Disclaimer: I do not own Skip Beat.
"Ah! FU-" Kyoko quickly remembered that it wasn't Shotaro who was bleaching her brows at that moment, but her Okami. "Forgive me, Okami-san," She smiled meekly at the sharp look Taisho had speared her with when her tongue almost finished pronouncing that unforgivable cry of, "CK!". "I still haven't gotten use to this,"
"Oh no, I'm sorry, Kyoko-chan," Okami-san crumpled her forehead in concern at her tenant's wince. "I should be more careful, but this smell is getting to my head,"
"I'm so sorry for making you smell the bleach," The bleach-haired youngster bit her lip. "I should have just done it myself instead of selfishly asking you to do it for me, Okami-san,"
Meanwhile, Taisho rolled his eyes. And the guilt-fest begins...
"Not at all, Kyoko-chan. I'm always happy to help, though it is my fault that I got a little bit of it on your eyelashes,"
"NEVER!" Kyoko gasped, and theatrically clasped her chest, right over her heart. "That was all my fault! I blinked right as you were going in to put it on my eyebrow. I-I shouldn't have blinked! Please, PLEASE forgive me!"
Taisho sighed when he saw her prepare to go into a dogeza. Honestly, girls her age got on their knees that often for less respectful reasons. Kyoko would have to answer to his knife should she ever follow that particular trend.
His wife saw it coming, and with speed that no semi-arthritic, forty-going-on-fifty year-old woman should have, slapped a firm palm on Kyoko's forehead to stop her tear-stricken face from touching the floor.
"You will not ruin your eyebrows, Kyoko-chan," Okami-san ordered, startling the life out the teen.
Taisho cringed and went back to doodling pension money on the living room table with his finger. Kyoko wilted back into her proper, stick-straight, Japanese sitting position.
Later on, Okami-san got her a box of tissues, for which Kyoko thanked her vigorously for. Then Okami-san wheedled her husband into wiping the bleach off of Kyoko's face, much to both Taisho and Kyoko's dismay.
"A pregnant woman with an amputee fetish?" Kyoko croaked. She ripped her eyes off of the paper and stared in disbelief at the cute, curly-haired idol bouncing from her heel to her toes.
"Yes!" She, the idol, gushed. "I thought it would be something a little different than what I usually do,"
"A...a little...?"
"I mean, I'm a singer and everything," She twirled a shiny copper lock of hair and bit her glossy bottom lip. "But I thought that I would give acting a shot. Who knows, I might be talented in both, right?"
The girl's first name started with an N and probably ended with "fucking moron", but Kyoko tamped down the urge to commit some well-deserved homicide.
"But do you think," The idol bit her lip again, and stared right into Kyoko's raging gold eyes. "that they're going to make me get pregnant so I could play this part?"
Fine. Give her a -10 stamp. Kyoko wanted to live a little too.
She leaned in, adopting an equally scandalous tone. "How else did you think you would play a pregnant amputee-fetishist?"
Fifteen minutes later.
Kyoko whistled. Or, at least she tried to. Hey, brownie points for effort. So what if she was really blowing air out of her mouth and trying to make it sound like a catchy showtune?
The director came outside, rubbing his temples and patting his pinstriped suit. Kyoko licked her lip; she'd seen that guesture before. The wrinkles on his forehead vanished when a pocket yielded a pack of cigarettes. With practiced ease, he placed the cigarette between his lips and fished out a lighter. He lit up, inhaled, and exhaled loudly.
Then he seemed to notice Kyoko.
"You part of my make-up crew?" He asked in a gravelly voice, which Kyoko decided she liked. He was a good-looking guy; an older man, but still nice to look at. Kyoko's inner woman didn't mind when he gave her a once-over.
"No, I'm part of N-" Damn it, what was her name? "Na...Na - Naru! Yes, I'm part of Naru-chan's team,"
He gave Kyoko a funny look, but did an eyebrow-shrug and inhaled again. He sighed again, rubbing his hair.
"I swear, these fucking idols-" He shook his head.
"I understand,"
"She thinks I want to get her pregnant. I even showed her the body suit and she still hasn't changed her mind," He ran a hand over his face. "Fucking moron,"
"...I understand. Is there anything I can do?" Kyoko innocently looked up at him.
He shot her a withering look. "You can either get her to shut up, or find me a new star,"
"I'm on it," Kyoko bowed and sailor-saluted. She stuffed her hands into her pink, Love Me jumpsuit and ran off in the direction of the LME building.
The location of the Love Me job was roughly four blocks away from her workplace, so Kyoko booked it on foot. She craftily avoided pedestrians and those dastardly cracks in the sidewalk. Step on a crack, break your mother's back.
Kyoko wasn't all that winded by the time she ran through the sliding doors of LME. Maybe it was because of the second hand smoke from the director, or it might have been from killing the need to laugh at how gullible that Naru-chan was.
But Kyoko slammed right into Tsuruga Ren.
Her nose felt like it was going to combust. Seriously, what was that man made of? He was like that robot from that American movie she and Shotaro loved so much. The Terminator. Yeah, Tsuruga Ren was built like that.
"It's you," He looked like he would rather peel his toe nails off and eat them than share the same oxygen as Kyoko. While she was mildly offended by this, she tried not to show it.
Kyoko smiled stiffly in turn and forced herself to bow politely. Mother of Pearl, his feet were huge! What was it that Shotaro always said?
"Good afternoon, Tsuruga-san,"
His frown only deepened. "Once again, you are presenting LME poorly,"
Kyoko arched a cheddar-orange brow, going from mildly offended to full-blown butt-hurt. "What do you mean by that?"
Dark eyes coldly studied her, making Kyoko follow suit and look at herself. Well, gosh, it wasn't like anybody short of His Majesty would be able to keep a baggy pink pair of overalls neat after running like Satan was snapping at her heels.
They both brought their stares back up at the same time. She held her eye contact even though looking into Tsuruga Ren's eyes was something of a feat; a Herculean effort, more like. They were steely gray sometimes, though maybe they were more taupe? Either way, eye contact with him sent chills down her back and goosebumps all over her skin. Though Kyoko would gouge her own eyes out before admitting that they were pleasant tingles.
"I mean," Tsuruga motioned at her hair and down to her rumpled clothing. "You look like a mess,"
The tiny ponytail she had tied had become loose, spitting out orange strands in a disarray. She had thickly coated mascara on her lashes, since Okami-san had bleached a couple lashes orange. Now that mascara was smearing under her eyes. She was pretty sweaty, too, and from how hot her cheeks felt, red.
"I am making a statement, Tsuruga-san," Kyoko challenged defensively.
The things that shot out of her mouth shocked her sometimes. She would go with this, though. No way was she going to let this man get away with insulting her again.
Kyoko made a grandiose presentation of herself and stuck her chin up boldly. Tsuruga Ren's eyes darkened slightly, making Kyoko grin a little. "How is it a bad thing that LME employees are taking care of their bodies by exercising? In fact, Tsuruga-san, I just ran a lap around the block without getting out of breath,"
"Oh?" He cocked a brow, eyes narrowing. Tsuruga Ren crossed his arms, gray suit jacket tightening over his wonderfully muscled arms.
"In fact," Kyoko continued. "I think it reflects negatively on LME when our employees aren't willing to break a sweat or get their hands a little dirty,"
Tsuruga Ren's lips thinned. "I won't argue with that," And just like that, he began to smile brilliantly. Kyoko froze instantly. She was beginning to understand him and his mood swings, and that he tended to act like a girl, like when he acted like he was fine when he was actually lethally pissed. "But Mogami-san, have you apologized to me yet for bumping into me?"
She momentarily lost her cool, gold eyes widening. "Me? Bumping into you? Tsuruga-san," Kyoko breathed, hand on heart once more. "You knew I was a little tired from my run and yet you were the one being careless enough to not see m-"
"I believe it was you who said that you ran around the block without getting out of breath," He smirked. Tsuruga Ren brought his face down to Kyoko's, effectively petrifying her. "Unless, you were lying to me?"
"I cannot tell a lie," Kyoko replied quickly.
"Then why are you pursuing an acting career?" She could smell his cologne from his closeness, and it was beginning to fog up her brain.
And just as quickly as he'd been in her face, he was out of it.
Tsuruga Ren looked down at her (figuratively and physically, the bastard) expectantly.
Kyoko bit the inside of her cheek in order to stop herself from telling him to go eat a dick. Like she would bow to this man, even if he was the number one actor in Japan.
She forced a smile and folded herself into a bow. Through gritted teeth, she said, "I apologize for running into you, Tsuruga-san. Having a sixteen year-old girl bump into you must be painful, ne?"
Kyoko smiled sweetly and rejoiced at the tiny flicker of annoyance in his eyes. "If there is nothing else, I have a job to do,"
Before he could respond, Kyoko skeddadled out of there, gleeful at her triumph. She had just one-upped Tsuruga Ren, and it was nice.