Work Text:
When Apollo entered the Wright-Edgeworth residence, Phoenix was draped across the couch like he was in a Renaissance painting, only this subject wore Ivy U loungewear.
“Apollo, we can’t thank you enough for stepping in,” Miles said earnestly, adjusting his glasses. “Under normal circumstances, Phoenix wouldn’t miss her prom for the world, but he simply cannot risk exacerbating his back injury.”
Phoenix smiled weakly and lifted his hand in greeting.
“It’s really no problem. I was going to stop by anyway to see Truce off.” Apollo slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Um. Feel better, Mr. Wright.”
“Thanks. I hope the other chaperones don’t give you a hard time…” He mumbled, straining his voice as he grimaced in pain. His husband placed two Pain Killer X pills and a glass of water in his hand.
“Phoenix, I already called to explain the situation,” Miles reassured him, caressing his shoulder. “Try to relax.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice, babe,” Phoenix said as he polished off the glass. Miles hovered at the edge of the couch.
“Apollo, would you like something to drink?” He asked.
“No thank you,” said Apollo, fidgeting on the loveseat. He nodded to Phoenix’s trusty heating pad, which was not an uncommon sight around the office these days. “So, Mr. Wright, what happened this time?”
Phoenix smirked. “I have my husband to thank for this.”
Apollo blinked. “What?”
“W-what!” Miles stammered, glaring at his husband. Phoenix’s smirk grew deeper.
“Oh, well, here goes...I bent down to pick up a package, and that’s what did me in.” He shifted slightly on the couch and let out an exaggerated sigh. “Turns out, it was this limited-edition, 1-of-only-500 exclusive collectible for his insured Steel—”
“T-that’s quite enough!” Miles sputtered. His face had reddened profusely in all of thirty seconds. “Phoenix, I know for a fact you do not want this to happen again, so you must actually practice the physical therapist’s recommendations! But until you fully recover, you need to rest.”
Phoenix looked up at him, the picture of sweetness. “I am resting, dear.”
“Body and mind, dearest. Please stop talking.” Miles pecked a kiss on Phoenix’s temple and stepped into the hallway, leaving Apollo dumbfounded. Their married-people banter was sharper than ever.
“Trucy, are you almost ready?” Miles called.
After some rustling and clattering, Trucy’s voice emerged from behind her bedroom door. “Almost!”
Apollo snickered. “So, you’re almost ‘almost ready?’”
Trucy burst out of her bedroom and threw her arms around him. “Polly! Hey!”
“Hey, Truce!” Apollo said, grinning at her. She was wrapped up in a fluffy, powder-blue bathrobe, and her dark brown hair was pulled back in a stylish updo. One blue eye was half-dusted with glittery silver eyeshadow. “Hurry up and finish your makeup. Unless that’s the look you’re going for…”
She rolled her eyes. “What time are we leaving again?”
“For the millionth time, 6 sharp! This is your prom—shouldn’t you know these things?” Apollo steered her back towards her room and shooed her away. “I’ll gladly leave without you if you’re not ready!”
“I’ll ignore you forever if you dooo!” she said, her voice carrying down the hallway.
Apollo snorted and settled back on the loveseat, mindful to avoid Pess’ dog toys scattered about.
The house was older, and that gave it some character. Apollo liked it. Back in college, he attended a dinner party at his anthropology professor’s house, and this house reminded him of hers. It was cozy, lived-in, filled with an eclectic mix of furniture, plush seating, and well-stocked bookshelves. By the look of the easel nestled near the bay window, Mr. Wright had even taken up painting again.
Pictures from the life the three of them had built together were hung on the walls: Phoenix & Miles’ courthouse wedding, Trucy’s 17th birthday picnic, a family trip to Europe (Apollo didn’t recognize the destination). On the end table near Mr. Wright’s head, there was even a photo of Trucy and Apollo himself from their visit to the aquarium three months ago. Nobody told him that picture would be hanging up around here. Then again, Mr. Wright had a habit of not telling him things.
The doorbell rang.
“Who’s that?” Phoenix asked as he flipped through the TV channels.
“I’m not sure,” Miles replied, rising to answer the door.
Apollo glanced at his hands in his lap. His bracelet winked back at him.
Could it be…?
“Hallo, Herr Chief!”
“Prosecutor Gavin, good evening. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Apollo turned around. He could see Klavier smiling behind Miles, a little taller and a lot more animated.
“I’m here to give Fräulein Trucy a lift to the prom!” Klavier said cheerfully.
“Surely you aren’t talking about the motorcycle.” Miles said sternly. As Klavier crossed the threshold, he lowered his voice to a volume Apollo couldn’t quite catch. He was wearing a dark purple button-down, the top two deliberately undone as always; black leather pants sat low on his hips. It didn’t seem like Klavier had noticed Apollo yet.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
Trucy [5:47 p.m.]: sos
Apollo furtively tapped a sequence of knocks onto Trucy’s bedroom door.
“Come in,” she said quietly.
He nearly tripped over an open shoebox trying to enter Trucy’s bedroom. Magic props were spilling out of the closet, and a clay model of unspecified type sat on her desk, woefully neglected. Her small vanity—a Christmas gift from her dads— was cluttered with makeup and hair products. She sat on the stool and watched him shut the door.
“Truce, what’s wrong?” Apollo asked. She wasn’t crying; that was good. Through untrained eyes, he looked over her hair, makeup, and dress, but couldn’t find anything amiss. “You look nice. Did something happen…?”
“Did you check your phone?”
Apollo’s brows knitted together. “Um, yeah. That’s how I knew you needed me.”
“No, I meant…um, Mom texted me. In the group chat. Do you have it muted or something?”
Apollo was not going to get into that. He pulled up the messages on his phone. “Oh. I see it now.”
Thalassa [5:43 p.m.]: Trucy, have lots of fun at prom. I’m very sorry I couldn’t be there, but I would love to see photos. I’m sure you look beautiful as always.
Thalassa [5:43 p.m.]: How are you both doing? I will be back in LA in two weeks. I hope we can all see each other again soon.
“…It’s nice,” Apollo conceded.
“Yeah. She’s in New York right now, actually… something for work. I forgot what it is.”
“Oh,” Apollo replied, digging his nails into his palm. His bracelet hadn’t moved, but it felt too big and clunky on his wrist.
Mr. Wright and Thalassa told them the truth a little over six months ago, after he’d recovered from the bombing in Courtroom No. 4. That was the last time Trucy cried in front of him. Apollo had cried too, at first. But the longer he sat there, the more he felt the visceral anger and panic rising in his throat, climbing higher and higher until he was yelling, storming out, and slamming the door.
He was trying. Trying to understand Mr. Wright & Thalassa’s actions, trying to fathom the pain she’d faced, trying to have grace. Whatever he was searching for in their newfound relationship didn’t come easily. She and Trucy spoke on the phone. They looked alike. They had lunch sometimes. Thalassa always extended the invitation, but he rarely responded, even when he wanted to. The messages dragged him right back to that day, that seat at the dining table. Sometimes he wondered if those agonizing feelings would ever let him go.
There was no shortage of growing pains as he and Trucy tried to navigate what it all meant for them, but they had grown closer, and for that he was grateful. He was here tonight because he wanted to support his little sister. It’s what brothers do.
“I told her about prom the last time I saw her. She already had this New York thing lined up, but it’s nice she remembered.” Trucy sat on her bed and picked at a speck of glitter on her silver clutch. “I want to answer, but I don’t really know what to say right now. Do you want to see her?”
“…I don’t know, Truce,” Apollo said.
“Okay. That’s okay.” Trucy lay back on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Her legs dangled off the side. “I mean, it’s not like there’s a manual for this or anything. None of us really know the right thing to say…is there even a ‘right thing’ in this situation?…I guess we’re all still trying to figure things out.”
“Right,” Apollo said. His chest tightened as he sat beside her.
She sighed deeply. “This whole thing has just been… a lot. Like, I talk to Mommy sometimes, but it’s not the same kind of relationship my friends have with their moms, obviously.”
Apollo turned to her. Beneath the picture-perfect hair and makeup, she was blinking fast, still concentrating on the ceiling.
“Truce, hey…look, you don’t have to respond right this second—I’m sure she knows you’re going to be busy. Focus on having a great time tonight with your friends, taking pictures, doing what you do best...”
Her eyes flicked over to him, brightening a little. “Magic?”
He snorted. “I knew you’d say that—no, I meant the second thing you do best…‘burning up the dance floor,’ as you always say?”
“Yeah, I guess I do say that a lot.” Trucy covered her face, giggling softly. When she sat up, she laid her head on his shoulder. “Thanks, Polly,” she said, sniffling.
“Anytime. You know I’m here for you.” He nudged her shoulder with his own. “So…do you happen to know what Klavier’s doing here?”
“Huh? Klavier’s here?”
Apollo nodded. “He said he’s picking you up. You don’t know anything about that…?”
Trucy shook her head. “Nope! He’s supposed to be performing tonight, but I don’t know what he’d be doing here.”
“Hm. Weird.” He checked the time on his phone. “You better get out there, Truce. I’m sure your dads are dying to take pictures.”
“Well, you better join ‘em! This look could only be achieved through blood, sweat, and tears, y’know!” Trucy said as she shoved him into the hallway. He quickly slipped off to the side, catching Klavier’s eye from across the living room.
“Okay, everyone! Magical Girl Trucy Wright is ready for prom!” She announced, smiling brightly as she entered.
“Oh, honey, you look beautiful!” Phoenix cried. He’d managed to sit up higher on the couch. “Babe, you have the camera? My cell isn’t cutting it.”
Miles smiled softly from beside Phoenix as he readied his digital camera. “Look over here, Trucy!”
While Trucy’s dads were busy doting on her, Klavier crossed the room.
Apollo wasn’t exactly sure when his crush on Klavier started, but if he had to guess, it’d be somewhere between the conclusion of Vera Misham’s trial and the time Klavier gave him a tour of Themis after Juniper's trial ended. They’d kind of-sort of been friends before, but they started leaning on each other more that year. It grew from simple gestures: an extra coffee here, a funny text there. They started hanging out outside of work.
He and Klavier had been toeing the line between friends and more for some time now. When Apollo let his mind wander, he asked himself the same questions many times.
Could they cross the line?
Should they?
No, they were in a good place now. Safe, at a time when everything else in his life was so fragile. Apollo could be fine with that.
“There you are! Excited to send Trucy off to the dance?” Klavier asked, leaning closer. Tonight’s cologne was amber-forward, a little spicy.
“Oh, I’m doing more than that... Mr. Wright volunteered to chaperone tonight, but because he hurt his back, I’m taking his place.”
Klavier snickered. “Ach! The fun police!”
Apollo crossed his arms. “Were you not the lead singer in a band sponsored by the actual police…?”
“Ja, but we knew how to have fun, Herr Forehead! Maybe you should try it sometime?” Klavier countered, eyes sparkling in amusement.
His brow furrowed. “I was their age once, too! I get it! Look, as long as no one does anything crazy illegal and Trucy has a good time, I’ve done my job.”
Klavier clicked his tongue. “Were you ever seventeen, Herr Forehead? You sure don’t act like it,” he said, flashing a teasing smile.
“Oh, shut up,” Apollo shot back. There was hardly any venom behind it.
“Hi, Klavier!” Trucy said, making her way over to them.
“Fräulein, you look absolutely radiant!” Klavier exclaimed, giving her a twirl. She was wearing a sleeveless chiffon dress in her favorite shade of blue. Her tea-length skirt swished softly as she moved.
“Thanks! So do you! Papa told me you’re here to pick me up…?” She tilted her head, questioning.
Klavier nodded. “Ja, there’s a limo outside with your name on it!”
“No way! That’s so awesome! Thank you-thank you-thank you!” She said, hugging him tightly around the waist.
“Wow…thanks, Klavier,” Apollo said, swept up in the rich scent of his cologne.
Klavier grinned. “Nothing like a fun ride to kick off the night, ja?”
The back of the limo glowed bright purple. A pop-rock playlist, ostensibly Klavier’s and chock-full of catchy bass lines, pumped through the backseat. “Gavinners’ Greatest Hits” must’ve been too on the nose.
“Oooh, there’s a mini bar in here! Can I have a soda, Klavier?” Trucy asked from beside Apollo.
Klavier sat across from them. “Take all the sodas, Fräulein! It is your big night, ja?”
“Thanks! This is seriously the coolest!”
Apollo leaned across the aisle. “Aren’t you used to this?” he asked over the music.
Klavier shrugged and leaned forward. His shirt clung to his lean frame in such a way that the fabric seemed to shimmer under the lights. Apollo agonized over how much his red sweater vest paled in comparison.
“The surroundings may be the same, but the people are different, ja? That’s what really matters to me,” Klavier said, holding eye contact. He had really long eyelashes, especially along the bottom (unless that was the mascara?).
“Oh, um...yeah. I get that,” he replied, averting his eyes. Between the intense atmosphere and Klavier’s palpable sincerity, Apollo felt his face flush.
Klavier leaned back and stretched his arms out on the backrest. Apollo tried really hard not to look at the strip of tan skin that appeared when his shirt lifted. He swore he could see the telltale lines of twin tattoos on his hips.
“W-won’t you be too early for your performance?” Apollo asked. His mouth was dry. Maybe he could take a look at the mini bar, too. “I just thought about it.”
Klavier shook his head. He’d cut his hair a little shorter, recently; it barely grazed his shoulders.
“No such thing for an entertainer, Forehead! I have to make sure setup and breakdown of the set go smoothly, ja? You know how I am.” A playful smile spread across his face. “And the time will pass quickly with you around.”
“I bet you wish that were true in court,” Apollo countered, earning a cute, breathy laugh from across the aisle. Their knees brushed together. Klavier’s legs were way too long.
Apollo glanced over at Trucy, who had stealthily scooted closer to the mini bar. She was singing along to the music with someone on video call. Probably Jinxie.
When he looked back, Klavier was spinning one of his rings around his finger. It was the one in the shape of a lion’s head.
“Can I ask you a question?” He said.
“Go ahead,” Apollo replied. By the tone of Klavier’s voice, “You just did” did not seem like the appropriate response this time.
“Will you save a dance for me tonight?” Klavier asked.
Apollo’s heart leapt into his throat. “Klavier, I…I would, but I’m only a chaperone tonight,” he said, settling his eyes on his lap.
“Doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself, too,” Klavier replied, a note of resignation threaded through his voice. The ring turned a little faster. His nails were painted, but Apollo couldn’t make out the color under the tinted lights.
“I guess you’re right…my dance card’s already full though,” Apollo said, floundering as he watched Klavier’s soft smile briefly falter. “Wait, no! I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Yes, Klavier, yes, I want to dance with you. I will dance with you. I just hope I’m not too busy wrangling these kids.”
Klavier giggled. “‘Wrangling these kids?’ Mein Gott! Say it with me now, Forehead. Fun…”
Apollo pointed at him. “Don’t say it. Don’t even think about it,” he scolded playfully.
“…Police!”
“We’re here!” Trucy said as the limo slowed to a stop. With a wave, she walked towards the hotel, barely making it ten steps before excitedly greeting another girl.
“I suppose this is where we part for now,” Klavier said, guitar case in hand. He and Apollo stood on the sidewalk. The ambient sounds of cars coming and going filled the air. “Save that dance for me, will you?”
Apollo nodded. “I will.”
With a small, almost shy dip of his head, Klavier turned and headed for the side entrance. Apollo stared after him.
Upon checking the time, he wove through the steady stream of students heading inside and followed the winding line to a table with two empty seats. An older woman wearing a black pantsuit stood beside it.
“Um, hi. I’m Apollo Just—"
She tore her eyes away from her clipboard to stare down at him.
“Mr. Justice, yes? I’m Ms. Pill, the assistant principal. You’re late, young man! Not a good first impression.” He instinctively straightened his posture as she gave him a brief once-over. “I’ll have you collect entry tickets, and then at 7:15 sharp, you will move inside to supervise the dance floor. Dinner is served at 7:30. Chaperones get plates, too. Unless you are dealing with an issue, you stay where you’re assigned. Understood?”
Apollo nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t be late!” Ms. Pill snapped. She propped open the double doors leading into the ballroom, and Apollo took a look inside. The banner overhead read: A Night on Mount Olympus!
A pair of elegant Grecian statues stood on either side of the doorway, framing the massive dance floor in the center. The DJ was set up on one side of the dance floor. Round tables draped in clean white tablecloths were placed in the remaining space.
The stage was at the back of the room. Empty for now, but not for long.
Apollo realized he forgot to wish Klavier well for the performance. Not that he needed it, but still.
Apollo [6:21 p.m.]: good luck :)
Prosecutor Klavier Gavin [6:21 p.m.]: danke! =)
Prosecutor Klavier Gavin [6:21 p.m.]: my set starts at 8:30... don’t miss it!!!
“Hey, Antennas! Are you going to sit there smiling at your phone all night or are you actually going to let us in?” said a freckled boy at the front of the line. A few of his cronies chortled behind him.
Apollo could have returned the snark. He could have. But then he caught sight of Trucy further down the line, waving at him. Apollo grabbed the kid’s outstretched ticket and gave his little sister a little wave back.
Three broken heels, two nosebleeds, and one spilled drink later, Apollo breathed a sigh of relief as he leaned against the back wall of the ballroom. Practically every seat was empty. Students crowded around the stage, buzzing with excitement. He never realized how big Trucy’s class was until now.
Klavier had just taken the stage. His electric guitar was slung across his chest; the body was a luminous arctic white. He absently played a series of chords before leaning into the microphone. An eager grin spread across his face. His necklace (a smaller Gavinners pendant? That was new) swung in the air, hypnotic.
“…Senior Class of 2028! My name’s Klavier, and I’m here to give you a night you’ll never forget, so you better be ready to rock! Let me hear you!”
He tipped his head back as he basked in the applause.
“Now, without further ado…achtung, baby!”
Klavier dove straight into “Guilty Love,” rousing raucous cheers from the crowd. Some of the other chaperones bopped their heads along to it. Apollo could practically hear Klavier’s commentary: It didn’t go triple platinum for nothing, ja?
He’d seen him perform before, but this—things were different. It gave Apollo a chance to really see him in his element. The stage was more intimate than what Klavier was probably accustomed to, but that didn’t seem to matter. He was invigorated by the audience’s love for the music. His energy was infectious.
Apollo paid attention to certain things now, like the way Klavier’s fingers deftly slid across the neck of the guitar and raced down the strings. And the way his lips moved as he counted himself in. And the way he flexed his hands around the microphone, the way he sauntered across the stage, the way he moved and breathed as if the music itself coursed through his veins, gave him life—
“Psst!”
Apollo tore his eyes away from the stage, nearly spilling his Shirley Temple in the process. “Trucy! What’re you doing back here?”
Trucy leaned against the wall beside him, thoroughly amused. “What, so awestruck you didn’t hear me coming? I’m glad you finally get the hype!”
Apollo snorted dismissively. He hoped it sounded convincing. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really, Polly? Because I’ve seen you and Klavier making googly eyes at each other aaaall night. You can’t fool me.”
“‘Googly eyes?’ What does that even mean?” He sighed and finished his drink. Klavier was taking a brief intermission. “Anyway. How’s your night going?”
“Great! Everyone loves my dress! I was like, ‘Thanks, my Aunt Franziska got it for me!’” She gently rustled the skirt for emphasis. “But don’t think you can change the subject on me. You should totally tell him how you feel, Polly!”
“Um, should I have feelings to confess, I don’t think I’d do it at my little sister’s high school prom,” He replied, folding his arms across his chest.
“Why not? Worried you’re going to one-up my amaaaazing night?”
Apollo pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to collect his thoughts. “…I’m not here to live out my teen movie dreams, Truce! I agreed to be the responsible adult making sure everyone gets home in one piece, and that includes you.”
“Just because you’re responsible doesn’t mean you can’t be a little spontaneous!” Trucy countered, offering him an encouraging smile. “Would it help if I gave you explicit permission? Or…maybe my blessing?”
“No and no,” Apollo replied, shaking his head. “I think he’s about to start up again, so can we put a pin in this?”
“Oh-kay,” she replied, turning back to the stage.
Klavier ran his tongue over his teeth as he tuned his guitar. When he looked up, his eyes searched the crowd until they found Apollo’s. A gentle smile appeared on Klavier’s face; the cluster of students in front of Apollo squealed in delight. Apollo half-raised his hand in acknowledgment. He could already feel a warm blush creeping in.
“Now, this last song…I’ve never played it for anybody before,” Klavier said, stirring up excited chatter from the crowd. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell. “It’s been sitting with me for a while now, waiting to make its debut. I hope you like it.”
His fingers glided up the mic stand, and he wrapped both hands around the microphone, right over left. His rings glinted silver as they caught the light.
When he started to sing, the crowd grew quiet. Only Klavier knew the lyrics.
Lovesick, will you heal me?
Touch me, plague my mind?
Lost too much, nowhere to turn, I
Think about you all the time
“He should totally release this!” Trucy whispered without taking her eyes offstage.
Always cut right through the noise
Promised you’ll reveal what’s true
Oh, tread upon my heart so soft,
Lead me, let me start anew?
Light me up when stars align
Oh Sun God, keep our fates entwined
Apollo’s stomach dropped.
“Sun God…! Apollo! Apollo, he’s singing about you!” Trucy whispered loudly, frantically swatting his arm. He could barely feel it. He couldn’t muster words.
When you set your eyes on me
Can’t deny pure poetry
The future, no I can’t foresee
Tell me it’s fate, it’s prophecy
(Tell me it’s fate, it’s prophecy)
All along I’ve chased the light
Praying just to hear your call
Oh, don’t you know, I’d die if you
Looked at me now, stayed here at all?
Long for your love, send me a sign
Oh Sun God, heart and voice divine
Aim your arrow, make your mark
Tell me where to stand
Don’t know what I’m meant to do
Without your guiding hand
When you set your eyes on me
Can’t deny pure poetry
The future, no I can’t foresee
Tell me it’s fate, it’s prophecy
(Tell me it’s fate, it’s prophecy)
You’re the only one, so would you let me
Bask in your love, be yours, just maybe
Stay here, golden forever, baby
You’re the only one I want
Yeah, the only one I want
The only one I want
Thunderous applause resounded throughout the ballroom. Klavier smiled. His chest rose and fell a little faster. Apollo’s ears were ringing; he needed to catch his breath. He pushed open the doors and doubled over, clamping his clammy hands over his knees. The cool air in the empty hallway washed over him.
“Are you OK?!” Trucy said, grabbing his arm. “Do you need me to get a-another chaperone?”
“NO!” he shouted. He stood up and rubbed his eyes. “…No. Sorry. I just got kind of…freaked out for a second. Uh…do you really think that song’s about me?”
“Polly, if that’s not a confession, I don’t know what is. And I would know—my dads are lawyers,” she said wryly.
“Trucy, what the hell am I going to do?!” Apollo cried, his voice rising in panic.
“Talk to him, obviously!” She replied, waving her arms. “You guys work together! You can’t avoid him forever!”
“What if it’s not about me?”
“What if it is?!” Trucy yelled. She screwed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. “…You’re Apollo Justice and you’re fine,” she said, watching him carefully.
Older brothers were supposed to be cool under pressure, wellsprings of sage advice. Meanwhile, here he was, panicking about his feelings at her high school dance. He felt about two inches tall.
“Truce, aren’t I supposed to be the one coaching you through this kind of thing?” He said quietly.
She was at eye level in her strappy silver heels. At first, he thought she might cry, which would have made him feel infinitely worse. But she didn’t, and neither did he.
“Polly, when I need you, you’re there for me, just like you said. You need me right now, so let me help you, okay? It’ll make you feel better.”
He nodded, resolute. “…I’m Apollo Justice and I’m fine,” he said, gradually building up the volume. “I’m fine!”
She gripped his shoulders and shook him to attention. “Polly, you’re better than fine!” she squealed, her face breaking into an adoring smile. “Klavier wrote a freakin’ song about you! Do you realize how awesome that is?!”
Apollo nodded slowly. His head was still spinning.
“You should go talk to him, Polly. He’s gotta be offstage right now.”
“Yeah, I…I will.” Apollo said. They headed back into the ballroom. “Don’t miss any more of the night, okay? Go hang out with your friends.”
Before rejoining the dance floor, Trucy looked over her shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. Apollo took a deep breath and wove through the crowd, searching for Klavier when—
“Mr. Justice!” Ms. Pill blocked his path. “This student twisted her ankle. She needs someone to wait with her in the lobby until her guardian picks her up.” She gestured to the girl sitting limply at the table beside her. Streaks of mascara ran down her face.
Apollo’s stomach tightened. “O-okay. I will.”
The girl whimpered in her chair, holding a leaking bag of ice against her left ankle. She told him her name was Melanie.
Her father didn’t come for 20 minutes. Apollo felt every single one of them, but he wasn’t about to add insult to injury. He made light conversation with her, trying to get her mind off the pain. When her father arrived, Apollo opened the car door.
“Urgent Care should be open at this hour,” he advised, casting a sympathetic glance in her direction. “Feel better.”
“T-thank you!” Melanie said between sobs. “Apollo…y-you’re Trucy’s brother, right?”
He nodded.
“You’re really nice. Thank you for staying with me.”
As he jogged back inside, a boy flagged him down because his friend dropped their phone in the toilet (it was beyond saving). After that, he shooed away a trio of kids roughhousing by the dessert table. Then an actual fight broke out in the bathroom, during which Apollo narrowly dodged a stray punch to the face. By the time all of that was dealt with, Apollo could barely suppress the urge to scream into a dinner napkin. The universe was cruel to conspire against a man with an excruciating crush.
He checked his phone for the umpteenth time.
Apollo [9:41 p.m.]: can we talk? i’m near table 9
Apollo [9:41 p.m.]: don’t worry it’s not anything bad
That was thirty-two minutes ago. No answer.
He rounded the corner back to the ballroom and, in his infinite wisdom, decided not to kick the doors in.
“There you are!” said Klavier, his face breaking into an easy smile. “I’ve been looking all over for you! The cell reception is awful in here, ja?”
“Klavier,” Apollo breathed. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you right now.”
“Are they keeping you busy around here?” Klavier said, planting his hands on his hips.
“You don’t know the half of it!” He shouted over the music. “Can we talk?”
Klavier nodded. Something glimmered in his eyes. Anticipation?
“I’m technically not supposed to leave my assignment, so…” In a sudden burst of confidence, Apollo grabbed Klavier’s hand and made a beeline for the photo booth in the corner of the room. He nudged Klavier inside and yanked the curtain shut.
Klavier’s gangly limbs took up most of the space. Their thighs pressing together and the poorly muffled dance music in the background were not helping Apollo organize his thoughts.
“Nice choice,” Klavier blurted out, looking around the booth.
“I try,” Apollo replied. Their faces were mere inches apart, if that. “You wrote that song about me?”
“You’ll have to be more specific,” Klavier said casually. Apollo’s mind went reeling.
“T-the last one!” he stammered.
Klavier nodded, his eyes flitting from Apollo’s eyes to his lips. “Ja, schatzi. For you. All for you,” he murmured, gulping quietly.
Apollo blinked.
“You don’t believe me?” Klavier slipped his hand into his back pocket and produced a neat square of notebook paper, unfolding it to reveal—
“Lyrics?” Apollo said. He gently took the paper from him.
Klavier wove his left arm securely around Apollo’s waist, drawing him closer. Apollo sucked in a breath, watching as Klavier ran his right index finger along the margin of the page.
“Look at the verses. Look at the first letter at the beginning of every line,” Klavier said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Always cut right through the noise
Promised you’ll reveal what’s true
Oh, tread upon my heart so soft,
Lead me, let me start anew?
Light me up when stars align
Oh Sun God, keep our fates entwined
“My…name,” Apollo murmured, curling his fingers tighter around the paper. His hands were trembling. “…You put my name in the song?”
He looked at Klavier wide-eyed, a lump forming in his throat. If he said anything else, he’d probably start crying.
“Now you know,” Klavier said.
Apollo cupped Klavier’s cheek and pressed their lips together.
Klavier let out a pleased little sigh as he leaned into the kiss. He tasted like cinnamon. His left thumb languidly swiped across Apollo’s hip over his shirt.
Whenever he pictured this moment, he always worried about Klavier feeling his heart beat out of his chest, or his sweaty hands, or his chapped lips, or his shaky breath. But here, now, none of that mattered. He wasn’t nervous at all.
When Apollo’s eyes fluttered open, Klavier was studying him in the kind of giddy, breathless glow that could only come from a first kiss.
“You’re so beautiful,” Klavier said, tracing Apollo’s bottom lip with his thumb. The other stayed on his hip, comforting and light.
“Thank you,” Apollo replied weakly, feeling a blush rise into his cheeks. “You…so are you.”
Klavier chuckled and pressed a button on the photo booth. His cologne hung in the air.
“What’re you doing?” Apollo asked, laughing as Klavier pressed soft kisses behind his ear.
“We are in a photo booth, ja?” Klavier turned to the camera and leaned in, grinning into his shoulder. “Smile, schatzi.”
“Ugh, someone’s hogging the booth! We should probably call one of the teachers.”
“Um! That’s not necessary!” Apollo yelped, stepping out of the booth. Two girls were waiting. He snatched up the photo strips.
Trucy furrowed her brow. “Polly?”
“T-Trucy! Ack! Sorry! I—we—”
“Hallo, Fräuleins! Lovely evening, ja?” Klavier said nonchalantly, standing beside Apollo.
Trucy shot him a mischievous smile. “Save the canoodling for later! I want some pictures with my brother!”
Apollo’s cheeks burned. “Canoodling?! Who said—!”
Trucy shoved him back into the photo booth and pressed a button. “C’mon, Polly! Say cheese!”
Apollo begrudgingly smiled for the first picture.
“Are you OK?” she said as the screen counted down again. “You talked to him?”
“Yes and yes,” Apollo replied. They both threw peace signs to the camera.
“Good.” She hooked an arm around him for the third photo.
Apollo looked over at her. “You’re good?”
Trucy framed her face between her hands and smiled at the screen. “Great! I could dance all night!”
She slipped the photo strips into her clutch and rejoined her friends. An acoustic ballad floated through the ballroom.
Klavier extended his hand to Apollo. “Herr Justice, may I have this dance?” He asked, his voice soft and sweet and formal.
Apollo’s eyes darted around the room. Okay, they wouldn’t be the only adults—at least two other couples, one being a pair of married teachers he met earlier in the night, were also dancing.
“You may,” Apollo replied, taking Klavier’s hand. It was warm, calloused from the guitar. Just before Klavier stepped closer, he pressed a gentle kiss onto the back of Apollo’s hand.
They were sewn together smoothly. Klavier’s free arm wrapped around Apollo’s waist. Apollo pressed his other hand onto Klavier’s shoulder.
“Sorry in advance if I step on your feet,” Apollo said sheepishly.
Klavier let out a low, rumbling laugh. “That’s alright, schatzi.”
“What does that mean?” Apollo asked as they swayed to the music. “‘Schatzi.’ You said it earlier, too.”
“Treasure, taken literally. It’s a pet name of sorts, like ‘darling.’” Klavier replied. “Do you like that?”
“Yes,” Apollo said, grasping Klavier’s hand a little tighter. He didn’t recognize the song playing, but Klavier did; he was mouthing the lyrics to himself, humming bits and pieces in Apollo’s ear.
“I never went to prom,” Apollo confessed.
“Hah. Neither did I. Such is life when your band blows up at seventeen, ja?”
“You say that like it’s relatable.” Apollo scoffed, trying uselessly to get his bite back. “But yeah, Clay and I decided to skip ours. The Space Center was hosting an event to watch a meteor shower that same night, so we did that instead.”
“Sounds like fun. I’ve never seen one of those.”
“It was incredible. We had a great time…we always did when we were there.” Apollo sighed wistfully. “I’m really glad I got to do that with him.”
“I’m happy I met him,” Klavier said. “Apollo…you can always talk to me about Clay.”
“Thank you,” Apollo replied, sinking further into his arms. His heart ached. They’d crossed paths a few times, and Clay knew everything about his feelings for Klavier. Apollo wished he could tell him about tonight. He knew exactly what he’d say.
“…Clay told me if I ever kissed you, he’d buy me a whole ice cream cake,” Apollo blurted out.
Klavier chuckled. “Is that so?”
He nodded bashfully, eyes downcast. Why did he even say that? It was kind of silly.
“I can do that for you,” Klavier said, tipping his chin up to meet his eyes. Apollo just about melted.
“And I can show you your first meteor shower,” he said with a grin.
Klavier smiled warmly. His eyes glittered like the night sky. “I’d like that very much.”
The limo ride back to Trucy’s house was markedly quieter. Klavier leaned against Apollo’s side as he mindlessly scrolled through his social media feed. His other hand was laced through his.
Trucy was resting her head on Apollo’s shoulder. Some curls had fallen out of her updo, and her heels were replaced by pink ankle socks.
Apollo couldn’t even dream of sleeping right now, but he could hear her breaths slowing. He leaned forward the tiniest bit, trying to take a peek at her face. She blinked at him.
“Did you have a good time, Truce?” He whispered.
“The best,” she mumbled. “But Daddy was totally right. My feet are killing me.”
Apollo chuckled. “You were totally burning up the dance floor, though.”
She shifted against his shoulder, quiet again. Klavier put his phone away and closed his eyes. The only noise came from the limo cruising across town.
“Polly, I think I figured out what I want to send to Mom, but I want you to see it first. Let me know if you want me to add anything,” Trucy said, handing him her phone.
Apollo read it over. “One thing,” he said.
“Mhm?”
“Tell her I’ll come to lunch with you next time.”
“Really?” she croaked. He knew she wanted to sound more excited, but her voice was totally spent.
“Yes,” he replied. He’d write Thalassa his own message in the morning.
“There’s still a lot we have to figure out…but we have time, right, Polly?” Trucy asked, half-asleep.
“Right,” Apollo agreed. He took out his photos from the night and smiled to himself. Klavier gently squeezed his hand.
Trucy [11:02 p.m.]: Sent 5 images
Trucy [11:02 p.m.]: Hi Mom! Apollo and I are great! Daddy was supposed to chaperone tonight but he hurt his back, so Polly came instead. here we are all dressed up and dapper!!! We had a LOT of fun. I’ll call you tomorrow so we can make plans for lunch! Apollo will be there :)