MONDAY MORNING
Monday Morning After the Game
9:15 am... Fluorescent lights flickered on automatically as the door was opened to Tohma Seguchi's office. Monday morning, it's a whole new work week beginning and the end to the weekend. The executive secretary walked in, placed a short stack of messages in the middle of the neatly kept mahogany desk. Next she went to the small bar that sat in the corner of the office, took out the almost empty carafe from the coffeemaker and picked up a black ceramic mug nearby. She sloshed the stale contents slowly as she walked into a well-concealed doorway in the midst of an expanse of the wood-paneled wall. Had she not known of its exact location from years of doing this daily chore, she would never have found the way to open the entry to the hidden room. Pressing a finger against what appeared to be a natural knot in the genuine wood panel, the door slid sideways, and just behind the actual wall, revealed a private bathroom. Tohma Seguchi would never be seen using facilities that just anyone could use; no he was far too private a person for that. As far as she knew, the only other person who knew of this secret room was Ryuichi Sakuma, and how he found out was anyone's guess.
Meandering over to the golden marble sink, she poured the contents of the carafe into the sink. Then she ran hot water into the dirty container, swished it around and dumped it out. Next, the baking soda, just a tablespoonful, was added and more water. More swishing, emptying and rinsing, and Voila! clean carafe. She did the same to the receptacle used for drinking coffee and turned off the water. Leaving her employer's private sanctuary, she proceeded back to the main office and over to the bar. The door automatically slid shut, thus concealing the room again behind an innocent-looking wall. She reached over, took a full bottle of Evian water, poured it into the back of the coffeemaker. She pulled out the filter holder, removed the old filter which contained the spent grounds and threw it away, replaced it with a new crisp, white one which was prefilled with his private blend of coffee. She still marveled at the fact that her employer preferred coffee, not tea, which was more traditionally Japanese. Once the water and coffee were replenished, she turned the toggle switch and waited for the aromatic brewer to start dispensing fresh coffee. Once the waitressing part of her job description was complete, she turned and left the office, going back to her desk to start her secretarial duties.
At precisely 9:50 am, just like any other work day, the executive suite elevator doors opened, and Tohma Seguchi walked out, briefcase in hand. He walked past his secretary whose back was to the elevator, and said, "Good morning, Miss Tanaka," then proceeded into his office.
It was the same every morning, and were it not so, she would know that it was not Tohma Seguchi entering the floor. This morning though, she realized something different. The normal sound of his Italian shoe heels had changed. A quick glance showed her that he was wearing a different pair of shoes. She pondered the sight, thinking out loud, "Why isn't he wearing his custom-made Gucci's? He loves those things." Well, it was his choice, and if he wanted to wear flip-flops and paint his toe-nails green, who was she to question him? She shrugged her shoulders and turned back to her word processor and continued typing.
Tohma walked into his office, placed his suitcase on his desk and proceeded over to the coffeemaker. He poured a cup of the Brazilian-blend liquid and returned to his desk, and took his seat at his throne; I mean his leather desk chair. Holding the glass mug in between both of his hands, he swiveled his chair around and looked out over the Tokyo business district from his thirtieth floor perch atop N-G Studios. As he inhaled the heavenly scent of the brew and then sipped from the lip of the mug, he allowed his mind to wander. This past weekend had been quite eventful, and he wasn't sure how those activities were going to affect him, and his entire staff. Perhaps, these weekly poker games were going to need to stop, or at least his attendance would cease- at least for a while.
He only allowed these thoughts for a few moments before he sighed deeply. Oh well, what was done, was done, and Tohma knew all too well, that history could not be changed. There was no use dwelling on the issue. It was a new work week and he had a full agenda of meetings and then rehearsals with his Nittle Grasper band mates. Turning back towards his desk, he placed the coffee cup down and picked up the stack of messages. Organizing them in order of importance, at least how he considered them important, he then started reading each and doing what needed to be done for each.
Just about the same time, the elevator doors from the garage opened and in stepped K, the manager for Bad Luck. He sported his usual blond ponytail high on his head, black suspenders over white partially unbuttoned shirt and black slacks. What was unusual was the cat-shit eating grin he had plastered on his face and he was whistling some happy tune. K was never happy on Monday morning and today he was. He strolled into the waiting elevator, and just before the door shut, he heard a shout. "Hold that door, K-san." He placed his hand between the closing doors, blocking the electric eye sensor. The doors jerked and reopened.
Hiroshi Nakano ran into the reopened elevator, panting for breath. "Thanks, K-san." As the doors finally closed, the guitarist bent over, placed both hands on his knees and heaved in air. He had run from the far end of the garage to catch the elevator, and that winded him.
K looked at his charge. "Haven't recovered completely from this weekend, huh?" He started laughing at the sight of the doubled-over man. "You know, you didn't have to leave last night. You could have stayed and come to work with me this morning."
Hiro looked sideways at the man. He lost a bet, which required him to spend one night at the manager's home, and it was a wild one at that. But, he stayed over the next day, and continued the sexual adventures with him. By the middle of the second day, they had decided to see if there was really more to the connection than just sex. Now, they were unofficially dating. Unofficial, as in no one else needed to know they were testing the waters of their newfound relationship. Hiro stood up, having caught his breath. On the way to the twenty-first floor, where their rehearsal studio was, he explained his departure the previous evening. "K-san, I couldn't very well come to work in the same clothes I had on Friday, and I needed to get cleaned up, too."
K grinned wider. "I guess you better keep a stash of clothes at my place then. Oh, and after this weekend, drop the honorifics; just call me K or Claude."
Hiro stared at his new lover. Reminders of the weekend flashed in his mind: the heated kisses, the raw sex, and waking up next to the tall American. He was getting hard again, and that was not good, because when the elevator reached the lobby level of the building, the doors reopened, and there stood his lead singer and keyboardist. That killed the hard-on he was getting.
Shuichi was his hyper-normal self, chatting away, telling Suguru about the cosplay that he and the romance novelist put on for each other after the poker game. It seemed that the cowboy and saloon girl act went so well, they tried a few other "American" themed cosplays the rest of the weekend. "Yuki has never been so caring; he even told me he loved me yesterday!" Shuichi was practically bursting at the seams of his extra-tight spandex shorts outfit. "I can't wait to see what he plans for later. He said he's going shopping today for more costumes."
Suguru realized the doors opening and nudged his singer/companion and pointed to K and Hiro who were impatiently waiting for the others. Suguru had listened to the incessant ranting of his friend for over five minutes, and that was five minutes too long, as far as he was concerned. Still, it was better to listen than try to explain how his weekend had gone. He knew that question was going to come up sooner or later, and for now, he preferred later. How could he explain what happened? No one knew that he and Taki were seeing each other. Hell, Taki Aizawa was still considered persona non gratis where N-G was concerned. If it was found that he was actually the ousted singer's lover, all Hell would break lose. No, he would think of something before he was asked to tell how his weekend went. "Come on Shu-chan, they're holding the elevator for us."
He tugged on Shuichi's stretchy, short-sleeved shirt and guided him into the elevator. K and Hiro had heard enough of the story already while waiting for the others to enter the elevator, and when Shuichi started to tell his tale over again, they quickly put a stop to him. Hiro also knew that questions about his weekend would be forthcoming and he dreaded that, as much as K. To keep things to a minimum, K pulled out one of his mini-cannons and pointed it at Shuichi's forehead. Having gotten the pink-haired man's attention, he merely stated, "The weekend is over, Shu-chan. I suggest you concentrate on the job at hand, mainly writing the new songs for the CD that is due by the end of the week."
Shuichi crossed his eyes, looked at the barrel of the gun and closed his mouth. The remainder of the ride to the twenty-first floor was blissfully silent. With no shots fired, the elevator finally reached its destination and when the doors opened, four solemn men emerged, ready to get to work.
In Studio B, Bad Luck's combination rehearsal and writing studio, already sat their producer Sakano. He had his forehead placed on their work table and he could be heard sighing. That was nothing out of the ordinary, he did that a lot. Upon hearing the door open, he looked up and peered through bent frames at the new arrivals. This was new; black tape held the bridge of his signature glasses together. The others moved over to the table, concerned for their producer and friend. Shuichi threw his arms around the desolate man and hugged him while the others stood by, helpless to stop the hyperactive singer. "Sakano-san, are you alright? What happened?" Shuichi practically yelled the questions in the poor man's ear. Hiro grabbed his best friend and pulled him away. He sat him in a chair and took his place next to the pink-haired moppet.
Sakano looked at the ensemble, and knew something needed to be told, but the whole truth was definitely not coming from him. He gave details, speaking almost as frantically as the singer had just moment ago. "On the way home from the poker game, Seguchi-san and I were in an auto accident. That's how my glasses got broken. It was horrible, the car hit a downed tree, the bumper got stuck in the tree trunk and we had to walk in the rain to find a phone because Seguchi-san's cell was ruined when the airbag hit him in the chest. I tell you, that night is one I will never forget." Then he shut up; for at that precise moment, the doors to the studio opened, and the aforementioned Tohma Seguchi strolled in.
He didn't have a particularly happy expression on his face and the glare he gave Sakano was far from one of concern for his well-being. He wondered just how many more details the man would have given if he hadn't been interrupted. One thing no one needed to know was that they got drunk and the sexual escapades that followed. Controlled in temper as he ever was, Tohma walked over to the head of the table and sat on an empty chair. As if he had just called an executive board meeting, he took over the conversation. "Gentlemen, I believe we need to discuss what happened Friday night."
Well, it was out there. Each man had his own story to tell, but no one wanted to tell it. Looks and stares passed among the men, but no one else spoke. Tohma was not a patient man, so he just continued. "I think we should suspend the weekly games, at least for a while. The way everyone plays, I will have bankrupt musicians and staff before the end of the fiscal quarter. None of you can afford to keep losing to K-san." The explanation was logical if not the real reason he wanted the sessions to end. He was just still upset that he lost control of himself around Sakano after the auto accident. The weekly poker game would be a constant reminder of that event.
Gasps and coughs were heard from everyone in the room, except Tohma. The weekly game had been part of their male bonding for over five months, and Tohma wanted to just stop them? K was the first to respond and was upset at his boss's suggestion. "Excuse me, Seguchi-san, but the poker games are something that Bad Luck, Sakano and I started. You and Sakuma-san were invited later on. We like the poker games, and if you feel that way, please feel free to not attend any more of them. But unless the group wants them to stop, we're going to have them." The fact the poker game got him a new lover played heavily in his conviction to maintain the weekly function. He conjured up all the fun things Hiro losing to him would be.
Shuichi wasn't too thrilled Tohma's intrusion in the weekly game from the start, but never said much since Yuki was allowed to come, and he wasn't part of the band. Sakuma-san was one of his best friends, and he liked having someone as crazy as him around for others to yell at when he made a faux-pas. Besides, he was a singer with their rival band. It didn't hurt that Sakuma-san's lover, and the second best poker player, was Yuki's younger brother Tatsuha, so he definitely had no objections to him being there. Tohma was Yuki's brother-in-law, too, and that made his presence tolerable, if not really wanted. He too remembered the fun Yuki and he had this past weekend after the game, and smiled. The game had been good for him and he didn't want anything stopping his fun, especially if Yuki was as creative as last weekend as a result. Shuichi all but screamed at the record company president. "Seguchi-san, we like the poker games on Friday night. So what if we all lose to K-san all the time. It's fun! And, if you don't like it, well, you just stay home!"
Hiro's face turned crimson. It may have been anger, but more likely embarrassment from knowing what this last game had led to that caused the blushes. He merely nodded at the comments of K and Shuichi, and waited for the bomb to explode for the way Shuichi had spoken to their boss.
Suguru remained stoically quiet, biding his time, knowing his cousin's temperament. Besides, he too had gained from this week's game. He imagined more surprises from his secret lover, similar to the one he got after the last poker game ended. His smile was a little more subtle but no less a tell-tale of something unspoken than Shuichi's. No, he wanted the games to continue.
Sakano pressed on the broken bridge of his glasses, pushing them higher onto his nose. He knew better than anyone why Tohma was upset about the game, and losing their paychecks to the American had nothing to do with it. He was about to finally show some guts and stand up to Tohma when the doors to the studio swung open, and a pink bunny entered in the room.
Immediately behind the bunny was Ryuichi Sakuma. He and Kumaguro had been looking all over for Tohma and heard his voice from the hallway. He waited until some of the shouting started and decided perhaps his input was needed. "Kumaguro and I agree with the others, Tohma. We like the poker game, well, I do, Kuma isn't allowed to go anymore, but still, we want the games to continue." He put on his sparkly face and batted his sapphire blue eyes at Tohma. Memories of his escapades with Tatsuha Friday night were dancing in his head. Were it not for the game he missed, he wouldn't have had that night, or the following two days of making up with his lover for refusing K-san's reinstated invitation. No, that game was important, in several ways.
If Ryuichi's temporary banishment from the game couldn't break his spirit, nothing could. Although he had cried to Tohma for weeks about not being able to go, and even tried to convince Tohma to stay away, he now was a backer for the event. Tohma lost his most important ally, and knew he was outmaneuvered. He looked at the assemblage and shrugged his shoulders as he sighed. The games weren't really that bad, and maybe he was reacting over what happened afterwards, and not about the game's outcome. He gave in to the others' wishes. "Alright, the game goes on, but from now on, we play for fun. Everyone gets a set number of poker chips and when they are exhausted, that person's game is over. No more money exchanges hands. Are we agreed?"
Looks passed among the all the others, and heads nodded in agreement. No one really liked losing their paychecks to K-san, but they could really afford to lose the base-salary monies. Those were insignificant against the royalties they all got from the music sales and concerts. But, it was the idea that Tohma was getting across that actually got to them. Besides, the game itself was fun, the money wasn't important. What happened afterwards was even more fun, and if this week was any indication, it would only be more so!
With that decided, Tohma got up to leave, and tapped Ryuichi on the shoulder. "Come, my friend, Noriko is probably waiting for us in our studio now." Ryuichi and Kumaguro waved goodbye and followed Tohma out the door.
When Tohma left, K announced it was time for them to get to work, also. They had just wasted an hour debating the merits of a poker game. Friday's scheduled game was another four days away, and until then, he wanted to see and hear music written by his three musical geniuses. With smiles of the past weekend's game consequences on their faces, the five men got back to their job, making music.
Friday night, at six o'clock sharp, pens and paper were put away, instruments packed up and seven men from the ranks of N-G Studio headed out the building, ready to reconvene in half an hour at K-san's apartment for the weekly poker game. Each wore a smile, but not all the thoughts were on winning at cards. But that's a whole other set of stories!