Why am I writing a new AU while I haven't finished my other? Don't ask me. This one is angsty as hell, so sorry in advance, will contain future trigger warnings. I'll point out that I use lyrics from songs, the titles will be part of the chapter titles.

The refresh of his inbox caught the corner of his eye, prying them from his keyboard as he swiveled the chair from the black and white keys to the computer. It was the simple subject line of "Hey!" from Maka Albarn, a name that came with an uneasy recognition. First, the last name, unique enough that it had to connect to Spirit Albarn, that playboy music producer who was big enough that she shouldn't be bothering emailing him to begin with. Second, Black Star had already warned him about this or at least told him that he was doing this, producing a song for a girl he didn't know. Third, he did know her, they'd met once a million years ago back when he was Soul Evans and not Soul Eater. Back when he was normal, but she couldn't possibly remember that.

The cursor wiggled over the title to the box to check to delete it and then back to the title. 'She needs someone new' was what Black Star had said, but it all smelled fishy, like there was a backstory which Black Star was usually good at blabbing about, but his lips had buttoned after offering the name and the problem.

And who are you to question someone's backstory? Mr. Missing-for-a-year, barely-leaves-the-house, can't-get-undressed-except-with-yourself. Soul had enough of the dark little voice, pinching into his leg to try to quell its call. With a slow, unsteady breath he opened the email.

"BS said I should just wait and he'd bring me to your apartment, but it's almost kind of too weird. I'm Maka Albarn, and yes, I know what my last name makes you think of, but cut me a break, OK? I'm hoping you'll give me a chance. My portfolio isn't that large and my social media is shit (Dad's on me about that all the time but I hate it) but I promise I work hard, I won't flake on you." Closed with a phone number. Her signature was generic, that business close to an email, followed by the social media icons hyperlinked to her sites.

Soul humored it, clicking on the Instagram account because that's where these little starlets always shined. Being a singer meant selling your body just as much as your music and he prepared for the boring cycle of shots out with the girls, clips of performances, and finally scantily clad home pics to boost viewership. The first picture fit the mold, a night out with a group of girls he actually recognized, Tsubaki, Liz, Patty, and Kim, all girls he'd gone to high school with. A blip of interest on his radar that he tried to turn off, scrolling to the next image of, well, a book.

Not one of those curated pictures with the cup of coffee with the leaf design in it along with a stylish pair of glasses to hold down the page, but a closed book, taking up most of the picture with just a smidge of wood desk bordering it. Underneath, not some annoying content about how it changed her life or some other humble-brag but a scathing review about the historical inaccuracies along with a complaint about the male lead. His lips broke out into a smirk, something he hadn't done in a while, feeling old and rusty as it spread along his face. He scrolled again.

It alternated strangely between more books, mostly with better reviews, some more pictures of her and friends, food, and finally just two headshots. They looked forced, her decidedly displeased and he could imagine her father forcing them, knowing the game that singers should be playing. It was refreshing, to say the least, much more interesting than any other possibilities he had on any of the burners, especially since he'd been gone for almost an entire year, something that didn't bear reminding.

After rubbing his hands through his hair a couple of times, he hit reply.

Maka's inbox wasn't a part of her periphery but her entire sight, her finger glued to the refresh as she picked apart the message she'd sent fifteen minutes ago. She was thankful that Black Star would even offer a producer outside of school since, well, she didn't exactly want to think about the reasoning right now, the black hole that was her freshman year at the technical arts college that they all attended should stay just that, blacked out and sucked into eternity. Black Star had apparently been friends with him in high school, this Soul Eater guy, and he had some sort of connections, though the information that she could get from Black Star on that was incredibly thin. At this point, she'd take just about anything as long as it meant she could continue avoiding her father.

After the 600th refresh it popped up, the shining "Re: Hey!" that she was just about passing out from holding her breath for. She clicked on it, seeing that he was as succinct as he was mysterious: "Click here, if you're OK with what you hear, BS can bring you tonight." He'd hyperlinked the first part, redirection to a digital recording that she could only assume was a song of his. She'd obviously never heard his work so she plugged in her headphones before pushing them into her ears, letting the link load in the process.

The beat was interesting, horns and saxophone almost playful until his voice interrupted, a sullen mumble with words just as moody as the tone. "Living an imprisoned life, they said I'm the one who imprisoned myself." It bordered on the melodramatic, or it would if it weren't for the obviously painful inflection to his voice. "OK, not okay, OK, I'm no good, really I am okay." It was a fight that he was having with himself and for some reason, she felt compelled to fight with him. He can't be that bad, she wanted to reason. It seemed too strange that this was the piece that he chose to represent himself, but she couldn't keep herself from liking it. Maybe it seemed over the top, dramatic in a way that was almost like he was full of himself, but Maka could swear that wasn't it. There was something else there.

She hit the reply, "See you tonight."

Black Star was waiting outside her night class, arms crossed with that bask-in-my-presence air that she was by now completely used to. "Maka, heard you got the approval."

"Yeah," Maka answered hesitantly but tried to smile especially as Liz raised her eyebrows questioningly. "Black Star is setting me up with that producer you all know, Soul?"

"Wait, high school Soul?" Liz stopped abruptly, sending her eyes to Black Star. "He's back, or alive or whatever? Since when? He hasn't talked to any of us in like a year."

"Any of you," Black Star corrected. "He'd never forget the number one person in his heart, the man that he worships."

Liz laughed before grasping at Black Star's elbow, aggressively bringing him closer to keep the comment between them. "Is he OK?"

"He's Soul," Black Star tried to shrug off the question. "Soul Eater right now, to be exact. You can probably come with tonight if you want. I still can't actually believe he agreed."

"Why?" Maka finally felt the urge to interject between the two of them since she needed to know the insinuation there.

"Not you," Liz corrected even without the consultation of Black Star. "He's kind of… closed off."

"That's the nice way to put it," Black Star rolled his eyes. "But he's my special little idiot, so you better just do what he says, be nice to him."

"I'm always nice!" Maka chopped at Black Star's arm as if that actually proved her point.

'She's too nice' is what Liz wanted to say to Black Star, a kind of hesitation about this meeting making it hard to still refuse the invitation. She's going to want to fix him once she meets him and he hates that kind of shit. The stuff he holds on to is his own and he'll be damned if he lets that stuff go. She was slowly settling on the idea that this would be another catastrophe with maybe a ten percent chance of a miracle.

Her first strange concern was that Black Star had a key to Soul's apartment. Maka knew they were friends, but how normal was it for friends to have keys? To let themselves in tentatively like they weren't sure what they were going to find? The door opened to a completely dark hallway, leading to just shadowy rooms. "Fuck," Black Star muttered before turning on the light, at least giving them a clear path.

"Is he home?" Maka for some reason felt the need to whisper as if turning on the light wasn't enough interruption.

Black Star scoffed at this before starting down the hallway, deliberate in his steps and choice of door, the last one on the right, opening it and letting a sliver of light hit a room that mostly looked like a studio. "Yo," he barked into the darkness.

Maka saw movement from the couch in the corner, a mop of stark white hair popping up over the arm. "Shit," came a mutter from the mess of hair.

"Social skills lesson number one: be fucking awake to greet your guests." Black Star flicked the wall switch, flooding the room with light.

"Shit," Soul groaned again, blinking slowly to adjust.

That was surprise number two, just the way he looked. Maka thought the white hair was abnormal enough but through his slow blinks, she caught the deep crimson of his eyes, his grimace showing off the pointy nature of his teeth. She'd heard of cosplay, but sleeping in your vampire look? Wouldn't that be uncomfortable? A strange, drifting thought crossed her mind that hadn't she seen someone like this before? But it had to just be internet scrolling.

"Sorry," Soul muttered before his eyes finally adjusted and finally fell on her. He had tried to prepare himself, sending the all-day message that she wouldn't remember him so there was no use in letting those feelings of his one, single, lame memory overwhelm him. It didn't help. She wasn't fifteen anymore, that was for sure, but those eyes were the same, brilliantly green and widely blinking at him. "Hey," he hated the lame, breathless quality to his voice.

"Hi, I'm Maka." The cheer was punctuated with her outreached hand, waving in front of Soul's face.

See? Doesn't remember you. Not for a minute. "Soul." He took her hand, giving it the obligatory shake.

Black Star didn't bother to watch the way that moment lingered, just squeezed past Maka to get in arm's length of Soul, popping him one of the back of the head. "Did you shower today?"

"For fuck's sake," Soul muttered, fanning out his hand at Maka. "She doesn't need to hear this."

"She shouldn't have to smell you, either." Black Star lifted Soul by the back of the collar, getting him off the couch. "Go shower. Wake yourself up. Come back ready to work."

Soul motioned at Maka again, "What about-"

"I'll wait with her, just get going." Black Star gave him a push, catapulting Soul a couple of steps forward almost out of the door.

With a sigh and plethora of curses under his breath, Soul stumbled the rest of the way out into the hallway, affording Maka only one last glance before he did.

"Sorry for that," Black Star muttered.

"It's OK." Maka couldn't stop herself from staring out the doorway into the hall, watching as Soul meandered from his bedroom across the way before heading towards the door perpendicular to them which she could only assume was the bathroom. In a minute, the shower started to run. "Is he… OK?"

"No," Black Star answered immediately and without hesitation.

"Then…?"

Black Star started around the room, turning on equipment and clearing up and random clutter. "Look, he'll get the job done. He just takes some warming up. I knew I should have come here first," the last part of that sentence had trailed off into a mutter, Black Star staring off at the couch like it still held Soul in it.

Maka hesitated, finding that her hands suddenly felt out of place, searching for a spot to grab along her arms to hold herself. "Is he OK?" she found herself repeating but the tone wasn't so much inquisitive but worried, not for herself but for that song of his that seemed to play on repeat in the back of her mind.

Black Star sighed, "It's not my business to tell and I don't suggest asking him right away. He runs scared at the first sign of attention. I will say, well, that I guess he's better, he's trying or whatever. Just…" Maka was surprised by the sudden drilling of Black Star's eyes, the apprehension that gripped a face that normally held onto a firm blissful ignorance. "Give him a chance, OK? I know today was weird, and he'll probably keep doing one thing or another that isn't completely normal but give him a shot."

"Of course," Maka smiled softly, trying to dissolve the look on Black Star's face.

"The last year…" Black Star still couldn't give in to her smile, the fearful memory pulling at the back of his mind. "It wasn't good for him. Too much happened and he didn't handle it so well. You of all people should get that."

"Yeah," Maka's voice warbled in reply. "You… you didn't tell him about that, did you? About me?"

Black Star shook his head quickly, using the momentum to shake the worry from his face. "Again, not my business to tell. What you tell him and what he tells you are your business. I told him you needed a fresh start. So does he. That's the only reason I did any of this." Not true, the back of his mind muttered. You want another safety net for him.

"A fresh start," Maka eased out of her lips. "I can do that."

"Knew you could." Black Star took one last look around the room, throwing up his hands. "OK, I'm out then. He'll get out of the shower and hopefully be a person again."

"He's in the shower!" Maka stuttered out.

"Don't worry, he'll never come out naked," Black Star laughed, "Full dressed or I owe you a hundred bucks."

Maka's eyes narrowed quizzically as she shook her head, "That's not what I mean, he's-"

"Here," Soul interrupted. Black Star could keep his money, Soul dressed head to toe and the only hint he'd even touched the water the saturation of his hair, making it hang limply around his face for once. "You ready?"

"If you are," Maka offered.

"Alright, I'm out." Black Star tried to squeeze past Soul, losing momentum as Soul grasped at his shoulder. "You can be alone with someone," he smirked as he raised his eyebrows.

Soul hesitated, looking at Maka and then back at Black Star. "Whatever." The stop turned to a push, sending Black Star into the hallway.

Black Star made it all the way to the end of the hallway, fingers gripping the knob before throwing a glance over his shoulder. Soul was still stationary, staring at the blue-haired boy. "Don't act stupid."