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Triangle	By : hyde Category: J-Rock/J-Pop & K-Pop > Miyavi Views: 2071 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Miyavi. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Triangle
- 2-two
- 3-Ch 3
- 4-Ch 4
- 5-five
- 6-Ch 6
- 7-Ch 7
- 8-Ch 8
- 9-Ch 9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 1
- 2
Summary: This story takes place after Pick of The Litter in the Gackt section. I'm only putting it here because this story is Miyavi center. He gets caught up in the GakuHai love/hate drama. In other words they end up fighting over poor Meeves!

You wanted a Miyavi story with plot here it is. been working on this idea for a year. Just didn't think it was time to put it up. Now that Miyavi's working with Gackt perfect time to put it up! Enjoy and all that.

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“Oh shit!” Miyavi cries out just as the back of Maaya’s car comes into contact with the rear end of another vehicle. The two had just finished having drinks at Japan’s premiere night spot and restaurant R.E.I.

“Whadda we hit?” Maaya all but slurred from his side of the passenger seat, his head tilted back and his eyes closed to protect them from the harsh lights parking garage. He had only felt the impact and heard Miyavi’s panicked yell.

“Whadda ya think we hit?” Miyavi clicks the button on his seat belt, pushes the door open as he swings his legs out and down. He gets to his feet with ease before cautiously making his way over to the other car.

‘Saitou’s gonna kill me for not calling a cab’ Miyavi bit down on his bottom lip as he looked over the damage done to the very expensive red sports car. The tail lights had been smashed, the bumper was hanging off it’s hinge and there was some paint missing which meant that it was no coloring Maaya’s modest ride.

“Shit…fuck…damn…damn…damn!” Miyavi cursed loudly causing Maaya to jump up his seat.

The guitarist drags his sluggish body over to the driver’s side seat and pokes his head out of the window. His bleary eyes surveys the damage with little interest before he says, “Leave a note.”

“A note?!” Miyavi whips around to look at his smashed lover. “A note isn’t going to cover the damage-”

“A letter.” Maaya explains. “Besides it’s his fault. That car is too big. It didn’t leave any room for us to get out!” Maaya points out. “Serves him right if you ask me.” He snots before securing the seatbelt of the driver’s seat.

‘A note…a note… a note…’ Nervously Miyavi drums his finger tips against his side. He has no paper or pen to write with. He had a napkin but that would be too small for the owner to see. He had to have something that would stick out against the damage. Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets Miyavi dug around until his fingers enclosed around a thick cylinder shaped object.

‘Lipstick?’ Miyavi stares at the tube of a reddish purple color. Uncapping it he moves towards the windshield hoping that there wasn’t an alarm on the damn thing; he couldn’t remember hearing one upon impact.
Writing as legibly as he could Miyavi manages to write a brief letter as well as his number to cell.

‘Does Maaya have insurance?’ Miyavi turns away from the window and back towards Maaya’s car. “Maaya-tan, you have insurance?”

“No.” Maaya’s voice shouts from the car. “Besides you hit his car. You pay for it.”

‘Cheap bastard’ After all Miyavi had already brought the drinks Maaya was currently intoxicated by. ’He’s nuts if he’s thinks he’s getting top tonight.’ Miyavi tries to read over his message; he didn’t have his reading glasses with him.

“Fuck it.” Miyavi murmurs before heading back to the car. Relief filled him at the sight of Maaya in the driver’s seat. Miyavi opens the passenger side door pushing the seat upward before taking up residence in the back.

“Snooty bastard with his fancy car.” Maaya rasps as he rammed into the back of the sports car out of spite before driving off.
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“Pu pu, what’s wrong?” Chachamura asks his brooding boss. The two had been working late on Gackt’s new single and had decided to take a break at the new night club R.E.I. Since You was still mad at him, the company had assigned the band leader to play babysitter for the unpredictable pop diva.

Gackt lifted the remainder of his drink to his lips and swallowed. His thoughts were miles away from now. Hyde’s decision and swift exidious to America had left the other man raw. Having the two people you care about most drop you at the same time was a very hard thing to deal with.

Chacha signaled the barkeep over, “No more for him.”

The barkeep gave a nod of agreement.

It wasn’t that Gackt was drunk, Chacha just knew how Gackt got when he was drunk.

“Don’t do that.” Gackt’s voice is low, barely audible but the authority was there.

“Do what?” Chacha demanded copying his tone.
“Make decisions for me.” Gackt pushed his empty glass towards the bartender. “I want another. Straight. No ice.”

The bartender’s eyes fell on Chacha to Gackt’s annoyance who gave a small nod of permission.

‘I don’t need a goddamn babysitter!’ Gackt slips off the barstool, his plated blues cutting a cold glare the blonde‘s way before stalking off through the crowd towards the bathroom.

Yes he had to admit that his actions had been a little damaging towards his career but he was allowed to have an life outside of that wasn’t he? He didn’t need someone peering over his shoulder making sure that his scandalous personal life didn’t effect record sales, public appearances and concert turn outs. Yes, a few endorsements had pulled out of their contacts with him but the requests for interviews lately had been more then usual.

Gackt places his hands under the sink’s tap, cupping his hands so that he doesn’t spill much of the water he’s collected. He splashes the cool liquid onto his hot skin hoping that his coloring would look a little better.

‘Get it together Camui. There are many of others out there that would be happy to suck your dick. Hyde’s not the only piece of ass out there.’

But that wasn’t what it was about. It would have been so simple if he just saw the L’arc an ciel front man as ’just a piece of ass’. He had been more that. His lover and his friend. To not be able to speak to him again as such was…

He didn’t think. Gackt just cocked his hand back as far as it would go using the strength of shoulder as he released it into the smooth glass of the bathroom mirror.

Pain exploded throughout his entire body accompanied by the sound of shattering glass. The spider web like design that his fist had etched into the glass of the bathroom mirror marred his reflection which for Gackt was a good thing.

The man reflected in the glass was a far cry from the calm collected and sometimes dorky superstar that held the affections of his Dears. His hair had grown longer and was thrown in a loose pony tail, the lines around his mouth had gotten a touch deeper and were in need of botox as well as the corners of his eyes. He would find that there was also puffiness which made no sense since the star had taken up the hobby of sleep. The last time he had seen Hyde he looked the complete picture of health. A full recovery from the year and a half of rehabilitation.
‘Find the owner. Pay the damage. And leave.’ Gackt told himself as he wrapped his bleeding fist with strips from his shirt. He hated to ruin a twenty-five hundred yen shirt but the cuts were deep enough to be considered an emergency.

“Fuck,” Chacha cursed as soon as he caught sight of Gackt. The blonde had been standing outside of the bathroom door. “What did you do now?”

Gackt didn’t answer him, he just moved passed him heading for the bar area so that he could get the manager. Chachamura disappeared inside of the bathroom to see what damage had been done.

‘I haven’t felt this out of control since high school.’ A small smile crept to the former Dark Angel’s lips as he made his way back to his place at the bar. He drink of vodka sat there on it’s napkin disturbed. He snatches it up knocking it back in single motion before signaling over the bar tender.

“Get me your manager. It’s urgent.”

The man nodded before disappearing to find the manager.

“Let’s just leave the proper information and go.” Chacha’s voice startled the buzzed vocalist.

“Ah, so you’ve seen the mirror?” Gackt asks. He moves closer to the slighter man draping his injured hand over his small shoulders. “I really should take those anger management classes again eh?” Gackt was grinning from ear to ear as he said this.

“You need professional help.” Chacha said shaking his blonde head.

“I was thinking the same thing a moment ago. Did you think Yamatao-san could send a pair over to my apartment before I got there?”

Chacha groaned at the suggestion of prostitutes. Gackt had ran up quit at tab in the last month with the host of Japan’s hottest pleasure gardens on both male and female callers.

“I don’t think tha-” Chacha fell silent at the appearance of what could only the club’s manager who still there dripping in a tailored silk suite.

“Problem gentleman?” He asks his voice a smooth baritone. He eyes Gackt who is still leaning heavily against the other musician.

Chacha clears his throat and licks his lips unsure if Gackt wants him to speak for him or not.

Gackt remains silent, his head lolling against Chacha’s head as if he had passed out while standing up.

“My friend here had a bit too much and got into a fight with the bathroom mirror.” Chacha explains. “We’re prepared to pay the expense and be on our way.” Carefully balancing Gackt’s weight Chacha slips a hand into his jeans pocket producing a business card with black text.

The owner takes it with dry slender fingers and brings it to his face. His eyes scan over the characters with care before slipping the card into his own pocket.

“Gackt-san is very welcomed here at our club and whatever damages that may have occurred are personally covered by me.” He smiles as he said this. “Tickets to his next concert and a signed copy of the new single is in order.”

“Deal.” Chacha says as grasps the other man’s hand and shakes. “I’ll have it delivered here.”

“Good.”
`````

“That was close.” Gackt mutters once they were out of the clubs doors. He straightens up no longer needing Chachamura ‘aide’ to walk moving swiftly towards where he had parked. The space was a on a slant and was practically difficult to manage given the size of his vehicle. A spaceship was what Hyde had called it when he had first seen it.

The back of the car loomed just a few feet from the artist when he noticed the extensive damage done to the rear.

Gackt’s face contorted in primal rage, his lips curled into an ugly scowl, the veins in his neck bulging and straining against the flushed red skin, his eyes doubled in sized giving him the appearance of an insect.

“Who!?” He rasped between his teeth, his fist pounding the air as he made a mad dash across the garage to stand in front of the wreckage.

Confused, Chacha picked up his pace until he could clearly see just what the ruckus was about.

“Kami in heaven.” The band leader uttered as he drew near to where Gackt stood more so transfixed at the quick scrawl of lipstick on the back window.

An amused smile was painted on Gackt’s lips as he read over the slang laced message.

“If I didn’t know any better I have been rear ended by a tom boyish woman.” His voice held a sort of fond ness for the mystery lady.

“No insurance but will pay the damages with interest.” Chacha read out loud. “A very generous offer Pu pu.”

“Indeed.” Gackt couldn’t quit wipe the smile off his face as he removed his cell from his pocket. He punched in the phone number and hit the ‘save’ button for later use. He then began to dial the number of his insurance agency. “Yes, I need a tow. No, no one’s injured…” He continues the conversation while Chacha looks on in fascination at how quickly Gackt’s mood had changed for the better.

Still smiling, Gackt now dials the number of an cab company rattling off the address of the club as well as the address to his house. Turning his attention to Chacha he says, “Cha, its’ going to be an hour and a half wait. Do you mind?”

The blonde shakes his head no still stun by the change in mood.

“We’ll be across the street from the club at a café. Thank you.” Gackt says before clicking his razor shut and sliding it back into his pocket. With his other hand he produces a pack of smokes. He taps the bottom extracting a cigarette bringing it to his lips. "Do you want one?" He directs Chacha's way before flicking his lighter into action.

Once again Chacha shakes his head no.

Gackr shrug and inhales deep as he strolls down the slope of the parking like a man taking a walk in his favorite park.

'He's finally lost his mind.' Chacha thought to himself as he dutifully followed behind his boss.
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Triangle