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This was the first time Apollo had ever been to Klavier’s house. There were a few times that for whatever reason, Klavier had to come to his apartment, but very rarely did it go the other way. He had no reason to be, but he was kinda nervous.
From the moment he approached the gate, he had a feeling he knew the reason. It made sense as to why he lived in a gated community. Klavier was stupidly famous, even after he disbanded the Gavinners. This was a matter of being able to be at home without getting bothered by the masses. Apollo should be happy that he didn’t have to go to a private island by yacht sent to pick him up.
No matter if it was a security guard at the gate, or the captain of the yacht, Apollo knew in his heart that they were only going to recognize him as “the forehead boy”. Which shouldn't be how they know him.
His forehead was the regular size, thank you very much.
But awkward encounters with the staff aside, he could continue on his way, and try not to think about all the cars parked on the street that were no doubt more expensive than rent for every apartment in his building for a year. If he didn’t acknowledge them, they couldn’t hurt him.
That was a lie. He was going to have to acknowledge them. If he didn’t, he was going to hit one of them, and he’d hurt himself. And then he was going to have to pay for any “damages” to the car, which would mean living his left in crippling debt.
He was going to go to Klavier’s house as soon as he could. He needed to get out of here, because it was stressful and he could feel the eyes of people staring at him through their windows. Not that he checked, he was too busy paying close attention to everything else, as to not accidentally incur a penalty that would destroy him financially for years to come.
Before he went up to Klavier’s house, he triple checked the address. There was no way he was going to knock on the wrong door and piss some wealthy businessman off. Mr. Wright and Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth might’ve been working to fix the system, but there were still lots of things that were going to take some time to fix. Apollo didn’t want to be defending himself in a trial with a predetermined ruling against him.
He held his breath as he approached the door. According to the text this was the right place, but what if Klavier got the numbers wrong? It would’ve been nothing to Klavier, but what about Apollo? He hadn’t thought about Apollo once in this apart from getting him in past the gate.
A quick “I’m outside your house” text would be better than knocking. Just in case this wasn’t actually Klavier’s house and he’s standing in front of the completely wrong house like an idiot.
But it wasn’t too long before the door opened, and Apollo’s heart jumped to his throat.
Klavier leaned lazily against the doorframe, his normally neatly twirled hair hung loosely around his shoulders. His expression was like something you’d see in a commercial for something like perfume or... something.
Not implying he looked like he smelled good (he did, and he smelled kinda flowery, but like a gentle flowery and like the right amount), but the way he looked was more like the artsy way perfume commercials are. Like how when you’re forced to watch them and you have no idea what they’re trying to sell you because they’re so artsy and you’re absolutely lost until the bottle shows up at the end and then it all makes sense because never once has a perfume commercial ever made sense.
“I see I’m not the only one who has a hard time in the mornings, ja Herr Forehead?” Klavier teased, leaning forward and letting his hair brush his exposed shoulders.
Apollo wasn’t sure how shoulders of all things were responsible for making him short circuit. As far as he was aware, he wasn’t some puritanical Victorian Gentleman. Shoulders weren’t even a lewd part of the body. Apollo had seen them, and he had shown them, and it wasn’t an issue. How the hell could Klavier make shoulders a beautiful person thing?? That shouldn’t be allowed!!
“How cruel it is they have you doing all this foot work on what should be your day off,” Klavier leaned against the doorframe more. “Can I at least get you some coffee before I send you off on your way with your documents?”
“YEAH!” he awkwardly squawked. “I mean. Yeah, coffee sounds good. I like coffee.”
Klavier chuckled, and Apollo couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad thing. That usually wasn’t a good sign of things to come.
“Then let’s get some brewing,” with a cheeky smirk, Klavier stood back up and turned to go back into his house. His hair now looking like something out of a shampoo commercial.
Apollo grumbled as he entered the house, because this had to be something he was doing on purpose.
Like he was bragging or something, and honestly it was kinda a dick move. Everyone knew Klavier was pretty, and while Apollo was by all accounts a really handsome man, he wasn’t anywhere near as good looking. Klavier was just making sure that he knew. That had to be it.
But as he was walking in, Apollo noticed something on Klavier’s shoulder. A very familiar G, and a poorly drawn shark chomping down on it, and it sat right on his shoulder blade. It had faded, but it was still there.
“What’s with the tattoo?”
Klavier stopped. His long graceful steps had brought him farther than Apollo’s normal person steps, but he still almost bumped into him. Looking carefully, he could see Klavier playing with his bangs.
“Tattoo? I have no idea what you’re talking about?”
“No you definitely do. What’s the deal with it? It’s a shark eating your logo.”
There was silence, and Klavier was clearly weighing the pros and cons of the situation.
Having decided, he started walking again. “When Daryan did it when we were kids he said it wasn’t permanent. In his defense, he didn’t know it was either…”
“And you never covered it up?”
“My life has been too busy to deal with a tattoo healing. Besides, what am I supposed to cover that with, Herr Smartypants?”
“I dunno. Literally anything else?”
Klavier turned on his heel, and walked down the hallway. Apollo blinked and followed after. Was the kitchen not that way? Pretty weird that he turned so suddenly on his foot like that.
He opened a door, and walked into a room very similar to his office at the prosecutor’s office, except instead of a big window, he had an intimidating wall of awards for all the platinum albums he had. Strangely enough there wasn’t a single coffee maker in here, so Apollo had no idea why Klavier brought him here, except maybe to brag? Klavier was one more to show off, but never outright brag like this. It felt forced and weird.
His brow unfurrowed and his eyes blinked wide as a folder was put into his hand. He stared at it dumbly, as he tried to connect the dots between this and the room he was in now.
“That would be what you came here for, ja?” Klavier asked, now turned around so Apollo could see the pout on his lips.
To think he was lost before…
How was he supposed to make sense of being offered coffee, being brought into a recording studio in someone’s house, then getting handed something?
“I… What?”
“Frau Detective sent you for these documents, ja? I’m letting you borrow them. I will be needing them back later.”
Right… the documents. Apollo had forgotten about those entirely. He was too busy gawking at exposed shoulders and forgot all about the case.
“What about the coffee?” he asked, seeing as that’s why he was invited inside.
“Rude little attorneys don’t get coffee after they poke fun of my teenage mistakes,” Klavier said, leaning forwards to flick his bangs.
“I think you mean stick and poke,”
Klavier frowned as if they were backstage at the concert again and he thought Apollo set him on fire.
“Yeah sorry, thanks for the documents,”
“The pleasure is mine, now you should be off investigating, ja?”
Apollo fully took the opportunity to flee. He knows better than to stick around and make a bigger ass of himself.
“ Ja! - I mean, Yeah! - I mean-” he interrupted himself with a groan, as he continued to make an ass of himself. He’ll turn and head back down the hall. “Bye, I’ll see you later…”
And hopefully by then, he’ll get a shot at looking cool for once.