Koko/Chanel No.5/"I'm not a fashion designer!"
"I'm not a fashion designer!"
"But your name is Coco!"
"No, it's Koko!"
-Winter's Melancholy
I do not own GA, Chanel, and Wikipedia (I quoted it).
'Koko' Chanel
by Autumn Win-Dow
As soon as he caught sight of the thick white sheets in front of him, he immediately dropped his suitcase and dove into the goose feather doona. He instantly found refuge in the soft texture of the fabric, and slowly his sore muscles from the seven hour flight started to loosen.
"I'm never going to take a plane again..." He groaned underneath his breath, recalling the overtly flirtatious flight attendant and the odorous and aggressively loud old man beside him on the plane.
Unfortunately, his words held no weight, because he was only due to stay in Japan for a month, and would soon need to return to Australia in order to resume his work in international relations.
As soon as his eyes were finally drifting shut, the uncomfortably awkward vibrating of his phone in his back pocket alerted him, and he knew that he had to receive the call since only one person knew his number - and that one person was someone of whom he had no position or right to mess with.
"Yes, Mom?"
"Is your plane going to leave soon, Koko?"
"...I'm in Japan, Mom."
A deafening shriek was heard from the other side of the call, and Koko could only wince.
"You're already here?! I- I-"
"I told you that I'd be arriving on the twenty-fourth!"
"No, you didn't, you said that you'd be arriving on Tuesday!"
"It is Tuesday."
"No, that can't- oh my gosh, you're right! Quick, we have to prepare, Koko's already here, and he'll be visiting at six tonight, call everyone!"
"Actually, would it be okay if I could sleep-"
"We've planned your visit for five, tonight. Be there!"
"But I heard you say six-"
His words were futile, as his excited mother had hung up the phone soon enough.
Sumire's concentration was settled wholly on her phone as she silently complained to her best friend about how conversations between middle aged adults induced such boredom and ridicule, as well as what she really wanted for Christmas - and as always, it was something which her parents would certainly not give her.
She had had her eyes on a certain bottle of perfume - Chanel No. 5 - and she was adamant to become the proud new owner of a bottle before the year's end. However, no matter how many pairs of puppy dog eyes she would give her father or how many dishes she voluntarily washed for her mother, it was almost a hopeless cause, and she finally resorted to ranting about her materialistic distress.
What's so special about it, though?
How dare you ask such a thing? It was the first perfume by the Parisian couturier Gabrielle "Coco" Chanel!
It sounds like you copy-pasted a topic sentence from its Wikipedia article.
...Fine, I did, but it's on Wikipedia, and that says something!
She continued to emphasise to Wakako the underappreciated grandeur of Chanel No. 5, until she allowed herself to overhear the conversation of the adults around her.
Or rather, a phone call her mother's friend was currently engaged in.
"Is your plane going to leave soon, Koko?"
Sumire's head perked up instantaneously at the mentioning of the famous couturier's equally as famous nickname. Coco? She knows her?
"You're already here?! I- I- ... No, you didn't, you said that you'd be arriving on Tuesday! No, that can't-" Mrs. Yome turned to the calendar on the wall and gasped. "Oh my gosh, you're right!"
The panicky woman brought the phone away from her ear and called up all of her servants in a brisk fervor. "Quick, we have to prepare..."
Sumire slowly became immersed in her own thoughts, in particular the shock of realizing that Mrs. Yome knew the famous woman, and that she was due to arrive that same day. Immediately, she was adamant on grasping this rare opportunity of meeting her - she was certain that it was her, because she would not believe there to be anyone else in the world with an extravagant, chic name like 'Coco', especially if it was a birth name.
She snapped out of her reverie when Mrs. Yome hung up the phone and turned to face Sumire's family.
"I would like to introduce you to Koko, so would you like to stay for dinner?"
Sumire, for the forty second time, had confirmed that everything she had on that night was strictly and genuinely from a designer brand.
Her mission was to charm Coco with her flawless socializing skills, and what she aimed for by the end of the night was the much coveted bottle of Chanel No. 5, as well as a strengthened, future profiting relationship with the couturier.
When she arrived at Mrs. Yome's house for the second time that day, she continually zoned out of the older adults' conversations, as she without shame formed imaginative reconstructions of her future meeting with Coco. Most were positive, some of average, and here and there would be the not so great encounters which she had learnt to ignore, since she was confident in her charming skills.
She stared at the door for what seemed to be an hour, until the sound of the doorbell jolted her back into physical reality.
"You seem busy, Mrs. Yome, so I'll answer." Sumire immediately spoke without a glance at her subject of address, and before anyone could speak up, she dashed towards the door.
Sumire had certainly expected a woman of chic fashion sense and an air of class when she opened the door after a deep breath.
Not at all was she imagining a sandy haired man in a dress shirt and trousers.
A brief silence ensued, as they stared at each other questioningly.
Koko was the one to break the silence. "Have I got the right house? I mean, I haven't been home in ages, and I can only vaguely remember..."
"Where's Coco?" Sumire could not help but sputter, fearing the worst.
It couldn't be...
The man raised an eyebrow and slowly pointed to himself. "I'm Koko. And it seems I've got the right house. Is my mother in?"
Coco... is Mrs. Yome's son.
"...Are you a fashion designer?"
"I have no sense in that whatsoever. I'm a lawyer, currently working in Australia."
"Wait, but isn't your name Coco?"
"Yes, it's Koko. Why?"
Sumire could not recall a single moment in her life which could barely rival the embarrassment she was feeling at that moment.
Koko, on the other hand, was amused, since he came to the realization as to why the pretty woman in front of him seemed so confused.
"Wait, you thought I was the fashion designer, Coco Chanel?"
Damn him for knowing who Coco really is.
I tried, okay. It's probably not as funny as I intended it to be. I was prompted by one of the chapters in It Comes In Threes by The Placeholder One-derdogs, specifically by Winter's Melancholy. The inspiring chapter is above.