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The Voice of a Prophet	By : FilthyWarumono Category: > Kyo/Kaoru Views: 2756 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Dir en grey are real people and I do not know them. Simply expressing creativity and curiosity in a work of fiction. I am not making any profit from anything I do.

Chapter List
- 1-PROLOGUE
- 2-SETSUNA
- 3-SILVER COIN
- 4-MISSA
- 5-GARDEN
- 6-ZANGEKI NO YORU
- 7-JEALOUS
- 8-PROPHET
- 9-GAUZE
- 10-YUME
- 11-COURAGE
- 12-CAGE
- 13-CHARMING
- 14-TOMODACHI
- 15-SCARLET
- 16-MYAKU
- 17-OSAKA JO
- 18-HIMITSU
- 19-A KNOT
- 20-MACABRE
- 21-SHOWTIME
- 22-SHINJITSU
- 23-AKUMU
- 20
- 21
- 22
THE VOICE OF A PROPHET
Chapter Twenty
SHOWTIME

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Another day, another concert.

I both loved and hated performing live. After rubbing my vocal chords raw from hitting impossible notes and screaming nonstop, after expending all of my energy just trying to get my feelings, my hurt across to the audience of zombies, I would give anything just to collapse into my bed and die for the next few days. However when I was all dressed up backstage and could hear the roar of the audience chanting our name over and over and over again I suddenly had an energy rush, the adrenaline pumping through my veins once more like I didn’t even miss a beat.

As I was buttoning up my black asymmetrical jacket my eyes darted between the other four members who were also preparing themselves to go on stage. In the before hours I had been here, I had noticed the man of my affections seemed to be in a funk, and naturally, I worried that it was my fault. When I came in this morning my picture was gone, along with the rest of his stuff. I didn’t dare dig through a trash can to see if he just upright chucked the thing. Did he fear I was coming on to him? … Not that I wasn’t, really. Maybe I was too forward this time. I thought… I thought we sort of had at least something between us. Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I continued getting ready, keeping my eyes and ears open in case I could find some sort of an answer.
Come to think of it, Toshiya seemed like he was in the same sort of mood. They weren’t all that talkative, which was rare for the bassist, let alone right before a show. He did hang out with Kaoru quite a bit; maybe Leader-san told him what was wrong? Surely he wouldn’t tell me, especially if it had to do with me. Being the nosy little worry-wart that I am, I needed to know.

Sinking into a chair at the younger’s side as he was doing his hair I watched him wide-eyed in the reflection, until he finally noticed that I was vexedly staring at him. He set his comb down and scooted his chair backwards slightly, making a small sound. “What?”
“Daijoubu ka?”
Toshiya sighed slowly, and then furrowed his brows. “I’m mad.”
“Obviously.” I countered.
“Kaoru-kun says we’re not allowed to bring relationships into the band.”
I stared blankly at the bassist until I processed this information in my head. “You have a girlfriend?” I found myself asking, surprised. I always pegged him as the whore, not able to keep a real relationship. Maybe Kaoru was upset that Toshiya was trying to get his latest fling special access to our concerts? Hah, that would be amusing. Though I didn’t know for sure, I saw the younger as someone who was in and out with whatever could satisfy his need. I’m such a tool. If that were the case, imagine how many people would get backstage! My admirable leader had a good point. I found myself smirking just slightly, like I was so proud of him.

Who am I kidding. Of course I’m proud of Kaoru.

Toshiya only chuckled bitterly. “No… you think I’m straight, Kyo-chan?” He reached over to poke at my nose in a teasing sort of fashion, and as I went cross-eyed following his digit, I pulled away.
“No,” I found myself answering before thinking. Truth was that I thought I was the only one attracted to the same sex. Strangely enough, knowing this about him didn’t make me feel any better in my strange situation.
Toshiya lowered his gaze again, scowling into his lap. “You’d think he would have told me that before fucking me.”

I think my breathing stopped before I even realized what was going on. My throat suddenly tightened and I could only stare at the younger male wordlessly, until my body forced me to swallow and only then did I manage to take a much needed inhale. The bassist glanced up at my lack of a response but I was no longer looking at him, not even through him. My whole body just felt like it had stopped functioning, mouth slightly agape as my brows began to frown. I didn’t even need him to explain further.

“Aah, T.M.I. ne? I’m sorry. He’s probably right though. You think so?”

I could hardly hear the man’s words directed at me though the white noise that I felt was rushing my ears. I could feel my entire composure starting to crumble. As if I was a semi-tall Jenga structure and Toshiya had just yanked out my only stable bottom block. I knew I was starting to tremble, so quickly, I tried to focus. I think so? What did I think? Kaoru was right? Of course Kaoru was right. Kaoru was always right. I nodded my head through that haze I was in. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I could hardly see.
I needed to leave.
Pushing rather abruptly from my chair I stammered, trying to make up some excuse to dismiss myself.

“… Relationships inside a band are stupid.”

And with that, I walked away.

I hurried past all others, ignoring the confused glances and worried looks I was offered as I slipped past only to disappear into the bathrooms, locking the door behind me with a soft click. I didn’t even think to check to see if I was the only one in here before doing so. I felt inanimate; I didn’t even realize that I moved right for the nearest sink, hands gripping the porcelain edge as I loomed over it. Why couldn’t I take my own advice? I knew all along, deep down that it was stupid. That I was stupid. The beautiful, talented leader of my band having a relationship with disturbed, talentless, ugly little me? I gagged, forcing my tiny frame to recoil as the saliva started to build up in my mouth. I had nothing worth any value to him. It wasn’t like it could have been publicized. It would have ruined our image. Broken our band. It’s sick to know that I would have been completely fine with that. I would destroy everyone’s jobs, even my own, to please my greedy heart. I would have been fine being his dirty little secret even. Hidden away and only needed during a lonely night. Again I lurched forward, body quaking as I forced the little contents of my stomach up and out of my mouth. How did I not notice that Toshiya… and Kaoru? It wasn’t me. It was never me. My demented head just twisted reality until I was satisfied. It would never, couldn’t ever be me.
I threw up until my throat burned raw from acid. I threw up until my stomach physically felt like it had collapsed in on itself. I threw up until I felt dizzy, light-headed and empty.

I always felt empty.

A sob escaped me then as I pathetically sunk to my knees on the floor, burying my face in my hands. My tiny shoulders quaked as I simply sat there and cried, quite literally bawling my eyes out and wailing helplessly into my palms. It didn’t matter that I was ruining my makeup. Who cared anyway? He was never looking at me. I didn’t get dressed up for any of them. I felt like the hand of Kami-sama himself had just punctured through my chest, gripped tightly around my beating heart, and simply squeezed until it exploded a bloody, useless mess splattering across my ribcage.
“Kyo-san… are you alright?”
I could hardly hear the voice of Die over my wretched weeping at the other side of the door, it was only when he rapped upon the wood that it startled me. Prying my hands away from my face I lifted a tear-filled gaze to stare blurrily at the backside of the door, sinking crooked teeth harshly into my painted, bottom lip in an effort to mute my sniffling. No, I’m not alright. Was I ever..? Taking a sharp breath I tried to calm myself, holding it in my lungs until I stopped quivering. I didn’t say anything, only eventually exhaling and pushing myself to a slow, weak stand, yanking at some paper towels to dab my eyes with. The reflection looking back at me was pitiful. My makeup had smeared and left black trails running down my pale cheeks, now just as reddened as my eyes. I tried uselessly to reshape my frowning black lips with a corner of that sheet, angrily giving up and throwing it away.
“Kyo?” He tried again, louder this time. I sniffed, resituating my attire before reaching out to rinse the sink of any evidence of my issues.
“I’m… fine.”

When I finally emerged from the bathroom I kept my head bowed low and refused to look at anyone, refused to speak. I only offered shrugs to their questions while I tried desperately to fix my façade, doing a shitty rush job of touching it up. I even went so far as to scribble meaningless crap under my eye with liquid liner to try and cover up the redness, pulling the long, blonde bangs over the other to hide the truth.

The show must go on.

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Finally, things are progressing. >] Do tell me what you think!
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The Voice of a Prophet