Title: Patches and Stitches
Rating: T (for safety)
Summary: With not much detemination in her career, Aria goes off for a breather from tailoring, only to be involved in a mild accident. To make up for her mistake, she takes in the reluctant Oliver, hoping to design a great attire with his temporary assistance.
Notes: A lot of characters will appear in this fanfic, along with personal preferences in pairings. Story may feature utter weirdness, due to my attempt in being witty. You've been warned.
Disclaimer: Vocaloid does not belong to me, and it never will. I've gotten over it a long time ago.
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Sitting behind the desk, I looked over what was probably my greatest challenge ever.
"Stupid buttons. Why do I have to put you on, dang it?" With needle in hand, I slumped over the desk, holding the floral patterned cloth over my head. The buttons I had used scattered down to the floor.
"Aria…" The voice of a thousand demons spoke up from behind me. From the chill coming down on my back, I could speak as a living testament that the voice alone can make turn one into ice. "Quit goofing around and get to work."
Instead of wisely keeping my mouth shut, I spoke back, "It's not like work will be getting away from me anytime soon. Besides I don't you doing anything."
Those comments earned me a fist to the head from my boss, Zenyora Prima. Really, she's a nice person until you peeve her off, which I tend to do a lot. I don't know why. Something about her just makes me want to do that. I may have to think about putting an end to that habit, else I'll wake up in the hospital, probably with amnesia or head trauma.
After putting everything back in place, I got up from my seat.
"Where do you think you're going?" Prima immediately demanded from her seat in the back.
"Gonna check the catalogs for any ideas. I'm hitting a stump here."
"Just please don't end up copying something from the book like the last imbecile we hired."
"You know I won't do that." I snapped at her, obviously pissed. She held her hands out, her way of telling me she was backing off. I'm not particularly mean or anything, but while I'll admit I do face my shares of challenges in this job, I take it seriously. She knew that, it's why she hired me to work here in the first place. But, so I can reassure her that I wasn't losing my touch (and subsequently not get fired) I snatched up my current project and took it along with me.
In hindsight, I should have stayed put. I didn't really have to get up and go outside to clear my head. I already knew what the problem was. I just wouldn't confront it. My problem is I hated to put in buttonholes in the fabric I designed. The only reason I was able to complete most of my work is because I had the proper motivation back at home. My father supported me in my fashion pursuit, so in order to avoid disappointing him, and to ensure his faith in me is well-placed, I studied and created more representation of my art. Through those works, Prima found me, hired me and I found myself outside of the small childhood home.
The experience is brilliant, yes, but now I find no satisfaction in my work. Most of my works are far from finished and those fortunate to see completion we're far from pleasing to the sight. Perhaps I am losing my touch.
I leaned against the wall, taking out a pair of tailor scissors for some progress in my work. But no matter how well I envisioned the final project, my hands did not progress forward to make the thought a reality. Actually, now that I think about it, Prima must be aware of my dilemma. Otherwise, she wouldn't be acting so harsh with me. Good thing I went outside, otherwise she would have pummeled me.
Just to make sure she doesn't follow me outside and drag me back inside to end my life, I walked off. Maybe a good walk would clear my mind out. Before I do anything else, though, I should put away my scissors. I lifted out my arm in front of my body, taking in the sight of my greatest partners, checking it to make sure it was in proper condition. As a test run, I brought my fingers together, the clicking sound of snipping…
…signaling the scissor's cutting off a set of trousers.
My blue eyes widen out when my sight finally processed what I had done.
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"So let me get this straight. You were walking just outside of the store when, without you realizing it, you cut off the slacks of an innocent passer byer? Aria, are you kidding me?"
"Prima, do you not see the sight of these ruins pants?" I tugged at the sad sight before me. Clothes shouldn't be torn unless it was necessary, both by the hands of us tailors or the hands of time. I could just sob.
"Um, Miss… please, you're making my pants fall down."
The owner of the voice belonged to the new current guest of the shop, not to mention the victim of my clumsy move outside. I honestly felt bad for him. His pants were just too good to be cut. In a better condition than most trousers I've seen on people living under poor conditions in the city streets.
Actually, now that I look more closely, this boy looked pretty well dressed for a street urchin. Or maybe he's not a street urchin. I say he's well dressed, but his clothes were in good condition even if they were a bit dirty. His skin was in a far worse condition, to say the least, like he hadn't showered in days. He wasn't even wearing any shoes. It takes guts to walk down those streets without any footwear.
All things said I felt absolutely horrid for cutting away at such durable fabric still in good condition. Someone ought to hang me outside and punish me with the whole world watching so the lesson could be learned.
"Ahhh, there she goes again, being all depressed about a little clothing accident. I swear, the girl always gets like this when it involves clothes." Prima sighed, explaining everything to the room's guest. "She treats fabric as if it's a celestial object and she's not worthy to even hold it. Seriously…"
"Prima, please," I snapped at her and her word choices. "Don't scare away the guest."
"I think you're already doing a good job on that."
Truly, it did look like the boy was looking at me like I had two heads or something. His blue eyes were wide, taking all of the drama in with that deer-caught-in-the-light posture. I pretty sure even if I started heading towards him with my scissor again, he wouldn't be able to budge from the spot. How cute.
Well, again looking at him, he did have a cute look on him if you looked past the filth. Something inside of me swelled, my thoughts swirling with idea after idea…
"Hey, Prima, don't you think he'll do wonders as a model for our works?" The words already left my mouth before I realized I said them. Both of them looked at me as if I'd grown four heads, but Prima recovered quick enough to return my look with an equally calculating face. She started mumbling under her breath but I can guarantee her words had to do with future clothes ideas. Now our guest definitely had a look of sheer horror on his face and was now making his way to the door. "You can't leave!"'
He flinched, turning around to face me. By the time he fully turned my way, I made it to him, grabbing his arms and bringing his face next to my face, probably a little too close for comfort.
"You should stay! We'll pay you for your troubles, I can promise you that! You can't even stay here if you have no place to go!" I know I saw his eyes weakening after saying that. "Please don't go! At least stay long enough for me to fix up a new attire for you!"
With that, he gave up, head slumping to his chest in defeat.
I think it's safe to say our humble tailor shop welcomed a newcomer – Oliver. Our next order of business with him would be getting him to the shower, ASAP.
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A/N: So begins another fanfiction from me. Yah! (Not.) It's a Vocaloid fanfiction, too! Woot! (Yeah, yeah.) Let's see if I can keep up with this along with the other stuff I'm juggling around. A bit of an awkward start, I believe, but we're on our way, I think. I'm thinking of the plot as we go so that's probably one of the reasons why I'm thinking this is so weird. I have an inkling about the ending, which will hopefully come around or after a little over thirty chapters, so I can take comfort in that. The schedule for uploading this will be different than my schedule for my other fanfic It Matters, but it'll be uploaded again this week, I assure.
Until next time, ja mate ne!