Hello readers! Well, it's been a while since I updated and for that I'm truly sorry. Things happen, and blah blah blah. So this is for you guys who are stil standing by this story despite my procrastination and writer's block. I can't say I can promise I will update more regularly though. I'm a teenage girl, who is in her junior year of high school. I'm busy and life is full of unexpected things. I can say I will try harder. That's all I can give you. So without further ado, here is the next chapter! :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, just these words. I also do not own the song "Bridge Over Troubled Water". This is purely for entertainment.

Don't expect too much. From anyone.

Showtime.

Well, almost.

Demyx fiddled idly with the strings of his sitar, accompanied by Namine and her friends behind the curtain. Of course Axel was busy working, so he really didn't have the time to be a supportive best friend. A soft sigh escaped his pursed lips. Where was he?

His little sister wrapped a petite arm around his, nuzzling his shoulder to comfort him. "It's okay Demyx, he's always late, you know that." Translation: he probably won't show up, but don't look so sad.

"I know," he mumbled, quietly thanking her under his breath. How did he allow himself to get such high hopes. It had been rather silly of him- that he couldn't deny.

He kissed her forehead before promptly standing up. "You guys can go grab seats before it gets crowded. I have another fifteen minutes before I go on anyway." She nodded up at her older brother, bright eyes telling him it'll be okay no matter what happened that night. Her innocence made him almost believe her.

The blond watched as she trailed off with her small group of friends, Zexion's little sister and a few others whose names had escaped him due to his lack of visits to his mother's house. He was glad she was making some though, slightly jealous all in the same moment at how popular she was becoming at her high school. Demyx wished he had such a tight pack when he was younger.

His eyes peaked through the curtain out of curiosity. The audience were certainly not lacking in any aspect that night, he noted. For the most part, anyway. He shifted his sight to the clock hanging crookedly on the wall. Twelve minutes, and still no sign of him.

"As usual." Nothing ever changed in his family. He wasn't going to show up, he just knew it.

"But what if he did?" Demyx asked no one, surrounded by unused chairs and instruments covered by white tarps that made imaginary hills behind the stage. He smiled at the thought of the floor being a field or valley, and the clutter being the snowy mountains. He almost wished he was actually there opposed to the show he was about to perform for hundreds of people.

Plopping down in a previously uncovered chair, Demyx relaxed a little. His tense shoulders bobbing down in relief. If only Axel was there to cheer him up. The male thought back to before the redhead's shift, and the way he wrapped a toned arm around his bony figure and rubbed his spiked blond hair.

"Promise me you'll be okay if he doesn't show, Dem." Axel pressed his nose against his best friend's, a half smile forming on his mouth. "Please. This is your night, and I don't want it ruined."

"No, no, I'll be okay. My mom always told me not to expect too much of anything anyway. So, I'm used to it." All lies aside, Demyx did have pretty high hopes for his dad's visit. He had just seem so genuinely excited to come see him perform.

"You're positive?" He asked again, his emerald stare cutting through the musician.

Slightly hesitant to answer, Demyx flashed a smile at him. "Of course I'm positive! I always am!" But you really aren't, he thought to himself as he so innocently lied to his friend.

"Well, okay then." The taller man pulled away, giving him a soft pat on the back. "Knock everyone dead. Or not.. then we wouldn't have customers, and then we wouldn't get paid, and then-"

"I get it, I get it," the male laughed, throwing his Sitar's case onto his back. "Thanks Ax, have a nice time at work. I'll try not to knock everyone dead tonight so you can afford your apartment space."

But as soon as he had walked away, the laughter had stopped. The giddiness dissolved. He felt sad again. The need to see his father walk through those club doors only grew bigger as he headed out back to warm up before the club opened for business that night.

His cerulean eyes were snapped open at the sound of footsteps creaking up the small set of stairs to the side of the back room. "Hello?" He called out, hand cupped around his pink mouth.

"Hey." Demyx couldn't believe his eyes. Shorter than sin with dark eyes and a haunting face that seeped into his skull, Zexion stood before him. He practically glowed in the dim lighting, he couldn't help but notice this as he stared.

"Hey." It was practically a squeak. His cheeks flushed. "What are you doing here? Not to be rude, I'm sorry if that sounded rude-"

"I just came to check up on you." Despite his monotone way of putting it, the blond could see the slight gleam of care in his cobalt gaze. Slight, being the operative word.

"You came to check up on me? Are you sure you're not he one who needs to be checked out? I have a hospital on speed dial you know..." He giggled nervously, heart thumping in his chest. Not completely sure why it was going at it so hard. "Sorry, sorry. But seriously, check up on me?"

Zexion (not so subtly) masked his curiosity as he watched the male's eyebrows raise with intrigue. "Yeah," he started, shifting his eyes anywhere but directly into Demyx's, "I was sitting at the table when Axel came over and started talking about your father. He then rambled on about how I shouldn't tell you he told me, but I didn't really care. I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright. Xion said he hasn't shown up yet, as far as she knew... Has he?"

Muttering a mild curse towards the redhead, Demyx groaned, rubbing a temple as he peered up from his lap. "No, he hasn't."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." His smile was that of pain, not physical, just mental. Pain of getting his hopes up, and seeing them crash down before him. "I should have known better, really. But it means a lot to have you come in and ask me how I'm doing. The only person I can talk to is pouring coffee and mingling with strangers." His once airy laugh was nothing short of a crack.

"Things will work out, Demyx," Zexion insisted to him.

He brushed a loose strand of hair from out of his face. "How can you know that?

"I don't." He gave a simply shrug at his blunt comment. "But I can hope. Besides you have plenty of friends here to support you. The people who care are the people who stand beside you from start to finish, and all the others can, quite frankly, go fuck themselves." Demyx blinked at how nonchalantly the shorter man said it, all the while knowing he was right.

His stomach tightened into knots, unable to come up with logical words to counter or even reply to Zexion's statement. Six minutes until his performance was announced, and he was up on stage. "Are you one of those people?" He practically hit himself at the fact he strayed off the important topic. He blamed it on his subconscious, which knew his fragile mind couldn't possibly handle any more talk of the possibility of his father not showing up.

"I guess that's really up to you."

"Then why are you here?" Confusion danced with his words.

"Why do you think?"

He paused, taking a moment to think about the situation. "I really don't know, Zexion."

With a rare smile, the male turned for the stairs, heading back to take a seat (presumably with his younger sister). "Think about it, and ask me about it later." An almost silent good luck reached Demyx's ears before he disappeared from his sight.

He was such a strange character. But Demyx didn't mind. Despite the nausea, the blond felt slightly better about the whole situation. He whispered "thanks" into the musty air as he heard his name being called by an eccentric Marluxia, even though Zexion couldn't hear it through the walls. A part of him really believed if he tried, maybe he could.

But wall whispering was for another day. Right then and there, whether his father was there or not, he had to perform. His floorboards moaned as his feet came down on them full force. "No going back."

Not like he really had anything to go back to.

Sitar propped in his lap, Demyx gave a cheerful smile to his audience. "Hey guys! The name's Demyx Cerise, and I'm your entertainment for tonight!" Cheers, clapping- it wasn't all in his head or a laugh track in a stereo. The thought exhilarated him. "So first off, I'm going to be singing..."

He went through the motions, strumming the instrument with a musical passion he had in him his entire life and wailing raw notes that suited his voice and style. His lineup was a mix of genres, from pop to alternative and so on- a sloppy set that he, as an unexperienced performer (at least in front of a real audience, being payed and all), has through together last moment from a collection of songs he knew like the back of his incredibly clumsy hands.

Despite the randomness of the playlist, he executed them all perfectly, or at least, what he defined as perfect: no mess ups and great reactions at the end of them. Song by song, fast and slow, trailed on through the hour. Occasionally he'd tell or joke, or make a comment to communicate with his listeners, feeling satisfaction with every chuckle he rose out of them.

During those moments of not playing, he'd scan the the crowd of people. But throughout the night, he never caught one glimpse of the man he called his father.

The evening was coming to a close when Demyx cleared his throat to interrupt the steady flow of clapping. "Thank you, thank you all so much. So for my last song, I really wanted to dedicate a song for my father. I don't know where you are right now, but I'm singing 'Bridge Over Troubled Water'. Your favorite." He attempted to force a smile, not trying to show the crowd the sadness in his features.

He gently placed his Sitar into its respective case, picking up the mike to bring it over to the grand piano sitting on center stage. "I really hope you all like this," he grinned half-heartedly, slipping in the mike into a stand attached to the instrument.

Demyx began playing hesitantly, stroking the keys delicately as he sang the opening lines.

"When you're weary, feeling small,

When tears are in your eyes, I will dry

them all;

I'm on your side, when times get rough

And friends just can't be found,

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down.

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down."

He desperately pleaded not to mess up, afraid he might break down and cry in front of everyone. But he carried on strong, soon finding himself on the chorus, and smoothly transitioning into the next verse with ease. He looked over his shoulder as she sang, noticing a few members in the front row dabbing at the corners of their eyes with napkins. He spotted Axel giving him a thumbs up a little ways into the sets of tables, and rolled his light eyes.

"When you're down and out,

When you're on the street,

When evening falls so hard

I will comfort you.

I'll take your part.

When darkness comes

And pain is all around,

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down.

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down."

The blond really couldn't immerse himself in the music like usual, caught up in the meaning of the words, the faces in the crowd, and the man that wasn't there. He was nearing the end, he realize, the time passing much quicker than expected. His eyes caught onto a certain pair of cobalt irises, Zexion surprisingly never tearing his own stare away. His heart thumped at an unordinary pace, just by looking at him. How did he do it?

"Sail on silvergirl,

Sail on by.

Your time has come to shine.

All your dreams are on their way.

See how they shine.

If you need a friend

I'm sailing right behind.

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will ease your mind."

With a slight fumble over his late few words, Demyx's voice echoed throughout the club.

"Like a bridge over troubled water

I will ease your mind."

The people in the crowd stood up in hysterics, applauding and whistling their hearts out at his last performance. "Thank you," he spoke into the mike, "I hope you all have a good night!" As he stood up, he bowed humbly before locking up his case and beelining it for backstage.

Demyx's heart couldn't stop beating so damn fast.

After regaining his composure and being greeted by his youngest fans (Namine and her gang), Demyx Cerise found his butt being placed onto a bar stool by his best friend. "You killed tonight, Dem! KILLED."

Everyone cheered and patted his back, or ruffled his hair in their supportive manners. All seemed so natural, all seemed as if it should have been perfect. But with his father's absence, his mood was slightly dampened.

Attempting to get his over this one flaw of the night, he waved back to the bartenders before filing through the masses of customers to find Zexion. He did think about what he said, and honestly, he still had no clue. All he had were more questions opposed to answers. Anyhow, he was going to have a chat with the shorter man.

A few minutes flew by before he locked onto his target, sitting with a book in his lap as he drank his cup of visibly steaming coffee. "Zexion!" Demyx called out to him, ushering him over eagerly. From the distance, he could see the the male packing up his bag before he headed over. "Come with me!" Their hands were now connected as the hyperactive blond dragged him backstage once again to "confront" him.

"Yes? Did you give up trying to figure out what I had meant already?" Zexion quipped.

"Uh, well, no, well okay, yes! I just need to know!"

"Why do you need to know?" There was a slight tilt of his messy head, oddly hued locks falling over his eyes. "It's not like you're going to die if I don't tell you."

"Um, yeah, I probably will." Demyx corrected the sensical man before him. His hands found his shoulders as he lightly shook Zexion, eyes pleading for an answer.

He sighed, giving up on the idea of letting him wonder. It was that, or be bombarded with looks of innocence and whiny begging every time he saw him from then on out. "What exactly do you want to know?"

If he was a dog, Demyx's ears would have perked up with excitement. He stopped shaking the man, but never fully lifted his palms off the other's bony shoulders as they spoke. "Were you here to chaperone Xion," he started with wide eyes, "or were you here to see me perform?"

"Why does that matter-"

"Please, you said you'd answer me!" He reminded him.

Demyx stood there in silence, waiting for the other to say something. Anything. "I guess, you could say, I came here for you."

"What?" He felt that feeling of nausea bubbling in his stomach again. But this time, it felt more like butterflies. That were everywhere- buzzing in his throat, beating at his chest to be freed, against every curve of his body.

"I'm not repeating myself, number nine." There was a hint of joking in his tone that Demyx picked up on, perhaps even made up, using his wild imagination.

"I know you really don't like me all too much, Zexion, but thank you for everything tonight. I'm not sure if I could have gone onto that stage without you there." Demyx's face lit up with a smile as bright as the stars and sun combine, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

A feeling of shock jolted through Zexion's body. Not from the gesture, but from the fact his first instinct wasn't to just wipe it off his skin. "Yeah." In the blond's eyes, this was the equivalent of 'you're welcome Demyx'. And he probably was right.

"Good night Zexion! I'll be seeing you soon, okay?" A brief but tight embrace and the musician was off into the now clearing club. The male stood there, taking a few seconds to recollect himself.

"Night, Demyx."

What was going on?

I love you guys, despite this horrible chapter! Review, pretty please? That's usually what keeps me going. :)