NIGHTBREED

CHAPTER 1 - Enter the Cage

7th of October 2007, 9.00 pm, Paris

Accompanied by hysterical screams, deafening applause and all kinds of screeching, squeaking, yelling and similar euphorical sounds, the five members of Moi Dix Mois enter the room and with slight difficulty, assisted by a set of bodyguards, they made their way to their respective seats. In front of the long table, covered with a bad imitation of black brocade, a crowd of maybe three hundred people, maybe more, has gathered itself and is presently fighting for spots as close to the iron railing at the table as possible. Mana observes the pushing and pulling with a composed expression, his lips the usual erotic-but-dismissive pout, casually raising his hand, fingers sticking out in the typical gesture of metal artists. Several hands in the crowd raise in the same moment, as if on command. He knows it all too well and does his best to hide the boredom – in time, it has become a routine.

Of course, the concerts he could never live without, nor could he live without composing, without holding and lovingly stroking his guitar every day, without the cascading sound of organ filling his ears, without the energy that, in the moment when he felt it and created it and lived it and breathed it and let it guide him and shared it with others, could shake the Earth if he only tried a little bit harder – or so he thinks. Pleasing the masses when not on stage, though, is an entirely different matter. Mana despises people, fears people and avoids people. Occasionally, he enjoys manipulating people, but he definitely doesn´t enjoy pleasing them in any way. However, it has to be done for the sake of the band.

He leans towards K and that simple movement immediately silences the audience. With a theatrical gesture, he covers his lips with a small gloved hand and whispers: „K, make up something, please, I´m really tired…“ The other man doesn´t let anyone see his annoyance, for he has already learnt his lesson, and is not even slightly surprised. Mana does that to him quite frequently. In fact K could bet his boss secretly enjoys it and hopes that one day, K won´t have anything to say, which will necessarily force him to make a choice between embarrassing himself and embarrassing Mana. The latter, of course, wouldn´t be a wise thing to do, if he wished to stay in the band.

„Mana would like to express his honest thanks for your coming“, K lowers his head a bit to the microphone, „he is very pleased to know that his band has such a lot of devoted fans in France, the country he loves above all.“ This statement is followed by affirmative screaming from the crowd. „You are doing a good job, keep on“, Mana informs him, uttering each syllable veeeery slooowly, like if actually thinking about what he says. „Please, try not to push, we have a whole hour, everyone will receive their autograph“, announces the bassist, „and the day after tomorrow, we will share with you all DIX POWER on the first concert of our European tour!“ More screaming. K exhales slowly, positive that his job is over, but Mana suddenly puts a hand on his shoulder, pressing it lightly. „Do you see the boy there? Don´t you think he looks a bit like Louis, you know, from the Vampire Chronicles?“ K obediently looks in the direction where Mana´s eyes are aimed to, but he is not really interested: firstly, he prefers girls to boys, secondly, he is already preparing a quick statement, mentally cursing his boss for doing this to him. „Mana is especially happy that in Europe, his music is also appreciated by male fans“, he spits out, a warm feeling of payback spreading through his body, „as it is not the case in Japan, or not very often.“ With satisfaction, he notices his boss blink. Only once. That´s actually good, several little blinks and violently fluttering eyelashes could mean real trouble.

Then all of them, entertaining their own thoughts, start giving the first autographs. The four younger men sometimes smile or exchange a few words with this or that fan – Mana, however, only mechanically moves the pen across the paper, his eyes searching out the above mentioned boy in the crowd. It is not difficult, as the young male is towering over the rest of the audience, composed mainly of women, although he would most definitely be taller than many a man, too. In addition, he is wearing latex boots in the cyber-goth style, very high platforms. His mane is beautifully straight as if ironed, not a single hair sticking out, and falls below his shoulders in a black waterfall that has that rare bluish glitter of raven wings. His skin is perfectly snow-white, make-up so invisible that an onlooker would think this is his natural color, except of course no human could posses such a skin tone, the eyes sparkle like green emeralds, though sometimes, from different angles, they appear to be grey clouds with an occasional green or yellow spot, and his mouth - a perfectly shaped, violently red heart.

Mana has never been one for flirting or crushes, much less love on the first sight. The closest thing to ecstasy he has ever experienced is performing; bodily pleasures mean absolutely nothing to him. He had tried, of course, several times, before he decided he preferred not to be touched, undressed, pestered with kisses and other sloppy things, not to smell someone else´s sweat or feel it – god forbid - on his own skin, not to have to get rid of them afterwards, not to be begged or forced to feel something he did not feel, not to question himself why he never felt it. The pairing of two beings might have been a nice thing to watch in movies, but Mana has learnt it is nothing for him, and perhaps this situation is much better that the alternative, as he can devote the entirety of his time to those things he knows best – music, art and fashion – instead of wasting its majority on silly, clumsy attempts on lovemaking. He is not attracted to the French boy, his interest in that little flawless creature is of purely artistic and intellectual kind – he looks at him in the same way he would have observed a well-shaped guitar, an innovative musical piece or a historical artifact of great value.

But there is more than beauty that attracts Mana´s attention. The man is wearing a coat Mana designed, except it doesn´t look exactly the same. The Moitie model was purely black, while this one is made of black brocade with thin crimson veins that imply the texture of marble. Its lapels and cuffs are adorned by small garnets, the bottom of the coat frames blood-red fur. When the boy turns around for a while to whisper with someone standing behind him, Mana notices that the crimson marble-like lines on the back are centered in one place, where they float together to form a perfect rose. This is amazing, he thinks, I have always known that the coat needed something, but I´ve never been able to put my finger on it… Everyone patted me on the back, and yet I knew I had launched unfinished work on the market. And this person…

Before he can finish the thought, the dark haired boy is standing in front of him, flashing two rows of teeth like pearls in a radiant smile. „For Étienne…,“ he demands. Mana reaches into the pile on the table, picks up one of the flyers with a photo of his band and scribbles something that seems to be too long for a simple dedication. He hands it to the handsome frenchie and leans back, hinting he is ready for another fan, but the boy doesn´t seem to want to move. Instead, he starts reading the note half aloud and in the slowest possible pace: Dear Étienne, do you know you stole my artwork? But I forgive you, because you´ve done a better job than I ever could. „Thank you, Mana-sama, for your kindness“, he finally says, kissing the paper and folding it into his pocket. „Please, allow me to say just this one thing: A true artist is not only inspired. A true artist is the one who inspires others. And imitation is the highest form of flattery.“

Mana´s face softens a little as he thinks about those wise words, watching the boy´s head swim on the surface of a lively sea of other heads as he walks away, with uncertain regret.

7th of October 2007, 10.45 pm, streets of Paris

"Did you know there´s a club called L´Arc en Ciel here in Paris?“ chuckles Sugiya. „It´s probably for gay men though“, warns Seth, referring to rainbow as the symbol of homosexual population. The boys are comfortably sprawled in the sofa-like seats of a black limousine, browsing through a set of magazines about nightlife that they found prepared in the back of the car, along with some refreshments. Most of them have not been to the capital of France yet, Hayato has never seen Europe at all, and therefore excitement is on place. K casually opens a bottle of beer with his teeth and passes it around. „On Paris!“ he toasts, and everyone repeats the words – but for Mana. The band leader is no less overjoyed to be able to see the city of his vampire dreams one more time, but he feels the presence of the driver in the front seat, which is why he keeps silence. He never speaks in front of unknown people, and the fact that he can´t see the man behind the steering wheel doesn´t conceal the certainty of him being there, possibly listening.

However, as soon as the small window dividing the driver´s space from their little lounge mechanically closes, Mana immediately relaxes and shoots a reproachful look at K. „Jerk.“ The others glance at each other with confusion. „You are grounded until the end of the tour“, announces Mana menacingly, while K, to everyone’s amusement, pretends to be sniffling. He knows his boss is joking. In the past few years, he has learnt one important thing – even though Mana´s face appears to be carved out of stone, his eyes are very much alive. They are his sole mediator of feelings, Mana begs through them, vails through them, kills through them, laughs through them, adores through them, hates through them, and no one ever notices, because those changes are very subtle. Takeru had learnt to read them long ago, and maybe that was the reason why Mana granted him the title of „his voice“. Now, Mana´s eyes are amused. He has been waiting for this ever since the „Mana likes male fans“ statement.

„And no alcohol in the hotel room“, the leader adds, causing K to produce an extremely loud fake sob. „Mana-sama, you are pushing it!“ Pleased with himself, Mana boosts the punishment. „No girls either.“ K appears to be studying his boots for the longest while, until he lifts his head with the wild expression his face always retorts to when he gets an idea. „So you say I CAN have boys?“ „Takeru!“ exclaims Seth and kicks his friend in the leg. „That“, Mana answers with the tiniest smirk, leaning back into the plush seat, „is something I would genuinely like to see.“ „Maybe you´ll get the chance tomorrow…. in L´Arc en Ciel!!!“ Seth laughs, waving the flyer in front of their noses. „I´m afraid I will have to contain myself with your report. As we only have one night in Paris, not counting this one, I would much rather do this…“

Four pairs of eyes are drawn to the paper Mana is holding, skimming the text placed between and on dark pictures of gothic cathedrals, statues portraying angels and magnificent tombs. Peer into the other side of Paris in the exclusive candle night walking tour. Watch history come alive in the well known as well as hidden streets and sights from Notre Dame to the catacombs. Seldom-told tales of mystery and intrigue lurk in the shadows of the most haunted city of Europe… Starting at 21.30 every first Friday of the month. Your expert guide will make you fall in love with the darkness.

„Mana-sama, you always find the damndest things!“ exclaims Hayato. „First Friday, that is tomorrow…“ Seth ponders aloud, „that could actually be interesting… Hey, how comes we haven´t seen this one?“ „It wasn´t here“, Mana explains, although he could have told them they were simply too concerned with gay bars to actually discover a real gem, „I saw a few of them back in the hall when we were leaving.“ Their sudden excitement makes him feel content, the last ghost tour he went to with friends who were into the same thing dates back to the time of Malice Mizer and although he hated to admit it to himself, he misses this kind of companionship terribly. His current band members are not very different from the previous ones when it comes to interests in the supernatural, yet the artificially created gap between Mana and the rest of the band has been closing only slowly over the years and traces of it can still be seen in forms of cracks in the ground that should be even. In Malice Mizer, there was a sense of certain partnership and cooperation, while in Moi Dix Mois, there is Mana and his employees – that is how he wanted it, and because it was him who set these borders, the others can hardly overcome them without his assistance. Only time slowly makes the edges less sharp and provides rich soil where real friendship can grow, even though rarely watered.