35 Millimeters: Behind the Lens
By Lady Aishiteru
Part 1- The Eye of the Beholder
Misery loves company. That's what I always thought. It starts deep inside of you, a bottomless,
yearning ebb, an aching ooze that needs to get out. Escape. That's when it
latches onto other hapless victims and replicates. Maybe misery is lonely; as an emotion, it wants to be loved. Maybe it takes more than one person to
really appreciate it, to embrace it and understand its depths.
Or maybe I've been sitting under the
lights for too long. I laughed shakily
and took the ragged breath into my lungs.
It was poor nourishment, and very temporary, needing to be joined by
another, then another.
"Are you okay, Minako?"
I looked at the cameraman and
flashed him my million-dollar smile. It was the same smile that is featured on
the covers of Cosmopolitan, where it seems like that's all that I'm
wearing. Beautiful blonde tresses with
not a hair out of place just barely hide two seemingly unnaturally perfect
breasts. Then the eye is drawn lower, to a brazenly bare navel, and a silky,
almost translucent dress that reveals more than it clothes. That would be my figure on display, that of
Minako Aino, fabulous supermodel, the one who's always smiling on the outside. Despite the brightness of my teeth and the
dimples in my cheeks, I'm not smiling on the inside.
It's the worst kind of irony,
really. Someone like me should be able
to have any guy she wants with the snap of her perfectly manicured
fingers. And I could, but would he like
the Minako Aino, famous cover girl, or the real me, the one behind all of the
flashing camera bulbs and plastered smiles?
Would he be too dazzled by my reputation to find out? I pondered this as I alluringly crossed and
uncrossed my long legs for the next photograph. Sex would be easy to get, and possibly to give, but I don't want
to make love. I want to find it.
People have always told me I was
pretty, ever since I was a little girl growing up in the west side of
London. You should be a model, they
said. You're pretty enough. You could make it. Really. And, fool that I
was, I believed them. Not that I was
stupid for believing their forecasts of success, in that respect, they were
right. It was the unspoken message behind
the lines I bought into, enough to move out of the projects and to pose for
people across the ocean. I believed the
lie that being rich and famous guarantees happiness. Hell, I even lived it, but there came a point when it
seemed…hollow. Empty. Meaningless.
And I'm sick of it. Damned sick, I thought, as I hailed a cab
after work. That was when I washed away
the makeup, and put on my disguise. The
disguise, concocted by my friend, Ami, consisted of pulling my hair into the
loop of a baseball cap, wearing a nearly opaque pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses,
baggy jeans, a ratty T-shirt and a sports jacket. I wanted to leave the cover girl behind, at least for the
weekend. It was time to let my hair
down, to be with people that knew the real me.
Minako Aino, the woman behind the camera lens.
The cab driver stopped the car and
turned around in his seat. "Miss,
if you don't mind my asking, why don't you keep your work clothes on? Why are you so quick to want to look like
everyone else?"
I said nothing in response, just
thanked him and gave him a tip.
"Have a nice weekend, Mr. Thomas."
"You too, miss."
I closed the door and walked away,
listening to my stiletto heels clicking on the pavement as I walked towards the
Soda Shoppe. It's one of the few places
in Tokyo I can visit without being mobbed.
The owner, Motoki Furuhata, knows me personally, and has promised not to
tell his customers about me. His wife, Reika,
makes sure that he keeps his end of the bargain.
"Hey guys, how's it going?"
I asked, hearing the double doors whoosh shut behind me.
"Hi, Minako. Ami's just showing
us this wicked cool picture she did with her and her grandma on the
computer," said Usagi.
I looked at the photo very
closely. It was a picture of Ami standing
next to her grandmother. Both were
smiling, the kind of smile that's sincere, that reaches the eyes. If I hadn't attended the funeral, I would
have sworn that Ami's grandma was still alive and breathing. "Cool! You can't even tell."
"Y'know, you should do this for
real, I mean, as a job," said Usagi through a mouthful of sundae.
"You think?" asked
Ami. She looked kind of doubtful, but I
knew that Usagi would be able to convince her otherwise. She's always been like that; warm, encouraging,
friendly. Usagi is someone who's as
beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside. She has this crazy, guffaw-like laugh, and it's contagious. When she laughs, you can't help but to laugh
with her. She makes people feel special
just by being with them.
"I know so," said
Rei. When I met Rei Hino for the first
time, it was at the Cherry Hill temple.
She was wearing these weird robes, like a priestess would wear. I thought she was this subdued, gentle
spirited, shaman-like Shinto priestess.
Well, I thought that for about ten seconds, anyways. Then she opened her mouth, and she hasn't
closed it since. Even though she's
gorgeous, I have the hardest time finding a date for her. She has this unfortunate tendency to push
away guys that get too close. I know
this one guy who would be just perfect for her, but she would never know it.
"Even that ornery cuss wad,
Mamoru would like it." Rei added.
"REI!" yelled Usagi,
fortunately AFTER she had swallowed her ice cream. "You picking on my Mamo-chan? How many times must I tell you to LAY OFF?"
"Relax, Usako," said a
deep voice. "I can take care of
myself. But I do appreciate the effort,
beloved."
I covered my ears and waited for the
inevitable, high-pitched squeal. I was
not disappointed.
"MAMO-CHAN!" she screamed, clearing the stool she was sitting
on, reaching her husband in a single bound.
"I'm happy to see you
too," he said, chuckling.
They were allowed to stand there
like that for all of ten seconds, when Rei decided she had enough. "Get a ROOM, love-birds! You're freaking me out!"
"You're just jealous,"
said Usagi, sticking out her tongue from her position in Mamoru's arms.
In her classic form, Rei retorted,
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"Geez, will you two morons ACT
YOUR AGE?" yelled Makoto, the karate fisted brunette of our group.
I stifled a groan. Those two have been like that since junior
high, or at least that's what Ami and Makoto say. "Or at least your shoe
size," I mumbled.
"I HEARD THAT!" yelled
both Usagi and Rei, and Mamoru leaped backwards in fear of future hearing
loss. Honestly, I don't blame the
guy. It seemed like they've known each
other for a thousand years, even though they didn't meet until they were both
in high school. He'd married Usagi two
years ago, and it's totally obvious that they're meant for each other. I let out a little sigh. Wasn't there anyone I was meant to be with?
I watched them whisper a
conversation in private. I didn't hear
anything they said until I heard an indignant "MAMO-CHAN!" I laughed
a little, knowing he must have said something really naughty to get her going
like that, and that it was making Rei very uncomfortable.
"Well, on that note, I'd better
be going," I said.
"So soon?" asked Makoto.
"Yeah. Later!"
"Bye," they all chorused.
I began the long, lonely walk to my
penthouse apartment down the street. I
was looking forward to going home and sitting down with a cup of herbal tea and
the daily paper. Not that I'm crazy
about coming home to an empty penthouse, but a bit of peace and quiet is a nice
change of pace from my hectic workdays.
I breathed an audible sigh of relief
when I stepped into the penthouse. No
camera flashes, no pushy reporters, no annoying photographers. Just my couch,
my paper, my herbal tea and me. I
kicked off my sneakers, flopped down onto the couch and settled in.
For some strange reason, my
attention was caught by an ad in the Classifieds.
CAT FOR SALE
1 YEAR OLD, NEUTERED MALE. VERY FRIENDLY, LOVES PEOPLE. CALL 555-0978 IF INTERESTED.
Come to think of it, having a cat
would be a good idea. It might help me
feel a little better. I've heard that
pets can lower blood pressure and even prolong my life. Cats are said to be low-maintenance, too.
I reached for my cordless, then dialed the
number. A rich baritone answered,
"Hello?"
"Hi, I'm calling about the ad
you placed in the classifieds. Is your
cat still for sale?"
"Yeah, but he's very special to
me. I'd need to meet any potential adoptee
in person."
It seemed a bit silly...after all,
it was only a pet. But I put that aside
for the moment. "Okay, when can I
set up an appointment?"
"Appointment?" The man on
the other end laughed. "Pfft. I get enough of those at work. I live in Juuban Heights, penthouse
suite."
"Nice place. A friend of mine lives there. What time may I come?"
"Now is good."
"Ooo..kay...see you in a few
minutes." I hung up the phone, and
shook my head. The cat's owner must
have been some kind of weirdo. Oh
well...if I got a cat out of the deal, it would be worth it...right? I put my sneakers back on and drove to
Juuban Heights. Mamoru lives there with
Usagi and their cat, Luna, so I know the place pretty well.
As I walked into the apartment, the
doorman, Ichi, greeted me. "Hi,
Miss A. Tell the Chibas I said hello,
will you?"
I shook my head. "I would if I
were going up to see them. This person
lives in the penthouse."
"Ah, Kunzite. Tell him I said hello, then."
"I will, Ichi. Ja ne!" That being said, I walked in and took the elevator up to the
penthouse suite. As the numbers on top
showed the elevator's ascent, I wondered what kind of person lived there. Surely someone wealthy enough to live in the
penthouse would be able to afford pet care.
Even a few vet bills wouldn't faze them - I happen to be familiar with
the price of the rent. Mamoru and Usagi
said they would live there, but despite Mamoru's impressive wealth, they didn't
want to pay the high cost of rent. I
smiled to myself. Mamoru is such a
tightwad.
I knocked on the door, expecting to
meet a nutty old man. I twirled a
strand of hair and waited, hoping to get this over with quickly. My experiences with elderly men have been
less than pleasant.
Instead of an old coot, a gorgeous,
godlike man answered the door. My jaw
almost dropped to the floor. I work
with male models, but they all paled in comparison to this guy. I mean...he
was...unbelievable. He wore a white
undershirt over a pair of jeans, which accented his triangular build. I almost wished the shirt were off...what
was underneath must be incredible. His
hair was shoulder length and platinum, and I guessed that it would be like silk
to the touch. His eyes were an icy,
pale shade of blue, almost like a winter sky.
"Um...hi. Are you
Kunzite?"
"Yes, that would be me. How can I help you?"
"I'm here about the cat."
"Okay, come in then." He made a sweeping gesture and opened the
door wider.
I looked at him briefly before
entering the penthouse. Everywhere I
looked, I saw boxes of all shapes and sizes.
It was if his whole life was being packed up and shipped off. "Are you moving?" I asked.
"Yeah. The apartment that I'm moving to doesn't
allow pets."
"Ah. Why would you want to move though? This place is great."
"I dunno...I guess I felt like
it was time. I was getting sick of the
place."
"Oh, okay."
He gestured towards a series of
medium-sized boxes in the main room.
"Make yourself at home," he said with a lopsided grin. I sat on top of a box and he sat on another
one.
"Artemis! Here, kitty, kitty!" he called. A small white cat came running into the
room.
I raised my eyebrow. What kind of name for a male cat was
Artemis? Wasn't Artemis a female
goddess? "Why did you name him
Artemis?" I asked.
"He has this funny, crescent
moon-shaped bald spot on his forehead," he explained. "The name 'Artemis' seemed more
masculine than Diana, so it stuck."
I looked a little more closely, and
I had to admit that he was right.
"Ah."
"Well, I seem to be at a
disadvantage. You know my name but I
don't know yours."
"No," I said.
"Excuse me?"
"Sorry," I said, offering
my usual consolation smile, "but I don't date male models."
Bemused, he replied, "Since when
is introducing oneself an invitation to a date? A better response would have been, 'Hi, my name is
so-and-so. Pleased to meet you.'"
I rolled my eyes. I mean, the man was gorgeous...what else
could he be? "Sorry. My name is Minako Ai-erm…Minako."
He raised an eyebrow. "Just Minako?"
"Yep. Kinda like Cher."
"Ah," he said, but I could
tell by his expression that he wasn't buying it. "Well, Just Minako, what makes you think you can provide a
home for Artemis?"
I clenched my hands, fingernails
digging into my palm. Who the hell did
he think he was, anyways? What a
pompous jackass! "Well, for
starters, I know I can afford any vet bills that come my way. My apartment does allow pets. Besides, who can resist such a cutie?"
I finished, scratching behind Artemis's ears.
"Thanks for the
compliment," he said, smiling.
"Well, he does seem to like you.
Maybe you aren't such a bad match after all."
My nails dug deeper into my palms,
and my body stiffened. I've encountered
his type before. He was the kind of man
who was gorgeous, and knew it. I
work with such air headed morons six days a week. I really hoped I wouldn't be seeing any more of this loser. "What are you charging for
Artemis?"
"Not a thing. I trust that's okay with you?" he
asked.
"Peachy," I mumbled.
"Great! I'll go get his things."
"Thanks," I said
curtly. I waited on the couch as I
listened to the sounds of boxes being opened and rummaged through. "Do you need help carrying these things
to your car?"
"No thanks," I said. "I can manage."
He dropped the load in front of my
feet. "Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"All right, then. I guess everything's settled." I picked up Artemis and placed him on my
shoulder. With the other hand, I grabbed
the cat carrier, which contained everything I would need to care for him except
food and litter.
"Yep," he said. He looked reluctant to end our
encounter.
He looked into my eyes, like he
wanted to say something more. I
wondered what he could have possibly been looking at...I was still in
"disguise," and I knew I had to be at least a little unkempt. "Well, I guess I'll be going now. Nice meeting you," I said, even though
I was completely insincere.
I was still fuming as I dragged the
cat carrier over to the elevator. The
cat purred happily on my shoulder; he really was a sweetheart. Too bad his former owner had to be such a
jerk. I would be very happy if I never
saw Kunzite again.