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06/15/2026
I really thought I'd hate him. I thought I’d see him and hate him. I really thought he’d be a liar. But he isn’t, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that.
06/16/2026
I’m starting to understand how he managed to take down my brother. I think he could take down the world if he wanted to. I hope he never wants to.
06/17/2026
He mesmerises me. I don’t know how he does what he does, but he does it so well.
Klavier’s first trial back after his world tour comes as a loss. It’s not that he has a winning streak that he cares about—he’s only prosecuted two trials, one seven years ago, and one finishing today, and he knows that he’d rather take a fair loss over an unfair win any day. But there’s just something about Apollo Justice that he can’t put his finger on. He’d tried mocking him, leaning over him and patronising him with some comment about the way Apollo had been staring, but he’d just… left. How many people across the world would give up their life savings to be obnoxiously flirted with by Klavier Gavin? How many people would kill to fill the shoes that Apollo Justice walked away in? And it isn’t that Klavier likes being mean—if anything, it had left a horrible taste in his mouth, but he doesn’t blame himself for his display of disdain towards the man who got his brother arrested.
Well, the man who got his brother arrested was Kristoph himself, but without Apollo, his crimes would never have come to light.
And Klavier knows that he was only doing his job, but what does Apollo have that he doesn’t? He’s spent years building up a persona to be loved by strangers, but the one time it matters is the one time he fails; he gets the genuine, sincere impression that Apollo wants nothing to do with him on a level that isn’t entirely professional, and it feels so lonely. Which is stupid. Which is irrational. Which is Kristoph’s voice echoing in Klavier’s head, calling him a fanciful dreamer who needs to get his head out of the clouds.
But it is lonely, bearing this burden all alone. Klavier isn’t stupid, he knows that there’s more to the murder of Shadi Smith than has been revealed, and he has to research alone. He has to sit with the knowledge that his brother is in jail and it still isn’t over, digging up old court records from Kristoph’s rise to the apex of his power in the aftermath of that trial seven years ago, looking for something—for anything— that will either exonerate him or prove to Klavier that he didn’t kill a man with a wine bottle because he got bored of being good. At this point, Klavier would give up everything he holds dear just to find out the reason behind Kristoph’s crimes.
Even though he thinks he already knows it.
He needs proof before his world falls apart.
07/07/2026
He’s coming. It’s official. I invited him to my concert. Don’t know why. Maybe I want him to see the side of me that everyone loves. He can’t be the outlier—he can’t be the only one to hate what he sees.
Maybe he’s already seen enough. Maybe his decision is final.
Maybe he thinks I’m like Kristoph already.
07/08/2026
Maybe I am like Kristoph. Or maybe I caused him to do what he did. It’s like I bring bad luck wherever I go.
07/09/2026
How many times do I have to deny the truth before it comes out? How many times will I believe that I’ve surrounded myself with good people?
Thing is—you don’t find one good person in a bunch of bad ones. You attract what you are. And Apollo Justice is good, and wants nothing to do with me. What does that say about me? Where does that leave me?
07/10/2026
I hate Daryan.
He should have expected it. He should have seen it coming. It’s all been one big joke and he’s the punchline; first his brother, now his bandmate. Klavier can’t possibly fathom a world in which it isn’t his fault. As a child, he’d always got the most attention from their parents, had been proud of his status as the golden child, always wanted to impress even if the most basic of achievements overshadowed the greatest of Kristoph’s in the Gavins’ eyes. And then Daryan, who had been a talented guitarist, as good as Klavier himself, but no amount of praise could change the fact that he was always second best. Of course, it wasn’t just Klavier’s vanity that caused this; the band manager had insisted that Klavier was always front and centre, and Daryan fell behind—because he was taller, because he wasn’t as attractive, because he was the second guitarist and not the first. How could there possibly be any other reason for Kristoph and Daryan’s crimes? Klavier, like a parasite, had lapped up all of the attention and praise, and everyone around him must have resorted to crime just to get their due acclaim.
The guilt is terrible. It’s tearing. It starts in his gut, poisons his heart second, leaves his brain for last so he can fully comprehend the horrors of what he’s done. Because once is a tragedy, but twice is a pattern. There must be some force in the universe that allows him to control the actions of those around him, and yet such a power has been given to the most spineless man in the world—he doesn’t do bad things, he just lets them be done to and around him without batting an eye. What he used to think was keeping the peace is actually the worst crime of all—being a beautiful little wallflower, letting the world burn and go by because it isn’t directly his fault, and although he has indirectly caused everything bad that has happened around him, he still gets to take the moral high ground.
And the moral high ground feels like standing atop Mount Vesuvius just as Pompeii goes to sleep.
10/08/2026
No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no.
10/09/2026
What have I done? What did he do? Oh my god. Oh my god. I can’t even think about it. I can’t breathe. Apollo couldn’t look me in the eye after the trial. What did he see?
Did he see Kristoph, twice mirrored in the courtroom?
Apparently it’s over. It doesn’t feel over. Not for me.
For a week, Klavier doesn’t leave his apartment. Not to go to work, or to grocery shop, or to collect Vongole and sign for her legal ownership. He ignores all incoming phone calls, and only feels guilty when he declines to speak to Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth; everyone else can call until they’re blue in the face, and he feels no shame in not answering.
Apollo visits midway through the second week. He doesn’t take no for an answer when Klavier won’t let him up to his apartment, and Klavier has to admit that finally letting him in would be less annoying than constantly hearing his intercom buzz. Fully expecting to have a quick conversation and then find an excuse to usher Apollo out, he tidies the apartment as best he can in the five minute interim between letting Apollo into the building and hearing his knock on the front door, but the place still looks like a mess.
Still, when he answers the door, it doesn’t seem like Apollo is all too bothered about it.
He’s holding Vongole’s leash, and offers a gentle smile when he enters.
“I thought I’d pick her up for you,” he says. “You can sign the papers whenever.”
“Oh.”
“I… wait, did you not want her? I thought… I was wrong, wasn’t I?”
“Nein, nein. I just wanted a little more time to… sort things out, I suppose.”
“Oh. Oh! I mean, yeah, I get that,” Apollo bends down, petting Vongole on the top of her head. “I can take her for a bit. My cat will kick up a fuss, but she’ll live. Just a few weeks. Until you’re ready.”
“I don’t want to put that on you.”
Apollo waves his hand dismissively. “Eh, it’s nothing,” he says, calmly. “Truth be told, I brought her round because she already trusts me. So I kind of know how to look after her. It’s really no big deal.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Why not? It’s not like it’s a huge favour. I’ll be glad of the company.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Shall we say two weeks? That gives you time to sign the papers and sort out everything you need to have a dog in your place. And, uh, I mean… I’m always around to help, you know. Just, like, if you need someone to stop by and walk her when you’re busy. I can do that.”
“I won’t be negligent. She won’t want for anything.”
“N-No I wasn’t implying… I mean…” Apollo stands up to his full height, which is still a good five inches shorter than Klavier. “I’m just saying that nobody would hold it against you if you needed a little help.”
“I don’t need help. I’m fine. Thanks for bringing her round, but I’ll take it from here.”
“You mean you want her now? I’m really fine with taking her for a few weeks until you get things sorted.”
“I may as well just rip the bandaid off and take her now. Like I said—thanks.”
“O-Oh. Okay. Well, uh, you know where I am if you need anything, right?” Apollo says, backing away towards the door without breaking that characteristic intense eye contact of his.
“Ja.”
When he leaves, Klavier mentally crosses ‘abrupt’ off the list of personalities he’s tried out and hasn’t liked.
As much as he feels guilty for treating Apollo so coldly, he doesn’t regret his decision to take Vongole in. Walking her daily opens up a new routine for him, even on days when he really doesn’t want to leave the house, and he’s grateful for the opportunity to get fresh air.
The thing is, walking often leads to thinking, and when he’s not thinking about Kristoph or Daryan, he’s thinking about Apollo. Always thinking about Apollo, and what he could have done in another life to be worthy of his light.
11/20/2026
I’ve disbanded the Gavinners. Formally. Informally, Daryan ruined everything the moment he decided that smuggling and murder was more important than his friends. But it’s officially over. Everyone crying. News articles loving me or hating me. Pictures of Kristoph everywhere. Conspiracy theories.
Saw Apollo today. He asked how I was doing. Lied—as usual. Think he picked up on it.
He didn’t say anything though. Gave me privacy. Loved him for that.
Klavier has come to expect that once a month, Apollo will visit him with a different excuse. Sometimes it’s a message relayed from Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth to Phoenix Wright, and then to Apollo himself; sometimes it’s because he ‘wants to see Vongole’; sometimes it’s because he was ‘just in the area’.
But Klavier knows that he’s never really in the area. Apollo’s apartment is on the other side of town, and there’s no reason for him to be close to the expensive apartment blocks and overpriced grocery stores unless he’s intentionally going out of his way to visit Klavier. Which Klavier really can’t understand—after all, he’s been nothing but hot and cold with the guy, and he’s tried out so many different personalities to get him to go away and find someone better. When he’s abrupt, Apollo is understanding, and backs off. When he’s overly emotional, Apollo offers a few words of advice that really feel like they come from the heart. When he’s tired, or cranky, or dramatic, Apollo is patient and calm.
And there’s nothing left to do but admit it.
Despite everything, Klavier Gavin is madly in love with Apollo Justice.
10/23/2027
Supposed to be playing Guitar’s Serenade for the first time since Daryan. Don’t want to. Constance asked. Can’t say no to her. Never could.
10/24/2027
Bad luck. It’s me. Lost my brother, lost my best friend, now lost the woman who acted more like a mother to me than my actual one did. Hate that cursed song. Won’t play it ever again.
I saw Apollo today. He looks older. Same as usual, though. Nice in a polite way, kind in a dutiful way. Don’t think he wants much to do with me beyond that. Still love him. Still wish he’d come round more than once a month. I’d rather be nothing to him than an obligation.
Good performance though. I even smiled. Might just have fooled him into thinking I’m okay.
10/25/2027
Watched the trial from the gallery. He does this thing where he blows his hair horns out of his face when they droop down. It’s magnificent.
10/26/2027
Truth came out. Doesn’t hurt this time—glad justice was served. Tried to catch Apollo on the way out of the courthouse but he was busy. Don’t think he even noticed I was in the gallery.
Apollo visits Klavier on the anniversary of the Gavinners breaking up. He brings takeout food, and walks into the apartment without waiting for a formal invitation. When he sets down two plates and brings out a six pack of beer from his backpack, Klavier doesn’t complain; this is actually the most honest he’s ever seen Apollo be. He’s not wearing his usual court attire, and the fact that he’s in sweatpants that could be considered pyjamas is actually very endearing.
Making himself at home on Klavier’s plush sofa, Apollo gestures for him to sit, passing him a beer and a plate of noodles.
“You drink, right?” He says.
“Ja.”
“How are you holding up?”
“Oh, I’m okay.”
“C’mon, Prosecutor Gavin, you know I can tell when people are lying.”
“Klavier. It’s Klavier.”
“Oh,” Apollo says, taking a bite of his food. “Okay. Klavier it is.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure. Shoot.”
“Why do you come around? Every month. I don’t believe you’re conveniently in the area this much.”
“Alright, you’ve got me. I wanted to check in on you. I mean, at first it kinda started because Mr. Wright was worried about you, but he didn’t think you’d appreciate him coming around. I think he thought you’d think he was pitying you. So he sent me, just once or twice. And then I kept coming. I don’t really know why. I guess I just like your company.”
“But I’ve been awful to you.”
“Actually, I don’t think you could be awful if you tried. Sure, you were a bit cold, but that’s expected after everything.”
“I watched your trial,” Klavier says, taking a careful sip of beer. “After… the murder at Themis.”
“You knew her, didn’t you? Constance.”
“She was my teacher.”
“I think she was a bit more than that,” Apollo says. “You looked really shaken up by it all.”
“Well, I do have fond memories of her. She was kind to me when I was at Themis. She believed in me. I think all of her students have similar recollections of being in her class. I’m sad she’s gone, but I’m glad justice was served.”
“It was mostly Athena. She’s surprisingly competent for her age.”
“You helped a lot. It must be nice, having a co-counsel.”
“How do you mean?”
“It gets pretty lonely behind the bench on your own,” Klavier says quietly. “It feels like two against one sometimes.”
“As long as the truth comes out, I don’t think it matters.”
“You’re right. Ja. I tend to get too personally involved with things regarding my job.”
“Well that’s understandable,” Apollo says. If anyone else were to talk with their mouth full, Klavier would find it disgusting, but Apollo makes it look casual and intentional.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. For treating you so badly. And for… y’know… everything last year.”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“It was, in part,” Klavier explains. “I had seven years to notice what you did in a few hours.”
“I didn’t do anything special. Kristoph slipped up by saying the wrong thing. If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have figured anything out.”
“It just makes me think, you know? About how many times Kristoph must have slipped up in front of me, and I didn’t notice. Or pretended not to notice because I didn’t want to confront… everything. How many innocent people have gone to jail because of him?”
“You can’t keep dwelling on that. Just because he’s your brother doesn’t mean you have to bear his sins. The sins of the family aren’t passed down.”
“But what if they are?”
“Then I’m a worse person than you, and you haven’t kicked me out yet,” Apollo winks. “So let’s just put it out of our minds and enjoy a regular night. Like friends do.”
“Ja. Friends. I think I like that.”
12/16/2027
He’s in hospital. Apollo is in hospital. A bomb went off in the courtroom and he ran back in like the stupid idiot he is. Edgeworth says he’s stable but I need to see him. I need to know that he’s going to be okay. He just lost his best friend. I know what that’s like. He lost a good man. I have no idea what to do about that.
When Klavier arrives at the hospital, he lies. He’s midway through explaining to the receptionist that he’s Apollo’s boyfriend, because apparently they’re not letting ‘just friends’ visit, but Trucy runs down the hallway, tackling him into a hug and telling the receptionist that it’s okay, he’s with her.
“Danke,” Klavier says as they walk down the hallway together.
“Oh, it’s nothing! I’m glad you came to see him.”
“Do you think he’ll find it weird? I mean, he said we’re friends, but…”
“Oh, Klavier,” Trucy smiles sadly. “He won’t know. He hasn’t woken up yet.”
Five words. That’s all it takes to shatter Klavier’s heart. And if there was ever any hope of putting the pieces back together, it’s dashed the moment Klavier walks into the hospital room and sees Apollo lying there, bloody and bruised, hooked up to wires keeping him stable. Without knowing what he’s supposed to say, he kneels by the bed and holds Apollo’s hand gently, terrified of hurting him further.
“They said he’s stable, right?” He asks.
“Yeah,” Trucy says, kneeling down next to him and resting her hand on Apollo’s arm. “He’s going to be okay. He just needs a little time.”
Don’t we all?
“That’s good. Did they say anything about… when he’ll wake up?”
“Not yet. But he’s stable. We have to just focus on that.”
“And how are you doing?”
“Oh, me? I’m fine!”
“You sound like him,” Klavier says, realising that he meant to keep that as a private thought.
“He’s like my big-little brother!”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
“Of course he will! He’s Apollo Justice. That’s his whole thing.”
And, when Trucy turns her head away to wipe a single tear, Klavier doesn’t point it out. He knows what it’s like to perform your own emotions for an audience, and the necessity of privacy that comes with that. But she’s just a teenager, only one year younger than he was when he’d ruined her father’s life, and she ends up crying openly. Pulling her into a close hug, Klavier lets her cry into his chest, while the machines keeping Apollo alive beep on, never changing.
12/25/2027
Christmas Day. Not my first without Kristoph or Daryan. Sort of getting used to it. Hate that I’m getting used to it.
Apollo is okay. Thank god. The trial concluded and justice was served, but his best friend won’t come back to life. Wonder if I’ll feel this way the day Daryan dies. Probably not.
Klavier pulls up outside Apollo’s apartment with a bottle of whiskey and the same takeout they’d shared last month. It takes a few attempts at pressing the intercom for Apollo to answer, and when he does, he sounds terrible, certainly not like he’s in the mood for visitors. But Klavier is persistent, and finally, the door to the apartment complex clicks open.
For all the times Apollo has been in Klavier’s penthouse, Klavier has never actually visited Apollo’s apartment before. All he knows is the number, and he makes his way up the stairs to the eighth floor, feeling a little out of breath by the time he gets to the top. When he knocks on Apollo’s door, it takes a few minutes for it to open, and when it does, he sees Apollo in a dirty t-shirt and boxers.
“No offence, but what are you doing here?” Apollo mutters.
“Checking up on you,” Klavier smiles, holding up the food and the whiskey. “It’s about time I returned the favour.”
By sheer dumb luck, Apollo lets Klavier inside. The apartment is nice, even though it’s small and messy, and the traces of cat hair on the furniture actually brighten the place up and give it a real homely feel. There are photographs on the wall—Apollo and Clay as children, Apollo and Clay as teenagers, Apollo at his graduation, a blank space where a frame used to be.
“It’s a nice place you’ve got,” Klavier says, sitting down on the sofa.
“It’s not much. Landlord’s a bitch, too. Pour me a drink, will you?”
Klavier pours two large glasses of whiskey and plates the food up, bringing it over to Apollo and sitting on the floor next to the coffee table. “Merry Christmas,” he says. “Sorry I didn’t bring a gift.”
“Oh, is it Christmas?”
“Yeah. All day.”
Apollo laughs dryly. “I always knew he wouldn’t be here this Christmas. But I thought he’d be here next year.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose your best friend.”
“Yeah you can. Daryan, remember?”
“He wasn’t a real friend. Not like you had. Tell me about Clay?”
“God, just the fact that you asked that would have him losing his mind. He used to love you. Used to beg me to get your autograph and everything.”
“He sounds lovely.”
“He was. He used to get on my case about astrology not being real. One time I told him the earth was flat as a joke and he didn’t speak to me for an hour.”
“And rightfully so. Everyone knows the earth is actually a cube.”
Apollo laughs at that, and then stops himself in his tracks, going silent for a moment before he takes a large swig of whiskey and holds his glass out for a refill, which Klavier dutifully provides. “Can I tell you something?” He says.
“Of course,” Klavier smiles. “Anything.”
“He wasn’t just my best friend. I, uh, dated him for a while. I guess that’s over now.”
“Oh my god. I’m so sorry.”
“It was only ever casual. We didn’t label it properly or anything. It was just… always a little more than best friends.”
“That’s… that’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
“I think I’ll move on. Eventually. Not soon, but one day. But he’ll always be my first love. Life’s a bitch, huh?”
“I’ll drink to that,” Klavier says, raising his glass in a toast. “To Clay.”
“To Clay.”
04/27/2028
Apollo is healing slowly. It’s a lot to process, I get that. But he’s back at work. It’s a bad circumstance. Phoenix Wright is away in Khura’in and Trucy has been arrested for a murder that took place at her show. Poor girl—everyone must know she wouldn’t hurt a fly. But Apollo is defending her, so I have hope.
He hasn’t been visiting anymore, though. Maybe I should make the first move. But maybe it’s too soon. The time needs to be right. I don’t want him to think I’m trying to replace Clay.
04/28/2028
He did it. He found the truth again. God, I love him. I love him.
I really think I love him.
Despite his worries over the timing not being right, Klavier visits Apollo the day after the trial concludes. Whereas last time, they sat and ate and drank and talked, now, the conversation feels forced. Klavier can feel the tension radiating off Apollo, bubbling under the surface like something has seriously unnerved him, but there’s no way that Klavier can ask about it without coming across as intrusive.
As it turns out, he doesn’t need to.
“Can I ask you something?” Apollo says, just as Klavier is putting his shoes on in the hallway, ready to go home after an underwhelming visit.
“Of course.”
“Do you ever, y’know, see Kristoph these days?”
“He’s still refusing my visits.”
“And… how do you cope with that? Knowing that your brother won’t talk to you?”
“It’s alright. I don’t particularly want to talk to him either. There’s nothing I could say that would change what happened.”
“So what do you do when you don’t want to talk to your brother, and he doesn’t want to talk to you, but you can’t keep knowing that he’s out there with a whole existence? Like, he’s going about his life and it doesn’t even matter that you grew up together?”
“Apollo, what happened at that trial?”
“Nothing. I was just… being hypothetical. I’ll see you whenever, alright?”
“Oh. Alright. I’ll see you soon.”
Klavier leaves, and Apollo shuts the door behind him. For such a quiet sound, that little click resonates down the empty hallways, on loop in Klavier’s mind like the final note of a requiem.
05/18/2028
He’s gone to Khura’in. I don’t know the details. Something to do with his father. I’m worried for him—he’s been overworking himself so much lately and it might just kill him. I want him close in case anything happens. Is that selfish?
It’s mine, so it’s probably selfish.
Klavier can’t do anything while he’s this worried. Nobody in the Prosecutor’s Office is telling him anything, but he’s smart enough to figure out that it’s something to do with Nahyuta as much as it is to do with Apollo. Perhaps there’s a whole part of Apollo’s life that he hasn’t shared with Klavier despite calling him his friend. Perhaps that’s not something that Klavier has the right to be upset about.
Even so, he paces around his office until 6pm, when he figures that he’s not going to get any work done and goes home.
05/20/2028
He’s staying. And he didn’t even tell me. I had to hear it from Trucy. I thought I was his friend. I thought I was his friend. I really thought I was his friend. I thought I meant something to him. Oh my god. He’s staying. He might never come back. Is there nothing for him here? Not the Agency, not Trucy, not his friends?
Not me?
It’s a surprise, and not a good one, when Apollo shows up at Klavier’s apartment. For a moment, Klavier thinks that he’s changed his mind, that he’s going to stay after all, but then he sees the suitcase that Apollo is carrying and he knows that he’s only come to say goodbye.
Well, that’s something.
“I, uh, you’ve probably heard,” Apollo says. “About… me leaving. Can I come in?”
“Ja.”
Apollo walks into Klavier’s apartment, leaving his suitcase by the door and kicking off his shoes the way he always used to. He sits on the sofa and spreads his legs, resting his elbows on his knees and looking up at Klavier. “I had to say goodbye.”
“Oh. Well… goodbye.”
“I’m sorry. I know it’s sudden. And I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I will be back.”
“Why are you leaving? I thought you finished the trial?”
“We did. But I… found out some things about my life that I haven’t come to terms with yet. My dad is dead. And the legal system over there needs a defense attorney to set the standard. Klavier, you have to understand. It has to be me.”
“It could be anyone.”
Apollo shakes his head, a little sadly. “No, it can’t. I wish it could. I don’t want to leave again and go back there. I’ve been on the receiving end of that abandonment and it’s not nice. But all I can offer is the promise that I will come back.”
“But I…” Klavier starts, desperately trying to shut himself up. “I don’t want you to go.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“No, I mean… I really don’t want you to go. It’s selfish. It’s really selfish. But I… Apollo, I love you.”
“Please don’t.”
“W-What?”
“Not now. Please. Klavier, I need a friend. I need someone to call when I have five cases back to back and a brother who barely says more than a few words at a time to me. Please. I just… I need a friend. That’s all.”
“Oh. Okay. I… yeah. Friends. We’re friends.”
“Look, I have to go. But I’ll call, okay? You haven’t seen the last of me yet.”
But as the door closes behind him and Klavier lingers to hear the wheels of his suitcase dragging down the hallway, he knows that he very well might have seen the last of Apollo Justice.
06/03/2028
Apollo has been in Khura’in for two weeks. And not one call. He probably just promised me that he would so I didn’t take his rejection too hard. But I wish he would—just once. Just to tell me that me and him are never going to happen. Just this once, I want closure.
06/04/2028
Still nothing.
06/05/2028
Finally. He called, but he didn’t say much about the situation two weeks ago when he rejected me as nicely as he could. We mainly just talked about work. I have cases, he has cases, life goes on. I think he needs a simple friendship right now, so that’s what I’m giving him, even if it’s breaking my heart. Because I love him, I do. And he doesn’t love me back. Maybe one day I’ll be okay with that. Maybe even okay enough to really be his friend. But for now, I’m just pretending. I hope his bracelet can’t tell from so far away.
In the absence of Apollo, Klavier finds that life really does go on, if only in the most basic way possible. He wakes up, he showers, he eats and cleans and gets dressed. He wins cases, he loses them. He watches TV. He goes to a bar. He goes to two bars, and then a club, and stumbles home after making out with a stranger. He hates himself for three days after that. He hates himself for even longer when Apollo doesn’t call. He watches TV. He joins the gym. He doesn’t go. He watches TV. He brushes his teeth. He goes to bed early, he goes to bed late. He leaves the TV on when he goes out. He walks Vongole. He signs up for a dating app and he turns his phone off. He goes to bed. He watches TV. He listens to a song. ‘The funny thing is I would’ve married you if you’d have stuck around.’ He writes the lyrics in his diary. He wakes up, he showers, he eats and cleans and gets dressed.
07/01/2028
We talk at least once a week now. Sometimes he mentions his brother, or his father. I don’t mention mine. I don’t mention a lot about my life. He asks, but I just make something up. He sounded sad when I told him I went on a date with some guy from a dating app. He sounded happy when I told him it didn’t work out. I can’t work him out. I’ve tried. I’m trying. All I do is try.
07/02/2028
He called today. He called yesterday. This ‘once a week’ thing is turning into twice a week. I wish it was more, and I wish it was less.
His voice gets lower when he’s tired.
07/03/2028
We video called today. Three hours! God it was good to see him. I’ve been trying so hard to convince myself that I hate him but I can’t. He did what he needed to do. It’s not his fault that he didn’t need me. But maybe I can give being friends a real shot. It’s better than not having him in my life at all.
09/02/2028
We talk every day. I’ve stopped going on dates. He’s supposed to call me at 5pm. I’ll be waiting.
09/02/2028
He didn’t call. It’s 6pm.
By the time 7pm rolls around, Klavier has to come to terms with the fact that Apollo hasn’t called him, and isn’t going to. It shouldn’t be such a big deal—he’s probably just caught up at work, or struggling with the time difference, but a text would have been welcome. Klavier feels like such a fool, sitting alone in his apartment, wearing makeup and a nice shirt the way he likes to do before calls with Apollo; he’s all dressed up with nowhere to go.
Feeling hurt, and angry, and lonely, he goes through to the bathroom and fills his sink with water. When he dips his face into the cool water, it feels like a welcome shock, and he reemerges only to drag his hands down his face and ruin his carefully applied makeup. There are mascara tracks down his cheeks, flecks of pink eyeshadow merging onto his temples, and smudged lipstick that doesn’t look intentional or chic—it, and he, just look pathetic. The front of his hair is wet, but he doesn’t care; he takes off his nice shirt, replacing it with a torn, old one, and he’s halfway to the kitchen with his sights set on a vodka and coke when there’s a knock on his door.
He doesn’t answer, but the knock comes again. Whoever it is, they obviously don’t have the etiquette of ringing the intercom—they must have waited until someone else entered the apartment complex and slipped in behind them. It’s an honour reserved only for close friends, of which Klavier has none.
When the knocking continues, Klavier purses his lips angrily and goes over to the door. Simultaneously raising his voice to tell the person on the other side to go away, and opening the door, his voice dies in his throat the moment he sees who is standing there.
Apollo Justice.
God, he looks tired. He’s got a suitcase behind him, and his hair is messy, evidently from the fact that he’s been asleep. The bags under his eyes are deep, and he looks up at Klavier with desperation written across his face.
“I came home,” he says.
“W-What?”
“I booked the flight last night. It was supposed to get in at 5pm. It was supposed to be a surprise. But it got delayed.”
“Oh.”
“Can I, uh, come in? Is that alright?”
“Ja, ja,” Klavier opens the door wider. “I’m sorry. Bad host. Not used to guests.”
“That dating app thing didn’t work out too well then?” Apollo chuckles.
“There was never going to be anyone else. Not even for a night.”
“I missed you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Since when?” Klavier asks.
“Since you closed the door behind me on the day I left.”
“Then why did you go?”
“I had work to do,” Apollo says, sitting on the sofa and leaning back with his eyes closed. “So much work. I thought it would never end.”
“But it’s over now?”
“Mostly. I’ll have to go back a couple of times a year just to see how the Justice Law Offices are doing without me, but we hired some new defense attorneys and I’m pretty sure the place can operate in my absence. I wasn’t meant to be there forever. I’ve always known that.”
“So you’re back for good?”
“Hopefully. I’ll have to speak to Mr. Wright about getting my old job back, but Trucy said he never cleared out my desk in the first place. But I wanted to come here the moment I landed. I didn’t want to let you down.”
“I thought you were ghosting me.”
“I’m sorry. There was no signal in the air and then my phone died. I came straight here.”
“It’s fine. You weren’t intentionally ignoring me. It’s okay.”
“I still feel bad,” Apollo says. “I’ve hurt you enough.”
“That’s my problem to deal with,” Klavier joins him on the sofa, and Apollo instantly leans into him.
“No, it isn’t. I should have been kinder to you. You were really honest about your feelings before you left.”
“Just because I told you I loved you doesn’t mean I expected you to love me back. It’s not like that. It’s just a feeling. You’re not obligated to it.”
“And do you still? Love me, I mean.”
“Ja.”
“Even with all your dating app prospects?” Apollo smirks, and Klavier rolls his eyes.
“Their foreheads were too small, anyway. Some people have a height requirement for a partner. I have a forehead requirement.”
“Oh, come off it. I’m trying to be serious here!”
“You started it!”
Apollo laughs. “I guess I did. So you really mean it? You still have feelings for me?”
“Ja. But I can just not talk about them if it makes things weird between us. I know you need a friend. And I want to be that for you.”
“The thing is,” Apollo sits up properly. “I did a lot of thinking in Khura’in. About my dad. Both of them. And I know they loved their wives enough to die for them.”
“Oh?”
“And I thought, is there anyone in the world that I’d do that for?”
“And what was the answer?” Klavier says, subconsciously holding his breath.
“Yeah. A lot of people I’d die for. Probably even a stranger if you caught me on a really bad day. But then I thought… is there anyone that I’d really, really want to live for, instead?”
“And?”
“And it was you, idiot. But it was too awkward to say anything, especially since you seemed to be moving on and going on dates. So I just kept it silent. And then I came back. Because I missed you.”
“I missed you too. More than anything.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” Apollo smiles.
“Go on.”
“You remember that one time you fell asleep on the call with me? We’d talked for hours and you were tired from work and you fell asleep.”
“What about it?”
“I didn’t hang up straight away. I was working on some paperwork and I didn’t really notice at first, but then you started snoring and I looked at the screen and there you were. Rubbing your mascara off in your sleep.”
“That’s embarrassing,” Klavier says. Apollo reaches up and wipes the traces of smudged makeup from his cheek.
“That’s the moment I knew for sure. That I loved you.”
“What, when I looked terrible?”
“You looked like you. You look like you now.”
“And what does Klavier Gavin look like to you?” Klavier questions.
“Beautiful. When your hair is messy and you smile with your teeth and you have those little wrinkles by your eyes.”
“I think you should get your eyes checked.”
“No chance. 20/20 vision, remember?”
“So what do we do now? Where do we go from here?”
“I guess we give it a shot. Dating.”
“Are you going to romance me like a real gentleman?” Klavier smirks.
“I’ll take you to Eldoon’s. That’s the best you’re getting. You sure you still love me?”
“More sure than I’ve ever been.”
Klavier pulls Apollo close into a hug. God, it feels good. It’s been so long since he’s hugged anyone. And Apollo’s arms are so strong and warm, he could stay here forever—he wants to stay here forever. He turns the TV off.
Comfortable silence.
09/03/2028
Apollo and I made things official last night. He came home. He came home! And for me of all people. I’ve never been this happy. I’m so happy. I love him, and I’m so happy, and I love him. Things aren’t always great, but I think that from now on, they might just be fine after all. It’s been years. I thought I’d never be happy again.
Klavier turns the page of his diary, realising that he’s filled the entire book. There’s no room left to write. But that’s okay, because there’s nothing left to say.
He’s got an entire life to live.