Ageless

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thoughts or lyrics

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Kane looked at himself in the mirror for what seemed to be the umpteenth time that night, letting out a soundless sigh. Depthless green eyes carefully took in the startlingly seductive image, throbbing with a distinctly masculine appeal that he himself did not believe he was capable of mere hours ago, regardless of what his friends and past girlfriends said.

But there was just one thing that kept bothering him.

It wasn’t the skin-tight leather pants that took him over half an hour to wiggle into, the emerald silk shirt that looked painted on, the chains draped artfully over his form, or the straps that criss-crossed his arms. It wasn’t the ridiculous army-reject-like boots that he personally thought would be overkill for any would-be macho image and could not possibly look good on anyone, despite Jay’s insistence. It wasn’t even the glitter – glitter!! – that sparkled in hair that shone like liquid gold thanks to the gay hairdresser/stylist’s god-knows-what methods that had to do with obscure babble that involved ‘body’, ‘lift’, and ‘controlled dishevelment that looks absolutely scrumptious, darling, with that sexy, just-fucked dishabille’.

No. What really bothered him, what he simply could not ignore for several reasons the least of which was his masculine pride, was the honest-to-gods thrice-be-damned make-up that Jay had coerced – read, shrilly whined until he gave in out of sheer, annoyance-driven desperation – him into wearing.

“Remind me why I’m doing this, again?” He asked aloud, tilting his head back and rolling his eyes up at the ceiling, before looking back at the mirror with a frown.

“Because you love me, of course!”

The frown deepened as Kane turned to look at his long-time friend, dressed much like he was, but with much more flash and less actual clothing. A reluctant smile tugged at his lips at the clearly happy, bubbly-with-good-humor, wide grin that greeted him.

“You mean ‘Lani actually lets you go out in public, naked?” Came the slightly incredulous question, refined eyebrow raised in disbelief at the short jean-shorts that showed off bare legs and the clingy, tattered shirt that just had to be glued on – it couldn’t have held itself together otherwise. “He does know what you’re wearing, or not wearing, yes?”

“Don’t be silly, Kane!” ‘Wynn giggled, baby-blue eyes under a fluffed, brown fringe sparkling with knowing laughter at the undercurrent in his friend’s tone that made the inquiry teasing rather than mocking and sarcastic. “Of course he knows what I’m wearing – and I’m hardly naked!” A sexual tone threaded through the light tenor, completely at odds with the boy’s seemingly innocent exterior. “That’ll come much, much later, when we’re alone, and when we can – mmph!”

Kane looked the very picture of exasperation, even as ‘Wynn tried to pull off the hand covering his mouth. “How many times have I told you to keep me out of your and ‘Lani’s relationship? I’m certainly very happy for you, but I just as certainly do not need first-hand knowledge of what being in a gay relationship is like, thank you very – ow!”

The 6-feet-tall man glared at his shorter friend even as he shook his hand and gingerly blew at the new bite mark that decorated it.

“You deserved it,” ‘Wynn sniffed with an indignant, completely unrepentant toss of his head. “So rude.”

Kane just glared again.

“Anyway,” ‘Wynn bounced again, spinning a few times in place in excitement. “Are you ready to go? Julian called a few minutes ago – he said he was already on his way to pick us up.”

“I changed my mind,” Kane declared, flopping back on a nearby chair and closing his eyes. “I’m not going anymore.”

“What??” Came the horrified gasp. “After all that hard work! Why?!”

One eyelid cracked open to glare pointedly at him. “I hate make-up. I look like a girl.”

“You do not look like a girl! You’re barely even wearing any make-up!” ‘Wynn looked every inch the indignant fashionista. “It’s just a little bit of kohl and some gloss – I didn’t even make you put on eye shadow, or blush, or mascara!”

Blue eyes grew even more indignant at the faintly muttered ‘thank god’ that floated over from the armchair. “Kane Owen Evans!” ‘Wynn cried out. “You had better not waste all my hard work, just so you can sulk over some pathetic excuse over looking like a girl!”

The shuttered face continued to look stubborn.

A full bottom lip quivered, and blue eyes grew teary as ‘Wynn asked in a lowered tone. “Are you really not coming?” Then, in a whisper brimming with sadness and ill-concealed hurt. “You don’t care about me?”

That got Kane up, arms around the smaller boy in less than a few bare seconds. “Don’t cry, ‘Wynn - of course I care about you.” he said in a chiding tone. “Don’t you ever think otherwise.”

“But you don’t want to come… And this is such an important night for Julian, and I want to be there to support him, and I want you to be there to support him with me, and you won’t come!” The brown head bowed down, shoulders shaking in hurt.

Kane sighed. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry ‘Wynn – I didn’t realize how much my coming meant to you.”

Watery blue eyes glared up at him. “You’re my best friend! Of course it means a lot to me that you come!”

The other man winced in guilt. “Okay, okay, I’ll go already – only please don’t cry.”

A sniffle. “You really will come?”

He sighed in defeat. “Yes, I really will come.”

“And you won’t complain about the make-up anymore, and about looking like a girl?”

Another sigh. “No, I promise I won’t complain about the face-paint - ”

“Make-up!”

“ – make-up,” Kane conceded. “or about looking like a girl anymore.” He tilted his head down, trying to peer up at his friend’s face to check if he was still upset. “Now please stop crying?”

The silent pause that hung over the air for a few moments was abruptly broken by the sound of the doorbell.

“Julian’s here!” ‘Wynn’s head shot up, completely free of anything so much as resembling sadness as he grabbed his friend’s hand and raced towards the door. Kane barely had the time to grab his keys and wallet before the front door shut behind him and he was being shoved into the back of ‘Lani’s car.

A few seconds were spent in ‘Wynn and ‘Lani’s enthusiastic evening greeting – with Kane disoriented and trying to get his bearings – before ‘Lani started the car and drove out of the residential complex.

When Kane finally deemed it safe to look forward, he was abruptly faced with ‘Wynn’s beaming smile.

“I forgive you, by the way,” Came the words, followed by a near-blinding grin. Then ‘Wynn was facing forward, cranking up the car’s radio and singing badly in accompaniment to some cheesy pop-romance song.

As the car roared down the freeway, Kane could not shake the nagging feeling that he had been expertly manipulated. Again.

His head thumped back against the car seat, and the exasperation in yet another sigh was lost in the wake of ‘Wynn’s singing.

---0~0~0---

Kane glared into his soda in lieu of glaring at his friends who were grinding into each other somewhere on the crowded dance floor.

Yes, soda. If he was going to sulk because he had been abandoned at the bar with no other instruction than to ‘have fun for now, since they’re still getting ready’, then goddamit he was going to stay sober and sulk.

“What’s wrong, honey?” The bartender came over, a concerned look on her face. “You’ve been turning down every invitation and glaring down at that drink like it murdered your mother.”

“Nothing, Tanya,” Kane rolled his eyes, pointedly ignoring the coy glances of Scantily-Clad Girl Number Nine. “Just bored, and I’m not really in the mood to dance.” Another glare down at the innocent pop. “Not in the mood to drink, either.”

“Then why’d you come down here – oh!” Tanya’s eyes widened in understanding. “You’re here for Detrimentum, right?”

He blinked in confusion. “Detri-what?”

“Detrimentum!” The girl said excitedly. “They’re a new band that just started becoming popular right now. They do a lot of different material, but it’s all original, all good, and the lead singer’s damn hot!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking ab – ” His words were abruptly cut off as all the lights in the club went off, except for a few dimly glowing lamps on some tables and on the bar. Then a spotlight lit the stage, revealing –

- surprisingly dainty, bare feet, with a few ankle bracelets that tinkled, bell-like with every movement. Flowing, white, robe-like pants with subtle gold embroidery that glimmered under the spotlight, highlighting the shimmering layers of gold veils that clothed the torso of the figure standing on the stage, microphone in front. An endless waterfall of black hair that whispered and gleamed like silk, framing a heart-shaped, exquisitely beautiful face of surpassing loveliness.

Kane’s breath caught in his throat as eyelids opened to reveal catlike golden eyes that slanted at the edges, pinning him where he sat at the bar. He could not prevent the chill that ran up his spine at that alien, yet disturbingly, achingly familiar gaze that seemed to break his being down and see through his core at a glance, dimly hearing Tanya’s squeal of eager anticipation – “They’re starting!!” – and hardly registering it, so enrapt at the visual exchange that he almost cried out when the golden gaze blinked and turned away, staring somewhere else in the crowd that was building in front of the stage.

Jealousy bubbled within him Mine mine mine! That gaze belongs to me!, so abruptly that Kane had to stop in complete bewilderment. ‘Mine’? ‘Belong’? Where’d that come from?

He just barely managed to wrench himself out of the confusion quick enough to hear and be thoroughly captured by the deep, throbbing beats and delicate chords of the guitar that opened the first song.

The lead singer started swaying to the music, so delicately and fluidly, so utterly captivating that the first words he sang came almost as a surprise. Then Kane had to lean forward, just had to sit on the edge of his seat as the light, sure tones of a crystal-clear alto voice filled the suddenly completely silent club.


I keep every tear like an ocean
For every day that my fortune
Kept me from being with you

The words wove a story of hardship, of a patient sorrow that was the only remembrance possible – of an endurance so pure and a longing across different fates so clear it resonated at some unnamable place in Kane’s heart and made his breath hitch in empathetic yearning for some unattainable love.


I cradle your faith that reveals me
Grows like a flower then heals me
Fills me with promise anew

Devotion, the words sang, devotion and a simple trust in one’s lover is an unending source of strength, was ample cause to wait in hope for a promise as yet unfulfilled, a promise kept in hope of being fulfilled. The intangible uncertainty that such a trust depended on made tears sting in Kane’s eyes with the understanding of the depth and internal strength needed to cling to that promise.


I carry your worn disillusion
When my pathetic confusion
Kept me from speaking the truth

Regret had added a new dimension to the song, gave it a raw, begging quality that took the words and turned them into testaments to an age-long suffering borne of silence and confession that came too late.


I’m simply a coin in your fountain
Lost like the seconds I’m counting
Till I am closer to you

The desperation in those haunting golden eyes, the knowledge of simply being one among many and the despair that that knowledge inspired darkened the singer’s face, added shadowed hollows that tugged at Kane and made him want to sweep the vocalist into his arms and promise that everything would be alright – that he would make everything alright.


I cherish every morning that found us
With the night scattered around us
Faded and painting me blue

Now that voice, too honest to be angelic and yet too beautiful to be earthly-inspired lightened in pleading, and golden eyes closed as the song did its best to convince and reaffirm a love as true –


I carry your joy in my footsteps
Making my way to your harbor
Don’t need to go any farther
You are my sun and my moon

– as faithful, as needing nothing that that love could not provide.

But then suddenly that golden gaze snapped open, and the guitar quickened in joyful remembrance in accompaniment to the wistful smile on the singer’s face.


Wrapped in your arms where it’s peaceful
Back in your arms where I’m happy
I would do anything gladly
Only to see you again

That smile bloomed, transforming the vocalist’s features into a transcendent beauty of a release that could only be found in being bound to another being on a soul-deep level.


Wrapped in your arms I can wander
Out to the heavens above me
Hearing you say that you love me
Back in your arms where I’m free

The smile lingered on the singer’s face, and once again Kane and the singer’s gazes met. Confusion made his smile turn down slightly at the edges – why did it feel so much as if the singer was singing to him personally?


I keep every phrase barely spoken
That from your lips may have broken free
As you give me your love

The singer turned to face him fully, delicate hands wrapped around the microphone as the glowing figure swayed on the stage, those golden eyes seeming to beg for some sort of reassurance from him. But what?


My yearning is constant and steady
When I’m with you I’m already
Everything I can become

And more importantly – why? It was as if the singer knew him, and was asking for something from him personally… But this was the first time Kane had ever lain eyes on the vocalist… wasn’t it?


I cherish every morning that found us
With the night scattered around us
Faded and painting me blue

I carry your joy in my footsteps
Making my way to your harbor
Don’t need to go any farther
You are my sun and my moon

The knowledge of that pleading for reassurance had somehow changed the song for Kane, instilling within him a sense of uncertainty that was beyond foreign to the normally assured and confident young man.


Wrapped in your arms where it’s peaceful
Back in your arms where I’m happy
I would do anything gladly
Only to see you again

Wrapped in your arms I can wander
Out to the heavens above me
Hearing you say that you love me
Back in your arms where I’m free

But no. Kane was surely imagining things. There was absolutely no way that the singer could have been singing to him – there were dozens of people in the crowd, and who was to say that song was not meant for someone else?

The unreasoning jealousy that that thought inspired made him irritated, along with being uncertain. And although Kane was normally calm and rarely let anything get to him, if there was one thing he hated, it was being unsure of himself. His usual response to such personal disquiet was to ignore the cause or confront it, but since he could not find any rational reason to force a confrontation with someone who was a virtual stranger, ignore the cause it was.

But then that enigmatic smile turned to him, and this time he knew the singer was smiling only for him. Kane’s features hardened, and his hands fisted in growing irritation proportional to his uncertainty.

Then that smile turned to someone else in the crowd, and irritation shoved reason aside, boiling anger raising its fiery head.


Wrapped in your arms where it’s peaceful
Back in your arms where I’m happy
I would do anything gladly
Only to see you again

Wrapped in your arms I can wander
Out to the heavens above me
Hearing you say that you love me
Back in your arms where I’m free

That was it. Kane did not care about his reasons why, whatever they were. He was going to get to the bottom of this, now.

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“Whoo-hoo! Great performance out there tonight, guys!” Detrimentum’s drummer, Miles, grinned fiercely as he opened a can of beer and gulped down half of it in one swallow. Wiping his mouth with a quick swipe of the hand, he raised the beer in exultation, high in adrenaline. “I say we go celebrate!”

“Hear hear!” The twins Chase and Hunter – both guitarists – cheered in favor of the proposal, then started exchanging progressively stronger ‘pats’ on the back that would, eventually, degenerate into a scuffle in the club’s small dressing room.

Miles turned to the lead singer who was quietly sitting in front of the mirror and drinking from a bottle of water. “Hey Davian!” He called out to catch the singer’s attention, waiting until the raven head had tilted upwards in attention. “We’re partying tonight – whaddaya say? Gonna finally join us for once?”

But Davian shook his head, smiling in negation. “No thanks, Miles – I think I’ll just be heading home.”

The drummer’s face darkened in temper. “You never join us! C’mon, Davian – it’s just one night. It’s not gonna kill you to let loose and have a little fun every now and then!”

“I’m tired,” Davian offered by way of explanation. “I wouldn’t be up to partying anyway.”

Miles opened his mouth, ready to argue his point again when Silvian, the other guitarist and Davian’s cousin, shot a dark glare in his direction. Miles subsided with a humph, deciding to ignore the two of them, concentrating on dragging the twins away from each other and out into the club. “Fine, spoilsports,” He called behind him, good humor restored at the sound of the pounding club music. “We’ll just go on ahead then – you be careful going home!”

Silvian raised a hand in acknowledgement, and the door to the dressing room swung shut. Silence reigned for a few moments, and then Davian spoke.

“I saw him tonight, Silvian.”

Brown eyes widened from underneath a fall of silver hair. “You what?” He whispered, breathless with incredulity. “Are you sure - ?”

Davian nodded. “It was him. I’m sure.” Then he sat back, golden eyes staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. “After all this time, I finally found him. He was just sitting at the bar, watching the show. A little anticlimactic, actually.”

Silvian was quiet for a moment. Then, cautiously, “What are you going to do, Davi?” He asked, using a pet name for his cousin he hadn’t used in a very long time, expecting plans, expecting determination, expecting –

“Nothing.”

– anything but that.

“Nothing?!” The guitarist almost yelled. “You spend so many decades looking for him, and now that you find him, you’re not going to do anything?!”

Davian nodded once again, but elaborated when he felt a stare trying to burn a hole through his head. “He’s got a life, Silvian,” he sighed, counting the tiles on the ceiling as if that would help him make sense of his choice. “He seems happy. I can’t interfere with that.”

“But – ” Whatever Silvian was about to say was cut off, silenced by the next few words that came out of his cousin’s mouth.

“I love him too much to risk making him unhappy by doing… anything.” Golden eyes closed, then, heavy with the weight of his decision.

Davian’s cousin remained silent and still for a moment after that, heart aching in sympathy for the singer and his lost love – of a love that would remain lost even after being found. He walked toward Davian, leaning forward to wrap his arms around his cousin in a comforting hug, pressing his form close to the other man’s in a wordless attempt to assuage the other’s pain.

Davian accepted it silently, one hand going up to cling to Silvian, gripping lightly, yet increasingly desperately onto the sleeve of his cousin’s shirt.

The two of them made for a poignant picture. They almost seemed like two halves of a whole – Silvian with his silver hair, intermingling and contrasting beautifully with Davian’s uncompromising black in a physical manifestation of some notion of balance. One comforting, the other comforted. One giving, the other taking. One enduring, the other soothing the difficulty of endurance. They so closely embraced each other, with such ease of familiarity and concern that they could have been mistaken as lovers – such was the clarity and sincerity of their affection for each other.

After a while, Davian stirred, lifting his head. He opened his eyes, mouth parting to speak to Silvian when suddenly the door to the dressing room opened with a resounding ‘wham!’ as it rebounded off the wall.

Then Kane went in, boiling in anger, stopping at the picture he came across.

Davian, head tilted up, mouth parted, golden eyes wide in shock at Kane’s entrance. Silvian, arms wrapped around his cousin, mouth open in equal surprise at the sudden appearance of the young man. The two of them, heads bent so close together that they seemed about to kiss – or had just been kissing.

Green eyes turned flinty in anger and raging jealousy.

Then Silvian’s arms tightened around Davian’s form, and he crouched over the singer in protective concern as he detected the young man’s animosity.

Kane’s temper snapped.

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End Chapter.

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AN: Ok. I did what I promised myself I wouldn't do as an author - start another story in the middle of finishing something else. *sweatdrops* I swear I couldn't help it, though. It's fairly lengthy for one chapter, too, but this idea would not leave me alone until I had written it out, and then only if I had written it just so.

So. Tell me what you think, my dear readers - review! This is a different take on original stories for me, inspired by repeated listenings to Gloria Estefan's 'Hoy' and 'Wrapped'.

However, this story does depend on reader review - if it does not generate enough interest, I will leave it as an interesting story that I will work on only if I have the time (i.e. I will focus on The Meaning of Sanctuary, and will only return to this time to time). I already have the beginnings of a plot, but whether or not this story gets added to my 'regular' writing workload relies on if people do want me to focus on this idea, too.

Hope you enjoyed the story!

Cheers,
Jade Ai.