The song appearing in this fic is Ben Jelen's "Come On," which I do not own. Nor particularly like, for that matter... why exactly did I write this fic again? Anyway, I just revamped it, so it's probably a bit better. I didn't feel like going all out for something I'm not going to repost, though.



The conclusion of the music falls over the crowd, though I can't hear anything but the faintest edge of their screaming because of my earplugs. Their constant noise gets on my nerves, makes me want to just stop singing and go home, but I love it too much. It's in my blood. It fills my heart so that everything slips away until there is nothing that I can't do.

Their faces are excited. The only one that is standing still, just watching, just listening to the music is getting picked on by his bubbly friend. I flash him a private smile, one shared between music-lovers, and he nods with a shy look in his eyes.

"Well, there was your encore. No more," I say plaintively. "Sumimasen."

They squeal at hearing my native language. It makes them yell and jump up and down, screaming my name. The boy stares for a moment more, then pushes his way towards the exit already. He came for the music and the music only. He's special.

I want to talk to him, but I doubt it will happen. I'm a famous rock star, after all. Yami Mishima doesn't talk to the commoners; they're below him. Below me. But that boy... that boy with the long white hair and the shy smile... he was special.


I leave those words, trailing off over the crowd and lingering as my ruby eyes linger on that boy until he makes it to the door, where another friend meets him. He laughed softly; I couldn't hear him over the screams of the crowd, but I saw the way his eyes lit up. Then he goes outside.

I sigh and make my way into my dressing room, the sounds of those awful crowds behind me.


Tonight - another night, another concert and another tour. Another year. One year older from when I had seen that angel with the white hair, but I had forgotten him already. No matter how much I wanted to remember, with my life there isn't really any chance that I'm going to remember.

There was one thing I did to remember, though... one thing...

"And finally the silence

Lookin' out, lookin' back across the sky

Trying to find a meaning

Knowing that I just left it all behind,"

I sing longingly, my voice leaving them enthralled. They can't stand knowing that I'm so close to them and they can't touch me. They want a taste of my fame, their ten minutes in the limelight.

I had seen that beautiful laugh of that boy's in person. Knowing that a pharaoh couldn't go out among his subjects, I hadn't done the smart thing and talked to him. I hadn't been able to get him out of my head for months. But, like everything in my life, it faded away after time with just a song to remember him by.

"Still I smell a lingering softness

Where did she go, how did she go?
I wanna. wanna know

I wanna know that she'll be comin'

Here, to me"

I remember him every time I sing this song, though. The dim lights of this club are surrounding me. My face-- described as "absolutely GORGEOUS!" in thousands of magazines-- is lit by the lights perfectly, as faint as they are. Shadows creep along the crevices of visage, making my eyes seem bloodied even as golden bangs fall into them. My black and red hair is pulled back into a ponytail, most of the gold with it, but some left to frame my face.

I just sing to them, weaving a web of beauty and lies to them. I couldn't have sold this song to the public if I had said "he" instead of "she". I say it to myself, when I sing to myself and myself only. Sometimes I slip when I sing it for friends, but never in public. I suppose it's possible that they wouldn't even notice. It's rare that most people even bother listening to music.

My eyes catch on a familiar face. It actually takes me a while to place it. Angelic, pale, a flush stretched out over alabaster cheeks and a rapt look in soft mint green eyes. That look was eventually the one that made me recognize him.

That boy. Beside him is someone else; I'll assume that it's his brother, since they look just about the same, but from the way they act, I don't think it is. They're too... close. A pang of jealousy swings through me; how dumb. I didn't talk to him the one chance I had.

I sing privately to him, though; this is his song. I swap in a different line for him. Our gazes are caught and I hope he remembers.

"Come on

Without you I'll never feel the love inside of me

Come on

It's been so long

Come on, come on

Come on, come on"

His eyes widen; I know he remembers. I smirk even as I grab the cold mike and words pour out of me fluidly. My manager is staring at me oddly from the side. Kaiba is probably wondering what the hell is wrong with me, to miss a line like that. He came all this way from Japan to see me, away from his big company, and this is the thanks he gets? Yeah, that's probably what he's thinking.

I roll my eyes at him, then flick them to the white-haired boy. His own icy gaze turns in the direction of mine, then widen. I think he understands all too well; he glares before shrugging as if to say it's my life

But it isn't. I belong to the music industry. In this one second, with this one beautiful boy, I can pretend that it doesn't. It doesn't matter that I've been bought and sold, it doesn't matter that the other teenager next to him is glaring possessively. Nothing matters. This once, I don't need to win.

"Thinking back before her

I never knew the meaning of alone

Still the flag is feeling foreign

I live the day to escape into a phone

Speaking of a world not real then"

Yes, this song is all true. A sigh escapes me quietly, flowing into the music effortlessly. It's so easy to do this, so easy it would surprise you. Gods, my grandpa should have been mad I took the easy way out. He's proud though. Why? I guess he's got Yugi to help him now.

For those months after I saw this boy, I felt so alone. I had never even realized how isolated I was; if I wanted a conversation, I called up Yugi. If I wanted anything else, I had it. There was no trying, no working for it. It was all just so easy and bland that it seemed to slip by without me knowing it.

But I was alone.

In a deeply pensive mood, I finish the song and take a break. When I come back, the boy and his "friend" are gone.

I bite out some heavy metal lyrics, my mood changed. I'm alone again.


There ya go. Revamping finished. As much as it can be.