Chapter Text
Chuuya’s a pop star and Dazai is the current Port Mafia boss.
News flash: they used to be together. Keywords: used to be.
Chuuya has lived a couple years in the city after moving from a small town, and one thing he learned along the way was how hard it was to have a heart in the city.
He knows this too well.
After all it’s all he’s ever told himself after his low points after his relationship with a certain mafia boss.
Truthfully, when he moved to the big city with the blinding lights he didn’t even think he was going to make it and would return back home within the months he planned to stay.
How wrong he was back then.
While the city held countless names and faces it was only after his performance at some club did it all start.
Someone important also had attended that club while the redhead stood under the red lighting of the stage as he sang and like a siren to a ship of pirates, they sunk under his song.
The man dressed in black with bandages over his skin asked about the little singer and in turn the redhead’s mind wandered to the mysterious stranger whose eyes never left him.
Now looking back, Chuuya can only sigh looking at the stars recalling the words of a phantom when he was with him.
Words Chuuya now deems lies.
How special he was. How pretty he was. How he was enough.
What beautiful lies they were. Especially from his ex-lovers mouth.
He remembers all the nights they spent after his shows in the clubs, the exclusive offer Dazai gave him to perform for his own clubs, and the sleepless nights that followed after that.
Chuuya remembers being in love with Dazai.
Maybe he still is.
But he knows Dazai isn’t. At least not the love that Chuuya feels.
Chuuya puffs out a smoke leaning on the glass while he tries to seek the night sky for advice when all he hears is the noise of the city at night.
Still, Chuuya wishes he could still see the shooting stars that once fell once upon a night with him .
Back when he was younger and naive to love and romance. Back when he was in love and all he wanted was to sing and be with the man he loved.
Back when he wasn’t a stranger in his own skin. Back when they used to lie in each other’s arms and whisper tiny nothings.
What a life it was. It’s a life that will never truly be over.
If he was nothing more than a boy toy on the bosses arms and eye candy to anyone who risked it, then why did it all feel too real?
Why did he let him in and why did he let him ruin him?
He remembers the nights where it was too real and too much for the boss of a mafia who couldn’t open his heart to something domestic and real .
Chuuya tsks.
It hurts to know but he should have seen it from a mile away. Dazai took and took before he ever gave anything.
He remembers Dazai answering a similar question he asked him once and the answer he got was “But what's the fun of it?”
Chuuya scoffs at the night sky that mocks him of normalcy.
He stares into the distance wondering how Dazai lives with himself in that big lonely mansion in the hills all by himself.
Without him.
It almost gives him chills.