Behind a Camera
HITSUHINA FIC! For billionaire playboy Toshiro Hitsugaya, everything was basically a camera waiting to get a shot of his infamous, dazzling looks, and he saw is life as nothing more. Just money, parties, and the lens of a camera lining up for another shot. But one day, the person behind the camera begins to stand out, when photographer Momo Hinamori comes for a shoot!
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A strikingly beautiful, white-haired, boyish looking man in a white cashmere shirt and expensive looking cargo pants stepped out of his multi-million dollar apartment, which was situated quite nicely in Manhattan. He slammed the mahogany carved door and stormed down the marble stairs to his hot rod red Aston Martin Vanquish, furiously opening the automatically unlocking doors and roaring the engine as soon as he got in. He lay on the horn as a final statement of his fury, and screamed down the street in a cacophony of sounds and smells of screeching, burning rubber against pavement.
Toshiro Hitsugaya had it all. Money (lots and lots of it), talent, and most of all, looks. He had started out early, starring in TV and bulletin board ads for various baby companies. As he became older, the media population began to notice his growing popularity with the girls, and now at twenty years old he had starred in countless movies and had a photo shoot almost every week. He had everything he could ever ask for, and he was the envy of every success in New York.
He hated that.
Five minutes ago
"Hitsugaya, baby, come on! We've got another shoot in 15 minutes, and you're still getting ready! Oh, by the way, your grandmother called, said she wants you to meet someone at a dinner later tonight. Should we reschedule the movie shoot for it? I'm sure we can squeeze it in if we stay for about five minutes and pretend we were there the whole time…" A man in about his forties with a slicked back ponytail, too tight pants, and flamboyant red button-up shirt was rambling into Toshiro's ear as he furiously tried to rub the makeup from his last photo shoot off.
"Sam, shut up." Toshiro snapped.
Sam Marcello, the man in question, caught the words in his throat. He blinked back tears. "Toshiro, baby, what did Sam do to deserve this? Your manager knows best, and you should really consider-"
Toshiro cut him off again. "Scratch the shoots, scratch the movies, I don't care what you have to do. I never get to see Grandma anymore, and I'm freaking sick of these photo shoots!" He threw down the cloth he had been using to try and rub the make up off (in vain) on the floor, frustrated with the make up's seemingly impenetrable forces.
Marcello chose his words with care. "Alright, Toshiro. I'll scratch the movie shoot. But you have to do the photos. They said that tonight's the only night they have their extra photographers on stand-by, otherwise you'll have to do it some other time for four hours." He smirked at Toshiro's frustrated look.
"Fine," he snapped. "I'll do the photos. It's just I'm so sick of having to run from one studio to another all the time. I swear, if one more thing comes up…" suddenly, one of the phones on the armory of phones clipped to Sam's belt vibrated. The manager flipped the phone off his impressive belt with skill only practice could offer, and answered it in a clear, crisp voice.
"Toshiro Hitsugaya's manager, how may I help you?" he listened for several moments, and blanched when the person on the other end finished their offer.
His voice was suddenly croaking. "Erm, Toshiro, baby, this lady here wants you to do…a pho-" he squeaked when Toshiro grabbed the doomed cell phone from his hand and threw it out the window. His eyes told the story, accompanied by an impressive death glare. One shoot tonight, that's all. Then leave me alone with Grandma!
Sam nodded furiously as Toshiro stalked out the room. When he was sure he was gone, the poor man leaped out the window to save his phone, thanking god that Toshiro's apartment was multi-floored and that they happened to be on the second floor.
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Toshiro silently fumed as he carelessly drove through the glitzy streets of the Big Apple. All I want is a day without another freaking camera lens in my face! He continued to banter in his mind, cursing the fact that he knew if he didn't do this photo shoot tonight, he'd regret it later on.
The young billionaire soon pulled up to the studio, which was in a nice spot in the Soho District. He slammed the car doors shut, walking up to a lady in a hot pink business suit waiting patiently for him, a drink in hand.
"Mr. Hitsugaya," she chimed, "thank you so much for coming. We'll try to get you through this as quick as possible, we know how much you hate these things. A drink for the kind sir?" she held out the glass, which had cold condensation running down the sides, filled to the brim with sugary Pepsi and topped off with an intricately carved lemon twist on the rim.
Toshiro ignored the enticing beverage. He'd had it a million times anyway, seeing as they figured since it was his favorite drink he'd want it. Every. Single. Shoot. "No thanks. Just get me out of here as quick as possible, okay?" He walked past her, ignoring her light chit-chat as he made his way up through the building. It was all part of her contract to talk to him anyway.
Toshiro burst through the double doors that led into the studio with the lady trailing behind him, into a room filled with people bustling to do this and that to prepare for his arrival. Heads turned in his direction, a few girls sighed, and everyone returned to their assignments.
"Hitsugaya!" a voice rang out, "Just the man I want to see! Come on over, we'll start getting you ready." A man with bushy mouse brown hair and a mustache to match beckoned to him. Toshiro made his way easily to him despite the crowd, for every employee in the place timidly backed away from him as he approached as if they even brushed a finger on his shirt they'd have their heads lopped off.
"Charlie, good to see you." Toshiro's mood brightened by a quantum degree as he greeted the man. This photographer was probably his favorite, because he got the shots he wanted quickly and without too much instruction on the model's part.
Charlie smiled, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling easily with the laugh lines etched into it. "Sorry, Toshiro, but I'm just here to set up. My assistant will be the one getting you ready and taking the shots today." He gestured at a young girl with her back to them setting up a tripod. "Oi! Hinamori! Get Toshiro ready for the shoot, and we'll begin shortly."
The girl didn't even glance back. "One moment, Charlie. I'll be right there, Mr. Hitsugaya. You can make your way to the room while you wait." Charlie shrugged, and Toshiro stepped through into a room that was fully equipped for making models beautiful and relaxed. A frightening amount of beauty products lined the walls, but Toshiro ignored them also. I've been here too many times. He thought as he settled down in a chair and leaned back, closing his eyes.
He heard the voice of the new assistant and another person, a man, he thought, as they came in. He didn't bother to open his eyes, too tired to try. "Good afternoon, Mr. Hitsugaya. Just relax. We'll have you ready in no time." For some reason, Toshiro found this girl's voice to be very relaxing. It reminded him of a lone, sorrowfully beautiful flute in the racket of noise of the world. His eyebrows, for once, relaxed as the girl massaged his head while the other person tweaked his hair and added more make-up. He sighed. More make-up. He thought bitterly. However, the girl's touch was so calming that he soon found himself drifting off.
The young celebrity was jolted awake some time later, his hair and make-up finished. A man was standing in front of him, adding last minute touches. He spoke as he concentrated on Toshiro's white locks. "Alright, Mr. Hitsugaya, you can go over and change. Hinamori'll probably be ready for you by then, she's out setting up now."
Toshiro nodded and walked over to the dressing room, where he found a shirt similar to the ones he now wore and dark, stylish jeans waiting for him. He dressed quickly and walked out into the studio, standing in front of the plain white background and bright flood lights concentrated on him. He squinted and saw a girl with brown hair behind a camera so large he couldn't see her face already snapping pictures. Startled, he composed himself and for a millionth time, looked into the aperture of the thing he hated so passionately, and posed.
The photo shoot, as it turned out, wasn't as bad as most. The Hinamori girl or whatever her name was did a quick and painless job, taking 10 pictures and second and only asking him to change his pose occasionally in that relaxing, enchanting voice of hers. When she did ask something of him, it was reasonable and easy to comply to. Nonetheless, it was still an hour of staring into a lens, an hour that Toshiro had to bear through like he was getting teeth pulled. It was just the mere fact that he had to look into another camera that made it so…unbearable. He stared at the hated device, studying how the light reflected off the glass and how the slender, delicate fingers of the assistant skillfully manipulated the complicate lens. And all this while, the young billionaire thought of how much he hated every flash, every click.
Finally, after looking so long at the thing he despised most in the world, the Hinamori girl held up her hand, taking last minute pictures as she spoke. "Thank you very much, Mr. Hitsugaya. The magazine will definitely appreciate these shots." She finished up and lowered the camera, finally revealing her face from behind it. Toshiro froze. She smiled sweetly at him before turning around and taking the monstrous instrument to the back of the room.
As she turned, Hitsugaya stared after her and switched his gaze to a mirror that reflected that lovely, stunning, captivating, simple beautiful face. The girl nonchalantly spoke with Charlie, showing him a few pictures on the screen, never looking up.
And Toshiro Hitsugaya's world came crashing down on him, as he stood paralyzed from the glance of the face that had done it. The face behind a camera that he despised so much that had hidden it for so long.
The face of that Hinamori girl. Momo Hinamori.
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REALLY IMPORTANT NOTE!! (Later added): Awrite y'all this stories given me a nice surprise after the second day. There's over 200 hits! *does the dance* however, lotta yall just favorite or alert it and don't review. As much as I appreciate the faves and alerts, PLEASE FOR MY OWN HEALTH (and possibly yours), REVIEW!!! People dont realize how special they are to me :3 One or two words is cool! I just need to know what people think! ;D And do go on to the next chapter, I'm rather proud of it ^^
Hope you enjoyed reading! Please read an review! I'm not sure if I'll do anything with this, it's really more of a oneshot, but if enough reviews come in I might elaborate. Thanks for reading! =DD
**Note later added: Muhahaha take that Gchan I found new words for camera! ;DDD
