Star One: La Nuit

Click. Click. Click.

"Okay, Okay… Great! Now, could you turn your head to the right a little bit… Chin up? Really accentuate the scarf, 'cause baby it works really well on you!"

Click. Click. Click.

Monotony.

The days continued to drag on and on in a much similar and non changing fashion as every other. The glare of the fluorescent lights beaming down from all angles… the glare of said lights from the focused lenses of the cameras. There were the usual sets, props made specifically for one ad, or one poster, never to be used again. The photographers were seldom the same, but the words that flowed forth from them all seemed to drag together like an incessant babble. Did they really think he DIDN'T know he needed to turn his head that way to catch the light? Did they really think he DIDN'T know which colors best accentuated his crimson tresses? Every day was more of the same, and this job had lost much of its thrill… A fact which gnawed upon his mind whenever it could find the chance.

"Okay. We're done. I think these will be PERFECT. La Nuit, thank you so much for letting us use you for our new line… Of course, no one will look as stunning in it as you do!" the photographer crooned, lifting his thick sunglasses slightly and flashing a brilliant smile -- brilliantly false.

The money soon to be rolling in was, of course, the source of this photographer's elation.

"It's no problem. I do hope that everything goes well for you. Now, if you'll excuse me… I have things I need to take care of…"

"Of course, of course! Oh, hey! Don't forget our gifts in your dressing room!"

His head did not turn back as he waved a pallid and slender hand over his own shoulder, then using it to move the crimson tresses escaping into his eyes back in to place behind his ears. Gifts… Yes, yes. Yet another one of those annoying rules of thumb. Gifts for the model are a must. How else would you convince them to come back to you? Of course, most of them didn't seem to understand that their agents truly governed their schedules.

He shook his head at the thought and slowly opened his dressing room door. He slipped the scarf he had been wearing off with a quick movement, and then shrugged the beige and thin suede jacket from his shoulders.

"Hey, Shu. You did really great out there."

Shuichi lifted his brilliantly emerald eyes from the jacket he was draping over the back of a chair to the man stretched out on the couch toward the side of the room. Shuichi noted his long and disheveled ebon tresses almost immediately, as they were loose from the usually taut ponytail he kept them in.

"I know I did." Was his simple and dry response as he took a seat in the chair he had draped his jacket upon, glancing over at the mirror to regard his own tired face. The signs of his lack of sleep were hidden almost completely beneath the perfectly applied layers of makeup which were a necessity for anyone working under such stress and such hot lights. His crimson hair was still slightly frizzed from removing the scarf, and he quickly took a moment to repair that with his hands.

A brow was raised in his direction, "Well that was more smug than usual."

"It wasn't intended to be 'smug'… It's just the usual. The response is never any different." Murmured the red head softly and dryly, leaning back and shutting his eyes.

"Would you rather they hated you?"

"Well that would be something different."

A laugh was the only reply he received for a long moment. This man was his agent, and they seemed to have something of a distant relationship. Shuichi liked the man well enough-- he was not some Nazi bent on hammering every hour his life into modeling… But he was strict in ways that the agent of a model must be strict upon.

Appearance, appearance, appearance.

… They never had much of a problem with that.

Shuichi had been a looker even since childhood, when his face was still besotted by the round lines of childhood. His emerald eyes were wide, stunning, and full of innocence… They created a contrast with the short and tufty crimson hair of youth. He had been beautiful since he was a baby, and even then as he sat in a small dressing room making thousands of dollars a week with his portraits all over town, he was still the stunning looker he always had been. Nothing had changed save for the typical vestiges of growing older.

His face had, of course, become more slender, his eyes more full and beautiful upon his face. He had dynamite legs, a great body, beautiful long hair, an angel's face, and the women loved him. He was the perfect model, and the perfect looker.

It was no wonder that everyone loved him.

La Nuit had taken his eyes from his agent, and was busy focusing on changing out of his modeling clothes, and in to the clothes he would wear home. He did not mind changing in front of his agent-- it wasn't as though they didn't have the same body parts, after all. He sighed, shrugging on a dark jean jacket over his nice shirt, pulling his crimson locks in to a messy bun on top of his head. With a swift motion, he pulled a black cadet's hat on over his hair, allowing a few of the crimson strands to be visible past the rim. He slipped on a pair of sunglasses, and looked toward his agent with a nod.

"I'll see you tomorrow, alright? I'm glad today was a short day, I'm pretty tired…" He muttered, turning his things off and grabbing his bag from the floor.

His agent had risen to his feet, using his fingers to brush the long ebony strands from before his dark green eyes.

"Yes, well, don't expect it tomorrow… You should probably get some sleep, and try not to spend every night with your boyfriend." He said blandly, walking past Shuu and out of the room, wafting his hand behind himself as La Nuit turned his lips up in to a sneer.

Ugh… That guy was so full of himself!

The redhead shook it off with a toss of his hair, and huffed as he left his room and made his way slowly outside toward the corner where he always waited for his boyfriend, Demitri, to come and pick him up. He sighed, glancing at his watch as the time for him to arrive slowly came.

… And then passed.

He frowned, tapping his foot slightly upon the ground as the minutes continued to tick by like seconds, and still, there was nothing at all. The cars that drove by were not the familiar black Porsche of his boyfriend (which, he would like to note, that HE bought for him), and the time continued to roll away as if it had not a care in the world.

Shuiichi huffed again, pulling out his cell phone forty-five minutes after the time which Demitri was supposed to arrive, and hit his number on the speed dial.

Ring. Ring. Ring. -click-

"Hello?" Asked the familiar voice of his boyfriend from the other line.

"Demitri, where the hell are you? It's three forty five! I told you I was getting off early today, and to come pick me up at three!" The redhead stated, folding his arms and pursing his lips slightly in frustration.

There was a silence on the other line for a moment, before Demitri's voice spoke once again, a slight chuckle being suppressed within his throat.

"Sorry, Shuu-babe… I think you're just gonna have to catch the bus today. ...Okay, forever." He stated in a slightly amused tone.

Shuiichi widened his eyes, leaning back against the lamppost behind himself and staring down at the toes of his own shoes, "Wait… Are you…"

"Breaking up with you? Yeah, something like that." Demitri stated with a sigh of impatience-- apparently he was already in the middle of something.

"But…why..? I haven't done anything wrong…" Shuiichi murmured softly, shutting his eyes and shuddering slightly as his chest began to throb with the usual sensation of… rejection.

"Look, kid, you're a good fuck, a nice face, but you're a bitch. I just don't want to be with you anymore, so get the hell over it. See ya." He stated.

"W-wait, don't hang up o-…" The click deadened Shuiichi's voice before he got much further than that.

The redhead stood in silence for a several minutes, staring at the blinking screen of his cellphone, before slowly sliding it shut and slipping it in to his pocket, eyes focusing on the ground as he set off to walk home. He did not want to risk getting in to a taxi, lest he be recognized by the cabby, and that would certainly be an awkward situation.

He watched his own feet in silence as he followed the usual trek home. He'd have to ask Tricia if his bike had ever gotten back from the shop. He'd be riding it again, tomorrow... Shaking his head, he lifted his gaze proudly from the sidewalk and huffed through his nose.

He didn't need Demitri.

He'd start riding his bike to work like he was supposed to, because the exercise was important.

He'd stop staying up all night to spend it with him.

He'd stop eating so badly when they went on dates together.

He wouldn't have to cover hickeys with makeup every day anymore.

... He wouldn't have anyone to call in the middle of the night when he felt lonely.

... He'd have no one to hold him, kiss him, and tell him he was beautiful– and mean it...

Slowly, he turned his gaze downward once again, index finger twisting in his crimson hair as he mulled over the situation. He felt the pounding of loneliness within his chest, and it caused him to place a hand on his stomach to stop the pain from coming just yet.

Demitri had been the longest boyfriend he had ever had. Of course, it wasn't saying much... One month isn't really all that dramatic a time.

He couldn't understand why Demitri had so suddenly pulled this on him.

He really hadn't done anything wrong!

Sure, he knew he could be a bit clingy, and maybe a little needy... But he certainly wasn't a bitch. He always made sure to give Demitri his space when he wanted it, and he never said no to anything Demitri asked of him.

"Did he... really just think I was a pretty face and a good fuck..?" He asked himself softly, squinting his eyes behind his dark shades and pulling out his cellphone once more.

He slowly hit the second speed-dial on his phone, and stopped at a crosswalk as he waited for the answer.

"'Ello..?" Came the familiar French accent of his maid, Tricia.

"Hey, Tricia... I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to be running late tonight... I'll be home in about an hour."

"But... I zought zat Demitri vould be picking you up again..." She said softly.

Shuichi remained silent, and the woman sighed slowly, "I'm so sorry... 'E ezz such a jerk! I-... Are you okay..? Non, non... Silly Tricia... Ov course not... Do you need me to come and peek you up?" She asked.

"No, no... I'm fine walking... It'll give me some time to think..." He said softly, fiddling with his shades as he crossed the crosswalk slowly, and hopped back up onto the sidewalk with a sigh.

"Vell... You be careful... Alright? Don't get heet by a bus, or somezing silly like zat... I'll make dinner for ven you get here..."

"Alright... Oh, and hey... Did my bike ever come back from the repair place..?" He asked softly, waiting once more at a tiresome crosswalk.

"Oh, jess... Eet iz in ze bike parking next to ze front of ze apartments. Eet just came back... Oh... Mon chou, mon chou... Are you sure you vant to valk home alone..?"

"Yes... It'll be fine... Thank you, though... I'll be there shortly."

"Alright... Goodbye, mon chou."

"Goodbye." He said softly, sliding his phone shut once more.

At least his bike wasn't broken anymore...

Sighing, he made his way into the road, before the screeching of loud breaks caught his attention, and the flash of headlights as a car swerved toward him took him by surprise, a gasp barely having time to pass his lips.