✓THE SPACE BETWEEN THE STARS|| BakuDeku Au

Chapter Four: Did I Mention Angst?

Listen Before I Go↲ 
Billie Eilish

"Tell me love is endless, don't be so pretentious. Leave me like you do . . ."

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"You mind telling me what the hell this is, Katsuki?" Aizawa barked, the loud slap sound of paper hitting the wooden desk echoing throughout the office.

Katsuki heaved a sigh, scarlet eyes trailing down to the glossy magazine in front of him. He had yet to see this particular one, what with him still being hungover and all. Vague flashes of the previous night overloading the forefront of his mind as he gazed at it, eyebrows pulling together as he examined it more. He was on the cover of said magazine, lying on his back on the sidewalk, spiked blond locks sprawled out everywhere with a drunken daze plastered on his features. Of course, he looked like shit.

But what really struck his eye was the male on top of him, unruly green curls adorning his face — which were painted with a plethora of freckles. Holy shit.

"I specifically told you to try and refrain from being in the tabloids with this type of shit!" Aizawa continued, yet his screeching had been ignored. "Yeah, people are talking about your single in the article but they think you're dating this boy! How many times have I —"  

"Aizawa!" Katsuki interrupted, forcefully pushing the cover back towards his manager. "Who does that look like?" he asked breathlessly, breathing erratic and eyes scanning the room wildly.

The black-haired male ran his fingers through his hair, with pursed lips he finally inspected the magazine intently. When his eyes fully adapted to what the boy on top of Katsuki looked like he dropped the paper, leaning back in his chair with an absentminded look. 

"No," The elder man hummed, shaking his head vehemently. "Katsuki this is just someone who looks like him . . . You and I both know he's dead,"

However, again Aizawa's words were promptly ignored as Katsuki began to run his fingers through his spikes. This was supposed to be a lecture, one he was fully prepared for, but now . . . now it was just reminding him of all he had lost. Sensing the boy's drowning state, Aizawa repositioned himself in his seat — so he was now facing him with a stern yet empathetic look.

"This isn't him Katsuki," he cooed softly, "Now we'll circle back to why you were drunk and with this boy later on but . . . Do you need a minute?"

A ragged breath was all he got in response for a while. Katsuki's calloused fingers curled around the roots of his hair, his body rocking back and forth as he inhaled deeply through his nose. No. He couldn't allow himself to go there, he put the past behind him for a reason . . . His best friend was dead, and this boy he was caught with was just a doppelgänger of some sort. Right? 

Right.

"No I'm fine," Katsuki lied smoothly, plastering on his usual unreadable façade as his gaze flickered back over to his manager. "You were about to yell at me, right?" he snorted, earning a glare from the elder man.

However, before their discussion could continue any further the office door slammed open; five flustered and very perplexed people walked in. Ashido was on a warpath as she stomped over towards Katsuki and Aizawa, slamming an exact replica of their magazine on the desk —  Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, and Shinsou right behind her.

Now unlike Aizawa, the five didn't work for Katsuki or handle anything business-like with him on a regular. However, before all six of them went their separate ways in terms of music they were in a band together — which is how they all gained their publicity. They were all more like brothers and sister rather than ex-bandmates, which also meant caring deeply about each other's music careers.

"Katsuki fucking Bakugou you have some explaining to do young man!" The pink-haired woman seethed, eyebrows raised high and lips twisted into a snarl.

The blond resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he turned to face them all, arms folding across his chest as he tilted himself back in his seat. "Oh, forgive me, mother. I wasn't in the right state of mind when this picture was taken, please don't ground me." he deadpanned, obtaining a smack to the face lightly.

"Asshole," she muttered, clearly unamused by her friend's sarcasm.

The other males remained quiet, it wasn't that they were pissed off as Ashido was . . . It was more because they knew better than to step in when the two hot-heads were going at it. As nice and friendly as Ashido is, she had procured quite the temper from the blond male over the course of the past few years. Easily being able to match his anger and sarcasm with her own.

So as the young woman finished the lecture Aizawa started, Katsuki allowed his thought process to flow elsewhere. Memories from before filling his mind, yet he teetered over the edges of them heedful enough not to slip and drown in them as he were about to do earlier. They were so distant to him as if they had never occurred in the first place — which would be a good thing but . . . in some twisted way it wasn't. God as much as he hated admitting it, he wanted it to be vivid, to have every detail engraved in the crevices of his mind because that's all he'd ever get.

Not only was his friend gone, and he ran into some stranger who looked like an older version of him. What type of bullshit was that?

"Bakugou!"

Carmine eyes snapped forward, the miniature him in his mind finally pulling back from the edges of the memories and onto the mainland. Kaminari was leaning against the wall, a hopeful expression on his face before he spoke again.

"Were you listening to us?" The yellow-haired man queried, yet knowing the answer to his question just the same. "Maybe you running into this guy is a good thing," he re-explained shortly to Katsuki.

"You kidding me?" Katsuki scoffed, faint flashes of memories whipping past him. "How the hell is that a good thing?"

Aizawa cleared his throat, successfully gathering their attention as he began to re-explain what they were conversing when Katsuki was in his trance. "Katsuki, your fans, tabloids, hell everyone is talking about you and this boy. A lot of people think he may be the person you wrote the song about . . . And if that were true you'd gain a lot of publicity for the song as well as your upcoming album."

"Yeah, but it's not true — I don't even know who the guy is," Katsuki retorted, arching a blond brow as he eyed his manager and friends suspiciously. "What are you all getting at?" he demanded.

"It's not that hard to track someone down nowadays," Shinsou cut in monotonously, "What if we find this guy, work some deal out where he can pose as your boyfriend for a few months?"

Katsuki froze, eyes narrowed as he stared at the bare table before him in a daze. Slowly but surely his mind finally processed his friend's words, bringing a scoff from the rosiness of his lips. 

"No way in hell,"

"Need I remind you that your career is beginning to go to shit? Katsuki you are signed to the largest music industry in the country, a ten-year contract. Whatever you do reflects on them, I already had to stop your producers from coming down here in a rage," Aizawa growled, pretty fed-up with the blond and his attitude lately. "But this — this will bring you back on top.

The young artist released a low huff of disagreement, kneading his knuckles into the armrests of the chair. He knew his manager and friends had a point, hell, Katsuki could almost see the headlines now. If this mystery boy posed as his lover, not only would more people listen to the song and be interested in his upcoming album — but that'd also give the tabloids something else to talk about. Something refreshing. The only downside was that this boy, whoever he was, looked too much like his old friend.

And that'd be a problem.

"You all better have a good plan for all this," Katsuki scoffed, "So? Let's hear it . . ."

Hello Cricket Cultists!!

. . . Did I not mention that this had a well thought out plot and angst? . . . Hmm, silly me.

Theories??

Until we meet again!!!