Chapter 1

He was an ass. You know what I mean? He was the kind of person that no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, he just kept coming up to you, trying to catch your attention with the stupidest pick up lines. The worst part?

He was my next door neighbor.

I lived alone in my one bedroom apartment, room 308, on the third floor of the building, and of all the rooms he could have in that building, he had to be in the one next door. Of all 375 rooms, he had to be in room 310.

My previous neighbors, a set of twins by the names of Kairi and Namine Hikari, had decided after six months that this neighborhood was too noisy for their liking. There were lots of gang-related shootings down the street, and, sadly, this building had recently become known for drug busts and prostitution. Just fabulous. And so, much to my dismay, they left. A week later, he moved in.

His name was Axel Kasaiko. And he liked parties—all the time His hair was an unearthly shade of red, and it looked like he had never brushed it a day in his life. Not to mention his eyes were kind of…creepy, if you will. They were insanely cat-like, and it was kind of eerie to come up the hallway to find those lime green eyes staring at you before he gave you a satanic grin and expelled a bark-like laugh. He usually wore blacks or dark grays, clunky military-like boots, and was so thin that, even though I hated the guy, I couldn't help but worry about him.

Whoa, rewind and freeze—I haven't even introduced myself. My name is Roxas, Roxas Akari. I'm turning 21 in December 18th, and I like living alone, thank you very much. I'm training to be an Elementary school teacher, much to the disbelief of many of my friends. Of course, with a neighbor like Axel, it's really difficult to get anything done.

Anyway, Axel also had a room mate—some guy named Demyx Mizu. Unlike Axel, I got along with Demyx fairly well. He was a music major, but hadn't done much with it. Instead of following his dream in a pursuit of music, he was a local bartender. Over all, he was fun. He had a blond mullet, which I repeatedly told him was out of style, and really nice blue eyes. He always said mine were prettier, but I beg to differ.

It was really weird to me on how two people—one who I despised and the other I relatively liked—could possibly be best friends and roomies. Well, I guess not everyone has the same opinion.

Anyway, after the third week of these two living next door, I had gotten rather sick of the pounding music and screaming next door. I was running low on sleep, I had a major assessment I needed to study for, and I had my next class at six in the morning. Is it safe to say I wasn't a happy camper? After listening, and praying, for about an hour, I slammed my pen down on the table, standing so quickly I nearly knocked the small table over. "That's it!" I shouted, my voice cracking in frustration. I stopped out into the hallway, where a few other tenants were standing around and complaining, and kicked at door 310. A few of the other hallway loiterers stared at me until I snapped at them. I kicked the door again, hard enough to make the noise echo through out the hall. After a few moments, some guy I didn't recognize opened the door.

He couldn't have been much taller then me—an inch or two at most—with violet peppered tresses spilling over his right eye, which I can assume was a dark purple, like his left. He stared at me for a moment, oblivious to the pounding music behind him. "What?" he muttered after a moment, totally uninterested.

Shaking my head furiously, I growled. "Look, I don't know who the hell you are," I hissed, "But I want to speak to either Axel or Demyx, right here, right now, you understand?" He stared at me emotionlessly for a few more moments before ducking back into the room, yelling for Demyx. I stood there impatiently, tapping my foot as I waited.

After a few minutes, Demyx came stumbling into the hall, clicking the door shut as he leaned against it to face me. He was smiling his usual intoxicated grin—though I think he was really drunk this time. "Hey ya, Roxas. What's up?"

I scowled momentarily. "Look, Demyx, I like you, but I've had enough." At his quizzical look, I sighed, rubbing at my temples. "Okay, there are kids in this building and people who have jobs and school. We need sleep. Are you following me?" He nodded vaguely. "Okay. You need to shut this party down. No more parties, unless on the weekends, okay? Otherwise, I will call the police on you guys. Understood?"

When I mentioned the cops, Demyx's dilated azure eyes widened, and he grabbed me roughly by the shoulders. "No-no-no-no-no! You can't call the cops on us, okay?! You can't-can't-can't! We'll get into so much, mucho trouble! Don't call the cops! I'll stop it, I promise!"

Needless to say, I was a bit freaked out by the fact that Demyx had started shaking me in his urgency of telling me I couldn't call the cops. "Okay-okay-okay! Demyx! If you shut this party down, I won't call the police. Calm down." He stopped shaking me, and I gently removed his hands from my shoulders. "Just get this party out of here, and you're in the clear. Do you understand?" It took him a moment to process what I said, but he nodded none-the-less. "Good. Take care of it." He nodded again and went inside again. I stood outside for a few minutes, and sure enough, the music stopped, and a large number of people, including the guy who had answered the door, piled out of the apartment. It kind of reminded me of a clown car—how could there be so many people in one tiny space? Many of the tenants, me included, heaved a sigh of relief. Once the crowd dispersed, Demyx clamored out of the room, grinning stupidly, as though looking for approval. "Good job Demyx. I won't call the cops." He clapped before waving and retreating back into the room and slamming the door shut. Shaking my head, I returned to my room, like many of the others. Sitting at the coffee table, where my work was spread upon, I glanced at the clock: 11:45 PM. I held my head in my hands. This was going to be one long night of studying.

XxXxXxXxX

BZZZT! BZZZT! BZZZT! BZZZT! BZZZT! BZZZT! BZZZT!

"Ugh, shut up!" There are certain sounds in this world that I despise even more than Axel Kasaiko. Such as my alarm clock at five in the morning. And I'm going to give you some insight as to why I still use a traditional buzzing alarm clock verses a CD player alarm clock—Axel broke it. But that's what happens when he bursts into your apartment, drunk off his ass, and grabs everything in sight. Eventually, something willget broken.

BZZZT! BZZZT! BZZZT! BZZZT! BZZZT! BZZZT! BZZZT!

"God dammed, I hear you, shut up." I slammed my hand angrily on the snooze button. I hadn't gotten to bed until three in the morning. I was almost tempted to not go to class at all. Almostbeing the key word. I sat up, still groggy, but knowing if I didn't get up soon, I'd hear that dreaded BZZZT again. Damn, damn it to hell. I stretched, sighing with satisfaction when I felt my back pop. Hesitantly, I threw back the covers and touched my bare feet to the cold hardwood floor. I hissed as I stood up, fumbling in the dark on my over-sized checkered pajama pants. I rubbed at my straw-colored tresses, yawning as I stumbled into the living room, clicking on the nearest lamp, cursing loudly at the mini ray of faux-sunshine. It burned my eyes this early in the morning. Mumbling every foul word I could think of, I tottered into the kitchen, longing for the coffee that hadn't been made yet. That's the wonderful thing about Starbucks—you don't have to make it. And while I usually would stop by Starbucks on the way to class, I felt it was too early in the morning to hassle with traffic. Not to mention I didn't have any money; I had spent the rest of my paycheck on this months rent. But that's one reason why I kept a coffee maker—just for moments like this. Scooping the coffee grinds into the filter numbly, I cherished the smell, and it woke me up a little bit. And for that I was glad. So, while my morning nectar brewed, I decided to shower. Strolling to the bathroom, now more awake than I was a few minutes ago, I started to hum a song I'd heard last time I was at Starbucks—"Angel of Mine", or something like that. I turned on the faucet with a grunt before slipping my pants off. I scowled at my reflection in the mirror. Not only was I thin and pale, but my hair looked like I had just shagged the living hell out of someone. That was one quality I wished my hair didn't possess—it was what my cousin called "after-sex hair". It didn't matter what I did to it, my hair would never cooperate, and looked like I just screwed with some body around the corner. Needless to say…it was kind of irritating.

I sighed, turning from my reflection and stepping into the shower, hissing slightly as the hot water stabbed at my skin, roses springing to the surface as the drops pelted my back. Slowly, as my body became accustomed to the temperature, I ran the water over my head, running my hands over my hair. After a good ten to fifteen minutes of scrubbing and rinsing, I shut off the water, and climbed out of the tub, wrapping a fluffy white towel around my waist. I padded across the hall to my room, clicking on the light long enough to grab my clothes out of my dresser—a pair of blue jeans, and a gray long-sleeved shirt. Oh, and that infamous question of boxer or briefs? Screw them both—they're constricting. Having retrieved my clothes, I walked back to the bathroom, dropping the towel and using it to wipe the fog off the mirror. I slid my pants up my legs and over my ass, zipping them carefully—they hung low on my hips, making me smile slightly. Who said I couldn't try to be a little seductive? I then slid my shirt over my head, the fabric sticking to my still-wet back. I wrapped the towel around my neck, watching my hair—which was actually lying flat for a change—drip. Sighing, I returned to the kitchen, where the coffee pot greeted me with the scent of its wonderful nectar. I smiled, pouring me a cup and sipping at it was I went to gather my school work for class. As I placed each of the items in my messenger bag—like most of my belongings, this was checkered in black and white--I scanned through the papers' contents, reviewing hurriedly.

As I returned the final notebook to its place, I glanced at the clock. I yelped, nearly spilling my coffee: 5:45AM. I had fifteen minutes until class! I slammed my coffee down on the table and ran to the bathroom, rubbing my hair with the towel as I ran. I threw the towel on the floor and brushed hurriedly through my flaxen tresses, flipping them to the right. I stared in the mirror, checking that each strand was in place, before running back into the living room. I threw on my jacket—black, with a white stripe down the sleeves and sides, white trim on the hood and sleeves, and the design from my favorite band on the back of a distorted upside-down heart—followed by my messenger bag. I stumbled hurriedly to the entrance, sliding my black and white sneakers over my currently bare feet; I'd regret that later. I then threw the door open and flew down the hallway, dodging Old Man Dithers as he made his daily attempt to retrieve the newspaper—which he failed every time because of his bad back. I would, again, regret this as well. I darted down the stairs, leaping over cats and shooting passed other adults on their way to work. I even made the attempt to slide down the banister like they do in the movies. After much jumping and running, I ran out of the building just in time to catch the bus.

The driver looked at me and smiled. "You're running a bit late, aren't you Roxas?" Panting, I merely nodded, paying my fare and collapsing in the nearest empty seat. The bus ride was pretty uneventful, unless you want to count the number of hobos on one side of the street—to the left, 20, to the right, 30—until I arrived on campus with five minutes to get to class—and of course, I ran as fast I could, jumping over fellow students in the process, until I slammed headlong into the class door, falling flat on my face in the middle of the room just as the bell rang. My teacher stared at me a moment before smiling. "You made it Roxas. Now please, get to your seat."

XxXxXxXxX

The assessment was long. And dull. And full of the crap I had forgotten to study. Oh joy. And I for one was convinced I failed it. Just FAB-ulous In fact, I walked the 2 mile trek home in my "I'm-absolutely-positive-I-failed-the-biggest-test-of-my-life" mood. I was exhausted, and quite frankly, nearly knocked out about 6 homeless people who begged me for food. And it wasn't until I yelled at the sixth that I realized how hungry I was. "Ah man…" I hissed, pouting as I felt the acid in my stomach send a wave of nausea through my esophagus. "I'm starving…" It was almost ironic that I was announcing this around hobos who had most likely not had a bit in three days. And they took pity on me. Great, I just reached a new personal low.

By the time I got to the apartment building again, it was running on nine-o-clock. I trumped up the stairs, less than thrilled to know that I had just about as much food in my apartment as in my stomach. As I got to my floor, I figured I could probably get food from the woman two doors down with the nine cats, not counting the one who lived in her moo-moo. She was more than willing to feed anyone who listened to her babble about all the cats she had ever owned. I sighed; I didn't feel like subjecting myself to that today.

"Please, Miss Yura, you need to help me! Something's wrong!"

"Demyx Mizu, you owe me money—why should I help you after you and your room mate has kept me up night after night ever since you two moved in here?

"Please, Miss Yura!"

The woman with black hair slammed the door in Demyx's face. I cocked my head to the side, walking up to the obviously distressed blond. "Demyx?" I muttered, tapping his shoulder to catch his attention. "Is something wrong?"

His cobalt irises stared at me for a moment, like trying to remember who I was. Then he grabbed me by the shoulders again—I'm detecting a pattern here—and shook me urgently. "Roxas! Yes, something—I woke up, and—lying there and—I don't know and—and—and—" he started hyperventilating, at which I sighed and sat him down.

"Demyx." He blinked at me. Good, I got his attention. "Who was lying where?"

"Axel," he said immediately. "On the floor."

I nodded. This was a good start. "Okay, what's wrong with Axel?"

He shook his head furiously. "I don't know!"

I sighed again, this time in despair. This wasn't getting me anywhere. "Alright than, take me to your apartment." He stood up quickly, nodding before dragging me—quite literally—to his and Axel's apartment. Stepping in, I groaned; I so did not want to be here…Truth be known, though, it was just as I had imagined—a total and complete mess. There was one couch in the middle of the room, which was stained with god-knows-what, remains of food containers scattered all over the floor, and beer bottles as for as the eye could see. Bluntly put, it was disgusting. Shoving my disgust aside, I scanned the room, soon finding my least favorite person sprawled on the floor in the hallway. I sauntered over casually, kneeling beside him. Demyx had obviously turned him over earlier. "When did you find him?" I asked, touching at his throat, searching for a pulse.

"Like, fifteen to twenty minutes ago."

I nodded. It took a minute, but after much concentration, I found a pulse, however faint it was. And slow—too slow. "Call an ambulance," I told Demyx. "We need to get him to the hospital." Demyx did as he was told as calmly as he could muster—which was pretty damn calm compared to how he had gotten my attention earlier. After about fifteen minutes—for god sakes, a pizza could get here faster—the paramedics showed up, and took Axel off on a gurney. Deep in the bowels of my mind, I wished he'd die, but on the other hand, I hoped he didn't—for Demyx's sake at least. They seemed really close, and I couldn't imagine loosing your best friend—not like I had one anyway. I was about ready to just go home and mope in the fact that I had no food—not like it would have mattered much anyway—but Demyx kept pulling on my arm, saying, "come with me," and, "I don't want to be alone." God, he was clingy. But seeing as his best friend was going to the hospital, I humored him and stuck to him, following him down the stairs and out the building to his blue 1973 Camero, climbing in without a word—which was fine, because Demyx was doing enough talking for the both of us—as we drove after the ambulance. I drowned out Demyx's frantic banter by staring out the window, bored out of my mind—almost literally, I could have sworn I saw it walk away—as I, once again, counted the hobos on the sidewalk. But the hobos were joined by pimps and their hoes, now. Oh Joy.

"—and I mean, it's not like I expect you to like him or anything, but I think it's really sweet that you're helping Axel out like this, even though you hate his guts; actually, I was wondering, why do you hate him so much? Other than the fact that we're loud, we give you no reason to hate us, then again, the whole damn building hates us, but why do I give a fuck? What am I saying, I don't! Neither does Axel really—are you even listening to me?"

I blinked, staring at Demyx, who was pouting in the driver's seat. I was partially shocked at the fact that he had finally stopped talking, but also shocked that he had asked me why I hated Axel. Grant it, I had always hated him, ever since the two moved in, but until this point, I hadn't really asked myself why. I mean, it wasn't like I knew him at all—I hadn't really given myself the chance to. It was just a feeling I had when the two had entered the building. But now, I wasn't so sure.

"Are you ever going to answer me?" Demyx asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice. Apparently, he wasn't used to being ignored.

I was silent for a few more minutes, staring out the windshield, trying to discover the reason for my strong dislike for the red head. And sadly—I couldn't find a decent reason. And that made me feel like the ass I'd decided Axel was. And that, quite frankly, hurt. I sighed, knowing Demyx was watching me out of the corner of his eye. "I…really don't know…"

Demyx grinned sheepishly. "Now, which question are you answering?"

I sighed, banging my head on the passenger window. "I don't know why I hate Axel. He just…I don't know…he bugs me. He creeps me out, you know?"

Demyx shrugged offhand, turning into the hospital parking lot. "Yeah, well, he does that a lot. He likes to creep people out. But once you get to know him…he's not so bad. In fact, he's kind of sweet. And REAL selfless. It's wicked awesome. He's like, the best friend anyone could ever have." He parked the Camero, and then turned to me. "Just give him a chance. I think you'll find he's not as he seems." He then climbed out, and, after a moment's hesitation, I followed suit. I had to take four times the strides to keep up with Demyx as we headed for the main entrance to the building. Now, I don't know about you, but every time I enter a hospital, I just get this horrible feeling in my gut, and I smell something really bad. While most of my friends say it's either the smell of old people, or my imagination, I'm fully convinced it's the smell of death. Then again, I hate hospitals more than Axel, so that might explain it. Anyway, so while I was busy obsessing over the smell of death, Demyx was signing us into the hospital to visit Axel—and it was during this time I asked myself what I was doing here. I quickly remembered, however, as Demyx dragged me to the elevator, ranting once again at the speed of light. I actually found myself answering with short sounds like, "Nngh," and, "mm." Then there was the agonizing walk from the elevator, down the hall, and into the actual room, where the two dumb asses exchanged greetings of "hey!" and "What the fuck did you do?!" Most of their drunken banter I ignored, until I heard Axel ask, "So, what's blondie over there here for?" Demyx was all smiles then—god it burned—and pulled me over beside him and began having a spaz attack over the fact that I came with him after he begged and pleaded.

"Huh," Axel got to mutter a minute or two later, watching me with those freaky-ass eyes, slightly interested. "So the tin-boy has a heart after all, huh?"

The moment I heard this, my brain shut down completely. And I still cannot believe what I did next. There was this annoyed little, "keh" noise, followed by a hand on the hip, and the "oh-no-you-didn't" stance. "Excuse me?" I hissed. "Who are you calling a tin-boy, dick? I'll have you know, that if it weren't for me, you'd still be lying on the floor, and maybe even dead for whatever the hell was wrong with you. And you know what? I would have been happy! And I don't even know why!" Frustrated, I turned on my heel, feeling a bit foolish about my rampage. I slammed his door, leaning against it. I rubbed at my temples with my fingertips; I was starting to get a headache. Why in the world was I getting so worked up over this? He was a conceded, no-good dick, and yet…I let him get to me. It wasn't the first time I'd dealt with someone like him; hell, my boyfriend Hayner Toshi was one of the biggest dicks I knew, but I knew how to handle him. Axel…he was a whole different pedigree, if you know what I mean. I sighed, pushing off the door when I heard Demyx about to open it.

Demyx was genuinely concerned, I'll give him that. There was just something there that told me that. With a furrowed brow and quiet voice, he asked, "Are you okay, Roxas?"

To be honest, I wasn't so sure. My heart felt heavy, and it hurt. I didn't know why. I wanted to just smile and say, "peachy," or something gay like that, but I didn't want to lie. I sighed, and slid down the hospital's ivory wall. "I don't know Demyx. I'm just…I don't know…" I wanted to continue, but I had said all I could say. That and my cell phone started to go off in my bag, and it was a mad dash to get to it. I didn't even bother to look at the screen once I'd found it in the abyss. "Hello?"

"Good god, since when have you answered the phone with 'hello'?"

I smiled, recognizing the voice immediately. "Chill. I didn't look at the caller ID, alright? I was kind of scrambling for my phone. So, what's new, Hayner?"

There was a faint, "Meh" on the other side. "Where are you? I went by your apartment, but you weren't there. Are you even out of class?"

"Yeah, I am." I sighed, glancing at Demyx, giving him the cue to leave. Once he'd slipped into Axel's room, and I was absolutely sure the door was closed, I continued. "You know the asshole next door to me, Axel? Well, he and Demyx had one of their usual parties last night, and I had to break it up. When I came back from class, Demyx was in a panic because he found Axel lying on the floor, unresponsive."

"Duuuude..."

"So, I helped Demyx out, called an ambulance, and then Demyx dragged me into the hospital. And so, here I am."

"I thought you hated hospitals…"

"I do," I muttered. "I was DRAGGED here." I shook my head, scowling as I heard my current boyfriend chuckle. "Anyway, what were you doing at my apartment? You never come over."

"Oh yeah! Are you free tonight?"

I thought about it. I had no class tomorrow, but I did have work. My boss was cool though, and the café I worked at never got busy, so I figured I could call in. "I think so. Why?" I smiled. "What's the occasion?"

"A new club opened up last night, Moonlight I think it's called, and I heard from Seifer that Nobody's Rain is going to be playing there tonight. I wanted to take you, since NR is your favorite band and all."

Nothing in the whole world could describe the fit of joy I went into. "Are you fucking serious?!" I nearly screamed. "Nobody's Rain?! Here?! No fucking way!" I pressed my phone harder to my ear, waiting for Hayner to yell, "PSYCHE!", but when it didn't come, I screamed, "You're SERIOUS!!! OMIGOD! You are not joking, are you?!"

"Nope," Hayner muttered passed a chuckle. "I'll pick you up from your place at nine. Be ready."

"Totally. I love you!"

A chuckle. "Love you too." Click.

Tucking my Nokia in my bag, I stood up with a quick little squeal, a small jig, and opened Axel's door, feeling considerably more cheerful. Demyx stared at me curiously, and Axel raised a perfectly arched brow. "What's got you all jazzed up?" he asked bitterly. "Find out Satan's looking for recruits?"

I grinned, clenching my teeth tightly. "Oh, no, you can't ruin my mood now. NOTHING can ruin me now." Demyx cocked his head to the side. "My boyfriend just called."

"You're gay?" Axel yelled.

"Yes. Anyway, he said that he's going to take me to the new night club, and my favorite band is playing."

"Who's your favorite band?" Demyx asked, genuinely interested.

I smiled, doing another little jig. "Nobody's Rain."

Demyx gasped. "No freaking way! That's ours too! They're in town?!" He grabbed Axel's hands. "Awe, man, we gotta go! We GOTTA go!"

Axel stared at him, one of those dead-pan 'you got to be kidding me' stares. "Uh, earth to Demyx, I'm kind of hospitalized."

Demyx pouted, putting his hands on his hips. "Uh, earth to Axel, I know. I wasn't saying tonight. I was saying when you get out."

"Uh, earth to Demyx," Axel hissed, his voice coming louder now. "I think NR is only here for the night, okay?" Demyx stood there, dumbstruck. I think he forgot about the fact that it was at a club. "Duh."

The neighbor I actually liked looked sadly at his feet. He then wiped away his frown and smiled at me. "Roxas, you have fun! Take pictures if you can for me, okay?" I felt kind of bad, but nodded none-the-less. If he couldn't go, I could at least do him that favor, right? I nodded. "Don't worry about us, okay?"

I nodded again. "Hope you get home okay." I then glared at Axel. "Except for you. I hope you die…" With that, I stomped out of the room, checking my pockets for money to take the bus home.

XxXxXxXxX

"And so, then he told me the Nobody's Rain was in town, performing at the new night club on eighth street. You know, Moonlight? And guess what? He's taking me to see them!" I squealed, echoing the scream of excitement on the other line. Olette Hikiri was one of my best friends—one of only three girls I knew and liked. She was like everyone's sister; well, except for Pence Ota, who was her long time boyfriend of five years.

"I'm so excited for you," she cried, not really interested in the band itself, but interested in my life versus hers. "Hey, how long has it been?"

"How long has what been?" I asked, pulling my black muscle-tank over my back. It was eight-thirty, and I was finishing up preparations for the date.

Olette giggled, and I heard Pence yell, "What do you think?" in the background. "How long have you and Hayner been together? It's about time isn't it?"

Pulling up my leather pants, I blinked. "It's been…what…three years now? Yeah, three years." I heard Olette sigh on the other end. "What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Olette muttered. "It's just that, isn't it about time you guys moved in together?"

I sighed. This wasn't the first time Olette tried to con me into moving in with Hayner, and I knew it wouldn't be the last, either. "Look, Olette, I like my space. And Hayner's not ready for that kind of commitment. Hell, commitment scares him more than flying scares you." I pulled on one of my black steel-toed boots with a grunt. "We're perfectly happy not living with each other, and I don't see why us living together should concern you."

Olette sighed heavily. "You guys are my best friends, and I want to see you happy, that's all."

"Olette, we are happy. Just let it go, okay?" I pulled on my other boot. "If it will make you feel any better, I'll talk to him tonight. Okay?"

Olette giggled, knowing she had won—like always. "Alright. Well, I'll let you go. It's about time for Hayner to pick you up, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I'll call you tomorrow. Tell you how it went." I shut my Nokia, lacing up my boots with the fluid accuracy that told of past experience. This wasn't the first time Hayner had taken me out clubbing. I stood up from the couch, padding to my room. If there was one thing I had to have every time, it was my kandi. Yes, I did spell that right: kandi. Kandi is the multi-colored, glowing, out-of-the-ordinary bracelets and necklaces ravers collect/make. And I had A TON! Not like I went to raves or anything—I hate big crowds—but Hayner did, and always brought me back kandi. As I was putting on the hundreds of bracelets one-by-one, I heard the familiar pattern Hayner always used when he knocked on my door. "It's open!" I heard the door click open, and then slam shut.

"Are you ready yet?" Hayner yelled.

"Almost," I replied, sticking my head out of the bedroom to look at him. As I had suspected, he was wearing his black fishnet tank, leather pants and boots. I smiled. "If you want to go, come help me put on my kandi." He sighed aggravatedly, but succumbed none-the-less. He grabbed a handful of kandi and tried shoving it up my arm—that didn't work so well. I smiled. "This is why it takes so long to put it on."

"And yet it takes less that five seconds to take off," Hayner muttered with slight amazement. He then started trailing each piece up my arm, much quicker at it than I am. In about five minutes, we had one arm done, and half of the other. "Why do you need to wear all this?"

"I don't," I replied, fidgeting with one of the kandi pieces. "But I want to." As he finished the last bracelet, he put the kandi necklace with the glow sticks—all assorted colors—around my neck. "Besides, if we get separated, I'm easy to find."

He smirked. "You're not that easy to lose, sorry to spoil your fun." He grasped the necklace and pulled me forward, our mouths slamming together. Truth be known, it almost hurt, but it felt good all the same. His hands cupped around my ears, pulling me closer, our mouths opening atop each other in harmony. His tongue caressed mine, and I shivered, a small sound bubbling in my throat. He then pulled away with a smile, chuckling as I pouted. He pecked my forehead. "Do you want to see NR or what?" I guess my eyes must have lit up, because he laughed harder, shaking his head. "Okay, c'mon, let's go."

XxXxXxXxX

"I can't believe they had Lucky 3 there too! That was amazing! Didn't you think so, Hayner?"

"Mmm."

"Ooh, that was so fun!" I spun around as we returned to my apartment door. It was going on three am; I knew Hayner had work at nine, and I didn't want to keep him out too much longer. I grasped his hand, smiling. "I really had a great time. Thanks for taking me."

Hayner shrugged off handedly. I knew something was wrong, right then and there, but I just kept telling myself that it was because he was tired. "It was…great."

I frowned. "Haa-kun? Is something wrong?" I clutched at his arm, holding it against my body. "What's wrong…? You're acting weird…" He slid his arm out of my hold, almost aggressively. "Hayner!"

"I'm done, Roxas."

I stared at him, uncomprehending. "Wait, what? What are you talking about?"

He sighed, irritated, and rubbed furiously at the back of his neck. I knew something was really wrong. "Look, Roxas…I've been thinking a lot lately. And I think it's time to move on."

I lit up, thinking that he'd spoken to Olette. "That's what Olette's been telling me! Listen to me; you don't have to if you don't want to."

"No, it's not that," Hayner snapped, causing me to recoil. "I'm not moving in with you. You're not moving in with me. We need to move on. This relationship isn't working."

I froze, staring at him in disbelief. He had said the dreaded four word sentence: "This relationship isn't working." It took me a moment to find my voice again, and even when I did, it was barely there. "What are you saying?" I cried, my voice barely more than a whisper. I blinked furiously, feeling the backs of my eyes burn with the tears that threatened to come. "What are you talking about?"

"What am I saying?" he hissed, leaning in. "Fine Roxas. I thought you were smart, but I'll spell it out for you: We're over. The relationship is over. We're not boyfriends anymore. We're breaking up. You are no longer my world. We should start seeing other people. Have you got the message yet? Cause if not, I've got more ways to say it."

I stared blankly at him. I had nothing to say—what was there to say? My mind had stopped working completely. But suddenly, all at once—the flood gates opened up. The tears I had been holding back came spilling faster than I could comprehend, and I started screaming. "Fine! You know what, Fine! Go! I don't care! It's not me, it's you, right?! But it is me, isn't it?! That's fine! I don't care! Just get out of my face! I never want to see you again! You got that?!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!" I kicked my door open, and slammed it on his face. I leaned against the door, listening to his foot falls echo down the corridor, until I couldn't hear them anymore. I let the tears make their way down my face, dribbling off my chin and onto my new Nobody's Rain T-shirt. I didn't bother to stifle my sobs—I didn't care if the whole complex heard them. I just sat in the darkness of my apartment. After a few minutes, I pulled out my cell phone, and called the first person I could think of.

"Hello?"

"Olette, I need to come over…"