XX

Chapter 04

Denmark Cross

XX

The two weeks of practice was a whirlwind of action. They signed contracts, shook hands, had their photos taken, recorded their music, were shoved into small gigs to play in front of tiny audiences generally were bombarded with different publicity stunts. The first two weeks made Arthur seriously reconsider being a band member. It was not all glamour and games after all but gruelling work. He seriously did not think he could physically smile anymore without tearing a muscle.

"I quit!" Alfred panted for the fifteenth time that day. "I don't care if I get a boring desk job. Man, nothing can be worth all this pain and effort!"

"You quit and I'll cut your balls off," Arthur growled, although he would never admit that he was feeling the same way too.

"There's no rest for the weary I'm afraid," Ludwig clapped his hands together, ordering them to attention.

How he could stay so energetic was beyond them since he had been their personal chauffer and director throughout the hectic fortnight. However, he did not even look sleep deprived.

"I believe the saying went; no rest for the wicked," Matthew groaned.

"You're scheduled for a live concert on the Kate and Perry late night music show. Just smile and nod," Ludwig ignored him.

Suddenly, Alfred let out a loud, whine and slumped onto the chair in the dressing room. "But that show's not until eight o'clock right? We have time to, I dunno, sleep before then, right?" he looked at their manager imploringly.

Arthur knew that he was trying to do the puppy-dog trick. Those eyes could melt the heart of the devil himself if Alfred tried heard enough but Ludwig was more than a devil, and whether it would work or not was -

"Very well," Ludwig conceded with a weary sigh. Arthur almost had a heart attack. So the slave-driving manager had a heart after all!

Alfred punched the air, seemingly re-energised already and shared a high-five with his brother. He tried to do the same with Ivan, who met him with a cold smile.

Well, personally, Arthur was not going to complain about a well-deserved break. He was just as tired as the rest of them after being shipped from place to place. If anything, he too should be relishing a chance to rest.

Ivan claimed their tiny dressing room, Alfred and his brother went in the direction of the nearest coffee machine but as for Arthur he wandered around until he found a dark, quiet studio to sit in.

The large studio was set up for broadcasting. Several men and women were preparing the stage for a live broadcast. He shuffled near the wall and took a seat on one of the chair left on the side, overshadowed by all the other equipment. He was at a good distance from the actual centre of the studio to observe the goings on without being in the way. In fact, no one had yet spotted him enter the studio, or so he thought until he heard someone move about in the shadows.

"Oi, that's my spot," a man stepped forward, carrying a large violin case over his shoulder. "You look like you're not too long for this world."

"My manager…is a slave-driver," Arthur sighed, too tired to move for him.

The man looked at him appraisingly. "You're Arthur Kirkland, right? I've seen your face everywhere. On adverts I mean," he smiled.

"And you are?" Arthur removed his arms from over his eyes to glance up at the tall, grinning man standing over him with strangely spiky hair combed up.

"Denmark Cross. Or at least that's my stage name. You can call me Lars," the man took the seat next to him and held out his hand.

"The violinist?" Arthur shook hands with him.

"Rock violinist," he corrected.

Although Arthur had heard of him before, he had never known that the rock violinist was with the same label as well. He had not exactly been a frothing fan of his work, but he had liked it a great deal more than half the other crap and preppy pop drivel that was manufactured these days.

Lars leaned back against his chair, stretching out all the muscles in his back. "I feel for you man, I heard you got Ludwig for a manager."

"He's excellent but…"

"A bit of a workaholic, right?" Lars grinned as if he knew exactly what a slave-driver his manager could be. "Where are the rest of your bandmates?" he asked, looking around.

Arthur shrugged. Alfred was probably somewhere in the cafeteria working on his fourteenth cup of coffee, and Matthew had probably been dragged along with his brother. As for Ivan…God only knew where he was. Arthur found that he did not much care anyway…as long as they all turned up for the show at eight.

"What's going on here?" he nodded towards the platform and the camera crew adjusting the lightings for the black stage.

"They're doing an on-stage practice for Bad Friends before they record their next music video. They've got a new single coming out."

"If I wasn't so tired I'd throw up," Arthur turned his head away in disgust. The last thing he needed when he wanted to relax was their presence.

Apparently, he was not the only one who disapproved of the Bad Friends' scheduled arrival. Arthur had not even noticed that there was another person nearby, with exception of the stage crew, until he heard someone grumble by his right elbow.

"Hmph! What a joke!"

Arthur looked up and noted a young man with a camera slung around his neck. His brown hair was combed back neatly, but for a small curl which stuck out. Otherwise, he was immaculately dressed, although from his constant frown he looked like someone who was constantly angry at something.

He looked at Lars inquisitively, who simply shrugged as if to say he did not know who he was. Arthur decided that it was not important to inquire, especially since the man was paying no attention to them.

"Lovino! You came to cheer for me?" a too-bright, too-cheerful, and definitely too-familiar voice bounded towards them.

Arthur moved aside just in time to miss Antonio flinging himself at Lovino. As for Lovino, he shrieked in an unnaturally high-pitched voice and wrenched Antonio off of him, screaming; "As if! My brother and I are in the next studio. There's a fashion show being recorded there and we're helping out." His angry expression turned sly. "It's worth it though. Lots of hot women."

Arthur only had time to register the slightly disgruntled look on Antonio's face before the rest of the Bad Friends made their way to him.

"Lovi! Long time no see! Where's your bro?" Gilbert hailed him.

"Unlike certain people we're working," Lovino huffed.

"You don't look like you're working."

"We're having a little…siesta right now."

Arthur felt himself shrinking. He did not want to be here. He would hate them to think that he had come to see them practice – which was definitely a lie. Fortunately they were so preoccupied with Lovino that they did not notice Arthur sitting, partially hidden by the shadows of the equipment.

Unfortunately for Arthur, he luck was not good enough to hold out. Gilbert , whether by chance or because something happened to catch his eye, turned his head in his direction and spotted Arthur straight away.

"Oh-ho!" Gilbert's grin was like poison to him. "So you couldn't stay away from my awesomeness, could you?" he slid closer, invading Arthur's personal space. Arthur turned his face away with pinched look of disgust.

"Please, if I knew your lot were going to be here I would have found some other ditch to crawl into," he spat.

Gilbert grinned and backed up. "You sure know a lot about crawling, don'tcha? Why don't you - "

"Now, now, children, let's not pick on each other," Francis came between them, treating them like children who did not know how to play nice.

"Shut your face, frog!" Arthur snarled.

Francis gave him a steely look. All he had been trying to do was keep the peace but since Arthur had lashed out at him he was not above biting back. "Hmph, if only your musical talent was as accomplished as your ungratefulness, you might actually have a shot in this industry," he said, with a haughty smirk.

"If only your ridiculous amount of body hair could equal yours!" Arthur retorted.

"That is a cheap and unintelligent remark. Couldn't you think of anything wittier?"

"Shut it."

"As I thought."

Arthur glared at him

To think that they were going to go on tour together soon. It was almost laughable. Arthur did not think he would be able to stomach his food properly if he was anywhere within a hundred miles of this self-assured, arrogant French bastard!

They glared at each other for a long time. Perhaps the tension would have escalated into violence, but just then a crew member called out; "We're starting in five, you guys!" and suddenly the strain between them seemed to be forgotten.

However, as the Bad Friends returned to the stage, and Lovino went back to his work too, Arthur caught Francis glancing back at him with a thoughtful look. Their eyes met and Francis suddenly grinned.

"Maybe if you stick around you will learn a thing or two about music," he waved behind him.

Arthur swore under his breath and slumped back down against the chair. He really hated those guys, Francis most of all. Antonio irritated him, Gilbert was just as frustrating as Alfred when he was being difficult but Francis – he could not put his finger on it but every time they argued it just riled him up so much, more than anyone else.

"You…really don't like those guys, huh?" Lars said, reminding him that he was there and had heard their entire conversation. Arthur blushed to think that he had shown such a childish side of himself to a stranger.

"They are…good," he conceded with a blush. "I can't deny that they have some shred of talent in order to get this far but…" he pulled a face, "their personalities all suck, they rely too much on their looks, they're just in it for the fame and sex! I can't stand shallow guys like them!"

Lars pushed his head back and laughed loudly. It shocked Arthur at first. He was about as loud as Alfred, perhaps more. "Well, that's just how most rock artists come across in order to survive. Image is everything, you know."

"Whatever. I've had enough of this," Arthur sighed and stood up. If Francis came back to still find him sitting there he would never hear the end of it.

"Wanna hit the bar counter?" Lars stood too.

"I'm in the middle of a job."

"Yeah, I am too. So?"

Arthur grinned. The offer of alcohol always managed to cheer him up.

As they left, he glanced back once – it was a reflex action, he would swear. There was no meaning to it – and was surprised, astonished even, when he caught Francis' eye as the man turned around to look at him at the same time. However, Arthur quickly amended this by scowling at the Frenchman and huffing as he walked away with Lars.

He was sure Ludwig would not notice if he only had one or two beers.

"Francis, where are you eyes looking? Get a grip, man!" Francis heard Gilbert call him as they were preparing for the stage. He quickly turned his eyes away from the two people leaving and hurried over to the stage hands.

"Coming," he said, although his mind was still caught in that moment fifteen seconds ago when his gaze had crossed paths with Arthur's. He had caught Arthur's eyes in a moment of unguarded surprise, before he could ruin his look with an ugly scowl or a cold stare. He thought, if Arthur always looked like that, he could almost be considered sweet, but of course his vulgar personality was another matter entirely.

Actually, that truly unpleasant man was the type that Francis hated the most, and he would be grateful if they never had to cross paths.

Then again, with the tour coming up, and Arthur's band scheduled as the warm-up gig, that seemed very unlikely.

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