Gensomaden Saiyuki Fan Fiction ❯ Counterfeit Life ❯ Prologue ( Chapter 1 )

Warning: This story is NC-17 because it contains foul language, explicit sex, and generalized adult themes.

 

This story will also contain YAOI… MAN-ON-MAN SEX… don't like it… fine… just go elsewhere.

 

Disclaimer: I don't own Saiyuki… they belong to Kazuya Minekura, and she is a lucky lucky lady… I do however own the song addiction, and any original characters.

 

Side notes: I'm well aware that the first few chapters need a lot of work, but this story started out as a plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone, and was distracting me from the story I was working on at that time. I started writing it half-heartedly, to be free of the pest once and for all. Unfortunately, I fell in love with this story, and ended up devoting every spare moment to getting to the finish line, so to speak. I have yet to be able to rework the first 2 chapters. I've tried, and failed miserably. Someday that will change, but for now… it is what it is. I just hope you'll give the story a chance.

 

Plot: This story is AU, and takes place in present day New York… Oh and don't be surprised if the characters are OOC, because I decided to create a more emotional side to both of the main characters, to push the story along.

 

Also: This story hasn't been beta read, but I'm fairly anal about revision and spell check and the like, so there should be very few grammatical errors. Hopefully none, but one never knows.

 

Please read and review as I can use all the help I can get. I'd appreciate any suggestions. Anywho, I hope you like it.

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Counterfeit Life

 

Prologue

What is it that they always say? If I only knew then, what I know now…

 

Truer words were never spoken…

 

If I'd known what was to come, when I decided to go for a drive after work that night, and found myself being called towards a night club with a red and black sign… I would have turned around and drove home. If I'd know that stopping for one teeny tiny drink, would change my world… I would've never left work. If I'd know that one passing glance would, in the end, nearly destroy us both… I never would've gotten out of bed.

 

Then again…

 

If I had to do it all over again… without changing a single thing… I know without a shadow of a doubt, that I'd be willing to die for that chance. Regardless of the outcome. I suppose that makes me selfish, but I don't really care. Every second spent with you would be worth the agony of whatever price I'd pay in the end. No matter the method of death I'd have to endure...

 

Whatever it was that drew me there that night, I have no idea, but I'm convinced it was destiny. Fortune, luck, chance… Fate, if you will. Call me a quack… call me a nut… call me whatever you wish, but I've seen fate at work. I can assure you that she doesn't play fair, and she sure as hell doesn't play favorites. A man never spins his own web. All he can ever do is make a bed out of broken glass and lie in it. I can hear what you're thinking… what about free will?

 

Free will is nothing more then the ability to take what fate gave you, and make it ten or even a hundred times worse. I was told once by a psychic that it's no one's destiny to die suddenly and violently. But I find that if free will was a bullet, then man would most certainly be a gun. Fate, however, would always be the trigger. So you see, she owns you. Your life… Your death… and there's not a damn thing you can do about it. So yeah, it's possible that I would've turned my car back around, and driven home, but it wouldn't have changed a damn thing. In the end, I'd still be here waiting… waiting for you.

 

I'd always felt so aimless. Like I was searching. It was as if the entire planet was holding its breath, hoping for that one perfect moment when the sun rises, and everything is dressed in shades of ginger. Then finally, three years ago, all that changed. It never made much sense until today. Until I sat down on that couch, and finally listened. It took me three years to realize that I wasn't searching. I was suspended in that place between asleep and awake, between dream and reality. Hanging onto the edge between life and death…

 

You pulled me back from the precipice, and showed me what it meant to be alive. Showed me what it was like to make the most of each and every minute. Reminded me of what it was to be loved. You blew me away with your strength and determination. You found your dream, and went for it full force. A better man would have learned from your example. I simply followed the path that was presented to me. It may not have been a painless road, but I felt obligated to walk it.

 

It's only in the last few hours that I realize, my only obligation, is to myself. And it is in that one small realization that I see now, why you are a part of me. You lived a life tied to no one but yourself, and I was your opposite. A man who lived in misery, bound to a name he wished he could erase. Doing the unthinkable, you tethered yourself to me, bringing me into the light, and you paid a heavy price.

 

Each and every day you battle fate. Deciding that the life she chose for you just won't do. Then again, she should have known the day you were born, that your life would be your own. That you were one of the few who truly cut their own path, like I'd always hoped I could. Maybe I was too much of a coward, to wander into the unknown. Too acquiescent to step out of the glass box I lived in. Too apprehensive to take even the smallest risk. Too accustomed to affluence to leave my silver platter behind, even though it was nothing more then a pair of high priced hand cuffs.

 

Yet here I sit, a spineless man who took a huge risk. It would seem to be fate at work once again, because the only risk I've ever taken ended in disaster. It's possible that I'm not meant to take risks. Or conceivably, I just took the wrong risk. No… impossible! I refuse to believe that choosing you, finding you… loving you… wasn't the right decision. If it was, I wouldn't feel this way. Today is the first… the first time I've cried in thirteen years. Does that make me a child? Does that make me feeble? Or does it simply mean that I've only suffered two great losses in my lifetime?

 

Hindsight really is twenty-twenty. Whenever we look back at the past, it always seems so crystal clear. Perhaps it's the distance of age, or the growth of experience. Whatever the reason, the things that seemed so trying only 365 days ago, reveal themselves to be of the simplest nature. In my 25 years, however, nothing ever seemed straightforward. But I see now, how uncomplicated things really were. All I had to do was say NO, and move on, regardless of the consequences. Instead, I chose to bend to his will over and over again, and I have no idea why.

 

People born to privileged circumstances are often seen as having everything handed to them. And maybe in my case that's the truth, I never wanted for material things. But I always yearned for more. Things money can't buy. The grass is always greener, right? I would gladly give up the cars, the clothes, and the money, just to be an ordinary man. I'd give up almost everything, not to be my father's son. There's only one thing I would never willingly let go of, and the decision was made for me.

 

My whole life people sought me for the prestige of my name, while the man beneath was always a letdown. But that's not surprising, because I'm a disappointment to everyone, even me. Why? I have no idea. I never could figure out why I just couldn't be exactly what my father wanted me to be, and everyone else expected me to be. I was born to wealth, yes, but why should that have to define who I am?

 

All those questions don't really matter much now, though. I'm too tired of this duplicity to bother trying anymore. Twenty five long years of belittling is enough. I really couldn't care less what you think, because your games, your lies, your need for control, cost me the only thing that's ever mattered to me. So now, it's time for my opinion to matter. I've got an entire life left to live, and this time, it truly will be my own. From now on, I'll make my own path. Both you and Fate be damned!

 

He pulled a silver ring from its box, slid it onto a thin black leather strap, and tied it around his neck. This will be a reminder of my promise, when I want to turn back…

 

He scoured the apartment, found a pencil and some paper, and then made himself comfortable on his black velveteen camel back couch. A series needs a place to start….

 

Why not the beginning, his conscience asked.

 

And that's what he did…