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Klavier isn’t quite sure what he expected from creating and sharing a playlist with Apollo justice. It’s half a love letter to some of his favorite music (which Apollo happened to like a lot too, to Klavier’s surprise,) and half a love letter to Herr Forehead himself. In the form of some songs written and released under another name, in a different language. 

See, Klavier is legally—contractually—barred from releasing anything involving his public image without explicit consent from his record label. It’s something that didn’t seem like an issue when he was eighteen, signing his own contract for the first time, and he couldn’t imagine ever wanting to leave The Gavinners behind. And before he realized the company would never sign off on anything he suggested. 

It didn’t seem so fine at twenty-four, however. 

So, as any rock star with a law degree would, he requested renegotiation after renegotiation. He poked and prodded and played the fool right up until the contract felt so suffocating it might just strangle him, and finally managed to back himself into a corner. A corner where the air-tight contract gets a little too specific, where loopholes start to form. Right where he’d been trying to go the whole time. 

Klavier Gavin cannot legally release any music or promotional material under his own name, in his first or second languages of English and German, or containing any trademarked Iconography of The Gavinners, without the consent of his management. So it’s convenient he’s pretty good at thinking of stage names and kept the knowledge of his third language under wraps. The old Gavinners imagery had lost its appeal, anyway. 

So. He’d sent Apollo a playlist with quite a few tracks from his favorite small J-rock artist, all with less than one thousand streams each. And conveniently, English and Japanese tend to sound different enough that Apollo didn’t call him out on it. After all, why would Klavier Gavin masquerade as the most poorly promoted indie artist of all time?

Up until the Wright Anything Agency gets a new employee, at least. One with far too good an ear. 

There’s a knock on Klavier’s office door, which has been getting increasingly irritating ever since he upgraded his soundproofing. He calls for the knocker to come in, before remembering they won’t hear him and standing to open the door. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that was you?” Apollo Justice says. He’s gotten a lot worse at remembering a proper greeting ever since they’d started talking more. It’s cute really, like he can’t stand to stumble over small talk about the weather before getting to his actual reason for visiting. 

“I beg your pardon?” Klavier tilts his head.

“On your playlist, Garyuu Kyouya. Why didn’t you tell me that was you?” 

“I don’t believe I’m legally allowed to confirm or deny that,” Apollo raises an eyebrow, before piecing together what Klavier is saying. “But I’m curious, just how did you come to that conclusion?” 

“Athena noticed it. She has, like, freaky good hearing. And we were talking about music so I played some songs off your playlist. And she noticed it sounds just like you.” 

Klavier nods, a bit too rehearsed and a bit too quickly. “Well. That’s your new coworker, yes? She is very astute.” He pauses. “Not that I’m confirming such an accusation.” 

“Just what exactly is in that contract of yours?” Apollo pouts, taking a seat on the corner of Klavier’s subwoofer-desk-whatever. 

“Are you asking in regards to Garyuu Kyouya’s music? Or as a friend in the legal field that can’t resist the allure of contract law?” Klavier takes a few steps toward his filing cabinet. He retrieves one large file, containing multiple iterations of his contract. 

“A friend. Completely unrelated to the previous topic.” 

“Ah, then that, I can disclose!” He flips through the file, ending up on a page covered in highlights and notes. “That’s a copy of my most recently updated arrangement. The ones underneath are rather outdated, but you’re welcome to take a look at them. And my notes.” 

He hands it to Herr Forehead, briefly gesturing to the section regarding the legal rights to his image, and just how much he can’t do with it. Apollo skims it for a while, pausing on every highlight and squinting at Klavier’s annotations in the margins. 

“I see. So you can’t release anything that ties back to your own name?” He has a rather large grimace plastered on his face. 

“I can’t even confirm an association to such a thing. Any music related to Klavier Gavin, Esquire, is ultimately tied to Klavier Gavin, Former Rock Star.” He laughs humorlessly. “Unless, of course, you’d like to become my legal representation in the matter, in which case you’d no longer be able to testify on the subject.” 

“If we’re going by the Better Call Saul playbook, we might as well skip to getting married already.” Apollo laughs, before flushing red. 

“Not a bad idea.” Klavier Laughs. “But I’m perfectly comfortable talking around the subject until you come back with a proper proposal.” 

“I—uh.” Apollo groans, tossing the file to the side and burying his face in his hands. 

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Herr Forehead. That was not my first proposal and I’m sure it won’t be my last.” He takes a seat in his ergonomic office chair, leaning forward to flick a lock of hair from Apollo’s face. 

Apollo grumbles again, lowering his hands. “That’s not it- well, it is a little bit. But, I just, how didn’t I notice? Why did Athena know it right away and I didn’t? I’ve almost known you for a year now, and she only knows you as the guy from Trucy’s CDs.” 

“Well… you did say she has very good hearing, nein? And… no one else noticed either, for the record.” Klavier tries to comfort. “Not that many others are listening to it.” 

Apollo looks up at him, face and ears still bright red. “I guess. But it’s so obvious in hindsight, it’s bugging me.” 

Klavier hums. “My singing voice is different from my speaking voice, richtig ? And I sound a little different in English and Deutsh too.” He emphasizes his point by exaggerating his accent and humming a couple notes for solfège. “The sounds come from a different place in your throat, you know? Surely you’ve noticed the same thing in your chords of steel training, or in that second language you’ve alluded to speaking but still won’t name?” 

“Yeah. I guess so.” 

“And I’m not quite as comfortable in Japanese, I haven’t used it much since I was a kid. It’s like when you get nervous in court, and your voice gets sehr cute.”

Apollo shoots him a glare. “I see your point. You can stop now.” 

“Gut, gut. I don’t want you beating yourself up over something I was keeping a secret on purpose.”

Apollo hums. “Still…” He picks up the file once again. “The Gavinners disbanded, right? Surely you could get out of your contract now?” 

“If I try to get out now, they’ll take it as a sign I’m thinking of starting a solo career and sink their teeth in further.” Klavier leans back. “And we broke up due to… rather unique circumstances. The Gavinners’ contract was voided, but this one doesn’t specify band activities so much as my personal actions within the company.” 

“It’s just so restrictive.” He frowns. Cute. 

“I’m aware; I did put on my best dumb blonde act in order to make it more restrictive. In case it wasn’t clear with how much longer they got with each negotiation.” 

“I noticed, yeah. Although I’m not sure how anyone that knows you would ever think you’re stupid.” 

“Vielen Dank, but it works for me.” He bats his eyelashes. “Regardless, I’m rather content not using my, or The Gavinners’, branding at the moment. I rather enjoy the intimacy of my twelve spotify listeners right now.” 

“I guess that makes sense.” 

“Trust me, Herr Forehead, if I want out of my contract before 2030, you’ll be the first I call for legal representation.” 

“If you’re preemptively hiring me, does that mean you can confirm your relationship to Garyuu Kyouya now?” Apollo smirks.

“I guess so, seeing as you’re my attorney now. Yes, that is me. What else do you wish to know?” He tilts his head, looking at Apollo through his eyelashes. “Would my number one fan like an autograph?” 

“Hm. Maybe later.” Apollo smirks. “First, I want to know when you were planning on showing me you can actually sing so much better than you ever did for the Gavinners.” 

Klavier lets out an affronted gasp.