andrew_in_drag | Superstar: 4/??

Title: Superstar
Author:

andrew_in_drag
Pairing: Kaoru x Toshiya
Rating: mature
Warnings: AU, slash, rock 'n roll excess
Previously: 1 | 2 | 3
Synopsis: He's more than a superstar. He's an idol, a hero, a god...
As teenagers, Kaoru and Toshiya share a dream: to get famous or die trying. When the opportunity arises, Kaoru betrays his friend to chase his future, but years later Toshiya is the star - and the lifestyle has him heading towards ruin...
Notes: Not much to say about this except that I will try to keep the daily updates coming, but my life is very busy and Canadian, so there might be a few gaps.

CHAPTER FOUR:

It was well past midnight by the time we arrived in Osaka. We’d hit the highway with our instrument cases and one bag each, a few clothes, a little cash, and on the dusty side of the road we had simply waited, talking and laughing non-stop because we were so nervous-excited, until a car had slowed for our twin cocked thumbs.And oh god, the city. We lumped our guitar cases in the passenger seat and sat side by side in the back, holding hands tightly, and when the lights of the highway had started to get denser and brighter we had glued ourselves to our respective windows, just gawking at the scene before us: our new life, shining into forever.
It’s my clearest memory: the lights, the noise. Like a city on fire. The air smelled like smoke and soot, and even though it was late the streets were still thick with people and their chatter. The bars were open and playing music: in our little village, we rarely saw another soul on the streets after eleven, and that was when we would go out, climbing the trees and shouting and throwing rocks at the glass of our one and only street lamp. I remember the sound of his bare feet running along a damp wall, his leaping shadow scaring a neighbour’s cat; I remember when he pushed me into the corn, and how it sounded in my ears and prickled all along my back, and how I always wanted to kiss him but couldn’t.
“We’re really here,” he laughed. Then his eyes grew a little misty and he turned back abruptly to look out of the window, and I squeezed his fingers between mine.

It was hypnotizing. Our kind driver dropped us off downtown and sped away, leaving us standing uncertainly in the street.
We were country boys. We’d never been to a big city – any kind of city – before. Why would we have? We were always told that everything we needed was right on our doorstep.
And we probably looked funny, but there was no way I could ask Toshiya to stop holding my hand. He had my palm in a deathgrip, and his lips set in that grim determined line that I would come to know so well in all the years that we struggled to make it: he stood with his knees braced and his back straight, like he was determined that the rush and pull of this city wouldn’t knock him down. His eyes, though, were fearful, and his free hand was twisting and tugging so hard on his hair that I thought he would pull it out.
“Where do we go?” he asked me anxiously. “What can we do?”
“Don’t panic,” I instructed us both. “We’re going to go into a bar and meet somebody, alright? And they’ll help us.”
“I can’t go into a bar, Kaoru! I’m seventeen!”
Quickly, I kissed him on the cheek.
“They won’t check you,” I promised.
“I’m seventeen,” he repeated hollowly, his face starting to turn an ashy colour, “What am I doing here?” He turned large, frightened eyes onto me, “Do you want to go home?” he asked in a whisper.
All I wanted to do was say yes, but I gripped his hand harder, felt my own bones crack next to his, found my resolve.
“Not a chance,” I said sternly, and I pulled him after me into the lights.

The bar I led Toshiya into was dark and dingy, pungent with the smells of sweat and smoke and alcohol, and even whilst I tried hard to look like I belonged – gaze down, posture rigid, blazing a trail to the bar – Toshiya’s eyes seemed to grow to the size of dinner plates. The music playing was something I didn’t recognise, and it made me feel small. I knew Toshiya felt the same. All our bravado was gone and we felt hick and country and smalltown, all those words that might as well have been dirty words, and I felt that everybody around us could sense just how out of place we were.
Still, we stumbled up to the bar together. From what I could tell, it appeared unattended. The floor was sticky, and I moved my feet uncomfortably.
“Excuse me,” I said foolishly, and at my words a bartender popped up like a daisy. For a second, I could only stare at him: his hair was dyed a bright crimson and hung all down his back; he was grinning at us, already enjoying us, and even though he’d startled me his face made me want to smile back.
“Sorry!” he breezed, waving an arm, “But it’s so hard watching other people drink, you know, I was dying for a nip.” He winked at me, apparently not noticing how startled I was by him. He was almost as tall as Toshiya, but somehow seemed bigger with it; it was the force of his character, making him larger than life. He swabbed a towel over the bar haphazardly and leant towards us, all spiky athleticism, “So: what’ll it be?”
“Oh. Just a beer,” I muttered. I heard a note of apology in my voice and wanted to wince; somehow, I knew that Toshiya needed me to be rockstar Kaoru in this moment. If I could be rockstar Kaoru, he could be rockstar Toshiya, and the two of us could laugh and be confident that we owned the world again.
“Nothing domestic,” I added on a whim. I made my voice stronger, “I want something I can taste.”
The bartender whistled.
“You got it. And for you?”
It was amazing: I could almost feel the little gears and parts of Toshiya slotting and clicking into place. I watched as he flicked his hair back and set a hand on his hip, adjusting to his surroundings, changing like a chameleon.
“Vodka and tonic,” he deadpanned.
The bartender smiled.
“Alright, kid, pull the other one; you look like you’re sixteen.”
“I’m twenty,” Toshiya announced hotly, thumping his fist on the bar top like a child. “I was twenty in March.”
The bartender’s smile turned to a grin.
“Alright, so what year were you born?”
“’Seventy-four,” Toshiya lied smoothly.
“What year did you graduate?”
“’Ninety-two.”
“When d’you turn twenty-five?”
“March of ‘ninety-nine.”
By now, the bartender was laughing. Toshiya’s cheeks were red, but he stared him down defiantly.
“I’m Die,” the bartender said at laugh, “And I don’t believe you’re a day over eighteen, but god damn you’ve got some fast math skills.”
He poured Toshiya’s drink and slid it over the bar, and I clinked my bottle against his glass.
“To the future,” I said, and Toshiya gave me a smile so wide I thought his face could split apart.

Quickly, Die became our first friend in Osaka. For years after meeting him I’ve been blessing my good luck, thanking God that I chose to walk into that bar instead of any other. As the hours grew later and the other patrons began to leave, Die remained leant over the bar, talking interestedly to us as we nursed our drinks. He seemed to want to know everything.
“That a bass or a guitar?” he asked Toshiya, getting him a refill. “My band’s looking for a new bassist.”
“It’s a bass. Do you need a guitarist, too?”
“Why?” Die asked, grinning, “Are you both?”
“No!” Toshiya flushed slightly, “Me and Kaoru play together. We always play together.”
Beneath the bar, where Die’s eyes couldn’t possibly see, I squeezed his hand. Still though, the bartender looked at us a little strangely, as if trying to figure us out; leaning on the bar, he rested his chin in his hand as he stared.
“You two,” he said finally, “You’re not from around here, are you?”
A patron at the other end of the bar banged his glass in impatience, and Die rolled his eyes. “Gimme a second.”
As soon as he left, Toshiya turned to me, his cheeks glowing and his eyes alive with excitement.
“What do we say?” he demanded feverishly, beaming in spite of himself. “Are we from around here? We could be from anywhere!”
I laughed and, drunk, he knocked his forehead tenderly against mine.
“I love this,” he whispered honestly, smiling so widely it made my heart hurt, “I love it. This is going to be our life, isn’t it?”
“It is our life!” I told him playfully, catching him by the hands. “Look at you. Look at us. We were born for it.”
“We were born for it,” he agreed seriously, squeezing my fingers hard. Lightning-fast, he kissed my cheek, and as I watched he leant back and shouted to our new friend, “Die, hey! We’re from the country! We arrived in Osaka a few hours ago, we’ve got no money, and we don’t even know where we’re going to stay!”
Across the room, our new friend laughed.
“Don’t be stupid,” he called back, “You’re staying with me.”
And he left us with the lights like stars in our eyes, huddled together, tired enough to fall asleep but excited enough to make it an impossibility. Of course we were staying with him.
It was as simple as that.