Wow I'm so sorry it's been so long since my last update. You can thank school being a bitch for that. I'll try to update every two weeks, but don't hold me to that because this semester is killer and I barely have time to live let alone write fanfiction. On that note though, thank you all so much for the great response to this! Gosh it makes me so happy ^_^ I also am changing the rating of this because I've dropped way more than one f-bomb and for potential future sexy times. Anywho, enjoy loves :)

The lights in Lovino's lonely house were too bright for his eyes to handle as he stumbled over the threshold after flicking on the light switch near the door. His head was still spinning slightly from the countless shots he'd taken at the club and he knew that a devilish hangover the next morning was inevitable. A stack of books toppled to floor as the author bumped into them, unsteadily making his way to plop down on the old, worn down couch in the rarely used television room.

The couch reminded him of earlier times and happier memories as he buried his head into one of the cushions. He inhaled the familiar musty smell and, for a moment, the world was all right. Gone were the feelings of mistrust and hatred for his own species. Gone was the arrogant façade he portrayed in order to protect his heart from the monstrosities of society. In their place, was a broken twenty-two year old who, if he imagined hard enough, could still feel those protective arms encasing his trembling frame as soothing words were whispered into his ear.

As soon as the peaceful feeling came, though, it left even quicker and Lovino was left in his small but cavernous bungalow with no one to wrap his or her arms around him or to tell him that everything will be all right. He had confined himself to a solitary life and was paying the price as every silent second ticked by and broke his heart even further. The ornate wall clock glared down at him in the fetal position he now laid, jeering at his pathetic self.

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. The whirrs and clicks of the device reverberated throughout the empty room, echoing off every wall and creating a maddening sound. Lovino flung up his frail hands to cover his ear in an attempt to drown out the painful noise but to no avail. The clicks vibrated into his very being, jarring his soul and clanking through his scattered brain. Not even in his solitude could he be truly alone. Finally, the clock became too much to handle and he swiftly rose from the couch, tore the devilish mechanism from it's place on the elaborately papered wall, and flung it across the room.

It hit with a resounding crash and the curling spirals of glass shattered on impact. Gears sprung free from the inside making it appear as though it were a gutted animal. Ticks and tocks were still being emitted from the eviscerated clock; however, they became less frequent and more demented as time quickly passed.

Lovino paused to collect his thoughts and take in the destruction he had wrought upon his home. First, he had the outburst that wrecked his painstakingly organized study and now his troubled mind had created the mess of a clock that was still petering out feeble sounds. Everything about his life screamed despair and desolation but there was nothing the reclusive author could do about it. He had chosen this life and now he was suffering the fallout of it. Not even Feliciano could save him from the ruin he'd become.

Perhaps, it was better, though, that he'd decided on a lonely life, Lovino mused as he fell back onto the couch with a defeated sigh. There was no one around that he could harm with his hateful ways. No one there to witness the insanity of seclusion invade his once steady mind. After all, humans were judging creatures and one look at the damaged author would be enough to create enough headlines to power the newspapers for weeks.

No, it was undoubtedly better to hide himself away from the vindictive beasts of this world.

The sharp trills of the telephone in the kitchen shattered Lovino's despairing thoughts and he hefted himself up from the seat. The rings continued to blare as he lumbered into the other room and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" he breathlessly answered, a few dark strands flopping into his eyes. He swatted them away as the harsh voice on the other end bellowed out words of rage.

"Vargas? What the hell have you been doing? I haven't heard from you in months. You could dead for all I know and a dead author does not bring in the money I need." Lovino winced as the loud torrent of anger left the other person's mouth and stung his ear. He knew exactly who the voice belonged to and had been dreading this call for a long time. It was none other than his publisher Mr. Arthur Kirkland. He could almost picture the steam erupting from the man's reddening ears as his anger towards the author escalated. No doubt, he was sitting behind his stylish glass desk, feet propped up on the bottom drawer, and rubbing a hand over his unusually large eyebrows in frustration.

"Hi Arthur," Lovino sheepishly greeted, scrunching up his tired eyes and leaning back onto the kitchen counter.

" 'Hi Arthur'?" his boss fumed, though his tone had lost much of its original ferocity "I haven't heard from you in months and all you can say is 'Hi Arthur'? Lovino, you have some major explaining to do or this agency is dropping you faster than a hot stone. Start talking."

"I've been writing, I promise," the author retorted and it technically wasn't a lie, "There have been some… things in my life that required more attention. They're gone now though and I can devote all my time to finishing a first draft."

"You mean to tell me that you have had three months to… wait a minute, are you drunk?" Lovino quickly smacked a hand over his mouth as if Arthur could actually smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Uh…no?"

"Don't lie to me!" Arthur yelled, "You're drunk. You haven't been in contact with your agency in months and you're drunk. I absolutely cannot believe this, Lovino. I just can't understand what is going on with you right now. When is the last time you've eaten a proper meal?"

"Erm-"

"Good God, you're a mess," Arthur condescendingly seethed.

"I know," was Lovino's quiet answer. A heavy sigh escaped the lips of his now-livid publisher and he could hear him switching positions in his overstuffed office chair.

"Despite your apparent lack of care for yourself, how is everything with the story? How much do you have finished?" Arthur probed in a weary tone. At his question, Lovino's heart sank. He knew this question was coming and had been terrified to provide the answer. On one hand, he could lie about his progress but then again, Arthur always seemed to know when he was lying. It was one of his horrible gifts. The author decided that while the truth might cause the third World War, it was the safer option.

"One," he admitted, drumming his fingers on the granite in anticipation.

"One what?" the publisher demanded with exasperation, "One chapter? Section? Part?"

"One page."

"One page?!" Arthur roared, the sound of his fist slamming down on the desk reverberating into the phone, "What the hell have you been doing with your time, Vargas? This is not acceptable and if you weren't a best selling author I would drop your arse from this agency right here and now. But seeing as you are, I'm going to be kind. You have one week to finish the first draft and have a copy in my hands by Friday morning at eight o'clock sharp."

"A week?" Lovino yelped, his golden eyes widening in disbelief, "Sir, I don't see how I can possibly write a full length novel in only seven days."

"I don't want any excuses," Arthur quipped, cutting the author short, "Maybe you should have thought about that when you were slacking off on your work. Friday morning, eight o'clock, rough draft finished, or the agency is dropping you. Do I make myself clear?" Espresso coloured tendrils of hair dejectedly fell into his face as the author glumly nodded, resigned to his fate.

"Yes sir, crystal clear."

"Perfect. Oh and Vargas?"

"Yes sir?"

"Please, for your sake, try to get your life back on track," Arthur instructed with as much compassion as the businessman could muster.

"Will do, Mr. Kirkland," Lovino grinned as he heard the hurried grumble and click that meant his boss had disconnected.

Despite Arthur's strict personality and cutthroat policies, he truly was a kind man deep down. Of all the bigwig publishers in the world, Lovino knew he had been quite lucky with the one who decided to take him on. They knew he was a reclusive introvert who couldn't get along with most people, yet they had seen potential in him and given him a chance. The least he could do to thank them for that opportunity was to buckle down and write the story he'd been avoiding for so long.

However, Hungary and Austria could wait until morning. Although the genius plan to go clubbing hadn't exactly gone as planned, tonight was still about putting his past and Antonio out of his mind. And besides, how else would the story get written if he didn't take the evening to relax and recuperate? He had practically earned time off after what his poor heart had gone through in the past week and the worn in couch looked so comfortable.

With purposeful strides, Lovino made his way back into the television room, grabbed the remote, and switched on the ancient television set. He knew that wasting one more night was not a good idea considering he had only a week to churn out sixty thousand words, but wasn't his mental state more important right now? Arthur had even said that he wanted Lovino to get his life back on track. Taking one more night to do whatever he pleased would only help in forgetting all about this train wreck he'd inadvertently caused.

The squishy cushions were sagging in protest despite Lovino's extremely thin frame as he stretched out his feet and laid his head on one of the armrests. A soft hum filled the room as the television blinked to life, displaying a slightly static picture on the screen.

"Damn T.V.," the author muttered, glancing down at the remote to turn up the volume, "Never has worked right."

" -been waiting all night for them and here they are! Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the boyband that is taking the world by a storm: The Bad Touch Trio!"

Lovino's breath hitched in his throat as what the announcer had spoken. A deep frown settled onto his face, creasing the normally flawless skin. He dared to look up at the screen, not wanting to believe what he'd just heard.

"No, there's no way," he furiously whispered as the three gorgeous men took to the Saturday Night Live stage, "I only turned on the fucking T.V.! How is it even possible that I would've stumbled across him?"

But his own eyes told him that it was indeed possible and very real. There on the screen looking him right in the eye through the glass and pixels was none other than Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. Lovino had to admit, he looked stunning. His silky brown hair radiantly glowed and when the cameraman zoomed in, the light reflected off of his green eyes making them appear as precious emerald jewels. The outfits chosen for the trio were loud and obnoxiously neon but for some reason they only accented Antonio's sheer beauty.

As The Bad Touch Trio launched into one of their pop ballads, the author's golden eyes glazed over and he became lost in thought. For whatever reason, Antonio kept popping into his life. Every time he'd tried to forget him, the universe found a way for Antonio to worm himself back into his lonely life.

Lovino rubbed the bridge of his nose and trained his sights back on the television. By now, he had given up trying to forget about the singer. Antonio's constant magazine articles coupled with his ultra-successful band made it next to impossible to go a day without seeing something related to him. In fact, though, it was easier to finally admit to himself that he couldn't just forget. By doing this, Lovino was in fact moving on and letting go of whom he'd once thought was his soul mate. Anyways, he wouldn't be talking to Antonio ever again even if he did happen to see him. Their fall out at the coffee shop was just the clean break he needed.

"Thank you so much ladies and gentlemen for letting us perform here tonight!" Antonio's smooth voice recaptured Lovino's attention, drawing his mind toward his effervescent tones. "This next song is a bit slower than our normal ones but its one of our favourites because it has so much meaning behind it. Again, we are The Bad Touch Trio and this is Invisible Man.

How can I love when you're breaking my heart?

You can't expect me to not be torn apart

I know you said this is temporary

But every day I grow more wary

The lyrics of the song floated into the author's tingling ears, flooding his every emotion. Each low note rumbled through his bones and the high notes sent his heart soaring. Antonio had taken the lead vocals as he did on almost every Bad Touch Trio song. It was no wonder as to why their management chose him to be the spokesperson. Not only was he entrancingly beautiful and his voice could sing circles around anyone in the industry, but his presence also radiated the authenticity of a leader.

I'll never give up, I'll never back down

I'll try to pretend that I'm fine

But it rips me to shred when you're not around

I wish I could say that you're mine

Tremors ran down Lovino's spine, utterly transfixed on the stunning sight on the screen. His heart skipped a beat with every rasp and break of Antonio's sweeping tenor. Crinkles appeared around the corner of her half-lidded eyes as the emotion flowed from his rosy lips in the form of dancing melody. In that moment, the rest of the world blurred into nothing and it was as though the man in the television was singing directly to him. The brunette curls that encapsulated the singer's flawless face served as a soft blanket of comfort and the haunting song was a cup of tea warming his insides. Antonio's singing broke off with an intake of air and his two other band mates joined in for the chorus.

Invisible man, where have you been?

I've waited up every night

Invisible man, where did you go

When you ran out of my life

Heart is broken, left unspoken

Words I've wrote are just a token

Hands are shaking, voices quaking

How can you not see me waiting?

Perhaps I am invisible

To you

The song continued on until it swelled to a stop. The Bad Touch Trio thanked their audience for watching the show and supporting them through everything. After a few funny comments about life in general, the men exited the stage no doubt to be whisked away to a wild after party. By the time a few minutes had passed, everyone had forgotten about their performance. Everyone except Lovino.

The author remained in the same spot he'd previously been in, one hand twirling mindlessly through his coffee coloured locks. On the outside, it looked as if he'd had a peaceful evening of relaxation but on the inside his mind was raging torrent of thoughts. Identical to the previous week, they were centered on Antonio.

He had never heard such sincerity come out of a mouth in such a way that it rivaled his own beliefs. Yes, he had fallen head over heels for the singer but it had only been at the level of physical attraction. Not once had he attributed the potential of genuine feeling to a member of a pop trio. It was darkly ironic seeing as the lack of meaningfulness was the reason he'd become so angry with him in the first place. However, he'd proven to him that he had a heart and could display it in front of the entire world, which is more than could be said about the secluded author.

That was okay, though, Lovino realized as he rolled off the couch and lumbered into the kitchen to heat up a much-needed cup of peppermint tea. It was perfect in fact. Antonio's newly discovered sincerity didn't send him spinning into a whirlwind of schoolboy emotions like their first encounter at the television studios. This time, it restored his faith in people so much that it gave him the extra motivation needed to kick start his life from the shambles it currently was.

Don't get him wrong; the singer was still the most gorgeous man he'd ever laid eyes on. The way his dark eyelashes rested against the warm tan of his cheeks made butterflies erupt in his stomach, but he wasn't going to go off the deep end with obsession. No, this time Antonio was a symbol that not every book can be judged by its cover. For an author, this was a pretty important lesson and one that he should have learned long ago.

The main chunk of Lovino's week had been focused solely on another human being. Because of this, he had been let down so much that it invaded his psych and ruined his outlook on life. Yet, tonight, after one of the worst outings of his life, he just happened to turn on the T.V. to a performance of The Bad Touch Trio's most soulful song. It was either a sign from the universe or sheer luck. He liked to think it was the former. Whatever it was, though, it had reminded him that while some people can redeem themselves, not everyone is as trustworthy as Antonio. He now saw that letting his guard down in for the possibility of a love had been the biggest mistake of his life and one that he would never make again.

A satisfied grin graced played across the author's's lips. He lifted the mug of tea from the microwave and cradled in in his hands, grateful to feel the warmth against bare skin. He sleepily ambled up the stairs before collapsing onto his bed and opening the lid of the laptop that was on his cluttered nightstand. While taking a sip of the savoury mint drink, his fingers keyed in two words: Chapter Two.

Those words were enough to ignite the fire that he had been missing for so long. The inspiration that burned within made him feel more powerful than he ever had before. All of his walls were back in place and fortified stronger. This time he would not let people play with his trust. This time he was his own master. Lovino Vargas was officially back in business.

I'm sorry if there's any mistakes. I was rushing to get this out. This is the last chapter I had mostly prewritten so the next might take a while longer to get out. But yea, review, follow, favorite if you like it! Thanks for reading you awesome people :D