title socialities
summary: You see, for around three years I have backtraced and stalked every blonde-haired blue eyed boy – so forgive me if I'm a little skeptical that all it took was a bar, an interview, and a very boy-crazy Miku to find Len Kagamine.
pairing: Rin/Len, hints of Gakupo/Luka, hints of Kaito/Meiko and slight Kaito/Miku.
rating: T for incest in later chapters

You'd think that after years of being cursed with a straight-edge body and blonde hair that will just not grow, God would give me a sign. He would give a sign that told me that I would magically grow curves, or that I would meet a man who found AA-cup blondies who could pass off as sixteen year olds attractive. Something that told me that I was fine as I was (that wasn't a voice that belonged to my mother) and that I wasn't doomed to die an old spinster. Just one guy. One guy who actually was interested in me, and not just asking me out to hide the fact that he's very, very gay.

But nay, it is not so.

You see, at my local morning cafe where I always go to pick up my latte, there is Sexy Barista Boy, Cute Barista Boy, and Rugged Barista Dad. They are all epic amounts of hot, and it pleases me greatly whenever I see their sexiness. However, whenever I see the trillions of women undressing them with my eyes, it reminds me of how impossibly inadequate I am.

I wasn't this bad back home. I mean, I'm not ugly, or anything. I'm pretty, in that girl-next-door kind of way. It's just that everyone here in New York are so stunningly beautiful and it sucks.

Okay, my two fellow co-workers and best friends, here in Manhattan – Luka and Miku. Miku is beautiful in that girlish way, with her pigtails and long hair, but she can also be sexy (which I fail at – the only thing I can really pull off is 'cute'). While she isn't as well-endowed as Luka, she can make a guy stop in his tracks with one little cutesy pout.

Luka is less – well, not trampy. I guess... open? She's a lot more subtle in her advances. She's dating a guy called Gakupo, who is a massive weirdo with these creepy obsession with eggplants (seriously) but she somehow manages to deal with him. I don't know, I guess that's love for you.

And Miku's got her eye on this guy that she sees on her subway every day. Apparently she's seen him a couple of times with this other chick, but she's still pushy about it. So.

I don't really have my eye on anyone. I used to sort-of like the guy Miku likes now, but I got over that. It was just a crush, anyway.

I've been believing that Cute Barista Boy (or in Miku's terms – Barista Boy the Very Much Younger) has been checking me out for the past... three months? But after bringing Luka with me, she says to me, "It's less of a 'that girl's hot' and more of a 'she looks like my great uncle on a walking stick." After seeing my face, she amends this. "I'm sure you don't look like his uncle. Really."

Uh-huh. That helps.

Miku pats me on the back. "Trust me, Luka knows what she's talking about. Plus, you got him interested – however platonic it may be – so it's not that bad."

Psh. Lousy friends.

I have friends back home, but I haven't heard from them in a while. For a couple of years we really stayed in touch – emails, MSN, that sort of a thing – but eventually the time zones just got too difficult to work with and we drifted apart. I still occasionally call them. And my parents.

I moved to New York around... three years ago? After I got my degree. I'm twenty-five, now, so I moved when I was twenty-two.

I absolutely hated it here when I first came. No taxis would stop for me, the people were rude, I got mugged so I went hungry for two nights in a row – and the rent was sky-high.

But I landed a job at the Vocaloid magazine. I manage to do my job by pretending I know about relationships and answering girls about their problems – you would probably know me as Erin Kay, which is my pseudonym. I have this column where I write my musings and whatnot, and then readers send in questions. Apparently I have a 'fresh retake on relationships'. Go figure.

Miku does the big-shot celebrity stuff, and Luka does the fashion stuff.

(Yes, I know, I'm so eloquent.)

Honestly, my life is pretty ordinary for a twenty-something year old. I get take-out almost every night, I have One Fantastic Dress that I'm saving for a romantic date, and sometimes I spend too much on shoes. Sometimes.

(Besides, who decides what is 'too much'? Exactly.)

So this is my life.

I know. I'm boring.

"Hey, Rinnie-bear? Stop spacing out."

I blink and look over at Miku, who seems impatient. "Sorry. What's up?"

"The sky," she says dryly, and she doesn't look the least bit amused. "Kaito. And the brunette. Again."

"That sucks," I offer, used to her complaints.

"Maybe she's his sister," Luka says, but Miku simply snorts.

"Please. What kind of a sister wears fire-truck red in front of her brother? What kind of a sister... hangs onto him like that? And presses her boobs onto his arm like that? No way. That," she shakes her head, "would be one sick family."

Luka sighs. "Well, what do you want us to say? You should've approached him when you could."

"I don't know how," Miku whines. "I mean – he's – and I'm – he doesn't even know me."

"But you're soulmates," Luka says sarcastically.

"He doesn't know it yet, that's all," Miku grumbles. "Well, enough about me. What about you and Gakupo? Still going strong?"

"As ever," Luka says. "But he's thinking about cutting his hair."

"Is he going to?"

"No." She says it curtly and I laugh at how bothered she seems by it. "It's... it's his thing. I like running my hands through it. So sue me."

"Awww." Miku grins devilishly. "You love him."

"I do not."

"You want to kiiiiss him –"

"Well, duh, otherwise –"

"You want to marry him –"

"Maybe, one day – Miku."

Miku giggles. "You're so flustered, Luka. Oh, by the way, have you guys watched Sex and the City? Because that's totally us."

I blink. "So I'm Carrie – the relationship column person with the dick for a boyfriend."

"Well, yeah, minus the boyfriend part. And, like, I'm –"

"Samantha," Luka pipes in, and Miku glares.

"Okay, I'm not that much of a slut," she snorts. "And, like, I'm younger than you. So suck it. And you're Miranda."

"The lesbian?"

"Miranda, in the series, is not a lesbian," Miku points out. She sips her iced coffee for a brief second. "And like... oh, Rin's a combination of Charlotte and Carrie."

"Why?" I ask, befuddled. Charlotte is a socialite who lives on the Upper East Side – I'm seriously not. I came from New Jersey and I'm living in an apartment with a bathroom the size of a refrigerator box.

"Because you're a prude," Miku says.

"I," I argue, "am so not a prude."

"I've never seen you date anyone before."

"I'm just... not interested."

"Many a hot guy have come your way – and you've never so much as looked."

Tch. Not when you were looking, anyway. I snort, unable to think of an answer.

"What's your point?"

"We should totally set you up!" Miku squeals. "This will be so fun."

"Guys." Luka points to her watch. "Break's over."

We all stand up, Luka bored and Miku giggling and me... being so not amused.

This is not my day.

Wow, I am so rude. With all that babble about how pigs will fly before I can fill a B-cup bra, I never actually introduced myself.

I'm Rin Kagamine. Yes, my grandfather is Japanese. Yes, I'm blonde in spite of it. Yes, I am also blue-eyed.

You'd recognise us back where I live – we practically own everything. The grocery stores, the library – everything. It's always Kagamine Burgers or Kagamine Paper and Stationary Supply.

Everyone was expecting Len to take over the family business, but he didn't. Len is my twin brother. My parents aren't pushy about that kind of stuff, so it's not like we had a bad childhood or anything. And... honestly, I haven't seen Len since I was sixteen.

He moved straight out. Like, with parental permission. He moved in with one of his older friends and my parents never told me where he went, just that it's Len's life and I should leave him alone. It was really bizarre, and I actually cried – yeah, I know, shut up – especially since Len and I used to be real close until I was around fourteen, when he suddenly distanced himself.

It was weird. You see, a normal Rin-Len conversation usually ends up with us bickering over whatever we were talking about – it was all in good fun, though. He'd say stuff about how awesome and amazing he was and I'd just go pshhh and stomp all over his ego. We both saved up for a fast-running laptop so we can sneak it in into our separate rooms in case we have a last-minute assignment due. We were really good friends, I guess, and he was there for me for lots of crap with my friends and offered to beat them up for me. He was a lot better than most brothers – they usually farted and stole underwear. So I was really grateful that Len wasn't a total idiot.

But around fourteen, he started acting weird. If I asked for the remote, he'd hand it to me and swoop right into his room. If I followed him, he'd get all pissy. If I asked him if he wanted the rest of my dinner, he'd glare at me. It was like this until he moved out. I was really hurt by it, but who the hell gets depressed when their brother ignores them? No one, that's who.

Eventually, though, I caved in (when I was sixteen) and told mum and dad about it. I heard mum saying that she wanted 'a talk' with Len. Next time I saw him, he was packing his boxes. He avoided me at school, and when he graduated he moved again.

My parents still won't tell me why – well, they did. They said that he wanted to be independent, but that's a load of bull.

I miss Len. He was my pillar of support for the longest time, taking care of me when he could've shunned me. But I got over it, although I'm still sort of looking for him. Part of the reason why I wanted to go to New York was because his dream was always to start up a business there, and then become really famous.

I searched for a few months before giving up. It was obvious Len didn't want to be found, anyway.

I guess that makes me kind of interesting, having this 'long-lost brother'.

But trust me. It doesn't make me feel very special at all.

Just makes me feel kind of sad, really.

"Hmmm," Miku says, biting on the tip of her pen. "This is interesting."

"Who're you interviewing?" I ask, waiting for some big-shot name to escape her lips. But she isn't squeeing, just staring thoughtfully.

"No one famous," she says, tilting her head as if it would make herself understand better. "But his bar was appointed as Most Potential for Next Big-shot Bar. Hey." She begins flipping through some papers. "It's opening next week. Do you want to come? You could do like, a column about where to meet attractive men."

I laugh. "Sounds fun. I'll get Luka to come, too."

"Please do." Miku frowns. "Hey..."

I blink, a little worried at the sudden seriousness. "What?"

"...nevermind." Suddenly, a wide grin spreads on her face. "Just come. And make sure to wear something sexy – you seriously need to get laid."

"...What."

"And," she continues, "you need to find better responses than 'what'. Now, wear that really cute red cocktail dress – the one with the black ribbon-sash-thing. That," she says, "is awesome. But you only ever wore it once. So."

"So. I have to get back to work – the boss will kill me if I give in my column late again." I wave, heading back over to my cubicle.

"Wait! Rin!"

I peer over my shoulder to see Miku smirking like she knows something I don't (and she probably does).

"Brace yourself."

I can only stare in confusion as she rolls on her chair, resuming her work.

A/N: Pretty obvious who the guy is, right? I never was the most subtle of sorts.

Just a warning, guys. Incest will happen. I'm not going to pull out an 'OH, BUT THEY TOOK A DNA TEST AND IT TURNED OUT THEY WEREN'T RELATED SO IT'S OK!11!' So if that's icky... well, you don't have to read it.