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Apollo had picked up the guitar as a hobby in college, as a way to keep himself from collapsing under the weight of the assignments and push himself through classes. For one semester, he had taken courses and by the end of it, he was entirely unsure of what exactly a chord was, but he was definitely having fun, so the classes stayed on his schedule for the next semester.
After a particular lesson, his professor had asked him if he would be interested in performing at the college’s music department showcase, and while Apollo had felt uncertain that his skill level was high enough for a true stage, the professor had handed him the information pamphlet and said he was looking forward to seeing him there.There were about a hundred or so people in the audience, mostly bored students or mildly interested staff, but still, it was the first audience that Apollo had ever played for.
He wasn’t so brazen to think that he’d be gracing Tokyo Dome anytime soon, but still, the rush he had felt from performing was one that could not be put into words. Of course, Apollo had mentioned this newfound joy to Clay, who had taken it upon himself to promote Apollo to the entire university, on Instagram, on fliers, even purchasing an advertisement in the student newspaper. It was, quite frankly, the most ridiculous thing that Apollo had ever seen but he was thrilled to have his best friend’s enthusiasm.
What surprised Apollo the most, however, was how many people were actually willing to pay him to play the guitar. Apollo’s expectations were low (read: zero) and he hadn’t expected anyone to actually take Clay’s claim of “Legendary Guitarist in the Making!” seriously, but apparently people were listening. At first it was just a small offer to help with a film project, another offer to play at a student-run gathering, but then one memorable evening, after Apollo had spent nearly seven hours in the library and had been ready to lie in bed for the next day, a student had stopped him and asked if Apollo could join their band.
All this to say, for the last several years, Apollo had been a traveling tour guitarist. From a couple of small college bands, to a decently large college band with a record deal, to performing with moderately famous bands when they were on tour, Apollo truly enjoyed playing the guitar. He liked how he could blend into the background and help create the melodies that the audience members would rock out to. He had never really performed in front of any audience that was astonishingly big, if he was big honest, but just the chance to perform was exhilarating.
After a couple of years of doing this, Apollo had broken down and let Clay create an Instagram page for him, on the condition that Clay would run it. Now, unlike Apollo, Clay had a more normal day job, quite literally doing rocket science, so Apollo had thought that condition would make Clay reconsider. If anything, however, Clay had become even more enthusiastic about the idea and immediately set up the account on Apollo’s phone. To this day, Apollo had literally no idea what the password was for the account, he just let Clay handle the posts; he did appreciate the little weekly updates that Clay would send, filled with numbers about followers and messages, though Apollo didn’t really understand if they were good or bad honestly.
It’s not that Apollo didn’t care about being known, he knew that it was important to cultivate a presence in order to increase his jobs (and, you know, achieve his dreams), but although he loved to perform in front of an audience, he was also unfortunately shy.He tended to get flustered about what to say when asked to speak, even at something simple like a small farewell message at the end of the concert, so he couldn’t imagine trying to post things online for complete strangers to see and comment on. If Clay wanted to run his account, Apollo was happy to let him so long as it didn’t require any interaction from him.
Frankly, Apollo felt like he had enough interactions just handling his work email. There was a business email mentioned on his Instagram page, Apollo was pretty sure, and the email was also given out to any interested parties who wanted to hire Apollo. There were, of course, the junk emails that would come through all the time, but Apollo had to go through the inbox regularly to keep an eye out for anyone who might want to hire him. Tonight, however, there were no actually important emails so Apollo was probably going to make it an early night. Perhaps pull out an actual book and read for a little bit before turning in, a perfect relaxing night.
His next job wasn’t for a couple of days, so he was taking advantage of not having a late-night concert (which is how he was going to justify not practicing that night). As he was grabbing some sweats from the drawer, he saw his phone flashing on the bed and saw Clay’s face fill up the screen. Clay video-calling out of the blue wasn’t unordinary, but it was still early enough that Clay would have been on his commute home.
“Hello?” Apollo asked, watching for a moment as Clay realized that Apollo had picked up.
“Oh my gosh, hey! So you’re never going to guess who just DMed me, well, you, but still!” Clay gushed for a moment, then stopped talking. Apollo realized that he was waiting for a reply, but had entirely no clue what this was about.
“Perhaps it’s about someone wanting to hire me for a concert?” Apollo asked sardonically, raising an eyebrow.
Clay rolled his eyes. “I mean, of course, but seriously, this is huge! The Gavinners want you to perform with them tomorrow night!”
Apollo frowned slightly, “I take it The Gavinners are well-known?”
“Well-known?!” Clay exclaimed incredulously. “Apollo, listen very closely. These guys are playing Tokyo Dome. They are beyond just ‘well-known.’”
For a moment, Apollo was speechless. Tokyo Dome was the dream, the achievement that all bands wanted but rarely could have, the chance of a lifetime.
“I told them you’d do it, that’s okay right?” Clay asked, though it wasn’t really a question. “I know it’s last minute, but you’re only doing backing guitar anyway, I didn’t really read the entire message honestly.”
“Of course…,” Apollo said faintly. He briefly asked Clay to send him the details before hanging up the phone and sinking down to sit on the bed.
Tomorrow night, at this time, he would be in the world famous Tokyo Dome. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. This is what Apollo had dreamed of for years and although the thought of there being over fifty thousand fans in that audience terrified him, he couldn’t help his excitement
His phone buzzed, interrupting his train of thought. Multiple messages had come in from Clay, followed by so many exclamation marks Apollo’s eyes felt a little blurry.
Based on the screenshots from Clay, they only needed him for the second part of the concert because of some situation with their regular second guitarist. That was a little less work at least, about 7 songs that Apollo would have to practice. They had included a note that mentioned they could have a space for him to put the sheet music so he didn’t have to memorize them, which Apollo knew was going to be absolutely necessary.
Before he could continue reading the messages, several more incoming texts came in from Clay. Apollo looked to see that Clay had sent several video links, and had then sent, “You absolutely have to watch these before tomorrow.” After a few seconds, one more message came in. “Don’t you dare put these off until tomorrow, watch them right now.”
With a sigh, Apollo reached over to grab his earbuds, connecting them to his phone before clicking on the first video. It redirected him to a social media site, and Apollo could immediately tell it was a video taken on someone’s phone. Not the best first start, but he tried to ignore it as he pressed play.
The camera was shaky for a moment or two, probably as the fan tried to adjust their camera settings, before finally settling on the stage. The lights darkened on the stage completely, leaving it nearly pitch-black before a single guitar chord was strung and the fans began to scream before the lights could even come back on. Without even realizing it, Apollo’s breath catched as he got his first glimpse of the lead singer, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him.
Even through the low quality footage, Apollo could see the devilishly playful glint in his eyes, noted the way his elegant fingers held the guitar close, saw how his long, blond hair was tied back in a simple braid tossed over his shoulder. There was a chain belt holding up his pants, and if Apollo had been actually paying attention, he would have noticed that motif repeated with all the other members. Not realizing that he had been pausing the video this entire time, Apollo lifted his finger to let the video continue playing. The singer’s voice was crisp, even through the bad idea, a bit deep as he sung the words to what Apollo could only call a power love ballad. Not at all the music he was expecting, yet he knew in an instant that it perfectly fit the lead singer.
He continued down the list of the videos Clay had sent him, pausing them at random intervals, and it wasn’t just to focus on the lead singer’s clothes, but on the music as well, alright? One of the videos was an official concert upload from the group, and Apollo definitely appreciated the high video quality, for more reasons than one (though if it especially highlighted the small braids that led into an elegant ponytail that was the singer’s chosen hairstyle for that concert, Apollo just appreciated that level of attention to detail, that was all).
After watching all the videos, and perhaps rewatching them as well, Apollo decided to take to the Internet for some answers. The first question, of course, was the lead singer’s name. Apollo knew that he could probably just ask Clay and get an entire Powerpoint presentation about the group (and he was only partly exaggerating), but he didn’t want to give Clue any suggestions or ideas about Apollo’s interest. This was just a responsible guitarist looking for more info on the group he was going to work with, nothing more.
Okay, well, perhaps a bit more but that was for Apollo and only Apollo to know.
Over the course of the next hour, Apollo learned nearly everything there was on Klavier Gavin, lead singer and guitarist for The Gavinners. Normally, Apollo would think that such a name was a bit conceited, perhaps even call it egotistic, yet he was willing to let Klavier have this one. Perhaps that wasn’t his usual nature, but Apollo was just feeling particularly generous towards Klavier, that was all. Perhaps Apollo found the old Twitter account that he had never used from years before, and after finagling with the password for several minutes, spent the next few minutes searching up all the recent info on Klavier. It was a lot of concert snippets, which Apollo dutifully saved for later watching, and many, many fan accounts. It truly was impossible to understate their popularity, as it would seem.
Apollo opened up his messages with Clay and his fingers hesitated over the keyboard for a minute before typing.
I do not think I can do this.
After less than a minute, Clay’s reply came. You can’t just not do this!
Apollo messed over the message, typing and retyping it several times. At some point, Clay must have become tired of the wait because another message came from him. The crowd’s huge, I get it! But you know I’ll be there the whole time!
That was definitely something Apollo was grateful for, the fact that Clay made it a priority to come to nearly all of Apollo’s gigs. He was usually with Apollo as an “equipment manager”, which made Apollo laugh because despite years of friendship, Clay had never really developed a fondness for the guitar. Honestly, most of the time he was backstage, just cheering on Apollo or doing some work with earplugs in, but either way, Apollo always appreciated the support he gave.
That’s not the entire reason.
Apollo didn’t think that he could just outright say it, that he was afraid he was going to make a fool of himself during tomorrow’s show for more reasons than one. That he was afraid of saying something ridiculous not just in front of Klavier but in front of his thousands of fans. Klavier could just ask Apollo to pass him another guitar pick and Apollo truly thinks that he would pass out silly over simply being addressed by him. And that, in Apollo’s dictionary, is the definition of an overdramatic problem that Apollo would like to avoid.
However, before he could continue down that trainwreck of thoughts, his phone rang, and he automatically picked it up.
“Apollo, I know that something is up. Spill,” Clay said, voice firm but kind.
Apollo, naturally, started his answer in the most roundabout way possible. “I had been watching the videos you had sent me…” he trailed off, but when Clay didn’t do anything more than hum, he knew that for once, Clay was expecting him to actually state his problems out loud. A completely ridiculous notion in Apollo’s mind, but he continued regardless. “I believe the best way to put this is that I have a type and that type is Klavier Gavin.”
The other end of the line was quiet for long enough that Apollo lifted the phone to make sure he hadn’t accidentally hung up on Clay, but eventually, Clay began to talk. “That… is definitely a situation.” Apollo wasn’t exactly known to be the most graceful man around his crushes, so he honestly thought that Clay was being gracious and underselling his actions. “Honestly Apollo, how do you even get yourself into these situations?”
Clay let out a small sigh before continuing. “I think the best course of action is that you need to just spend your time practicing and not focusing on the band, and… I guess we’ll figure out the rest from there.”
In true Clay fashion, a plan was best when it was created on-the-go, rather than carefully thought out for days in advance, as Apollo normally preferred. “I guess we already said I would be willing to do it,” Apollo sighed.
Clay hummed, “That and you know deep down you don’t want to back out from this. Anyway, I’ll be at your place around 3 tomorrow.”
“Why on Earth are you coming by so early?” Apollo asked.
“Well, this time, you have to dress to impress, don’t you?” Clay said, and Apollo could practically hear the smirk in his voice.
Apollo hung up the phone without an answer, though secretly he appreciated that Clay was always such a good friend to him. Despite his personal lack of interest, he had always supported Apollo’s dreams and was a constant that Apollo had gotten very used to having with him (especially during times when he was perhaps going through slightly ridiculous crises).
After taking a deep breath, Apollo grabs his laptop and drags himself over to the small room in his home that he had completely soundproofed; if nothing else, he might as well practice his songs so that at least he could pretend he was a competent guitarist tomorrow when all his faculties seemingly evade him.
Apollo was able to lose himself a bit in the rhythms of practice, focusing more on making sure that he was playing the correct chords and was keeping the correct tempo, distracting his mind enough to not remember all that was awaiting him tomorrow. In fact, by the time he decided to call it quits for the night, it had passed two in the morning, which shocked Apollo. It had been a long while since he had played for that late in the night, normally very proper about not overextending himself during his practice.
As he got ready for bed, he willed his mind to slow down his racing thoughts, giving him a chance to finally breathe for the first time the entire night. Yet, as he finally drifted off to sleep, he wasn’t able to ignore how his thoughts seemed to focus on a certain blond-haired man.
___
Once, Clay had made fun of Apollo for having only one alarm on his phone. “You always wake up before it, what’s the point?” At the time, Apollo had just shrugged and continued to set his alarm as normal.
Today was the first day in a very long while that Apollo had needed to hear the alarm to get up from bed, having had restless sleep the entire night. He tried to stifle a yawn as he quickly got changed, not bothering with anything elaborate knowing that Clay was going to completely disregard anything that he chose anyway.
After grabbing a bit of food, Apollo decided to take a few hours to practice before Clay would arrive, so that the music would be more fresh in his mind for tonight. This was probably the least amount of practice he had ever done for a show, and normally that would have bothered Apollo, but that was far from the most important thing on his mind at the moment.
He just barely heard his doorbell over his playing, hours later, but he quickly placed his guitar back on its stand and opened the door to a grinning Clay, clutching several shopping bags in his hand.
“Okay so, I don’t have much time but I got some essentials here that I know you do not have in your closet so don’t even try to protest,” Clay said before Apollo had even closed the door behind him.
Without pausing for a breath, Clay pushed them both towards Apollo’s bedroom, unceremoniously dropping all the bags on Apollo’s bed before turning to look at him. “Alright, to save time, I only brought outfits that I think you’d be willing to wear, but I did bring some fun accessories.”
Apollo winced, if only internally, just because Clay’s idea of fun accessories were completely out of Apollo’s comfort range, but on the other hand, he knew that Clay’s fashion advice would never steer him wrong.
After a bit of rummaging through the bags, Clay shoved a bundle of clothing in Apollo’s arms and ushered him to change. “I have extra sizes if you need them,” he called helpfully through the bedroom door.
Although the outfit definitely wasn’t his usual style, Apollo had to admit that the outfit both looked decent on him and it fit in with the unique look that The Gavinners had been sporting in all their videos.
Clay looked gleefully as Apollo walked out of the closet, clearly admiring his own handiwork, before approaching Apollo. “It looks good, let me just adjust this…” Clay hummed for a moment as he worked but stepped back so that Apollo would look at himself in the mirror.
The top was a silk vest, solid black but with a skull pattern (and Apollo still wondered where on Earth Clay was able to find such unique pieces), a white button up underneath that Clay had folded the sleeves of to, apparently, show off his forearms. The pants were skinny, skinner than Apollo would ever choose to buy for himself, but they suited the look well with their matching black color.
“Perhaps a bit dark for the band,” Clay admitted, “but I know you wouldn’t want to stand out too much on the stage.” He pulled out a pair of dark colored sneakers from his bag, holding them out to Apollo.
“I think these are probably best for the stage, and they’re black so,” Clay said, but Apollo knew that this was also him letting Apollo remain a little closer to his comfort zone for tonight. He appreciated the gesture, and set the shoes aside for the moment.
“So, what sort of hairstyle am I going with tonight?” Apollo asked, gingerly touching the back of his hair. Unfortunately, despite Clay’’s best efforts, there weren’t many styles that would actually stay in Apollo’s hair, but that didn't mean that Clay wasn’t willing to try and make something work.
“I think that we’ll go with your usual style, but…” Clay rummaged through another bag, triumphantly pulling out a spray battle. “A little glitter spray never hurt anyone,” he said.
And quickly enough, hair done and some eye makeup put-on at Clay’s insistence (“It makes them pop!”), and then they were finally ready to go. Clay quickly got dressed himself while Apollo pulled on his shoes and grabbed his already packed guitar case.
The drive to the venue was a nerve-wracking one, and Clay tried to ease the tension by throwing in random topics of conversation, but it was hard to keep up his side of it, so Apollo was thankful when they finally made it to the parking lot of the venue. After Clay argued with three security guards about parking validity, Apollo gently pushed him inside the building. There were more important things on hand at the moment.
Navigating their way to the backstage, Apollo could hear the sound of the audio engineers getting the stage set up and could hear conversations happening all around him. Slightly overwhelmed, he nearly missed where he was supposed to go until Clay tugged his arm and pointed out a door that had a sign with “The Gavineers” printed on it, along with a logo of the band.
Apollo took a single deep breath, momentarily forgot how to exhale, and pushed open the door. And there, standing in his tall, blond-haired, pretentious glory was Klavier Gavin himself. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Apollo made note that the other band members were nowhere to be seen, but that was the least of his problems.
“Apollo Justice, right?” Klavier asked, voice loud and confident. He knew exactly who Apollo was and Apollo felt as though he was being perceived entirely. He wouldn’t be surprised if Klavier could recite Apollo’s entire life story with just one glance at him.
“That’s me,” he said, thankful that his voice didn’t quiver. Still, he couldn’t look Klavier in the eyes.
Clay, thankfully, took over the conversation. “Hey, I’m Clay Terran, just here to help Apollo and you guys out as needed. I’m the one who handled the inquiry last night.”
Sometimes, when Clay sounds professional like this, Apollo forgets that they grew up together and he had seen Clay through some of his lowest moments in college. Truly, he owed Clay at least a week’s worth of dinners after this (and why did his mind immediately wander to having dinner with Klavier?).
Klavier just nodded at Clay’s words, before turning back to Apollo. “Well, I think it’s time that we practice, get our groove together before the concert, ja?” Without even pausing, he swiftly grabbed the guitar case from Apollo’s hands. “I’ll pass this to the sound engineer, he’ll get you set up. See you on stage.”
Clay and Apollo were both silent as they watched Klavier walk out of the room, still holding Apollo’s guitar case. “How can a man who uses the word groovy be so cool?” Apollo bemoaned, and he sighed as Clay gingerly patted his back.
“I’d say it’ll be alright, but you know I am no good at lying,” Clay said.
Apollo just let out another deep sigh before reluctantly walking out of the room and headed towards the stage. The directions were confusing, but the sound of a guitar tuning gave Apollo a good indication of which staircase to take, and soon he was behind the rest of The Gavinners, looking around at the enormous stadium that was the Tokyo Dome.
His breath caught for a moment as he took in the completely empty stadium, just realizing exactly how many thousands of seats would eventually be filled tonight.
“Herr Forehead, take this,” Apollo heard Klavier’s voice above him and looked up to see Klavier holding Apollo’s guitar to him. “The time to get starstruck is when I am performing, not before then,” he said, moving towards the center of the stage.
The second guitarist moved over to where Apollo was, showing him where the music was placed so that Apollo could pretty easily read it. “We already practiced through the first half, this is just the second half. I’ll be here, so just let me know if you have any problems now.”
Apollo just nodded, and swallowed as he saw Klavier pick up a guitar of his own, stylishly decorated with numerous swirling designs, elaborate and slightly overdramatic, as Apollo felt was befitting of his personality.
Klavier played through a few songs, and Apollo found himself having to work hard to not be distracted by his voice or by his fingers moving quickly over the fretboard, or how his untied hair kept moving with the sway of Klavier’s body. There was no part of Klavier that Apollo couldn’t find himself unable to turn away from, and this was a much larger problem than Apollo was ready to face head-on. Still, he continued playing, changing things as they were suggested by the second guitarist.
Soon, after the quick runthrough, Klavier set down his guitar and turned to face everyone. “Alright, doors are about to open so we have about an hour to prep, ja? Everyone, be backstage five minutes before the next hour.”
Apollo was unsure of where to go and was about to ask the second guitarist, just as Klavier spoke to him. “Herr Forehead, you can come with me.”
Still not entirely sure where this nickname had come from, Apollo followed Klavier as he walked, struggling a bit to keep up with the longer stride. They reached back to the room that they were both in originally, where Apollo found Clay sitting on a stool, typing away on his laptop.
Clay looked up as the two of them entered the room, shutting his laptop and standing up from the stool. “Oh, you’re back!”
Klavier gave a small nod. “If you’d like somewhere to work, we can arrange something,” he said, and Apollo was surprised a bit at the graciousness. It felt a bit out of character, but he also supposed that Klavier was someone who was possessive of their space and was offering more for that reason than anything else.
Clay flushed a bit, shaking his head slightly. “Thanks Mr. Gavin, but I was just waiting for Apollo.”
As Clay moved to leave the room, he whispered to Apollo, “Check your phone,” before slipping out of the room.
“I suppose you should be lucky you can share a room with me,” Klavier said, sitting down at a table in the front of the room with a mirror attached. “But you know, they say that everyone gets lucky at least once in their lifetime.”
Apollo let out a laugh, wincing at the slight squeak that came out. “It really is great to perform with you… I mean, perform with your band!” Apollo hastily corrected himself, not wanting to be caught out.
He moved towards the edge of the room, rummaging through his bag for his phone. Apollo looked up when Klavier spoke once more.
“I feel honored that we met today as well… usually I am not this blown away by a man,” Klavier said, and his voice was so incredibly nonchalant that Apollo couldn’t believe it.
Finally finding his phone, he opened it to a very long text from Clay, which he skimmed as quickly as he could. Most of it was just encouragement that Apollo could totally handle this situation, but he also mentioned that Klavier was absolutely responding to Apollo. Apollo didn’t really understand what Clay meant by that, but turned off the phone to reply to Klavier instead.
“I guess that makes me pretty special then,” Apollo said, sounding a bit unsure of himself. He wasn’t entirely sure where this conversation was going, but unfortunately, the two of them were interrupted by the door opening and two stylists coming in.
Knowing that he wasn’t going to be needed for a little while, Apollo took the stool that had been vacated by Clay and tried not to focus on Klavier and how Klavier, who had already been looking handsome, could somehow look ethereal with just a few small changes. A little makeup applied to highlight the corner of his eyes, his features blurred so his jawline could look sharper, his hair done up in a half ponytail that nearly had Apollo gasp out loud once it was completed.
As Klavier made to leave the room, Apollo realized that the show was nearly about to start; from here, the crowd’s sounds were muffled, as if the only two people in the building were himself and Klavier.
“See you in the second half. Take care your heart isn’t stolen away, ja?” Klavier said, and Apollo felt as though he had developed tunnel vision.
He moved through the motions of preparing, not truly realizing what he was doing. Nearly numb, he was directed to the stage when it was his time to perform, and he could nearly feel how his eyes widened at the side of the audience, yet Apollo could only focus on Klavier.
Klavier, who had changed into a dark purple suit, the pattern of which resembled a galaxy, was truly in his form at this point, enthusiastically leading the crowd on in several songs. Every so often he would turn to look at the rest of them, and at one point, winked in Apollo’s direction as he caught his stare.
Apollo blushed, and at this point, he was entirely blaming Clay for the fact that he was currently standing behind one of the world’s most famous rock stars who was unfortunately, ridiculously good-looking, in front of a crowd that Apollo felt had to be made up of the entire population of Japan.
When the final song had been played, when Apollo finally placed his guitar back on its stand, he moved forward to stand with the rest of the band, to take their bows to the audience. Normally, he stood on the edge, not part of the main group, but without prompting or complaints from the others, Klavier dragged him forward so that Apollo was in-between Klavier and another band member, Apollo’s own slim hand clasped in Klavier’s, both of them with nearly identical calluses on their fingers.
As they walked off the stage, Klavier didn’t say anything for a long moment, then he looked at Apollo. He tilted his head slightly, as if pondering something, before speaking. “Dinner tomorrow, ja? 7 PM, I’ll pick you up. Wear something devastating.” Klavier then walked away, leaving Apollo staring at his retreating back.
“You did absolutely amazing!” Clay cheered as he walked towards Apollo.. Noticing the lack of response, Clay lowered his hands. “What happened?” he asked.
“I think… I was just asked out on a date by Klavier Gavin.”