I was in English class one day when I got this idea. On the board was the homework for the 9th grade AP class and they had to read a certain chapter in a book entitled, "Sorry, wrong number" and that got my brain working. Just reading that title woke up one plot bunny, which started a chain reaction and the rest of them woke up and the rest is history. Yeah…you know how it goes.

This should be a two-shot, three-shot at the most.

Disclaimer: I'll call ya if this ever changes. Don't expect a call soon. Or ever.

Dedicated to Zexion! 'Nough said! She knows she's amazing!

:D Please enjoy!

Author: EbilChameleon (Rox)

Muse: The Double-Faced Muse (Zex)

Pairing: Zemyx (other various side pairings possible)

Purpose: Does any fanfic really have one but to entertain?

"You must know that in any moment a decision you make can change the course of your life forever: the very next person you stand behind in line or sit next to on an airplane, the very next phone call you make or receive, the very next movie you see or book you read or page you turn could be the one single thing that causes the floodgates to open, and all of the things that you've been waiting for to fall into place."
-Anthony Robbins

Saying that he was a devoted worker was a drastic underestimation.

His work was his life. There was no question about it. Some say that he would live in the office building if he could. He practically does already, getting there before everyone else and staying far later than necessary.

The question had been raised before; just why was he so devoted to working? Sure there were those who were dedicated to working, but not to this extent.

Working as the CEO of one of the largest computer software producers (Diz Computers) in Japan was something that many believe went to his head. Maybe it was the possibility of failure that drove him to work his ass off, or maybe it was simply something else. But many of the workers in the company had wondered about him, questioning his mysterious appearance, cunning ways of thinking and ensuring various jobs got done.

He was ruthless, a smooth talker and a manipulator. He did what he could to keep his own hands clean, but made sure that his task was done cleanly and to the best standard as possible. He liked using others, making his own job easier, at least to the normal bystander eye. But in reality, it was hard work getting people to do as you want them to, and it was difficult to trust people to do everything perfectly. He could be slightly intimidating which normally made those he recruited want to get the job right.

He wasn't exactly social, by any means. His own true social interactions, of course, revolved around work and talking to others as necessary. He didn't exactly have friends, per say. Not that he minded all too much. As long as he had his work, he was complete. As long as nothing bothered him, he was alright.

His phone was ringing now. It was such a common thing for him to hear, the robotic tune of Beethoven's ninth symphony not even startling him as it played from his phone, which sat on his desk. He set his pen down and didn't even bother to sigh. Nor did he bother to look at the caller ID. He'd always expected calls from the President or Vice President, from worried workers asking for assistance, or from people of other companies that he had to deal with.

He never expected to get a phone call for anything but business.

"Hello?" he answered, his voice professionally hiding the slight irritation of being bothered while working on his paper work. He never liked to be bothered when he was engrossed with something. As long as it was for something important, then he could let it slide with only mild annoyance.

"Oh hell, you don't sound like Axel."

Well now, wasn't that a nice greeting?

"No, I believe I don't sound like Axel, being that I am not whoever that person is."

"Damn," the person cursed.

Zexion had no patience for people who dialed the wrong number.

"Seems I entered Axel's cell phone number in wrong."

Nor did he have the patience for those with a mediocre sense of grammar.

"Apparently you did."

Whoever the dimwit on the other end was chuckled. "Sorry about that."

"Right," was all Zexion could mumble. He rolled his eyes, sighing with frustration.

"Alright, sorry again." And the line went dead.

Zexion looked at the expensive phone in his hand, lips pursed.

He hated pointless inconveniences.

It wasn't that he didn't have anything else to live for (alright, so there wasn't much. Fine, he really didn't have anything) it was just that he found all other things unsatisfying. The thing was, he took pride in his work. He took pride in looking at a finished task and thinking, 'one more accomplishment done.' He'd been that way since middle school, always feeling elated or prideful when a project was finished, a homework was handed in, or he finished his class work with extra time to spare.

Zexion was someone who loved being accomplished. He felt whole when something was done. And until whatever it was was finished, then he would work over time until it was completed. That's just how he worked, how he grew up.

Outside of work, he was just another face on the streets, dressed up in his sleek black business suit, black tie strait, not a wrinkle to be seen. His hair may look a bit messy, sheeting the right side of his face, but that was just his personal preference. Some may think that the untidiness of his hair may make him appear just a bit unprofessional, but he knew his position in the company and obviously his 'unprofessional' hair hadn't prevented him from obtaining that seat. He was the one sitting in the nice big office on the thirtieth floor; he didn't care what people thought of his appearance.

Besides that, he did appear to be a cold person. His dark blue eyes were normally narrowed with a determined or calculating look, but regardless of the expression in his eyes he usually had a calm, cool and collected look. He was never one to crack under pressure and was generally the one to tell everyone to calm down.

It was an uncommon site to see Zexion in anything other than a suit, or at least something business like. Casual clothes were just out of the question, even when he was walking outside the city on his free time.

His apartment was larger than the common apartment, but smaller than your average penthouse. He wasn't into extravagant housing and liked something chic yet simple. He didn't own many things, unlike what you'd expect from someone who was well set off and could afford just about anything.

Sitting back in his home, Zexion fell into his black Aniline leather sofa, his head falling back against it and his eyes gradually shutting. Today had been a long day full of idiotic screw ups and messed up plans. Days like this were just the worst and made Zexion want to allow the cool façade to be let down for just a moment so he could explode on people. But he would never allow that to happen and he had successfully made it through the day, no matter how painful.

They were working on a new major project. A new software was in development and was close to being completed. This meant that the media had been notified and a release date was being made. This also meant that Zexion had the job of overseeing everyone and making sure that all jobs were being finished on time and being done correctly. Screw ups had to be fixed and sometimes he felt like he had to hold some of the worker's hands just to get them through the simplest things. He understood that being worked on a tight schedule could be grueling and slightly nerve wrecking, but he found that that was the best motivation. Not all people agreed with him on that obviously.

It was almost eleven thirty at the moment and Zexion was officially exhausted. His legs were so tired from walking all day, going from work station to work station, floor to floor, hall to hall, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to make it to his bedroom.

Just as his felt the oncoming of sleep invade his mind, the jarring sound of Beethoven sounded and startled him, actually causing him to jump a bit. Now who the hell could be calling him this late at night?

He pressed the small green phone button and growled into the phone, "Yes?" It was too late to sound professional, so if he'd just insulted an important person, then they would have to get over it and he would apologize when his brain wasn't feeling like mush.

"Whoa, someone sounds cranky."

That voice was familiar. Wasn't it the same person who called him a few days ago and interrupted his work?

"Shit." This person liked to curse as well. "I didn't wake you did I?"

Yes, as a matter of fact you did. Zexion spoke, "No." No patience what so ever.

"Oh good. Well, damn I forgot to change the number. I still have your number programmed into my phone. Sorry, I have a horrible memory."

Your brain can't be capable of many things by the sounds of it. That comment was on the tip of Zexion's tongue, ready to lash out. But, of course, he kept those words from spilling out and instead said, "I can see that."

"Look, I'm really sorry for disrupting you again. I know all I can do is apologize, and I hope I'm forgiven."

No, Zexion thought. "Yes, you are."

The other guy let out a sigh of relief. "Thank god. Sorry again. I'll get this right someday. Have a good night."

With a disgruntled scowl, Zexion ground out, "You too."

He didn't actually mean it, of course.

If you mentioned the word 'romance' to Zexion, he was most likely to turn around and walk the opposite direction from you. That word held no meaning to him. Romance wasn't his thing.

He'd always been too busy to ever feel lonely.

Zexion had risen early (not surprising) and he had some time to spare this morning. He decided that he'd go out for breakfast somewhere instead of eating at home.

He'd never admit it to anyone, but he liked going out to eat. Freshly prepared food at a small café or such was something he enjoyed. It just reminded him of when he was younger, going out with his parents to a local diner and such, having a homey breakfast or lunch and feeling at ease. It was like a breath of fresh air to him and a place where he could really relax.

He wasn't sure at what point in his life that all the couples in the world around him starting to become more and more noticeable.

He'd never taken romantic interest in others before. He just never spared the time to try and get to know someone and find out if he had any attraction towards them or not. Nope, it'd always been work, work, work. Another thing he wouldn't ever admit was that very rarely, he almost regretted not getting to know someone. Very rarely would he get a small hint of yearning within him, just wishing that there was someone.

But those feelings were always brushed aside. He found it to be something trivial and unnecessary. Maybe someday he could worry about something like that. But not now.

The muffled ring of his phone in his pocket sang and he withheld the sigh that awaited to be released from his lips. Now who could it be?

"Hello?"

"Aw, hell!"

He'd have to start checking his caller ID more often now.

It'd been two days since this guy had last called him. Lucky for whoever this person was, he was in a mildly good mood this morning. "I can't tell whether you are good friends with this Axel guy since you seem to like to call him, or whether you aren't very good friends on account that you clearly can't remember his actual cell phone number."

Laughing, the guys said, "That's the most I've heard out of you since I first called you. I was starting to take you to be anti-social."

Zexion rolled his eyes. Typical. "Most people do."

"I need to write myself a note to chance the number, seriously."

That would always be useful, Zexion thought. He picked his coffee up with his free hand, watching as a new group of people emerged from the stairs leading down to the subway.

"Why don't you do it after getting off the phone with me?" Zexion inquired curiously. It was only common sense that that would be the smart thing to do. Or did this guy's memory fail so badly that he would forget after getting off the phone with him?

"I normally don't think about it or forget."

Score for Zexion. Even over the phone he was good at reading people. And he didn't even know this guy. Hell, he hadn't even met him.

"Hey, what's your name anyways? Sorry, but now that I've called you three times, I'm curious as to who I'm calling."

Was this some kind of joke? "I don't normally hand out personal information to someone I've never met before," Zexion replied tonelessly. He turned the cup around, spinning it along the table. He looked down at the Rolex watch on his wrist and noticed that it was time that he get moving towards work.

"Oh, I get it," the guy answered as Zexion stood up, having already paid for his food. He left a tip on the table and left his now drained coffee mug. "Stranger danger, right?"

What a immature thing to say.

"Something like that," he said. Alright, so how old was this guy? That was his new question on mind.

Zexion walked out of the café and onto the sidewalk, easily blending in with the rest of the morning Tokyo crowd. Despite the early time, there were a lot of people on the streets already. Diz Computers was only a few blocks away from the café he was just at, and he could see the sky scraper in the distance.

"I don't mind telling you my name," came from the phone. Zexion couldn't understand why he was still talking to this guy. "It's Demyx. See, we're already on our way to becoming friends."

Hah. Friends. What a joke. Not in this dog eat dog world.

"Still don't want to tell me your name?"

Zexion didn't even bother to answer him. He just waited with the other people at the crosswalk, waiting for the green symbol to tell them that they could cross the street to come up.

"I take that as a no."

"You are correct," Zexion finally answered. The light changed and he started forward. "I'm almost at work. Can I ask that you change the number so that you won't get this messed up again?" He didn't have time to be bothered by someone who couldn't do something as simple as get a phone number right.

"Yeah, sure. Sorry about all this, really."

"Bye, Demyx."

"Bye, Stranger."

Zexion could only assume that Demyx had finally changed the numbed in his cell phone. It'd been two weeks and he hadn't heard anything from the guy.

Everything was the same. Work, eat, sleep, work. Nothing out of the usual. The same old routine that seemed as though it would never change. It was nice, Zexion thought. He wasn't very keen on things like change and he found it hard to adjust when a major change took place.

Everything was going smoothly. The new project was moving along at a good pace and they were sure to meet their deadline. They'd definitely have the software done a good amount of time before the release date, that was for sure.

Everything seemed to be looking up. Another success would be added to his list.

One week later, Zexion got a phone call.

"Yes?"

"…"

No one spoke on the other line. He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it. That number seemed slightly familiar. He hadn't seen it often, only by chance of a few glances.

"Hello?" he tried again.

"No! Man, this is sad. I just found my phone and was going to call Axel to tell him the good news and I forgot about the not changing the number thing, and I'm really sorry about this. I know you don't want me calling you anymore, and trust me when I say it's not intentional."

Zexion sighed as he leaned forward on his office desk, a palm supporting his head, deft fingers lacing in slate colored hair. He had no idea what to say, and it was obvious that the guy(what was his name again?) was freaking out over this. "Look, it's alright…" he trailed off as he fought for a name.

"Demyx."

"Demyx, right."

"Yeah." Demyx sounded sorry. "I lost my phone not long after my last time talking to you and never had the chance to reprogram the number. I just found it. It was in my couch. Seriously, I think my couch is alive. It's eaten so many cell phones. Marly's, one of my cousin's, my own now, and my mom's twice. The thing has a mind of its own."

Zexion really didn't have the time to listen to all of this. He had a report to fill out so he could hand it to the President within the next hour or else he'd have to skip his lunch break. And his stomach was grumbling now.

"That's nice. Now, if you'll excuse me-"

"Hey." Another pet peeve Zexion had was being interrupted. "D'you live in Tokyo? I mean, you have a Tokyo area code. If you do, maybe we could meet up sometime. We've talked a few times, and I'm curious about you."

Why was Demyx curious about him? Demyx was the one who called him, so shouldn't he be the curious one. He wasn't terribly curious (maybe very mildly) and he didn't exactly have the urge to go out and meet someone who he had talked to for a combined total of approximately six minutes.

"Sorry, but I'm a busy man. You understand."

"Oh. Well, I'm sure you have my number. If you ever have any free time it'd be nice to meet up with you. You sound like a nice person." Demyx sounded deflated by the refusal.

Zexion wanted to snort when Demyx said he sounded like a nice person. That wasn't an everyday comment he received. That wasn't a comment he received period. He knew how he appeared to people. Unapproachable and cold.

"Sure," Zexion agreed easily. What the heck, he could give the guy some kind of hope, right?

He just wouldn't call him.

Zexion didn't like riding the train. But sometimes it was necessary. He had a car, but it was only used when he had to travel long distances. When traveling to a nearby city, he found that it was quicker to take the train instead of dealing with annoying traffic and mental drivers.

It was always the same. He'd keep to himself, sitting away from others, sitting up perfectly straight in his seat with his briefcase secure in his lap and his eyes closed. No one would bother him. The only thing he had to do was pay attention to which stop was his.

It was night currently, and he was on his way back to Tokyo after attending a meeting in Kyoto. He was tired, he was slightly agitated, and he just wanted to get to his apartment and sleep.

He was about three stops away from his own and the train was slowing down at the moment. He yawned widely and opened his dark eyes. He didn't noticed if anyone got on the train or off and instead looked at his watch. It was nearly ten. Ugh, today had been a long day. He would have opted for staying in a hotel for the night, but hotels weren't his thing and he had wanted to be back home so he was closer to work, allowing him to get there early in the morning like usual. That way his everyday routine wouldn't bee too out of whack.

Zexion was brought out of his muse when someone sat directly to his left. A whole row of seats was open on this forsaken train and this…person...had to chose the seat right next to him? That was annoying.

Zexion discretely snuck a glance sidewaya. It was a guy. He had dirty blonde hair, spiked up like a mohawk with a few stray strands falling in his face. His eyes were closed and a contented smile adorned his face. Ear buds were placed in his ears, the music he was playing loud enough that Zexion could hear it almost perfectly. It sounded like something complete with blaring drums and ringing guitars.

Frowning, Zexion closed his eyes and waited. It took a little over ten minutes before his stop arrived and he stood up quickly, eager to get away from the music lover.

Zexion liked music, but he wasn't sure if he could handle being around someone like that guy all day.

On the side of working nearly nonstop, Zexion did very occasionally allow himself a break. Normally it was after a large project was completed and things in the company settled down.

One thing he did like to do was go to an all night café. It was one of those cafés where they have people perform whatever they want at night. He liked the dim lights and the relaxing atmosphere, the comfortable furniture and the people who went there. They were quiet and mature, much better than noisy teenagers. He liked the smooth jazz music that played from the speakers that surrounded the room when people weren't performing. And he loved the french vanilla cappuccinos that he could get.

The tables in this café were low to the ground and you were to sit on very large and plush cushions. Shoes were to be taken off and overall it was just a very tranquil place. The walls were painted a rich, deep red and the lights were turned down, more focused on the stage in the back where everyone was facing.

Zexion brought his white mug to his lips, the hot, velvety liquid running down his throat, leaving a delectable taste on his tongue. It was a nice change to the stale coffee he was used to drinking each morning in hope for an energy boost. He was glad that the software the company had been working on was complete and that he could finally have a moments rest.

A tall, tan man with a beret covering shoulder length deep brown hair and a matching goatee stepped onto the stage to introduce the next performer. Zexion had been distracted by the waitress coming by to ask him if he wanted another cappuccino and wasn't able to catch the next performer's name. Just as the waitress took his cup to fetch him a refill, a loud whistle and a few catcalls were heard, sounding terribly out of place in the café.

With narrowed eyes Zexion glanced over at the table on the other side of the room, seeing one guy stand up while the others cheered him on. The cheerleaders were a redhead who appeared to be tall and lankly, his thumb and index finger in his mouth as he let out another loud whistle. A smaller guy, whose blonde hair was gelled and spiked in a fohawk like fashion, was sitting between the redhead's legs and he had turned, smacking the other's arm, cerulean eyes narrowed. The redhead in turn smirked and nuzzled the blonde's cheek.

The other cheerleader was an eccentric looking man who, to Zexion's shock, had mussed pink hair. That was an unusual color. He tugged at a piece of his own bangs and inspected the color. It wasn't your everyday color, but it was seemingly normal. Was natural pink hair possible?

Finally Zexion noticed someone walking up to the stage, a guitar hanging from his right hand.

It was a complete shock to his nervous system when Zexion got a good look at the person. Mohawk hair, strands hanging in his face, familiar smile, ear buds hanging around his neck. Well if it wasn't the person who had sat next to him on the train last week. Was it a small world they were living in or what? Zexion wasn't sure if the guy had even seen what he looked like on the train and was unsure if he would recognize him if the blonde looked at him.

The waitress returned with Zexion's drink. He took the very warm mug in his hands and grew fond of the way it warmed his slightly chilly hands. He held it for a few seconds, eyes watching the slightly familiar performer. He brought the mug to his lips as the blonde walked up to the microphone and spoke, "Hey everyone. I've only performed here once before-"

Zexion choked then and the motion from his sudden reaction caused the hot liquid to spill over and drip down his hands and into his lap. He hissed and set his cup down hurriedly, taking hold of his napkin.

That voice! It was only very slightly different, but he knew that voice! He'd only heard it over the phone a few times, but he had a good memory. There was just no way! This truly was a small world they lived in. But that…that person up on stage…the one who began to strum the guitar delicately, playing a very peaceful sounding tune was…him!

Zexion watched, hardly taking in the music or words he was singing. Instead he just listened to the tone of his voice, sounding so familiar yet strange at the same time. It was so different hearing it in person than over the phone where it was changed somewhat. He just watched and couldn't help but noticed how relaxed he looked, how content and at ease he appeared.

Minutes later the song ended and the blonde spoke into the microphone as the applause died down. "I'll be back next Saturday," he announced, then winked and walked off the stage. Zexion's eyes followed him as he went back to his friends, being greeted with loud cheers and large gestures.

Zexion slowly began to stand up, his eyes never faltering as he watched the group of people. He could walk over there right now, introduce himself and finally be able to meet the mysterious phone caller. He could finally put all the minor curiosity out of his mind. He could possibly make the blonde happy with their first greeting. He could, it would be so easy.

Zexion reached into the pocket of his dress pants and extracted a large bill, leaving it on the table. With one final glance he began to walk, his legs carrying him to the door. He pushed it open and allowed any form of regret to drift away into the chilly October air.

He never glanced back and vaguely, as he walked home, wondered if the music loving Demyx remembered to change his phone number.

Part one is done! Please, I hope you are enjoying this. It's fun to write. Tell me if there is anything off or something that I should fix. I'll get part two up as soon as I can.

Reviews are welcome like freshly baked cookies and cake! :D