I don't own Fairy Tail.

As always, I must say something at the beginning. All the songs – and the titles of the chapters as well – are from the soundtrack of "Begin Again". Truth to be said, I haven't watched it yet, but I got the CD with those songs and, God, did it make me think and cry. It's just amazing!

So, enjoy this story, which came to life because of a little vagary of mine :)

Let's Begin Again

Like a Fool

He was lost. So fucking lost, plus he had nowhere to go, nor to stay even for a day. But there was so much more to that. Because he was also hurting. He was depressed. Betrayed. He felt damn misplaced. And he was not even sure which of those was the worst.

Sting Eucliffe was walking around the city in his two-days half elegant shirt with long sleeves and stylish black trousers. The same outfit as on that day. Two days before… He had spent two days, wandering around with no aim, with no desire to actually take care of himself or to get himself together. Two fucking days of thinking and finding his own guilt in every little thing — according to what she had yelled to him, it was entirely his fault… Those words were lingering in his mind, hurtfully knocking on the walls of his mind. Two damn days of grieving… And he doubted that anything would change soon. If at all.

The truth was, he'd lost everything. Every little thing he'd believed in, each goal he'd wanted to reach, all of the aspirations leading his life… And there he was, wrapped in the loneliness and sense of nothingness, suffering.

Suddenly, the man stopped. He looked at the view in front of him, a café where people were sitting, chatting, laughing…

He grimaced, another spike piercing his already ripped heart.

God who doesn't exist, I want to die.

But back to the beginning.

Sting Eucliffe was a normal man, living in a flat, having almost everything he desired. Anyone'd have called him lucky. First, there was his beautiful fiancée whom he loved like no one else on that planet. Then, there was his job, a dream one; not too tiring, but they paid extremely well. Next, he had time both for himself and his loving girlfriend; he could spare a moment for his hobby, doing what he loved and was happy about. And he had an amazing, truthful friend since forever.

Two days before, there was nothing special on that day — well, maybe except for some conference he had at work. Despite that fact, Sting left his office a little earlier and went to a music shop to look at the pianos, admiring their modern infrastructure and different colors of sounds each of them was making. He adored doing it, playing the piano himself and having some idea about music.

After some time, though, he headed back home, expecting his fiancée, Yukino Aguria, to prepare something for dinner. She had been strangely busy during the last week and had difficulties with that, which resulted in Sting simply eating out. Yeah, well. Maybe something was bothering her. He wanted to know, but waited for the woman to tell him herself.

Finally, Sting arrived at their flat earlier than any other day. He wanted to surprise Yukino and maybe call Rogue to invite him for the evening, after he and his fiancée would spend some time together.

Yet, when the blond man opened the front door with his key and entered the flat, he sensed something was off and his smile froze. It was just too silent… Suddenly, he heard a moan. A moan? Sting frowned. It was definitely Yukino's voice, but why would she whimper like that? Then he heard it again. Another one. And then a growl. But, that time, it wasn't girly. Oh, hell no.

He was completely frozen, listening to the sounds she and some other guy were making. The smile crept off his face, making it resemble a stony mask. It was almost obvious what were those noises… But he had to check it, to be sure. He needed to know who was that guy. Another guy… A loud yelp was heard and Sting knew exactly when Yukino could make such a sound. He felt like he has missed a step on a long staircase. With each step he was falling… Lower and lower… Hitting another step with his head every time any of them voiced their pleasure aloud… Falling helplessly… And, at the long last, hitting the ground hard, uncontrollably, wincing, when he opened the bedroom's door.

Yukino was on top of his only and best friend, Rogue, there, in their bed, naked, and obviously in the middle of having passionate sex. Sting was standing there, not able to utter even a monosyllable. His whole world crumbled down, falling on his head. He had failed as an Atlas of his own life, not being able to hold it anymore and it collapsed on him with all of its might.

Eucliffe was still completely paralyzed when the woman turned around and cried. "Sting?!"

He didn't want to see them anymore. Doing that anymore. The man turned around roughly and ran to the living room, trying to fight the tears. There were so many emotions gathering in him, and with every second, there were more. Betrayal, hurt, rage, helplessness, jealously, sadness, even depression, feeling of uselessness, guilt… Everything at once, making him yell. Cry in passion, anger, desire to kill, to howl, to destroy something.

It all'd been ruined. Everything.

Out of the blue, Yukino ran into the room, wrapped in a sheet. Sting shot her a despising glare, not even caring about her teary eyes. A loud crack meant that Rog— He'd left, running away and probably saving his skin.

"Sting… I'm sorry that you've found out like this, but—"

"You unfaithful, ungrateful hoe…" He whispered, not trusting his own voice to be louder just yet.

"Understand, you were never here! I was lonely, I was alone, I wanted someone to love, not to miss during all those days!" Aguria shouted in despair. "It's you who—"

"SO IT'S MY FAULT?!" Sting roared, fury taking over him completely. "THAT YOU'RE SCREWING MY BEST FRIEND UNDER MY FUCKING NOSE, YOU WHORE?!"

"I never meant to hurt you. I just—"

"Spare me this crap." Eucliffe barked. "How long?"

"… Three months."

"Fine. Get out."

"W-what…?"

"Get the fuck out of my flat! My life!"

"S-Sting, calm down, it was just a—"

"GO AWAY FROM ME!" He yelled, his eyes narrowed. His heart was in pain, the worst one he'd ever felt so far. "I'll send your things tomorrow morning. If you don't leave now, you'll have to gather them yourself… From the street down there."

"But… But!" Yukino cried, her small body shaking with spasms of hysterics.

"Leave. Screwed woman. Just leave."

"CURSE YOU!" The white head said dramatically, then shouted. "Curse you and your fucking ideal world, where I'm happy with what I had! You're the one to blame, you yourself, Eucliffe." She angrily caught her palm and, having taken off the engagement ring, threw it into her former boyfriend. "Choke on this!"

Sting didn't say anything, but he approached a garbage box and threw the ring away. That was just how he cared. He stopped with… With whatever it had been. Aguria winced at that.

"Out."

Yukino shot him a last look, then ran off to dress up. Sting fell on an armchair, feeling worse than shit itself. I… I have nothing. Now, I have nothing at all. The man looked around the flat that he had used to be proud of… But not anymore. In every square meter he saw a piece of Yukino… Of her… And he hated it. He hated every wall, painted in the color which they'd chosen together. Every piece of furniture, every carpet… It was screaming her. He realized he couldn't stay there anymore. I need to call my agent and sell it as soon as possible.

A loud slam of the door proved that the woman left him as well.

Now, it was only him and the pain.

It was almost a week since he'd been left by his supposedly closest people. Nothing was better, but neither was it worse. What's more, Sting'd finally made something presentable out of himself — he showered, combed his hair, and changed the clothes.

Right after the incident, he'd sent away all of her belongings and gathered what he wanted to spare from selling. Good thing that he had much money saved — just enough for the new start… Although he didn't have any doubt that it was gonna be hard and would take much time.

Unfortunately, his former fiancée had other plans and wanted to contact him badly. Therefore, Sting moved out and found a niche hotel where she wouldn't find him all that easily. Or so he hoped.

His last day consisted of laying in his hotel room, doing nothing but thinking and suffering in silence. Wanting to be left alone, he even asked the cleaning lady out, being rather rude.

Well. If she knew, she surely wouldn't blame him…

His mobile phone was switched off; he wanted no calls or messages. And he knew he would get drowned in all of those if he turned the device on. But he had no need for that at the moment.

Sting rolled on the second side, his eyes staring ahead as if he saw nothing. Because he didn't. There were no emotions in there. The usual glint of happiness, good humor, sarcasm, arrogance, or any other feeling just wasn't there. Emptiness — that was all.

Suddenly, a loud thumping on the door snapped him out of his thoughts. He frowned. What in hell?

"Mr. Eucliffe? There's a letter to you. May you open the door so I could give it to you?"

He stood up, slowly coming closer. "Who is it from?"

"Um, just a second… Oh, yes. Mrs. Yukino Aguria…"

"Send it away." Sting almost yelled in anger. "All of them. If anything like this would come again, burn it."

"B-but… Sir, there's also a phone call from the same woman…" The hotel's service sounded completely taken aback by his rage. "And she announced that she'll come tomorrow…"

"Fuck you all!" That time, he spat, losing control. "I thought you had any rules of privacy, but guess I was wrong. I'm leaving today."

"S-s-sir?!"

"Leave."

Sting sighed to calm himself down. He heard when the service woman was running away, scared. He didn't blame her, though; he was a little, um, harsh, after all.

The only thing he knew was that he couldn't stay there any longer. If she was already aware of his location, he had to disappear again. And he had an idea how to do it.

Five hours later, Eucliffe arrived at another city. It was already dark, the chilly air hitting his cheeks and hands. He went to his new hotel straight ahead, leaving everything for later.

At the reception, he instructed an amazed woman not to give his surname to anyone and to not reveal his presence to whoever would ask for that. Hesitantly, but also ate up by curiosity, she promised him that and passed the room key. Sting nodded and disappeared in an elevator.

Having left his things there, he went out and ate in a fancy restaurant, feeling like he needed to do something good for himself. Emotions were still stirring inside of him… And still weren't the nicest.

Then, having some time on his hands, he decided to take a walk. The city was quite charming, but he wasn't able to let the emotion of awe go through the walls built of misery. She and he were the goddamn reason, of course. It still was fresh and raw. How could it not…

Suddenly, he stopped in front of a cafeteria and a bar, Café de Bleu. There was a stage seen through the window, slightly hovering over the customers. Sting grimaced. Nearly all of them were smiling, giggling, talking cheerfully, and so on… He was damn fed up with all of those positive emotions. He felt like unhappiness itself.

Preparing to leave, he saw a poster. It mentioned having a new singer and inviting everyone to come and listen to her.

!The only occasion to hear an amazing singer!

Lucy Heartfilia

in

Café de Bleu

Singing her new exceptional masterpieces!

Each day during the next several days — one song finishing other performances.

Free entrance.

Sting spat. He had never heard of any Lucy Heartfilia… Was she some new pop star, or something? Not that he cared too much; he'd rather not have stayed, but before he had time to move, one of the waitresses spotted him and waved friendly.

"Hi there! Want a table?" She asked.

"No, actually…"

"The last free one without reservation! And the song of today begins in ten!" She grinned and already led him to a fourth table from the scene, situated slightly to its left. "Here!"

"Um, thanks…" Sting murmured and unwillingly sat down.

"Would you like something to drink?" The waitress was not easily gone, seemingly completely unaffected by his gloomy humor.

"A mojito, please." He agreed just to be finally left alone and recuperate his peace.

"Right away, sir!"

At last, she was gone. The man mused with a frown, gazing around the café. There were many different people, from youth to mid-aged ones. All of them excited about something, definitely positively. Pain in the ass… Not in the mood to fight with anyone accusing him of staring, his sight moved around him. To his right, there was a brunet, sitting like on pins. He was literally sweating, from time to time glancing at the stage with a mixture of hope and terrify. Sting kept his unemotional face and glanced ahead of him; two elegant people, apparently a marriage, were talking silently, caressing each others' hands. Shitty moment, really. Finally, on his right, two young ladies were chatting, openly describing their life. Screw it, I'm heading out.

But the waitress, seeming to have a sixth sense or some telekinetic abilities, appeared in front of him with the drink and a smile. "Enjoy."

Sting nodded, turning grumpy. His plan was interrupted again.

Suddenly, the place was lightened down and soon, the stage was the only source of it left. A woman with white hair came out, earning a small applause. She shushed the audience and smiled sweetly.

"Good evening again! Now that we're done with the young talents, we can begin with the evenings with our great Lucy Heartfilia! Lucy, come to me." She said and reached out her hand in the direction of a curtain.

A young woman, somewhere around his age, crept up beside the white-haired one. Blond hair, big brown eyes, nice figure. She was looking shy and rather hesitant, but bowed down gracefully and even waved to some people in a friendly manner. She bobbed her head on the announcer and moved to the piano standing in the middle of the podium. Lucy sat down and gazed around the tables. Sting felt her sight sliding on him and landing to his left — on the brunet, who was visibly ecstatic. If it wasn't for his perceptive observing abilities, Sting wouldn't have noticed a heavy shadow appearing on her face — but only for a second. Then she smiled and played a few notes of introduction. A man from the back of the podium played the guitar. Sounded nice, but the man had his own theory. Great, she probably will sing about shit like love and happiness and living happily ever after. What did I ever do to anyone to be here?

Sting wasn't prepared to what happened next. Lucy took a breath and sang with a clear, deep voice filled with emotions and thrilling frankness, causing goosebumps on his whole being.

We take a chance from time to time

And put our necks up on a line

And you have broken every promise that we made

And I have loved you anyway

It was hard to explain what was happening to him. Sure, he liked the performance from the musical point of view, but that wasn't it. Sting experienced both uneasiness and relief at the same time; she was singing about something he knew so well. Something he was feeling right now. He was damn sure of it. Then, Lucy lifted her head and gazed somewhere over him. He inhaled deeply. Her eyes were still, seeing nothing and showing nothing. Just like mine…

Took a fine time to leave me

Hanging out at drive

Understand now I'm grieving

So don't you waste my time

There, he heard her voice crack a little. Lucy sounded like she was about to cry. Not knowingly, Sting also gulped, his eyes glued to her form. Shit. How was she doing that, singing about emotions so… Honestly?

Cause you have taken all the wind out of my sails

And I have loved you just the same

His wounded heart, not even cicatrized yet, but sloppily sewed in a thread of different color, was opened again. All of his pain was visible right on his face now. And, truthfully, he didn't even care anymore.

We finally find this, then you're gone

Then chasing rainbows all alone

And you have cursed me when there was no one left to blame

And I have loved you just the same

His mojito was long forgotten. For him, there were only her and the words she was singing. Those words which were piercing him, scarring, but also were kind of a catharsis of the moment. God, did he want to cry.

There was a longer pause, Lucy turned to the side, playing the piano and making some improvisations. Sting inspected her face to see if she really meant it. If she really understood. He realized that her features were reflecting his insides. Fuck, she does know what she sings about. At last, the music slowed down and the woman lowered her head so that her bangs covered the upper part of her face. Shaking, she finished:

And you have broken every single fucking rule

And I have loved you like a fool

Out of nowhere, the music ended. Eucliffe heard a sob covered by the swear word, then understood the intention in those recited last words — she broke down. But she did it. She finished the song, which was a part of her. And which needed much bravery and courage to be shown in the open.

The lights were turned on abruptly and the audience erupted into clapping and whistling. Lucy Heartfilia stood up, still covered under her hair, and faked a smile. Bowing down, the blond hair moved and Sting saw that her eyes were not smiling along with the lips. They resembled his own; not shiny, hurt, empty.

The blond male was clapping with others when he came out of the shock. Eventually, all of the people gathered under the stage ceased making the applause and the chatting resounded with double force. He was pondering while finishing his drink, not sure about how he felt.

"Was it worth it?" Sting raised his sight only to spot the waitress beside him, taking his empty glass with a smile. "The performance?"

"Yeah."

"Good, then. Lucy is really good in singing emotions… In fact, she's great in anything, especially fixing people." The girl grinned. "Huh, she fixed me!"

"Fixed…" He mumbled, turning his sight at where the blond singer'd been standing a moment ago. Actually, she looked like she needed to be fixed that time… Suddenly, he snapped out of it and furrowed his brows. "Sorry. Can I pay?"

"Cash or card?"

"Cash."

Thus, Eucliffe paid for his mojito and headed out into the cold of the exterior world. He was thinking about what just had happened and what it meant for him. Because, he was aware of that, it did.

When he reached his hotel, he stopped in the entrance, half-stepping in. Sting wanted to punch himself. He groaned. Shit. I get it.

The man hurried back to the Café de Bleu and encountered the same waitress, who had been serving him. He was short in breath due to running, but it didn't really bother her.

"Yes?" She asked kindly.

"I-I want to… Reserve… The same table… For the rest of her… Performances." He huffed out, glancing over the place in search for the magically singing Heartfilia.

"Ha! I knew that. I mean, um, sure. Name?"

"Sting Eucliffe."

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