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The more Yuuta learns about the club, the more he seals his lips and insists to himself that he doesn't want to know why his brother started coming in the first place.
Sometimes he sees deals going down in darkened corners, or between customers at the bar. Sometimes he sees hands straying under tables, and people far too uninhibited, even with the number of empty glasses in front of them. Men and women alike, he sees.
He ducks his head down and helps himself to another cup of water from out of the machine in the back. He never drinks anything offered to him from the bar, not after the things he finds himself a spectator of every day. He tells everyone that alcohol is bad for his voice, that he can't do his set effectively while drinking it.
His brother has no such issues with it.
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The more Yuuta learns about the club owner, Yukimura, the less he actually knows. He can't figure out how he could have gotten a job without so much as being glanced at, let alone an interview of some sort. He thinks perhaps his brother got hold of some of Yuuta's mixes for Yukimura to listen to, except, except that Yuuta has never made any discs.
One time, he asks Syuusuke about the third floor, figuring that his brother has been a patron of the club for so long, he must know something.
"You can use the private rooms too, if you just ask nicely," he says, and smiles in a way Yuuta isn't familiar with, and doesn't want to be in the future, either.
One time, he sees his brother and Yukimura sharing drinks, standing at the end of the bar together, talking quietly, and laughing loud. He sees his brother's loose shirt skimming over his stomach, he sees Yukimura's string of keys peeking out from under his jacket, he sees the hand that curls around Yukimura's shoulder when his brother laughs and needs something to hold on to.
Yuuta picks up his headphones with trembling fingers and tests the equipment before his set before his mind can even begin to connect the dots.
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