Hello, Goodbye (A NewS fic)
Title: Hello, Goodbye
Characters: NewS
Rating: PG?
Pairing: ?
Summary: Sometimes you need to grab the chance. 2nd person POV.
You’ve noticed the slight touches, the small glances when he thinks nobody’s looking, the small gestures he makes that go for the most part, unnoticed. You’ve acknowledged the fact he’s changing-of course he is, who he is to the public and who he is when you’re alone are two very different people. Mostly the same, but different. You’ve noticed the way he hints and teases cheerfully, innocently, and howhe crumbles for a second before recovering as they’re ignored. Silently you praise him for his impeccable acting, so very convincing to those not considered good friends. It’s fooled everyone, surprising really as you’re often considered the oblivious one. Even your leader is fooled which really surprised you. A brilliant actor he is, yet this is one play he can’t understand. And him-he hasn’t noticed anything.
There are times you want to hug him and times you feel like screaming at them both. You sometimes wish he’d just give up and stop hurting himself because when he hurts you hurt too, it hurts to see a friend in so much pain and it frustrates you. But you won’t intervene because it’s not your business no matter how much it was, and its up to him to tell you. You want to scream at him for being so damn hung-up and stubborn. You can tell he’s noticed, he’s not the brilliant actor he makes himself out to be. While the group dynamics are the same their relationship is not. The little hints are brushed off, the teasing ignored, the small touches, glances very much ignored-but not totally. He’s confused, stuck. He doesn’t know what to do. You wish he’d make up his mind and focus on the present and stop hurting your friend-but you understand where he’s coming from. The world is but a stage and they are merely players and you are not God. You can’t write out their future. Even if it was to happen, you can’t make the rest of the world accept such a relationship.
The birthday party had been meticulously planned to the very last detail. Everyone was there, and it was all good. The music was just right for dancing, there was a karaoke box set up in the corner of the huge room (hogged most of the night by Arashi and Kanjani8), balloons and streamers scattered everywhere, kaleidoscope colours. He’d been planning it for a month, you knew as you’d helped. You’d been sent off 2 months ago to book a cake- “Chocolate, but not the dark type, he doesn’t like dark, oh! No cream, just plain sugar icing; make sure it’s not too sweet!! Oh, oh, don’t forget to write ‘Happy Birthday!’…make sure there’s a big candle and don’t get the trick ones Pi likes, it’ll make him mad and I want him happy, it’s his special day! Quick, go! Go! The shop opens in an hour!” - That has been thoroughly devoured by Kawai Fumito, Pi, and Akanishi (who has been getting fat no matter what he says). You watched the way he watched him, making sure he was happy, checking everything was perfect. It was both sickening and sad the way he doted on him, pathetic and pitiful as you watched his face fall after he left the room not too long after, no parting words of thanks.
You comforted him as he sobbed into your shirt, the putrid smell of sex, cigarettes and alcohol soaking into your clothes, patting his head and whispering small words. The marks on his neck, his back. The scar in his mind, never mind the hole in the heart. It was all you could do then, to sit, talk and comfort him and heal his wounded heart. If you could, you would’ve beaten the hell of the bastard but that would only serve to pain him more. You had to give him credit-he was a very good actor. Nobody noticed anything wrong, just your little circle of three. You tried confronting him one night after you followed him home, waited and watching as he drunk himself sick in a sleazy bar in open view of the public (thank god the paparazzi wasn’t there). He’d pushed you away, told you to shove off and vomited in the alleyway. You told him he was a sadistic bastard who deserved nothing, especially not his love. You felt quite proud of yourself as you walked away that night, the sounds of him punching the wall until his knuckles were raw and red echoing behind you.
He still came to you and poured his heart out, but those times grew few as he picked up the pieces of himself and sewed them back together. This was what you liked about him, that unfailing optimism. He noticed it too, tried reaching out with small gestures, apologies, looks. This time it was reversed, as he ignored him. You watched as one turned to another just as the other realized his mistake. You shook your head and sighed at how the play has changed and wondered whether there was really someone up there pulling the strings, or whether you were all jumbled in a sack like marbles, hitting and rolling off one another.
Now his beautiful smile is back in full force, the shadows on his face and behaviour have vanished, he positively glows. As Tegoshi waves goodbye and links his arms with Yamapi (who’s been fawning over him for about a month now), you turn to stare at the figure curled up on the couch. You see the marks on the sofa where he’s been ripping out the stuffing, the tears that stain the material. His eyes have bags and his hair is mussed and oily but nobody notices. Except you three. For someone so quick with insults and so charming to the world, Ryo is slow in reality. And it is reality that counts.
A/N: Ok...first angst type one-shot I’ve written. In case you didn’t get whose POV it was, it was Massu (dear little Massu). And Ryo was hung-up about Uchi.