes laid on Kayn. “Just me and my son.”
Kayn didn’t interfere, neither agreeing nor denying. He didn’t care the least about whether he would be allowed there or not, all it mattered was what Yone wanted from that.
The estranged Souma heir just nodded “Yes. Let's go there.”
***
Even for the very few times Yone was allowed to peek into that room, the corners of those memories were warm with silk drapes and aged bookshelves. Now those were behind the equipments of a quiet clinic. Monitors blinked beside the bed, measuring vitals. IV lines trailed into his arm, secured with white tape that contrasted against the liver-spotted skin. An ECG ticked steadily in the background, its green light reflecting faintly on the polished floors.
Mr. Souma laid motionless on the center of the huge bed, which was in the center of the grand master suite, everything seeming too far from him, just as reality did. His once-sharp features had softened with time and stillness; skin pale, lips dry, jaw slightly slack under the oxygen mask that hissed gently with each artificial breath.
A team of specialists had set up camp here weeks ago, private doctors speaking in low, clipped voices as they reviewed charts at a portable station by the window. The scent of antiseptic hung faintly beneath the perfume of old wood, unable to fully erase the traces of the room’s former life.
Yone stopped by the foot of the bed, feeling as if he was the most ghostly of it all. Everything was state-of-the-art. Everything had been brought to his father. But the man himself, Mr. Souma, once formidable, once feared, was a silent figure now for all the wrong reasons, floating somewhere far beyond the reach of machines or money. Fragile. Human.
He didn’t know what to say, much less what to feel. It was a man he had never been close to, but now he felt like a melting wax figure of every fear he had.
Beside him, Mrs Souma stood, for long moments without saying a word.
“Thank you for coming, son.” She whispered, at a certain point.
Yone didn’t look at her, his father a fading figure in his blurry sight from a way too out of focus man.
“It’s not something to thank me for.”
“I know. You’re cunning, you came here to try to get something out of it. But I’m the one who taught you, so no hard feelings.” She nudged him with her elbow.
Yone got to chuckle.
It was probably true, at least to some extent.
Many more moments of stillness and quietness followed with way too many thoughts to be even put in order by someone who was just overflowing with them, until Yone raised his voice again. That time, to the normal volume, no longer a whisper.
“You know, mother… we don’t have to be silent anymore. You don’t. And you shouldn't.”
He turned to her serene face. She glanced at him, then blinked slowly and her eyes rested back on her husband. As she answered, she wasn't hushing anymore either, but she didn't adress this subject exactly. Instead, she brought something else up.
“Did you know that he didn’t want you to go to Juilliard?”
“Well, I wasn’t dying to go to Juilliard either.”
But she was smiling.
“You wanted out of here, didn’t you? That was your way.”
Yone turned to her.
“You want to tell me you convinced him?”
She cocked her brows, the smile now a cocky smirk on her face. Again, Yone had to chuckle.
Of course she did. That man on the bed did everything she told him to, directly or not.
The problem was that Yone would never know if she was telling him the truth. She could be saying all that for his sympathy, the way she does, even when he couldn’t see what she could gain from that. And maybe it was also just a technique when she slid one hand around his arm, holding it, and inched closer, leaning her head on his shoulder and sighing.
“I wish your brother was here with us.”
When her voice cracked, Yone breathed a broken sigh, feeling his throat tighten. A part of him wanted to scoff and tell her ‘Yasuo hated the man more than I do.’ A part of him wanted to hug her and tell her ‘me too, mom. More than anything now.”
So he met it halfway, and didn’t say anything. It was the way they taught him, in the end. It could be for respect, even if one last time. Or because he didn’t have anything left he should say for now.
Chapter 56
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Not for the first time even in that day, let alone in those eternal three months since they left Japan, Kayn was distracted enough among towers of cardboard boxes to lose sense of time and space, like rehearsing dissociation but without properly reaching it. Some boxes were branded, some scribbled over with marker, half of them leaned at odd angles, tape peeling, clothes spilling out in wrinkled heaps. A couple of expensive sneakers stuck out from one, their soles still spotless, as they’d never touched the ground. Some stuff was going to go to the charity giveaways and auctions. Some other was just going to stay there for the next person who’ll buy the house. Staff moved in and out with efficient detachment, bubble-wrapping art prints and sliding designer jackets onto rolling racks. The floor was littered with torn packing tape, crumpled paper, and the occasional pen someone had dropped mid-list.
The bed was stripped bare, the gray sheets tossed into a laundry bag on the floor, and Kayn was sitting directly on the bed. His eyes were straight on the slightly mismatched tile that was used to replace the one he broke, under which he had hidden the gun he had planned to kill himself with.
There were many memories in there. Too many, probably. Leaving it would be good. The room’s clean, curated edges were drowned under the noise of departure. It had never truly been home, but now it wasn’t even glamorous; just an expensive mess in transition, stripped of the calm it once pretended to hold.
“Kayn?” A clear, strong feminine voice was heard near the door made him jolt, startled. He turned to see Akali entering
“Hey!” He shook his head to bring himself to the present moment, what really was hard. “Whatcha doing here?”
“Heard you were to be taken to the woman supposed to fix your head.” She spun her car keys in her index finger. “I need to talk to you about some stuff, so I’ll take you there.”
Kayn took his phone out of the pocket. Yeah, it was almost time. It was telling that he was almost missing the time, but his driver would probably show up if he didn’t go down the stairs.
“Coming to pick me up yourself, babygirl? What an honor!” He walked towards her, protecting his own vulnerability behind his usual irony.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Yeah. Sorry. I won’t. It was just a joke.”
“What?”
“Yeah, you’re a fucking awesome producer, a badass girlboss and my beloved manager and agent. I can’t call you that. It is kinda patronizing.”
She stared as if Kayn grew a pair of horns, while they walked.
“What the fuck? What has Yone given you?”
“A whole lotta dick. Enough for me not to miss him so much while he’s away. This type of thing changes someone as a person. Oh, sorry. I’m being phallocentric to a lesbian. Tell me, is it inherently sexist or am I being trans-inclusive? You know I’m a trans ally icon now, so, please, can you help me deconstruct myself?”
“You’re an ass.”, she rolled her eyes, but she had a little smile on her lips nevertheless. It could be way, way worse.
“Not only that, but also a brat, a dick and a babyboy.” He counted the names on his fingers.
“You’re twenty-four, Kayn. You’ve already hit twink death, don’t embarrass yourself.”
“Oh, so is this why I’m so much more mature now? I’ve evolved as a person?”
“I can’t wait to take you to the person who’s actually heavily well paid to listen to you.”
Kayn kept shielding himself with the smirk he wore, but he was a little tired for the constant sarcasm. It wasn’t as fun as nagging Yone about anything, that’s for sure.
I can’t wait to see him again.
Three months after New Year, Kayn was there, inside that car with Akali, traveling through the streets of Los Angeles, looking at the in the scraggly folds of the Hollywood Hills, where the white letters stood.
HOLLYWOOD.
Didn’t glow, didn’t loom, didn’t even try, lowercase in spirit, same thing, same time, next week again. The letters looked smaller from here, compressed by distance and perspective, a leftover piece of something that once mattered, either to him or to anyone whatsoever.
Akali was driving him to the telling him about him participating on a podcast, about his next shows, the auctions and the giveaways, and that he had some of her staff now sorting out his fan mail as he had asked, so he’d have to go through a lot of stuff.
There was way too much to sort through that he didn’t care about, and fan mail wasn’t one of it. Maybe it would be the best.
Not being able to see the other side doesn't mean that there's nothing at all. It means that there are cracks that are keeping you from seeing it.
So he said the right words, and he was nice to Akali, and he walked his way to the eleventh floor of the glass-fronted office building.
Hard work is boring. And it’s every day. Forever, or better still, as long as you’re alive.
He was there for his therapist assignment.
There was the possibility for him to have the therapist go to his house instead, surely; but a part of him told him that he should be leaving the house for that.
The waiting room was reserved for him, however. So he was there, alone, and being alone for those weeks felt like his curse.
Sometimes, swimming for inexplicably long is scarier than drowning.
Nobody wants to be depressed, but being depressed at least is certain. Way more than trying something out, and doing it all while depressed. You have to be at least a little delusional to be happy in this world. And the thing is, that’s okay. Said world will keep spinning whether you smile or cry, whether you breathe or bleed.
He couldn’t decide if it was worse to look at the colorful abstract art and the water fountain inside the weirdly cozy waiting room or at the sad, almost illegible letters on the dry hillside, surrounded by bushes that hadn’t seen real rain in a while, behind chain-link fences and surveillance cameras, the ones you can see from the parking lot of a mall if you squint past the palm trees. Maybe if he looked up, he could see a dot in a clear blue sky and wonder which hawk it is, even if he didn’t know anything at all about birds. Down below, the traffic sucks in the most expensive zip codes or where drug addicts lay. Inside, he has a fucking appointment. As he did last week, as he will next week.
This time, though, he had something to look up for. Something he sort of wanted to talk about.
Not a minute late, the door from the office opened. The blonde woman who was his therapist had a calming smile, even when Kayn knew he was about to have his shit knocked up in the next hour or so.
“Good morning, Kayn. Let’s go?”
Breathing in deeply, he got up and nodded, trying his best to smile, and he followed her silently until he’s inside the therapist’s office. There is a divan there, but he wasn’t invited to sit there, and he didn’t know how, so he was still sitting on the comfortable armchair parallel to her, and he did the same in that day. He still looked at her deep blue eyes and her infuriatingly calm face. Inside, the smell of lavender was welcoming, and the light was dim and comfortable, but the little table beside him had water and tissues for when the hurt begins.
“How have you been feeling?”
She smiled, and she had nothing in her hand to keep notes on, still she remembered every single thing Kayn had said somehow. She had an open stance, welcoming as well, and her hands laid on her lap without tension. Pretty much the opposite of Kayn, who could feel his own body tense as he even heard her question. That was the type of question that could feel innocuous at first, but Kayn already knew it could in some minutes end up kind of destroying him.
“Same old, same old. Packing my stuff. There’s so much stuff I didn’t even know was there.”
“Dis you find anything too hard to pack?”
“Not really. Maybe Ezreal’s box, but I’ve left it safe in Yone’s house before someone could throw it away. Everything else. Akali is going for some charity auctions giveaway.”
“Do you want to talk about the box?”
“No, not now.”
She nodded slowly.
“In your time. So, you’re still staying at Yone’s house, right?”
“Yes.”
“How has it been for you, being alone there for now, for still one more week?”
“I’m just like a dog on the door waiting for him. Finally I’ll go to Switzerland on the weekend.”
Many times, the therapist didn’t make more questions when Kayn insisted on not saying too much. She let the uncomfortable silence linger until he is pushed to say something. But then, she was inquiring him a little bit more.
“It’s supposed to be his discharge from the rehab, right? How are you feeling as that day comes?”
“Excited. I miss him. You know that already. I know he's doing a lot of work to keep it together, he's good at that.”
“You always sound certain about his strength. You’ve seen him fight to hold things together before. But I’m curious… when you picture him walking out of there today, after all this work, what’s the very first thing you feel in your body? Not the thought, the feeling itself.”
It takes Kayn a moment to answer. That shit of trying to feel stuff in his body was a very annoying exercise, but maybe all exercises are annoying.
“Hm… Like a rush. I think it's this excitement I talked about, but also I may be a little nervous. Kinda afraid.”
“That mix makes sense. Excitement is the pull forward, the hope, the joy. Nervousness is the tremor underneath, the ‘what if’ voice. They can sit together in the same chest. If you let yourself, could you stay with both of them for a moment? Just breathe into that rush, without trying to push either one away.”
Even if always annoyed, Kayn does as said. He takes a deep breath while looking at the abstract art on the wall, one that he had wondered before if it was an inkblot for a Rorschach test. He had seen a bath or a moth, a mask or a face. But for now, he let his sight lose focus for a moment, and the silence settle for more than it was comfortable. Then, he speaks.
“It's... it's been some rough couple of months. I've... You know that, I've never had a relationship like that. We've been together for months now and that's new for me. We went through hell together, we fell hard, and now we... you know, it's…” The sentences were broken by some short breaths because finding the words was hard. “Yeah, we have work to do.” He chuckled, biting the inner lip in his grin.
“It’s not new for us that this relationship has already carried you through fire and still kept you both standing. That’s no small thing. The way you talk about it now, the pauses, your grin, what you said before… It's like you’re holding both the weight of what you’ve been through and the hope of what’s next. When you say ‘we have work to do,’ it doesn’t sound like dread… it sounds like you’re ready to keep building. Am I correct?”
“I guess.” He snorted, the smile trembling a bit. “I'm... we did good these months. Everyone knows we’re together now, ever since the first day of the year. We faced his mother and we’re a couple for her as well, whether she likes it or not. We came back to L.A., he resigned as my manager and I’m working with Akali. We’re working well, even though she doesn’t know everything yet. I still want to quit, no matter how much K’Sante tries to buy us, it’s even kind of funny to see him so desperate prancing around us. Yone even threatened him saying that if anything happens to any of us, he has a file ready to leak about things he did.” Kayn chuckled, eyes a bit lost somewhere in the room, as he spoke. “He’s always been good with things. For now, Evelynn isn’t in our asses anymore because she has the promise that she’ll get what she wants, which is always money. I have meetings with Akali, with my lawyer LeBlanc, and I’m… I’m holding on. We did what we had to so he could go to rehab, and it’s been a month that he’s there, almost incomunicable so that he can go through the whole intensive process. Everything absolutely sucks, but I was able to do it. It’s impressive, for me. But sometimes I think everything I did was because I am scared shitless of losing him. Whenever I was losing it, I did it by myself, I literally locked myself in the bathroom to freak out alone. I kept it at bay throughout these weeks. You know, I'm... I was actually used to doing that my whole life. I managed to push through no matter how hard. When he arrived in my life, though, I was in a part of my life where I just wanted to take it all out on everyone around me. I reached what I wanted, I'm famous and everyone could suck my dick, you know? And, and... the Ezreal thing, I was even more broken than before. I don't- I'm not sure what I want to make. It's just- I guess… these weeks, these months, I could help him there, I could hold all my shit back to finally help him after he did it for me so many times. But for how long can I pick myself up for him? What if... what if I get back? What if I just... fucking lose my shit again?”
She allowed some silence so that she was sure he finished, and to make sure he heard himself, too, as much as possible.
“You’ve been running on two kinds of fuel, Kayn: the high of defiance and the deep push to protect him. And you’re right, fear of losing someone can keep a person on their feet even when they’re bleeding inside. But that kind of running is exhausting. You’re worried about ‘losing your shit again,’ but that fear already tells me you’re not in the same place you were before. So maybe the point isn’t to promise yourself you’ll never break. It’s learning what you and he will do when the cracks show before they turn into a collapse.”
“Yeah, we... we could, we have to work with this together. I just... I don't want to be a fuck-up anymore. And I'm so lost all the time, I'm afraid I'll just rely on him for everything again. He shouldn't be the one and only reason I do stuff, but for now I... I don't see anything else. It's a lot on him. Again.”
Rhaast’s presence coils in the back of Kayn’s mind, the persona he’s built to become stronger and that he’s now leaning into again. It didn’t have his usual sharp bite of mockery, but with something slower, almost like a cold current in still water.
“You think I’m going to tell you you’re weak for leaning on him,” he rumbles, voice low, deliberate. “But that’s not the truth, boy. The truth is, you’re afraid because you know what it feels like to put every scrap of yourself into someone and watch them crumble under the weight. You’ve done it before. You don’t want to do it again.”
The therapist’s tone, however, softens, even if her gaze stays steady.
"It makes sense you’d feel afraid of repeating old patterns. You’ve been through cycles where you carried pain alone, then cycles where you poured everything onto someone else. Both extremes took a toll. But the fact that you can name this fear now, that you can look at it and say ‘I don’t want to make him carry it all’, that’s already you stepping out of it. It’s not wrong to lean on him right now, he seems willing to help you as much as you are to him. What matters is how we build other pillars, so he isn’t the only one holding up the roof. We can figure out together what those extra supports look like. It could be daily habits, other relationships, work that gives you meaning, even ways you can hold space for yourself. That way, when things get heavy, you have more than one anchor to keep you steady. Tell me… if we could take him out of the equation for a moment, and I’m not talking about not losing him at all, just setting him to the side, what’s one thing, however small, that you’d still want to do just for you?"
The mere consideration made Kayn shuffle uncomfortably in his chair. He brought his hands together, rubbing his fingers and pressing his knuckles. The lock up in his muscles and limbs showed how tense imagining this scenario is, and the way his fingers twitched would display how much he tried to hold it in.
“I guess... I still like music. That's... I’d say that's the only thing I know about myself now.”
There’s the slightest glance from her at the stiffness in his shoulders, the way his hands work restlessly together. Her voice lowers, as if to make the moment feel safer.
"Music." She lets the word breathe for a second, as though it’s not just an answer, but a thread worth holding onto. "It’s telling that this is the thing that comes to mind. Not because it’s clear, but because it’s real for you. You didn’t have to think through a list of what’s ‘productive’ or what’s ‘impressive.’ You went straight to what still resonates with you, the essence itself. When you listen, when you play, when you let yourself sink into it, is it more like finding a quiet place to rest… or more like feeling alive again?"
In response, his breath hesitates in little hiccups as he takes it, as if it shakes, but he still fills up his lungs.
“Lately it's been actually fucking painful. I know that something in me wants to create, but I've been so conditioned by this 'productive and impressive' shit that I can't help thinking if it's going to sell or not. It feels kind of lost. When I... when I was making the PARANOIA song with Aphelios and Sett again, with Yone producing it for us... It is such a simple, stupid song. The lyrics are so bland, so silly, all, but…” He takes a deep breath, and it doesn’t feel like enough to make him breathe, so he takes another one before continuing. “It came from when we were teens. When Ezreal was there with us. When we just made music because we felt like it, not because we were music genius or because it would sell a lot. We…” he chuckled, bitterly, “we hoped it would sell. It was our dream, after all. And in the end, it did. But it was a whole thing entirely.”
The therapist watched him closely, her tone remaining soft but steady. At that point, it could surely be a grounding presence amid his rush of emotion.
“It sounds like that song wasn’t just about the music, it was about who you were when you made it. Back when you and your friends created for the joy of it, before all the layers of expectation and performance weighed it down.” She paused, letting the thought linger in the air before continuing. “You mentioned something important: that you still feel something wanting to create inside you, even if it’s tangled with the pressure to impress. What would it be like if, just for a moment, you gave yourself permission to make something that didn’t have to be genius, didn’t have to sell… just had to be yours?”
It was back to being annoying for Kayn. But maybe it had to be.
“I don't know if I would know how to. I tried and I- I made some serious mistakes the last day I tried. I fucked up big time.” Kayn remembered it was the day he went to Ahri’s place and he could feel nauseous.
“Why do you think you made those mistakes?”
“I was afraid. I’m a coward. I was in a bad place, as usual, I had fought with Yone and I was very high, like, anphetamines kind of high, I thought we might break up and I guess I wanted ruin it before he could do it to me. But I woke up and I was so, so fucking afraid again. It was… I think it had been actually the last thing I did to push him away like I always did, and he still accepted me back.” He didn’t fel ready to dive into those matters now, even though he knew they would, they would have to come back to it. “But… about the- about the music, I told Yone one day, when we went to a restaurant by the seaside, that I wanted to jam a little, get a bit high and just see where it goes. We also have jammed together before, it was… it was very nice. It also feels like he has a hard time feeling the music as his own art and not something he should excel at in Juilliard and before his parents.”
The therapist’s tone stayed gentle, eyes on Kayn but without pressing, even when she watched every single one of his hesitations, both in the way his body shuffled on the armchair and the way his words also shuffled back and forth.
“You were describing a place where creating wasn’t natural, and about it being tied making so many mistakes that it’s hard for you to even continue it or elaborate further. Then you jump to another scene where you are able to give a little smile. It sounds like what you’re describing isn’t just about music, but more about safety. A space where you can be messy, where the only measure is whether you enjoy it, not whether it meets someone else’s expectations.” One more time she pauses for the words to settle before continuing. “When you picture that jamming session with Yone, no rules, no audience, what happens in your body? Does it feel more open, or does some of that tension you carry stay with you?
Once more that ‘feeling in the body’ type of shit, the thought came to Kayn, but he tried it out again. He was way uneasier that time.
“Sounds good, I guess. It's easier with him. It feels like everything is going to be alright eventually.”
“There’s something grounding in the feeling that ‘everything is going to be alright,’ isn’t there? Especially when it comes through another person. But I’m still curious: when you imagine that feeling without him there, what does it look like? Is it still something you can reach for?”
“I don't want to picture that. Feels messy.” He shot back, and the way he felt like clamping up again was surely understood by the therapist.
“That’s completely understandable. If it feels safe enough, maybe we can start by naming what ‘messy’ looks like for you. What parts of that feeling scare you the most?”
“It's like I'm going to fuck something up again. I've always felt alone and it was really miserable, and all I could do was dig deeper. Life had been a hellhole, and I just went on because I had something to look forward to. I wanted to be a fucking celebrity. And, you know, I am now. But when I found someone who loved me, when I met my friends from Heartsteel, when I met Ez, I couldn't see that I've... actually found what I was looking for. I wanted to be seen. Heard. And then I got it, everyone was looking at me, but nobody was seeing me. I wanted to show my worst to everyone. I did it with Yone. It felt like the only thing I knew. He sees me. And I don't know what's left without it anymore.”
“ It's brave of you, to say it out loud. It’s not the first time we go through this, the loneliness beneath all the fame and attention, a loneliness that only deep connection can touch. The way you put it ‘I wanted to be seen, heard… and then I got it, but nobody was really seeing me’, that speaks to the core of what we all want: authentic presence. With Yone, you found someone who does see you, who accepts the parts you usually hide or show merely as a shield. And now, imagining life without that, even if in just a hypothesis work, feels like stepping into an unknown void. It’s natural to feel afraid of losing that anchor, especially when it’s been the foundation of your trust and safety. Part of our work can be to explore how to carry that sense of being truly seen within yourself, so even when others aren’t around, you have a way to meet yourself with that same presence and acceptance. What do you think that might look or feel like for you?”
Kayn let out one scoff.
“Sounds like it's gonna take a while.”
“It very well might. Are you in a rush?”
There was a hint of a smirk in her smile.
“Just to meet him, if I’m honest.”
“And that’s okay. You know, Kayn, healing rarely follows a straight path, and sometimes the longer journey is the one that builds the strongest ground beneath your feet. But you don’t have to walk it alone, Kayn. We’ll take it one step at a time, at your pace, with the care you need. You are doing what you can to break the cycle, which is already a lot.”
With that, Kayn scoffed.
“That’s rich. Paying someone to tell me I’m a good boy and I’m already good enough.”
It didn’t make her even flinch.
“You say you’re paying me to tell you this, but what you’re going through is not your regular rich artist behavior. It would be way easier for you to keep taking it out on every drug you know than spending your time here with me. You could've chosen to have the highest highs the money could buy for as long as you can, but you’re choosing to create a baseline feeling that isn't dread and suffering. It is boring. Still, you’re choosing a different path.”
“I’m not intending to be sober with him either. Plan is getting baked before every morning sex morning and doing music naked on shrooms.”
“You can tell the difference between doing drugs to enhance a moment than to numb a feeling, right? Drugs are, mostly, on themselves, morally neutral. Whatever you do with it that dictates the impact it has in your life.”
“I just hate it sometimes. I’ve told you this already. I’m whining here when I did every shit in the world and you’re pampering me while we both are filthy rich and part of the whole problem to begin with.”
It wasn’t the first time Kayn got defensive when he was vulnerable. It wasn’t that therapist’s first rodeo, and not even the first cowboy.
“Well, would you rather be worse and worse for everyone around? You know where it’s gotten you, Kayn. As far as we’re concerned, until some kind of revolution arises, rich people and poor people will keep on existing, and you’re not even the one who calls the shots to begin with. You either being happy or miserable won’t change the world. But you can do something different with your life, something that’s meaningful, giving back to society or to your fans, as you know you mean so much for so many people. That, or you can be the same as the mess you’ve made and wallow in it. It is a choice after all, but you’re here already.”
Kayn stared at her for another longer.
“You sounded just like Yone now.”
She smiled.
“And isn't he the smartest person you know, as per your own words in other sessions?”
“Touché.”
“And, he is the one who wanted to stay without being paid, when money stopped mattering, isn't he?”
Kayn sighed.
“Touché again.”
“You are actually doing the work, Kayn. It’s not guaranteed that it will make you feel happy, or that it will be enough to keep two people together. Nothing is. But, you see? Of course you lean on him. If you love someone who helps you love yourself, it’s okay to lean on it while it’s the best thing you have to work with. There’s this famous saying of Lacan that is ‘Love is giving something you don’t have to someone who doesn’t want it. ’ It may mean many things, and many times I’m not the one to do the interpretation by myself, but it does have to do with giving what you yourself lack or do not fully own. The choices and decisions you make around this are what matter to build it.”
“That’s kind of way too complex if I’m being honest with you.”
“I’m going to rephrase it, then. What I’m telling you is: Love is not merely a simple, harmonious union, neither two people madly fallen for each other. It can be a complex interplay of desire, lack, and the symbols that shape our relations. Love is not merely something you feel, and you feeling like you lack something isn’t incidental, it may be part of the whole process. Love can be something you live through and experience, through desire and lack, through clashing and finding the synthesis again. So you keep trying, you communicate, and you work through what’s presented to you. One day at a time. You dream for as far as you can, but you live, always, one day at a time. Try to give it a shot, and live, not as if it’s your last day on Earth, but as if it’s your first. You experiment, you try something new in the mundane, you allow yourself wonder, joy and grace, like you would to a child that’s just beginning to live. A child that doesn’t know if a song is cliché or not, a child that plays pretend because it is still imagining a world without hurt.” She took a deep breath, and her last sentence in the paragraph was a soft, gentle hush. “A child you weren’t allowed to be.”
The way she shaped those sentences was getting Kayn to let them in; until that last sentence. Even if they still hadn’t touched the subjects of what actually happened in his childhood, they had already talked about enough to make her say what she said. His throat tightened, his eyes welled with tears and he couldn’t help the sobs.
“You therapists are a bunch of fuckers.” He said, within a bitter, wet scoff, fighting through the sobs. What on fucking Earth was that feeling?
And so she also let out one gentle chuckle, in a way that was actually very sweet.
“I guess we can be. It’s… occupational hazard.” She smiled, but then she was back to a more serious, even if still kind tone. “For now, let yourself cry, Kayn. Crying is the first language that we know, before learning a single word. It’s something we’ve literally been born with, and most of the time, our first response to this immensely complex world. When we ache beyond words, we crave the untranslatable. Holding back tears doesn't make you stronger. It only makes you silent.”
It wasn't easy, though. But nothing has ever been for him, and still he went through it.
He would do that with therapy as well. And with the man he wanted to become, maybe finally worthy of being loved like that by Yone and everyone that admires him throughout the world.
***
Even when Yone thought that he could draw by memory the edges of the Alps that was shown through the window of his bedroom, he stil sat on the edge of the bed like he did most of the nights, at least the ones he was sober enough to do so. When he wasn’t shaking from abstinence, he imagined himself enjoying that view naked in a bathtub with Kayn, a weed vape pen and a glass of cognac. He did that mostly, of course, because he wanted it so bad; but a part that wasn’t so small in him reveled in those thoughts because he didn’t want to think about everything else.
Because everything else was a mess, one he couldn’t care now.
Not that they didn’t do the work to make the transition as smooth as possible, and Kayn was proving himself to be reliable and coherent, safe after all this time so that he could try to trust him. But something might’ve happened in the weeks he was almost incomunicable there. With Kayn, with his business, with his father.
So he had that imagination as a mantra, as a safe place. Where he could rest his mind, as always. And as that day approached, it was sort of funny that he wasn’t nearly as anxious about it as he thought he would. He had counted the days until the day of his discharge, the day of his release; still, now, it felt anything but real. Hands resting loosely on his knees, listening to the faint hum of the ventilation system. There was enough light in the room to gild the polished wood floors and the minimalist, modern furniture in warm golds and creams, beside a table with a bowl of fresh fruit that was replenished every morning without fail. On the opposite side, shelves held books in several languages, chosen not just for decoration but curated for patients: philosophy, history, a few novels in English, French and German. Everything smelled faintly of pine.
He glanced at the clock. Less than two hours until his final evaluation, the one that would decide if he was ready to leave. A month. That was all it had been, though it felt far longer. Four weeks of stripped-down routine, where he had been monitored so closely that there was no escape hatch, no excuses to hide behind. No contact with the world outside except for a couple of carefully supervised phone calls. At first, he’d hated to his core the isolation, the sterility of the schedule that felt like he was a teen back home in an endless trail of pointless activities he didn’t care for, all while feeling physically uncomfortable from abstinence. Fucking group therapy at nine, physical training at noon, mindfulness practice at three, music sessions, plus wellness activities like massages and sauna, scattered in between. The staff didn’t let him dodge a single exercise or slide into silence when he didn’t want to talk. But he was there and he had a goal, and that was something he was good at. He would go through it, without hesitation, because he had to overcome it. Now, he realized that the rigor had held him together. In that cocoon of strict order, without the noise of his old life, he’d been forced to sit with himself, forced to untangle every defense and justification.
He thought of the breakthroughs, moments when anger cracked open into grief, or when shame finally gave way to understanding. The morning he admitted, aloud, what he had never told anyone. The afternoon he managed to sit through a full hour of meditation without feeling like he was clawing at the walls. The night he wrote a letter to his parents he would probably never send but needed to put on paper.
And then there were the smaller, humbler victories: sleeping through the whole night without nightmares; eating without his phone in hands. Yone leaned back on his palms, gaze fixed on the mountain ridges, sharp and clean against the pale sky. He was not cured, he doubted anyone ever truly was, but he was steadier now. And he could sit with boredom, which has always been the scariest of any foe he could face.
The question was whether the doctors would see it, whether they would trust him enough to let him out of this place sooner than most.
Being far from his routine, and even from Kayn, had been important. He had to make those fantasies of enjoying the sight of the Alps with him; maybe now when both could enjoy it together.
Everything else is for tomorrow.
As the time of the evaluation arrived, he got up with his suitcase in hand. Accompanied by a nurse that he had many conversations with, Yone walked through those halls that barely looked like a clinic, making it look way more like a SPA, and that was where he told everyone he was; for burnout and stress and not for a goddamn pill addiction. One would believe that this is where he was if they saw the surroundings, if not for some sprinkles of a hospital and the clothes of the nurses themselves.
Opening the door, it was also a room someone observant like Yone would know by heart, taking from how many times he had been there. Mahogany bookshelves lining the walls. Leather-bound volumes. Occasional brass-framed diplomas. Some neatly arranged sculptures. Heavy velvet drapes in the tall windows, a similar, but different landscape of the alps seen from there. Two armchairs upholstered in dark green leather faced one another before the hearth, where they would sit.
They greeted each other. The therapist was an older man who held a strong German accent, but spoke perfect English; and German wasn’t exactly within the pool of languages known by Yone and he didn’t feel like learning it as he flipped through the pages of some romances in the bookshelves of his room.
The therapist picked his notebook and his beautiful golden fountain pen, and after he was sat, rested them on his thighs.
“Yone, it’s been four weeks since you first walked into the clinic, and I’ve seen you work through a lot. As you know, we could’ve gone through a longer period, but, as per the intensive care you decided for and your need to go back to professional activity , this could be your discharge evaluation. So I’ll need to ask about the whole picture: the pills, the triggers, the relationships. I know you prefer to avoid repeating yourself, but I want to hear it in your own words as we go back to the most important points of our evaluations. Let’s start simple: when you think about the day you ended up in the hospital… what comes to mind?”
Sighing, Yone looked away, through the window. Seeing the Alps drawn out in the distance made it clear how far from home he was, in every sense that mattered.
“It was Christmas eve, I think... Kayn and I talked about spending it in my house, and I had to relax because it was finally a day off, but I was....” He gestured in circles as if trying to find the words. “Yeah, I was restless. I was supposed to rest and there was nothing as dreadful, and I was trying to keep sober to enjoy with Kayn at least. But you asked for what comes to mind... I don't know what you want from that. Me pacing around in my house looking for something to do with my anxiety, probably.”
“You’ve told me before that Kayn was there later that night… but when you picture the scene now, when you come back to the image, is it when he is in it? Or were you alone when the restlessness got too loud?”
“I told him he could come whenever he could because being alone in that situation felt horrible. Then my mother called, because my new assistant had given her my cellphone number, and I just took the call without seeing who it was. She told me my father was in a coma, and after the call I just... You know that I didn't want to overdose, I didn't want to die. I just took more pills than I should because anxiety was choking me, and when I realized I fucked up, I called Kayn to help me from the bathroom floor. Then it was all a blur.”
“So in that moment, as you were on the bathroom floor and had your phone in your hand, you didn’t call an ambulance. You called Kayn.” He waited just long enough for the implication to hang. “Why him? I’m not asking if or why you love him, this is beyond saying… I’m asking why, out of everyone you could’ve called, your staff, emergency services, you chose him when you thought you might not make it through the night.”
“I…” Yone pauses and takes a deep breath, thinking about it. He may never have actually reflected on it before, even though they had talked about that day previously. “I wanted him to know I didn't give up on him. That if I died, it was a mistake. I've promised him I wouldn't leave him.”
“So even in the middle of your own crisis, your first thought was keeping that promise to him. Making sure he understood.” He leaned forward slightly, voice lower and more direct. “We could talk about Kayn not being just part of your life then, but the center of it. But we’ve also talked about how his behavior before all this… pushed you toward the pills in the first place. When you think about that balance now between the harm and the help, which side is heavier?”
“He's the reason I am here, too, in a different way. I asked him for help, too, when I admitted I needed rehab and everything else. In the end, I tasted my own medicine. In the beginning, I also thought I could manipulate him, while being his agent. I would bring him cocaine and try to manipulate him with it, even though it never really worked. I fell in love and I wanted to mend him later, but that wouldn't be easy. And, you know, pretty much; Kayn was pretty much the center of my life. I think he kind of is. I worked with and for him, I fell in love with him. I broke with him, and sometimes I think…” he sighs, “I think I wouldn't even see the problem in everything I've done if not for that.”
“So in some ways, loving him forced you to look at yourself more honestly than you had in years. You started seeing… patterns. Not just with him, but in how you handled everyone.” He tilted his head slightly. “You’ve told me before about Evelynn, and, generically, all the business you wanted out of. When you think about manipulation from everyone involved, do you feel like stepping away from that world is as important to your recovery as staying off the pills?”
“That's the plan.” He chuckled. “I won't get out of her claws otherwise, and there's nothing in this world for me anymore. Kayn says he'll quit the record company, too. He's also had enough of being puppeteered by people like I did to him. I know it sounds like we hope to elope together or something, and I know how silly this sounds. It's... I've told you before. I've always been able to do whatever it took to get to what I wanted. I wanted out of my house and my life in Japan, so I studied music tirelessly to go to Juilliard, I finished it, went to Yale, and amounted my own money outside of my parents' heritage, my own patrimony before I was thirty. I could only have done that because I never looked back. I was absolutely confident and it has never failed me. But then Kayn came and he was ungovernable. The first time I saw him, he was getting head from a random fan. The other day, I called him out on his mistakes during a studio session in front of other musicians and he waited until we were alone and fucking punched me in the face. I saw him fucked up paranoid with cocaine more than once and him breaking down was so visceral. I don't even know how we got this involved, how this absolute mess turned into us getting closer. I know I wanted to try to find a way to circumvent it, to still be in control, but I just couldn't be superficial with him. At a certain point we were teasing each other, and I used to know how to do this, I've had many men in my pocket because I used them to get what I wanted, exactly by manipulating their emotions and sleeping with them. But I was lost in my own game and I just didn't want to admit it. He took me to Vegas and we did molly and we had so much fun. You know, not so much later than that, he drove while drunk, just like Yasuo did, but thankfully he was arrested before he ended up dead as well. I broke down for the first time in a... I think in forever. I didn't even see that coming. After some time I... I saw him pointing a gun to his own temple about to take his own life and he told me he just didn't do it because he thought about me. I…” Yone let out one confused, overwhelmed chuckle once more. “I don't think I have what it takes anymore to go back to who I used to be. I don’t think I want to, but I don’t know what else I have.”
“You’ve just told me three very different versions of yourself in one breath: the strategist who could bend anyone to your will, the man who lost control when he met someone he couldn’t ‘govern,’ and the partner who can’t imagine returning to that old life.” The psychologist remained quiet for a moment, then went on. “That shift… from controlling to being affected… it’s not just about Kayn, is it? I’m thinking of your father in the coma, your mother showing up in L.A., and Yasuo. When those people are in your head, do you recognize the same patterns you’ve had with Kayn? Or do they feel like a different kind of hold over you?”
Yone taps his fingers on the arms of the armchair and looks away.
“I'll…” He let out another chuckle. “I'll probably need a little more therapy to answer you that.”
“Fair enough… but I’ll tell you why I’m asking. If the same dynamics are at play, they can pull you back into the same coping habits, and that’s your pills included, even if Kayn stays healthy, even if Evelynn is out of the picture. Before I sign off on discharge, I need to know how you’re going to handle those triggers when they come. Because your father is still in that hospital bed, your mother is still calling, and Yasuo… will always be there in the background. What does your plan look like the next time that phone rings and it’s her?”
Yone swallowed hard.
“I've been thinking about this. It'll probably be because my father died. I don't know if she'll try something to make me stay again. I don't want to stay with her. I want to be with him. With Kayn. It's…” Yone sighs and runs his hands on his face, rubbing his eyes, before sighing once more. “Do you know how much it takes for me to be honest with you here? I'm fucking trying.” He let out a huff and everything in him is exasperated, frustrated. “I know what I'm supposed to answer. I could make it up here on the spot. I could tell you a tale about trying to make it up with my family, but I wouldn't sound so vehement, because I knew you wouldn't buy it. I would tell you, hesitantly, about how I would try to listen more to my mother, and maybe end up this talk with my voice breaking about how I'm hesitant to believe she actually loves me, and that I have hopes we would be able to work it out. I could wrap it up saying that I don't want my father to die, and in tears I could admit to you how much I think of Yasuo every day and that I know he's gone-...” Betraying him, Yone's voice actually breaks as he says it, and he stops speaking, nostrils flaring, swallowing hard. When he speaks again, his voice is whispered. “But if I try to be honest with you, I don't know. And that's fucking scary.”
He swallows hard again.
“That’s what I needed to hear. Not the polished story you think I’m fishing for, not the script. The ‘I don’t know.’ Because that’s real. And it’s also the place where relapse risk lives: in the unknowns you haven’t rehearsed yet. You’ve survived on your own certainty your whole life. You had your calculated moves, clear goals, knowing exactly what you want and how to get it. But grief, family, love… they don’t play by those rules. And you can’t strategize your way out of them the same way you did Yale or Evelynn. So here’s my concern, Yone: if you’re discharged, you’ll have luxury, love, and freedom again… and none of that will make the phone ring any less. Are you ready to live without knowing how you’ll answer it?”
“I'll have to. I've always been ready. That's what I do.”
“Yes… you’ve always acted ready. And you’ve always managed to perform readiness so convincingly that people believed it. Maybe even you believed it, but it seems to me that the façade is not there anymore. What are you going to do with the shatters? This time, Yone, I’m not asking you to perform. I’m asking you to commit to the tools we’ve built here when the uncertainty hits. No charm, no manipulation, no retreat into the pills. Just the work.” He says it all, then closes the notebook slowly, letting everything fall into place. “If I clear you for discharge, it’s because I believe you understand that difference. So before we wrap this up… tell me, in one sentence, why I should trust you’re ready to face that without falling back.”
It takes Yone a long moment. He is still looking aside, at the window. Through it, as he did so many times, and his mind was once more in the safety of his midings with Kayn. He swallowed hard yet once more, and sighed.
“I want to feel how life is when I'm not faking it all or numbing it all away.”
The therapist smiled, then.
“That’s the first thing you’ve said today that sounds like you’re talking to yourself as much as to me.” He leaves his notebook and his pen aside decisively, signaling the session is over but the work isn’t, intertwining his fingers. “Alright, Yone… let’s see what you do with that. For now… you have someone waiting for you for some hours in the waiting room, and we won’t let him wait any time longer, will we?”
Notes:
The whole messy, stream-of-consciousness vibe of the chapter is intentional to meet the situation itself, to match the feelings of disorientation as we begin to find ways to heal ourselves (and also from them being away from each other). Also, there are things that will still be worked on in next chapters. But if it's way too confusing, let me know, for me to know where to work around. See you soon <3
EDIT: So, I guess the AO3 curse got to me and my computer isn't working at all. I don't know when I'll be able to repair or replace it, so I guess the fics are going to take a while longer to be written 😓
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