The scratching sound of a pen being dragged across paper filled the quiet office as Phoenix signed his name upon another document. It was, of course, one of a myriad of documents filling up his desk space. They were all from a recent case Phoenix had taken, and he had been toiling at them with little more than the dim light of his desk lamp supporting him for the better half of the evening. Unable to focus his attention on the seemingly endless sheets of white and black in front of him, he let his eyes wonder. They moved first to his ball-point pen, then to a surprisingly less dull plastic box of paper clips, and finally resting on the digital clock sitting at the corner of his desk. The clock glared back at him with bright, red digits that displayed “11:45”. Phoenix glared back at the clock, with the meanest look he could muster. He would not give up! He could not give up! He would get this work done tonight, even if it was the last thing he would do! The clock only glared back at him, keeping its steely gaze until Phoenix could not help but buckle under the pressure.

“Alright! You win. I'll just take a small break,” he yelled to no one in particular, stretching across the back of his office chair with his arms extended behind him. Loosening his necktie Phoenix let out a long sign in an effort to relax his stiff muscles. He decided to get something to drink and return to the paperwork, but even after abandoning his work-cluttered desk and leaving the office, Phoenix could swear that he could feel the red glare of that digital clock burning “11:56” into his back.

Somehow, Phoenix was able to navigate the darkened corridors leading to the apartment over the law offices. Mia's old, two-bedroom apartment was small and a bit cramped, but it was enough to accommodate a defense attorney and two spirit mediums for the time being. Phoenix edged himself along the wall of the hallway in order to keep his barrings in the dark. He was nearing his destination when he noticed that someone had made it there before him. The fading glow of an artificial light creeped its way into the narrow hallway from the doorway of the living area/kitchenette of the apartment. Phoenix was sure it was Maya up watching re-runs of old Steel Samurai episodes again, but person he least expected was sitting in the dim light of a lamp at the living area's table.

“Pearls?”

The tiny spirit medium looked up from the few sheets of paper she was scribbling on, her attention drawn by the lawyer's voice. “Mr. Nick!” she exclaimed in surprise.

“Where's Maya? I was sure she'd still be up,” Phoenix questioned as he looked around the small living area for the acolyte.

“Mystic Maya went to bed a long time ago,” the girl answered, going back to scribbling with her pencil.

This was certainly an odd occurrence for the defense attorney. Pearls was still wide awake while Maya had gone to sleep hours ago? Their roles were completely reversed. Phoenix did not even know that Pearls was capable of staying up past ten. He checked the circular clock hanging up on the wall of the living area, and it read “12:03”. Just what was Pearls doing up so late anyway? Phoenix moved closer to the table, taking interest in the papers she had sprawled out on its smooth, wooden surface. “What are you working on?” he asked curiously.

“Homework,” was the simple reply given by the little spirit medium.

Phoenix had always assumed that Pearls was getting an education back in Kurain Village, but the subject of school had never really come up in conversation before. Taking a little more interest in the current topic, Phoenix could not help but wonder, “What grade are you in, Pearls?”

The girl only looked up from her homework with a puzzled expression on her face. “Gr....ade...?” she questioned, obviously not sure what Phoenix was talking about.

“Home-schooling, then? I guess that's not all that surprising,” Phoenix mused. “Now that I think about it, I don't ever recall seeing you doing homework before.”

“Well, I usually get my homework done when I'm at Kurain, but since I've been here so much lately, I've been falling behind a little....” Pearls explained.

Phoenix could not help but feel responsible for Pearls falling behind, since he was just letting her stay with him and Maya without much thought. “Say, why don't I help you?”

“Really? Are you sure, Mr. Nick? This homework is no laughing matter!” she warned.

Phoenix took a closer look at the contents of Pearls' homework, and found it to contain simple multiplication problems. He was relieved that Pearls was not old enough to be working higher level math. He shuddered at the thought at going through that torture again, especially remembering how he swore off math after graduating from college. Plus, he couldn't look cool if he was struggling just as much as Pearls was. Chuckling to himself he told her, “I think I can handle it.” Taking a seat at the table, he sat Pearls in his lap and helped her find the product of eight times seven.

-----

The clock now read “12:22” .

They finished the homework, but now Pearls was barely able to stay awake. She constantly rubbed at her eyes as if futilely trying to wipe away the Sandman's dust. Phoenix thought that he might as well put Pearls to bed, as he still had homework of his own waiting for him downstairs. However, as he began to stand up, he was interrupted by a sleepy Pearls. “Can't we stay like this for a little while longer?” she pleaded, not wanting to move from her comfortable spot. Phoenix silently complied, and let Pearls snuggle into his chest. Soon enough, the room was filled only by the soft breaths of the girl, and the ticking of the clock on the wall.

That ticking was the sound of the clock screaming at Phoenix to get back to work. Every tick was a hammer slamming into a nail, and every tock was the sound of the nail being driven deeper into his skull. All of that changed when he heard a drowsy voice call out his name.

“Mr. Nick...”

The young spirit medium had called out to Phoenix in her sleep, and upon looking down at the girl's sleeping face, he no longer cared about the clock on the wall berating him. He could not help but smile softly at the girl. Phoenix never had a daughter before, but he was sure that this was what it feels like to be a father.

-----

Maya awoke from her sleep by a certain rumbling in her tummy. Her breakfast time alarm clock – aka: her stomach – was always sure to wake her up on time for food in the morning. She noticed that Pearly's futon was already neat and made up. Did she wake up before her? Still a bit drowsy, Maya slowly walked toward the living area hoping to find a large breakfast waiting for her.

“Nick, is breakfast re--” she began to call out, but stopped upon entering the living area. Pearly was snuggled comfortably in Phoenix's lap, and Phoenix somehow remained in his sitting position, both of them still sleeping peacefully. Maya looked at the clock hanging on the wall and it read “8:15”. She knew that Phoenix should be up by now and thought about waking them up, but she only smiled to herself.

“I think I'll give them a few more minutes.”

A dark room. Silence filled with heated anticipation as the large crowd waits with bated breath. Then suddenly, lights flash from the stage into the sea of people. The screams of fans and groupies overpowered by the screech of a guitar over a giant amplifier. They got what they had been waiting in line hours to get tickets for: the Gavinners Live. The band was giving it all away, and the fans were taking as much as they could.

Trucy and I were among that wild crowd. She was bobbin' her head and swingin' her hips to the tune of "Guilty Love." The guitar caught her in a trance, shaking her body around by the power of music alone.

Well, I was glad that at least she was having a good time, but why'd she have to drag me along with her? I was never good with loud music. I tried my best to muffle the noise with my hands, but they'd might as well have been paper-thin for all the help they were doing.

I looked over at Trucy, who's still in the middle of her dance, and noticed that no matter how much her body moved back and forth, her eyes stayed fix upon the man standing center-stage. There stood the leader of the Gavinners, Klavier Gavin. The prosecutor by day, rock star by night; tight, leather pants wearing guitarist held his instrument like he would hold a woman, and danced his fingers along the length of it's frame. I couldn't help but wonder, Do girls really go for guys like this?

Later, Trucy would tell me, "Yeah, but I'm a girl. I'm supposed to swoon over gods of rock!"

I didn't take her comment seriously at first, but I had to admit Prosecutor Gavin did look a little cool up there. And more than anything, I was jealous of the man that could hold Trucy's gaze.

Little did we know that later that night, that concert would turn into the scene of a murder. However, that's a different story all together.

--------

A couple of days after the trial I'm on my way back to the Wright Anything Agency, and I find myself stopped in front of a guitar shop. As I peer through the storefront's glass into the various racks of miscellaneous guitars, my mind is completely blank. I waltz right inside without a thought in my head. There's music playing in the background, and I recognize it as a tune from the Gavinners' last concert.

I walk along the guitars hanging on the walls, but none of the catch my eye until I come across one of the floor models. A flaming red Flying V already hooked up to an amp just waiting for someone to come along and play it. I throw the strap over my shoulder, and feel the weight of the guitar pull me down. It feels good. It feels... right.

I close my eyes and imagine myself up on stage, rockin' away with my band. Playing over the screams of groupies. And, as I look into that sea of people, I see Trucy staring right back at me, transfixed by my song.

Back in reality, I just smile and shake my head at such adolescent dreams. I'm not in high school anymore. Sure, back then I had such fantasies of rock stardom, and even took the time to learn how to play the guitar, but that was up until I realized I didn't even like really loud music. I check the price tag and know that there's no way I could afford this guitar. For me, such things would only remain as fantasies.

CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!

I'm torn away from my thoughts by the sound of someone clapping. I realize that I wasn't imagining myself playing just a minute ago, but I had actually played that song.

"How surprising. I had no idea that Herr Forehead knew how to play the guitar. A bit unpolished, but not bad for a defense attorney."

"P-Prosecutor Gavin?!"

Somehow, I feel really embarrassed holding his guitar in front of him.

"Please. Outside the courtroom, I'm just Klavier, Herr Forehead," he explained, giving me one of his trademark, rock star smiles.

Yeah, and that's Apollo Justice outside the courtroom, "Klavier." And don't smile at me like that, I'm not one of your groupies. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Hm? Didn't you realize by the name of the store? This is just one of the many guitar shops owned by the Gavinners."

"Really..."

He looks at me like I should be impressed, but I honestly don't care very much.

"The real question is, what are you doing here? Planning on polishing that guitar playing of yours? Maybe for a girl, ja?"

My body goes rigid, and my face flushes. "W-What the hell would make you think that?!"

It's at that point that I realize I've given myself away. Klavier just gives me a knowing smile, and it's obvious he can see right through me.

"How about I give you half off that guitar?"

"What? Really?" I'm genuinely surprised.

"Yeah. I know a good match when I see one." He stares at me like he's analyzing a work of art. He's starting to creep me out a little. "I'll even throw in a couple of lessons by yours truly." He pulls a box off a nearby rack and hands it to me. It reads, "Learn to rock like the Gavinners! With Klavier Gavin!"

A video? Teach me yourself, you lazy bastard!

"Alas, the life of a prosecutor is a very busy one. What do you say, Herr Forehead?"

How could I deny such an offer? Ignoring Klavier's gaze, I buy the guitar, and take it back home with me.

------

For the next couple of months, I practice the guitar in secret, waiting for the right time to show Trucy what I've learned.

------

Eventually, I gather enough confidence to ask her to listen. She agrees and waits patiently for my performance.

At the time, I try to remember that feeling I had back at the guitar shop, but this is way more real. Trucy's sitting right in front of me, listening to me play. Her eyes looking only at me. I can feel myself begin to sweat as I lay my heart and soul out on the strings of that guitar. By the time I'm finished, I'm breathing deeply in and out in exhaustion. Trucy responds to my playing with applause.

"Wow! I didn't know you could play the guitar, Polly! Are you thinking about replacing Daryan in the Gavinners?"

"No, that's not it!"

"Hm?"

Trucy just sits there quietly, waiting for my reasoning, but I can't gather my thoughts, and my mouth won't form the words. I feel like I'm in high school again. Come on, Apollo! You're an adult, aren't you? Out with it!

"I..." ...want you to only have eyes for me.

"I..." ...want to hold you tight.

"I..." ...love you, Trucy.

These were all possible options to feel that silence with, but I can only stammer, "I...I...I..." over and over again until something just clicks in my mind.

"I-I WANNA BE YOUR ROCK STAR!" I yell at the top of my lungs. God damn you, Chords of Steel....

...

Utter silence follows.

What the hell was that? I wanna be your rock star? What does that even mean? You idiot, you messed it all up. See? She's giving you a weird face! You stupid idiot!

"Pfft. Ha ha ha ha."

Trucy starts to laugh. She laughs so hard she has to hold her gut. For some reason, I start to find it funny, too. I laugh. I laugh so hard I start to cry.

-----

After we both settle down, I'm calm enough to tell her my feelings. I tell her about the concert, how I practiced playing the guitar for her, how I wanted her to look at me like she looked at Gavin, how she said girls swoon over gods of rock.

"I did say that, didn't I?" she said, looking a little embarrassed as she remembered. "You know, Polly, I do watch you sometimes. In court, when you're in the middle of a heated trial, I think you look really amazing."

How could I have not noticed? Was I always too busy with the thought of defending my client?

She walks over to me. "You know, some girls do swoon over rock stars, but there are also girls who swoon over lawyers, too." She plants a kiss on my cheek and takes a seat next to me. She's embarrassed. I'm embarrassed. We're both so embarrassed that we can't even look each other in the eye, but I feel so happy. As I take hold of her hand, I realize that I don't need this guitar anymore, and that it will probably end up gathering dust in a corner somewhere.

I may not be a rock star, but I still got the girl.