#I feel like I'm drowning from withing all the time

[jacksintention]

From time to time I think on the fact Jack kissed Alice's hand in veneration because it was the body Lacie left behind, but wouldn't dare nor want to touch Lacie herself for the same reason he kissed that hand, and it makes me want to set myself on fire

[givemea-dam-break]

Hey hope your having a lovely day or night I was wondering if you would write something for Lucy as I haven't seen alot for her as the other boys.

Maybe when Lucy first arrives instead of the article room being just hers she as to share it with the reader who's been friends with the boys for a while and Lucy is shocked that the reader works withe the boys or something and their is that immediate spark between them.

Anyway even if it's just a Lucy idea you have had that would be amazing as well and if u don't mind tagging me that would be amazing <33

a/n: i would be more than happy to write this! i adore lucy and she holds a special place in my heart (partly because my dad is northern English too and i love their accents) so i hope you enjoy! I'm sorry this has taken so long to come out, i just kept getting stuck in places about what to write haha

warnings: mild language female reader (few pronouns used)

"I'm sorry about the boys. Their test was genuine, but they're like schoolboys and like poking fun."

"It's fine," Lucy Carlyle, Lockwood and Co's new hire, says, but her tone indicates that she's still a little pissed off about it. You can't blame her, you'd been pissed when they did it, too. "How can you work with them? Are they always like that?"

You shrug, fluffing the freshly changed pillows on Lucy's bed. "I've known George since we were kids - don't mistake that for friends, we only knew of each other - and Lockwood... well, he's Lockwood, and you just learn to expect the wildest things from him. I've kind of just learned to either drown out the stupid things they're saying, or I have to be the one to knock some sense into them, especially Lockwood. You'll get used to them."

Lucy places her bags down, brushing her hands over her coat in a nervous gesture. "How long have you been working with them?"

"Only as long as it's been registered, so three months," you say. "George found me just after Lockwood started the company, something about needing someone with good Touch, so you're the perfect fit for the last Talent. And, god, it'll be good to finally have another girl in the house." You walk over to the wardrobe, flinging the doors open. "Okay, so this half of the wardrobe is mine, and this half is yours. I did ask Lockwood if we'd be able to get another, but he's stingy. Luckily for you, most of my clothes stay folded on the floor by my bed, so feel free to use as many hangers as you want -"

"What's in that room downstairs?" Lucy asks, looking over at the bedroom door. "The one on the landing?"

You hesitate. "I don't know. Neither does George. We just know that it's off-limits, and Lockwood gets antsy when the topic even gets brought up. If I were you, I'd steer clear of that conversation for now."

"Right." Lucy sits on her bed, expression tired and confused. "Sorry, this is all just a lot to take in..."

"That's alright. Want me to give you some space for a while? I've got to make a start on dinner soon, anyways. It's my day to cook."

Lucy looks up at you, and something in her eyes pins you to the spot. They're a light brown, glimmering golden in the lamplight of the room, and her hair curls loosely around her face, barely sweeping her shoulders. But those eyes...

"Could you stay?" she asks softly. "Maybe, um, maybe we could get to know each other?"

Grinning, you sit on the bed beside her, giving her enough space to make sure she's comfortable. "Well, it would be a good start if we're going to be sharing a room for the foreseeable future. What do you want to know?"

She eases up a little, relaxing. "Did you say your Talent was Touch? Lockwood never mentioned in the interview."

"Yeah," you say. "I know your Touch helps you hear things, but it helps me see, I suppose you could say. Takes me back to the time of death, or whatever it's linked to. My Listening is alright, and my Sight is a little better."

"I've never really heard of that before. That sounds... cool."

You shrug. "I suppose, unless I'm watching someone being murdered, or something. Usually, it isn't too bad. Lately, my Sight has been needed more than anything."

"Have you got any cases coming up?" Lucy's voice sounds a little more confident now. "With the tests, you guys are well aware that I'm good enough to work here, but I've never seen you guys in action, or heard about it."

"We do, actually," you say. "Tomorrow. Some old lady's husband died not long ago, took a tumble down the stairs, and now is possibly haunting her house. We're going to go and check it out, hopefully find the source and get out unharmed. I'm sure Lockwood will let you tag along. It seems like a simple enough job."

--

Funny. It is not a simple job.

It goes terribly wrong from the get-go, actually.

First problem: George is late, and nothing you can say to Lockwood convinces him to hold off a little bit to give George time to get there. So, essentially, you're going in blind.

Second problem: judging from the fact that Mrs Hope, the owner of the house, says that she's the only one with a key to the house, the human-like shape you saw moving inside is most certainly a ghost. At not even six o'clock, no ghost should really be active.

Third problem: well, to put it simply, Mr Hope is not the ghost haunting the house. No, that would be too easy, right?

Standing on the landing of the second floor, rapier drawn, you stare up at the ghost of a young woman. Faintly, you can hear her voice shouting out to you, but Listening isn't your strength. She's a creepy one, you'll give her that, just hovering in the air a few feet away, dress and hair blowing as if she's caught in a breeze.

"Luce," you say. "What's she saying?"

Lucy watches the ghost cautiously. "Let me go. But... Something feels different. It's like I can feel what she feels."

"She's a ghost," Lockwood says. "She can't feel anything."

"This is different. This -"

With a horrible screech, the ghost launches herself at Lucy, who stumbles backwards into the stair bannister. In unison, you and Lockwood slash through the Visitor with your rapiers, holding her back as a loud crack! sounds behind you.

"(name)!" Lucy cries. "Help!"

Glancing behind you, your heart almost stops. Lucy has broken through the bannister, and the only reason she hasn't fallen and broken all of her bones is that her boot is stuck in one of the gaps, and she's grasped onto a painting on the wall. Even within a second, her grip is slipping.

Lockwood throws a salt bomb, drawing the ghost away as your reach over, careful not to fall down the gap yourself, and grab Lucy's hand, pulling her back up.

"You okay?" you ask, still holding onto her. "No ghost touch?"

She shakes her head, mumbling, "No. I'm okay."

Something in your chest eases at that. The case is nowhere near over, but she's okay for now, and you find that's all that matters to you.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜: 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝚂𝚊𝚗

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, justifying, encouraging nor trying to romanticize or promote yandere behavior. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

Warnings: Mentions of toxic relationship, violence, torture, murder, death, degradation, sexual scenes that might disturb some readers, and other yandere behavior. Read at your own discretion.

Tag list: @seacottons

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 :

𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎: 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝚂𝚊𝚗

𝙳.𝙾.𝙱: 𝙹𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝟷𝟶𝚝𝚑, 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟿

𝙷𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝: 𝟷𝟽𝟻 𝙲𝙼/ 𝟻'𝟿 𝙵𝚃

𝙰𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: ■■■■■100%

𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: ■■■■□90%

𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢: ■■■■■100%

𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: 𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝙳𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌

𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙰𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚜:

•𝚂𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚖.

•𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛.

•𝚄𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙱𝙳𝚂𝙼 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜.

•𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍.

•𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜.

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It was his sweet and innocent smile...

That's how it always starts with him.

Everyone falls victim to that smile that radiates happiness with dimples that captivate your heart.

But he never chases anyone down.

San wants them to chase him, so he plays hard to get.

And he's not looking for a relationship, he just enjoys hooking up with people.

No strings attached, no commitments, his booty call list is miles long.

And then you came along.

What was it about you that drew Choi San to you?

Was it your pure and intact body?

Was it your curious and inexperienced eyes that begged for excitement and adventure?

Perhaps a mix of both aspects?

Whatever it was, the day you crossed paths with San, was the day you crossed paths with the devil himself.

"Hi. I'm San....pleasure to meet you."

San's first goal with you was just to get in your pants like he did with the rest.

But you weren't easy, and when he found out you were a virgin, the goal changed.

Now he wanted you.

He became obsessed with owning everything about you: your mind, body, heart, and soul.

He wanted it all and he'd get it no matter the cost.

So he plays the sweet caring boyfriend for a while.

Yes, Choi San was exclusively yours, much to the shock and disappointment of others.

As a boyfriend, he was very caring to you.

Perfect gentleman that held you in high esteem and made you feel like you were the most important person in the world.

You truly fell deeply and madly in love with his charms.

So you had no qualms about letting him take your virginity, letting him be your first.

After all, he did love you.....right?

Well he did love corrupting you.

And after your first night together, he became more demanding and started showing aggressiveness towards you.

He'd never hide his displeasure if he saw you wearing something he didn't like.

"Why are you wearing that in public? You look like a whore."

He'd make you tell him your every move about where you went and with whom.

And if you didn't answer or reply to his messages, he'd somehow always find you.

"Why the fuck weren't you answering me? When I talk to you, I demand an answer."

And if there was a particular thing he absolutely hated, was your male friend that you often saw.

"I don't want you hanging out with that friend of yours."

"He's my childhood friend? He's like my brother. " You told him.

San just glared at you. "I don't care. I don't want you hanging out with him. That's final."

You rolled your eyes at him and thought he was just being jealous.

It was wrong of you to disobey him.

Next time he came over to your house, you were there with your friend...

If that scene alone didn't make San angry, the fact you were wearing a very thin tank top and revealing shorts made him get rigid.

"I thought I fucking told you never to see him again!" He screamed at you, striking fear in you at the way he raised his voice.

Your friend, however, wasn't scared of San and decided it would be good to stand up to your possessive and controlling boyfriend.

"You need to leave Y/N alone. She doesn't deserve to deal with someone like you."

Grabbing your hand, your friend tried to take you away from there, but San wasn't having it.

Roughly, he gripped your arm and pulled you away from your friend, placing you behind him.

"She's not yours to decide what to do. She's mine. Got it?"

Your friend wasn't going to give in that easily. He shoved San which culminated in fists flying from both of them.

"Stop! Stop it! Both of you!" You begged, covering your eyes at the violent scene.

They ended up in the kitchen, with your friend gaining the upper hand and holding San down against the counter.

It all happened too fast for you to react:

San grabbing a knife which was withing his reach, coming up and striking your friend in his lower abdomen....

And it didn't stop there.

San took out the knife and began to repeatedly stab him until his body collapsed on the floor, completely lifeless.

You were in such shock you couldn't find your own voice to scream for help.

The last thing you saw was San's diabolical eyes looking at you, his footsteps getting closer to you before you passed out from shock and the intensity of what you just witnessed.

You woke up approximately 12 hours later, feeling sore and somewhat sticky.

You let out a mix between a whine and a moan when you feel something very familiar sliding in and out of you.

Turning your head, you're met with a smirking San, his hands on your hips as his cock thrusts deep inside of you.

Looking down, you notice your hands are bound by handcuffs that are tied to the bed.

You jostled the handcuffs, trying to get them off you but were met with a harsh slap to your ass by San.

"Don't you dare." Was his only warning before snapping his hips even harder, making you come all over him in mere seconds.

For the first few days, he kept you handcuffed to his bed, refusing to let you go.

"If I let you go, you'll try to run away. I can't have you doing that."

So your days consisted of waking up with San next to you, having him feed you things which you swore had something in them since you always ended up feeling drowsy afterwards.

And of course having him fuck you like you were his personal sex toy every single night.

Finally one day, he removed the handcuffs from you.

"Try to run away and I will break your ankles."

He often had to leave the house for work, so the first day you were left to wander around, you stupidly tried to check if any windows or doors were left unlocked.

But they weren't. They were all bolted in and out.

And San walked in just in time to see you try to smash open one of the windows.

"Seriously?! I give you a simple order and you disobey me?!"

You ended up not being able to walk for 6 weeks because San was true to his word: he broke your ankles.

Now you were deathly scared of pissing him off.

So you tried your best to just please him, do whatever he asked you to do.

Whether it'd be cooking him food, cleaning the house, sucking him off or letting him do any of his depraved sexual acts on your body.

The only request you actually enjoy doing for him is when he asks you to cuddle up next to him.

Feeling his chest move up and down, hearing his heartbeat while his hand strokes your hair, you think maybe.....just maybe.....there's still a hint of the sweet man you met at first, the one you fell in love with..

But that image is quickly shattered whenever he pushes you off him or strikes you across the face because you 'glared at him or rolled your eyes at him.'

And you can't even cry in front of him because it just angers him even more.

Once, he held a pillow over your face so as to muffle your annoying little whimpers.

And another time he almost drowned you in the bathtub.

Sometimes you really did wish he'd end your misery.

As the days passed by, it was getting harder and harder to deal with his violent mood swings.

Nothing was ever good enough for him, and if anyone from the outside world angered him, you were the one who had to bear the punishment.

Either in the form of harsh beatings or so many overstimulations.

"San...." You whined, tears falling out of your eyes as your body couldn't handle another orgasm.

San merely slapped your swollen and red pussy, making you hiss at the stinging pain.

"I'm not done with you yet my little slut. This dirty hole of yours belongs to me and I'll fuck it as many times as I want to." He growled in your ear.

You were often left limping for a day or two, while San merely snickered under his breath, proud of himself for ruining you yet again.

With how much sex he was making you two have it surprised you how you never ended up pregnant, considering that he always went in raw with you.

Your question was answered one day when your period came late and it was excruciatingly painful.

You were bleeding more heavily than usual and it felt like your guts were being ripped apart.

San took you to the hospital, warning you not to say anything.

It's not like you could anyway, you were in so much pain and under heavy medication that you never got the chance to say anything.

Especially not when San took you home early so you wouldn't get the chance.

"What happened? What did they do to me?"

Grudgingly, San handed over the hospital papers to you.

You felt like you lost the ability to breathe when you read that it was necessary for them to remove your uterus since it had been severely damaged by some weird chemical substance.

"I don't understand! I've never taken anything! Have I?!"

San only blinked at you, then looked down and walked away from you.

That's when it hit you: every time he made food, and you always ended up feeling weird.....

San had been altering with your own body all this time!

You were beyond disgusted, you were repulsed and you hit your breaking point.

Something in you snapped as you marched up to San and pushed him into the wall, demanding to know why he would do that.

"So you wouldn't get pregnant! If you had gotten pregnant, I would have had to be soft to you. I wasn't going to do that." He admitted that so casually, as if there was nothing wrong in the way he treated you.

And that was it for you, the last straw of your sanity left as you slapped San harshly across the face.

Of course he retaliated, but you weren't going to give in so easily.

Using whatever strength you had left, you tried to fight him off, even going as far as breaking a vase over his head, which rendered him immobile for a while.

You ran to the basement, and picked up a can of gasoline and a couple of matches.

Running back inside, you spilled the contents all around the hallway, the living room and in the dreaded bedroom that you loathed with every fiber of your being.

Then you struck up a match and let it fall, watching as part of the house burst up in flames.

You went to a part of the house that you left intact, where there was a window.

Picking up a baseball bat, the same one San had used to break your ankles, you tried to break it open, succeeding only in cracking it...

Before a pair of bloody arms pulled you back and dragged you deeper into the burning part of the house.

You struggled to get out of his grip, but he was much stronger than you and the black fumes that you were inhaling were only debilitating you more.

The last thing you remember was San glaring at you, wrath written all over his face as he said his final words to you:

"If I'm going to hell, I'm dragging you down with me...."

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[synnefo-nefeli]

For the dribbles, klapollo, "I'm too sober for this"

So sorry I am late for this!!!  I didn’t forget! RL has been busy!

***

Apollo knew that eventually, he would have to deal with “that side of” Klavier.  It came with the territory of living in LA and dating a celebrity.  Apollo would have been okay with it, if Klavier’s celebrity remained solely on the side of the Law- kinda like Mr. Edgeworth.  At least Apollo had some common ground there and Apollo was making a name for himself too.

But no, Klavier was very much a celebrity in the “Razzle Dazzle LaLaLand” vein and Klavier remained in contact with his A-Lister friends and the Movers and Shakers of the Music and Entertainment Industry.  And while going to mansions out in the Hills, and rubbing elbows with the most beautiful people in the world, would be a dream for many, Apollo dreaded the idea despite him knowing that him being there for Klavier at these events was important/ things that came with the territory of being a good boyfriend.

“It’s going to be fine, Spatzi,” Klavier offered as he drove them past the security checkpoint at the mansion’s gatehouse, “It’s just a party.”

Apollo nervously chewed at his lip watching the scenery drive-by, “At one of the biggest director’s homes in the city.”

“He’s a normal person, Spatz-”

Apollo turned to shoot Klavier a look, “We’ve been on this driveway for like minutes, and the house is nowhere in sight, normal person, my ass Klav.”

To his credit Klavier only offered a gentle laugh and an “ah, ja, this is a little much” and kept driving.

Apollo sighed wishing he didn’t feel an impending sense of dread and social anxiety.  It wasn’t fair- Klavier went to all the things Apollo asked him to attend happily, but then again Klavier was a natural crowd-pleaser and an extrovert extraordinaire.  He made friends wherever he went.

“You never told me what the party was about,” Apollo offered as the house finally came into view, “or how you know this guy? I know the scenes intersect a lot, but you really don’t have a lot of dealings with Movie Bigwigs…”

“Ah, we know each other from a club.”

That was new. Apollo cycled through his information about Klavier before they started dating.  Was he talking about a Country Club?  Klavier never mentioned that he belonged or if the Label Record ever gave them access to one- was Klavier holding out on him? A country club would be nice…Apollo’s apartment complex’s gym was rather mediocre… 

But Klavier had that intense look on his face; the only he usually got whenever the man was ready to give as good as got in court; as much as Klavier didn’t participate in sports, the prosecutor was incredibly competitive. 

He was about to ask about what club Klavier was referring to, but they were pulling up to the valet and Apollo’s door swung open to reveal the attendant waiting for Apollo to exit the Mercedes.

There were a lot of people milling about, and Apollo picked up on the tense feeling that seemed to resonate within the crowd.  He wanted to mention it to his date, but Klavier was wearing his steel and cooled expression, not the usual easy-going one as Klavier took Apollo by the hand and lead them to the entrance.

“We’ll stay as long as I need to defend meine crown…we can leave as soon after if you’re not enjoying yourself-”

“Crown?” he asked bewildered, “what is this? What sort of thing are we-” but then they were being swept into the gargantuan house, and Apollo was being introduced to many people he was certain that he wasn’t going to remember their names in the morning.

For the most part it was a typical LA house party.  Many beautiful people, alcohol flowing freely and music playing a little too loudly.  Totally Klavier’s scene…so why was he acting so intensely…and passing up the alcohol?  

“Uhh, Babe?” Apollo offered trying to offer Klavier some of his cocktail, “are you okay?”  Was Klavier acting this way for Apollo’s sake? If so Apollo felt badly that Klavier would sacrifice his good time just because Apollo was being socially awkward.

But Klavier waved him off, his typical smile returning, “Later baby, I need meine wits and coordination about me…Ah there is our host. It’s about to begin!”

“What’s about to begin?!”

A large middle-aged man, one of Hollywood’s elite producers and directors wandered onto the stage that was set up between the large speakers,

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome to the 25th annual South California Alpha Delta Chapter, AIR GUITAR COMPETITION!  We have a roster tonight that is sure to thrill-”

The words drowned out as he looked over at Klavier, who was looking at their host with a look of excited anticipation.

“An Air Guitar Competition?  You’re a part of an Air Guitar Club?”

“Ja,” Klavier smiled, “And I’m the reigning champion four years running…und I want to make it five,” he was practically purring.

Apollo frowned, “Wait…this is a thing….how have we been dating and I don’t know this about you?!”

Klavier feigned wounded, “Ach, baby…how do you think I got so gut at it?”

Apollo groaned, “I don’t know…I figure you were good at it because you know, you play the ACTUAL guitar and you’re an ACTUAL rockstar?”

“Ah baby, you’re such a gut and supportive boyfriend. This is why I love you…you always think the best of me-”

“That’s not it, fop, and you know it-”

“Competitors please come to the back to receive your performance number and submit your set lists.”

“That’s mine cue, baby,” Klavier leaned over to kiss Apollo, “be meine lucky charm?”,

A thrill went up withing him, how could he say no to someone like Klavier, despite this most ridiculous scenario. Apollo blushed, “Uh, yeah, sure. I mean of course?”

Klavier gave him another kiss,”You’re the best, mein liebling,” then he disappeared into the crowd of the queuing competitors.

And then he was alone.

“There are seats over there, sir,” an attendant who was in charge of crowd control said and pointed  Apollo to sit at a table with people who were more than likely the unfortunate spouses and significant others who had been dragged to support the competitors.  

Apollo stood before the table looking bewildered looking between the stage and the new group of “friends for the evening”.

“First time?” a woman with several empty glasses in front of her. 

Apollo nodded.

“Let me guess,” another man, Apollo vaguely recognized from a celebrity rag sheet slurred, “he didn’t tell you until you were inside what this is?”

“Pretty much.”

The woman patted the spot beside her, “Come here and drink with us dear, you’re in for a long night. Your boyfriend is favored to win.”

So Apollo sat and found two more drinks set in front of him, “So how much do I have to drink to not have second-hand embarrassment.”

“A lot…just smile and maybe you’ll be cheerfully supportive by the time the costume round starts.”

“C-costume Round?!?”

“Yup, that’s house they get performance points on top of their technical points… so we don’t end up with ties…and stay here longer than needed.”

“There are points?!”

The lights dimmed and a hush went over the crowd as the first competitors took the stage.  Strains of Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me” struck up as the competitors began to guitar “duel”.

It was interesting he had to admit and the competitors seemed to be into their imaginary guitar battle…some of them definitely had the flare to make Apollo forget that they didn’t have actual instruments in their hands.  

But then his mind kept circling back to the point that at some point, Klavier was going to be on stage and he was going to have to be his Klavier’s supportive and loving boyfriend throughout this silly thing.

“Another sir?” A waiter asked offering a tray filled with several sugary cocktails, 

Apollo took one, “Yes, please.  I am still too sober for this-”

The waiter smiled and Apollo almost missed the, “you’re not the first to say that, sir” as the man walked away.

And so Apollo settled back to witness his very glimmerous boyfriend wow a crowd of Hollywood elites, with nothing but attitude, stage presence, and a guitar made of air.

When Klavier eventually took the stage in a dazzling purple sequined number, he was greeted with the cheers and applause as per usual whenever he was on a stage. However, the drunkenly enthusiastic shout of

“KNOCK THEM DEAD! GO ROCKSTAR BOYFRIEND!” 

was enough to spur Klavier to a certain and decisive victory.