Authors Note: Welcome to Vexatious Ardency. If you've decided to read this, thank you so much for dropping by. I've been in a small writing funk lately and I really wanted to get the ball rolling again. I'm hoping that this does it!
I'm just going to straighten a few things out before the story starts to roll. I'm not planning on using any honorifics in this fanfiction because I do not think it is necessary for them. They are in Japan so of course they are going to be used, but since I am writing this in English it's quite redundant for me to use them. If I did use them, I'm pretty sure I would forget to add them in sometime in the future. So, for my sake of continuity, they will not appear.
I normally don't do this, but the fact that my characters know more than one language (English and Japanese); it may come up one day in the fic. That being said, some figures you may need to look out for in the fic:
Thoughts of a character or emphasis
"Japanese (for imagination sake of the story.)"
"English." (Or the quotes at the beginning of the story.)
As far as the English goes, I will normally indicate if they start to speak in English so don't worry too much about it if you forget. :)
Pairings: Still debating. Please vote in the poll. :)
Warnings: Later in the story they may be some sexual tension.
Disclaimer: Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori. No one is profiting from anything written in this story. I only own the character I have created.
Enjoy! Follow and review, please. ;)
Edit: August 23, 2013
Chapter one: Porcupine
"Telling an introvert to go to a party is like telling a saint to go to Hell."
–Criss Jami
She was once again stood up by her lousy excuse of a boyfriend, alone in a coffee shop and staring down at a cup of milky, caramel liquid that was once piping hot. A sigh left her full lips as she glared towards the watch latched to her wrist, spying the time. It was a little after nine at night and she had agreed to meet the louse at eight o' clock sharp. This wasn't the first time the man she was so enthralled with stood her up and became a no show. The sad part about her current situation was that the man had wanted to apologize for standing her up the last time by taking her out to get a cup of coffee. The girl sighed, gritting her teeth and stirring the luke warm liquid around in her cup. She honestly didn't understand why she even tried as hard as she did anymore. It was quite obvious that her lover wasn't as into the relationship as he once was. She needed to back out of it now, lest end up getting hurt even more.
Pushing the cup away from her, she laid a small tip on the table before grabbing her coat and hauling out of the door. Her heart ached and she bit her bottom lip to keep herself from crying, at least for the time being. Camellia had always been so dedicated to him, his needs, and the relationship. However, it seems that he couldn't have the same courtesy by giving her his undivided attention.
A small shiver ran through her spine as she set foot out of the warm shop. It was the middle of winter and snow fell proudly to the ground leaving the Earth's surface blanketed in a quilt of snow. It was a beautiful sight to say the least and a small smile was centered on the woman's face. She always did love the snow—how fresh the air smelled, the cool hand that caressed her face, and the relaxed, serene feeling that was left by the dark snow clouds in the sky. It brought her wandering, tired mind at peace and made her heart light.
She knew what she had to do. She was no longer going to sit back and let that man walk all over her heart. Tonight, Camellia would end things once and for all. There was no need for waiting; he had stood her up one time to many without even a call of excuse to why he never showed. Raising her hand in the still busy streets of New York, she frantically waved down a Taxi. It took her a few tries but after a few minutes the yellow automobile sailed towards her, skidding to a halt in front of her. She climbed into the car, not noticing that the other side of the door was being opened as well. It was only when she was settled in that she looked over to see a man wearing a tailored suit getting into her means of transportation.
The man then seemed to notice her, eyebrows raising high in surprise. They stared at each other for a good moment, an awkward silence following their suspenseful eye lock. "I apologize, it looks like we both flagged down the same cab," the man spoke finally, attempting to climb out of the car only to be stopped by a feminine, husky voice.
"Oh no, it's quite alright. I don't mind sharing if you don't. Conserving energy and all that jazz," she said smiling politely up at the obvious business man. Clutching his briefcase within his large, slender fingers he seemed to be debating whether or not to take the young woman up on her offer. Though looking down into her big brown eyes and heart shaped face was making it hard to say no. So, with a resound sigh he proceeded to climb into the car and close the door behind him.
"Thank you, I don't know what I would have done if I had to wait in that wretched snow any longer," he said, shivering and rubbing his hands together. Camellia took the time to study his lack of coat, gloves, and scarf. It was odd that he seemed to hate the cold, yet he chose not to dress properly.
"You'll catch your death for not dressing appropriately," she muttered under her breath before glancing back at him. "Now, where are you headed? I find it fair to drop you off first since I insisted we share this cab," she inquired softly.
"I see you're already trying to get rid of me," he teased with a mischievous look glinting in his emerald eyes. "Though I think that would be best because my girlfriend would have a cow if I showed up late for our reservation," he stated with a look of mock fear in his eyes. Camellia laughed, feeling a slight pang in her chest at the word girlfriend. It was selfish of her to feel jealous of the man just because he was happy and she was miserable. He seemed so exultant speaking of his lover, even if it was only to explain that she would be upset if he were late. She smiled softly, remembering a time where her, soon to be ex, had the far off look in his eyes when he talked to her.
"Well, that works out perfectly then. I wouldn't want you getting in trouble with your jewel," she replied, in a teasing matter, though a bit of bitterness seeped through her tone. He didn't seem to notice and for that she was grateful. She didn't need this to be a tense trip. The man told the driver where to go and she agreed that when the second occupant was gone, she would disclose her address as well. "My name's Camellia by the way," she said after he was finished talking with the driver. He turned to her with a friendly smile on his face and stuck out his hand towards her.
"Lovely to meet you Miss Camellia. My name's
Loud applause scared me out of my reading and I looked up, hazel orbs frantically searching the room. Taking a deep breath in I gently closed the book and placed it onto my lap. The lights in the large hall dimmed and that officially ended my bout of peaceful reading. I always hated when I was interrupted in the middle of reading a sentence, but I suppose it really couldn't be helped. My eyesight already wasn't the best and I wasn't going to risk having to get glasses right after I just received braces. My days of reading in the dark were over and I would just have to learn patience, no matter how much of wanted to know what the male lead was going to say.
I was already on the third chapter and the louse that kept standing up Camellia was souring my mood. I just wanted her to break up with the man already, however the author found joy in torturing her readers and making them experience Camellia's heartbreak. Though, the readers knew something that Camellia didn't know. Her soon to be ex, hopefully, was cheating on her. Apparently to my friend back in the states who recommended the book to me, there was another twist to his cheating and I wanted to discover the secret quickly. However, my friend wouldn't tell me for fear of spoiling the book for me. I adored spoilers and no matter how much I tried to explain that so Brielle, she still refused to tell me. I would just have to find out the old fashioned way—finish reading or Google my answers.
Chair after chair around me was filled with people that were present to spy on the new garments of the last line of the summer's collection. Critics, designers, and other Hollywood faces all had their attention glued to the stage eager to lay eyes on the fashionable fabrics that had been thrown together. The spotlight was focused center stage and the host of the show stood there with a friendly or smug as I see it, smile on his face. Dressed in a tailored suit to an impeccable fashion, he clasped his hands together and greeted the audience with an enticingly velvet voice. Beside the man was a woman, my mom I would like to call her, dressed in a form fitting dress that hugged in the best places but was too wanton. It was a classy halter top dress with a split down the side.
She looked absolutely radiant with that charming smile that could warm a villain's heart and round eyes that shone with childish glee. She repeated everything that the Japanese host was saying in English fluently for the English speakers in the audience and also for the people watching the live broadcast at home. The process was tedious for me, but was necessary for the individuals in the audience that didn't understand what the man was saying. The room was quiet, other than the murmuring of the hosts and the occasional coughing. Everyone's attention was solely focused on the two individuals on the stage that talked their way into the hearts of the audience.
"Hello, and welcome to the finale of the Hot n' Fun Summer line. We are all glad that you all could take the time out of your busy schedules to be here for the last ride of this blistering summer issue," Alexandra spoke clearly and confidently in her native tongue as she translated the Japanese man's words with the phrase they had practiced again and again. She waited for him to stop saying the next staged line before she spoke again with enthusiastic energy.
"We have a lovely show put together for you all tonight. Pacing music, beautiful garments, and let's not forget the models—new faces and old. Tonight is a night packed full of fun that reminds me of my childhood playing with the lighting bugs under the moon in the fresh summer's air. And trust me, that was a long time ago," she elaborated with a shake of her head and a mock sorrowful face of recalling her childhood. Her face twisted in distaste at the thought of remembering a time she was so young and the audience around me laughed at her well timed jokes and puns. I smiled, feeding off of my mother's energy and slowly forgetting the book that I was so engrossed with.
"But enough of my rambling, let's get on with the show, shall we? Young and Beautiful Agency proudly presents Hot n' Fun the summer issue," as the last few words left her lips, pulsing music crawled from the speakers and applause erupted all around me. I looked around, seeing the three seats beside me void of a being and my brow furrowed.
Just where are those three? For someone that runs a modeling agency, he can sure be late for the most important things.
I looked up at the run way to see my mom wink at me with a motherly smile on her lips just for me. I winked back mimicking the same eye. She then winked the other eye and I copied the same movement before watching her walk off the stage. I smiled softly, heart fluttering at the special gesture we had between each other. I was pleased that she still found the time to do small things like that even when she was working.
Shuffling sounded beside me and I glanced over to spy a man wearing dark tinted black sunglasses. Upon closer inspection I noticed that they were Burbberry brand, sunglasses that were two-hundred dollars or more. Rolling my eyes, I watched the man bound over with two elementary students following behind him. They sat down in the seats vacant beside me and I looked over at the dark haired man clichély wearing sunglasses inside.
"Really daddy, sunglasses inside? You're going to be one of those douche-like guys now?" I asked frowning over at him and he pursed his lips at my word choice but didn't comment. He knew I was right and it didn't seem like he liked the notion any more than what I did. He leaned over in his chair and whispered quietly to me.
"Paparazzi can be a bitch sometimes," he said, not wanting the young twins beside him to hear such vulgar language. I chuckled under my breath and shook my head. He kissed my temple before sitting back in his seat and looking up at the pulsating runway. I followed his example and watched the tall, slender models walk out onto the runway with confidence. Their faces were set with fierce expressions and their strides were filled with pose. My eyes instantly locked onto the garments that they were wearing, making mental notes of what I liked and what I didn't. I tried not to cringe when one of the models strutted out with what looked like a mix of a scouring pad, a sea urchin, and a porcupine put together. It was an interesting design to say the least—fully black in color and covered in frilly fabrics that looked like the same material a bathroom rug was made out of. I'd have to say this wasn't one of my favorite designs and I often wondered why some designers made such hideous things. I understand artist visions and all that, but sometimes it was just too much.
One of the designs that I liked was the mix of a tennis dress and a strait jacket. I liked how it fitted to the body of the wearer and how simple the design was, but still held a creative flare. I think I would actually wear it out into public. What I've noticed over the years of being thrown into the world of fashion was that most suave clotheslines weren't fit to actually be worn in public. I wanted to create a clothing line that was practical and still fit to bedazzle down the runway.
To put it simply, most "fashion statements" were gaudy and tasteless.
The first wave of models was finished and the next wave would be coming soon. The first line up of models were the seniors of the bunch and up next the rookies were either going to sink or swim. That being said, a brief intermission was emitted and chatter started up all around. The twins sat in their seats, poking fun at each other and I rolled my eyes at their playful nature. I got out of my seat and effectively sat on my dad's lap so I could start a conversation with the twins. However, what I didn't count on was the teasing of my dad that followed my added weight.
He grunted, adjusting me and looked up at me with a frown, "My little girl seems to be getting bigger and bigger every day. What is it that you're eating?" he asked, eyes wide and pushing me off of his lap like I was crushing him. He enjoyed teasing me, no matter how tasteless his jokes were sometimes. Sliding off his lap, I adjusted myself back and this little push and pull went on for a few minutes.
"Same thing momma's been feeding you," I said poking his stomach that wasn't as firm as it was in his earlier years.
"I don't blame you. Alexandra feeds us well. Speaking of which, what are we going to be eating tonight?" he wondered aloud and Aidan piped up with his opinion.
"I wanna go to that restaurant that has the yummy cheesecake," he said and his doppelganger nodded her head in fervent agreement.
"Yeah! Can we go there? Mariana told momma that she loves the cheesecake, especially when she's on her period," Nadia all but broadcasted to the world. I jumped up and slammed my hand over her mouth as people looked over at the girl with perplexed expressions. Mocha complexioned skin flushed in embarrassment and I glared at the little girl that looked around in confusion.
"Why period? Why not exclamation? Are you on your exclamation Mari?" Aidan asked and the man I was sitting on tried his best to keep in his laughter—to no avail. He snorted and his forehead collided with my shoulder as he shook with laughter. While I on the other hand was flustered and wishing I could dig a hole. The two mirror images seemed to amuse some of the individuals around them, while others looked up with an upturned nose.
"Alright, if you both shut up we'll go there after the show is over," I said slowly taking my hand away from Nadia's mouth when she nodded earnestly.
"But are you on-"
"No Aidan, now stop asking!" I hissed through gritted teeth and he giggled, thrilled that he was pissing off his older sister. Oh how I wished Michael was here at times like these. He would have surely helped me out of this situation. I was no match for the twin's mischief and taking it on alone these last few months has proven difficult. When I get home I am definitely calling the older brother that abandoned me on this ship.
The ten minute intermission soon came to a close and the gathering audience returned to their seats. Lights once again dimmed and the stylish Japanese man and my mother walked back on the stage. The smile that the Japanese man held seemed a bit more forced than last time and I wondered who pissed in his cornflakes during the previous ten minute break. Seeing the perplexed expression on my face, Dad leaned over in his seat (since I already returned to my seat when the intermission was over) and explained to me his theory.
"He's the designer of that porcupine dress and from the look on his face people are already talking about how bad it was," he said with a small smirk on his face. Nodding my head in understanding I watched the sweat drip down the man's temple and the large gulps that he was taking. He looked really angry, but that outfit was hideous. I don't see why he thought it was going to be a big hit. That explained his smug smile at the beginning of the show.
"My, my this show is going by faster than I expected. I'm almost sad to see the show coming to an end. Almost. I'm kind of hungry so the quicker this is over, the sooner I can feed my growling tummy," my mom joked, her carefree attitude coming through within her hosting. She had such a great sense of humor and an air to really grab attention. Chortles echoed around the room and the least self-important individuals of the bunch called out in agreement.
"Before we finish this road trip, I was supposed to introduce the owner of the agency at the start of the show," she explained and pointedly looked out to the audience at her husband. He shuffled around nervously in his seat at her heated gaze and the small smile on her face unnerved him. "Thanks to my keen observation, I noticed that he wasn't here on time and pranced in a few minutes after I walked off stage. How convenient, huh?" Alexandra asked the audience with her hands placed on her hips and lips pursed saucily.
I laughed along with the audience and Dad sank in his chair as if trying to disappear. Not so funny now when people are laughing at you is it?
"That being said, I'd like to introduce the owner of the agency and my loving husband, Suzuki Ren," the name rolled of her tongue and she applauded with the rest of the crowd. Ren sprung back into action, pushing to the side his wife's teasing nature and stood up facing the crowd. A bright smile was on his face as Alexandra walked over towards him and handed him the microphone. He took it gratefully and I watched him work his magic. Though around his family he was a big goofball, he was actually quite the charmer.
"Good evening to all of you lovely folks. From what I hear you all are having a great time, I hope," he spoke clearly while my mother translated eagerly. "As my lovely wife pointed out, I ran a little late. Shame on me, I know. However, thank you all for coming, the support is magnificent," I could tell that he meant every word. His job meant just as much as his family did to him. He loved what he did and he built up this foundation from bottom to top. His agency was just as much his baby as his children were and I was proud of him for that.
My mother and father's faces weren't always television material. They both made something of themselves by starting off without the riches. I think that's what made them both so down to earth. They understood what it was like to be low on money and how to value a dollar. The same things that they were taught as children, they taught it to us to. They never forgot where they came from and who raised them. Yes, they have money now and sometimes their faces are seen in magazines, but they never flaunt what they earn. I know they would never tell the four of us this—Aidan, Nadia, Michael, and I , but the money that puts food, a roof, and clothes on our backs is our parents. The skills that they are teaching us now are abilities that are to be put to good use as adults. I think this is why I'm so determined to run after my dreams. My parents inspired me and though Michael won't admit it, they inspired him to apply for the School of Arts.
"I'm more than a little excited to introduce new models that our agency has discovered and I hope you see as much talent as I do in them. So without further ado, enjoy the rest of your blistering summer evening," he said and skillfully handed the microphone back to his wife. She took it with a caress of his hand before retreating back behind the stage. Once again the pulsating music began and my eyes were drawn to the platform and the models that walked down it. They were less graceful than their seniors, but they still exuded a small bit of confidence. I took careful notes of how materials were used and put together, mentally making a memo to try techniques I liked on my own designs.
A brief tap against my arm brought me out of my analytical state of mind and I tilted my head to the right, eyes still trained on the stage. "How do you think Imari is going to do up there tonight?" my dad asked with what sounded like a hiss of worry in his voice. I hummed, taking my time to answer his question. Imari was a gorgeous woman in her early twenties that Dad recently contracted. She had it all—pale-milky skin, big-childlike eyes, rosy cheeks, long legs, small waist, etc. I could go on for days because the list was endless. I was quite envious of her close to perfect physique. Compared to her I was a frumpy troll—with my curly (more like unruly) hair, metal mouth, skin that broke out with a single drop of sweat, and hips that would make eighteenth century men pleased that I could bear their children.
It was very easy to feel insignificant in my opinion.
However, though she was the image of Venus, Snow White, and Aphrodite themselves, she had one particular flaw. "Hmm, let's just pray she doesn't fall flat on her face like she did at dress rehearsal."
She was clumsy as hell.
Ren groaned, looking over at the spawn he created and watched the coy, pleased smile that spread across my face. He groaned, sinking back into his seat seeming to take my advice as he looked up at the ceiling in a silent prayer.
Yes, this last hour or less is going to be quite amusing.
