A Means of Communication

Chapter 6: Microphones

Descendants of Ra entered the stage. Jounouchi and the others immediately launched themselves out of their seats, throwing their hands into the air and screaming, but Yugi stayed in his chair. He felt no urge to jump up like the rest of them; it was even sort of entertaining to watch them making fools out of themselves. Sure this Atemu guy was hot, no lies about that, and a great singer and, alright, the music was good but the magic was gone. Yugi no longer felt interested in anything else other than Yami.

Sure this Atemu guy seemed amazing but he was probably like every other famous person, filled to the brim with his own ego, stuck up and rude. Yugi even felt a strange sort of satisfaction in blaming Atemu for everything bad that had happened in his life. And he had pictures of this guy in his room? And he had dyed and shaped his hair to look actually like his? Yugi shuddered. What had he been thinking? Surely this guy was not worth all of this mess, not when he had Yami. Not when he was meeting Yami so soon, or at least soon compared to the hours of life that he had wasted talking about Atemu or listening to Atemu's music or gazing dreamily at his picture.

Still, it had been because of Atemu that Yugi had met Yami in the first place.

'I wonder what Yami smells like...' Yugi pondered, only mildly interested in the music as though it was pleasant background noise.

The minutes passed and Yugi found himself less and less interested in the show. He ended up staring lazily at the flashing lights letting his mind drift towards Yami. Yugi was thinking about Yami so much, he was starting to scare himself.

'I haven't even met him yet...' Yugi reminded himself sternly, blushing furiously. He became restless, shifting constantly in his chair. The seat he was sitting in became horribly uncomfortable. The concert was like some weird torture session. His emotions were constantly going up and down, thinking about Yami and longing for the show to end.

Yugi looked at his watch. It was just after 11 o'clock. Yugi's heart raced. Surely he could leave now. Yami might be early if he wasn't actually at the concert, besides it would be a good idea to leave before the crowds then he wouldn't have to fight his way out of the auditorium.

His mind made up, Yugi leaned over and whispered in Anzu's ear.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said. Anzu, too distracted by the concert, just waved a hand at him. Yugi jumped from his seat and dashed down the hall, throat clogged.

((6))

Sweat from the heat of the lights covered Atemu's whole body and his throat ached from screaming into the microphone. He didn't have a watch on, he wasn't allowed one on stage, but they were nearing the end of their program so they had to be over soon.

'What if it's after 11:30 already?' he thought in panic. 'What if I took too long singing the songs?' He couldn't see three feet in front of him; the lights were flashing again. Finally, their last song was ending. The audience cheered and screamed. Atemu looked desperately for an exit. The concert would be over the moment he got off that stage.

"Thank you," he called, voice strained and out of breath into the microphone. "You've been a great audience." The crowd jumped from their seats, screaming for an encore but he just waved tiredly and began to walk off stage. "Goodnight!"

The darkness of the back stage blinded him for a second. He blinked and fought to clear his vision from the floating green and orange spots in his eyes. He trailed a hand along the wall as he struggled to find his dressing room.

Suddenly, there was a hand on his shoulder. It stopped him in his tracts and turned him wildly around.

"What? Who's there?" Atemu said squinting through the darkness. There was a hand on his head. Someone was in front of him, someone barely an inch or two taller than himself. The hand pulled his head roughly closer; lips met his in the darkness. Atemu was too disoriented and confused to contemplate this action. Someone, out in the darkness, was kissing him. They weren't half bad either. Atemu pulled himself away and saw a wave of pale blond hair.