Hey everyone, I am LITERALLY too old to be on this website but whatever I guess. I also watch too many Asian dramas but also, whatever I guess.
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Kanda could hear chaos backstage without even having stepped inside. "Guys, listen okay, so we have 10 minutes before the show and Kanda hasn't even shown up for make up yet. Does anyone know where he went? Has anyone seen him?" Reever, everyone's favourite stage manager, was yelling at us already and it wasn't even 9 AM yet. "Seriously!" He threw his headset on the ground. "He's supposed to be closing, where the FUCK is he?" The models murmured amongst themselves. A redhead clad in this season's Philip Lim spring summer garb spoke up, "Reever, dude, he'll be here, chill."
Reever stomped over to the redhead, "Lavi, how do you expect me to CALM DOWN HE HASN'T EVEN SHOWN UP FOR MAKE UP. MAKE UP."
"I'm here I'm here calm the fuck down, damn, you're gonna give yourself a heart attack." Kanda sauntered in scratching his head.
Reever sighed in relief. "Look, Kanda, I know everyone's trying to cast you from Armani to Prada but can't you seriously just show up to the important shows on time?" Kanda shrugged in response and sat down to get his hair and make up done.
"It's not like I'm opening, I don't need to be here that early."
Reever rolled his eyes, "you are such an ass Kanda Yuu." Before hurrying off to usher the openers to line up and get ready to walk. Kanda walked over to his assigned makeup counter and sat down, the makeup artist threw a smock over his clothes.
Lavi walked up to Kanda and slapped him on the back, causing the makeup artist to accidentally smudge a little too much concealer on Kanda's left cheek. "I told him you'd be here man. He chewed me out. You're lucky though; I'm walking like 3 outfits for this show. I knew you'd get something good but closing? I'm impressed." The makeup artist apologized profusely when Kanda grumbled and tried to even it out as much as she could with what little time she had.
"I know you're jealous, Lavi." Kanda side eyed him from the mirror. "But could you try to keep your dick in your pants?"
Lavi laughed. "Okay mister everyone's-in-love-with-me lets not blow our ego's too out of proportion. How long have we known each other? Fucking you'd be like fucking a brother. And that's a lil too messed up for me."
"I find it hard to believe that anything would be a little too messed up for you, Lavi. Especially since I saw that you were with that…" Kanda looked up to try and remember, effectively causing the makeup artist to accidentally swipe a little lip stain on his chin. She scrambled to wipe it off before it stained his skin. "That old lady you know who I'm talking about, the editor of that magazine, what was her name? I didn't know you were into hags."
"Miranda?"
Kanda snapped his fingers. "Yes that's the one, that magazine editor-in-chief. She's so fucking old, how'd you even get it up?"
"She's not that old come on." Kanda snickered. "Damn, still mean as ever." Lavi spotted Reever gesturing him to come over from the corner of his eye. "Shit, I gotta go. Don't fall dude." Lavi ran off leaving Kanda to sit and stare at his own reflection and ponder last night's events.
Why did Tyki Mikk sound so familiar to him all the sudden? It didn't matter. He was trying to quell thoughts of last night because the more he thought about it the more it sounded like he got raped which made him feel like a little bitch and Kanda would die before he had himself feel like a bitch let me tell you. "Son of a bitch." He muttered under his breath. The makeup artist hurried along, growing more flustered by the second, as Kanda grew visibly more upset upon remembering what happened last night. Finally, he slammed his fist down on the counter causing powder to fly all over his smock and the makeup artist. "Son of a bitch! Are you done yet or do you still need a few years?" He spat angrily at the makeup artist as she scrambled to clean the floor and try in vain to dust powder off his smock. Kanda threw the smock off and went off to dress. "I'm not done with your hair…" the makeup artist mumbled weakly.
Kanda doubted that he could even concentrate on walking properly this show. He couldn't stop thinking about Mikk. And why that name sounded so damn familiar. Who the fuck was Tyki Mikk? Where had he heard that name before? He couldn't remember. Kanda closed the door of the dressing room behind him. Tyki Mikk. Tyki Mikk. He kept feeling like he was on the brink of remembering before feeling defeated again. Kanda began taking clothes off the hangers and dressing. He'd just finished putting pants on before he heard someone calling his name. He heard his dressing room door open.
"Fancy seeing you again, Kanda."
Kanda whipped his head around to see the man who'd been torturing his thoughts, and his asshole, standing right behind him. "What the fuck are you doing here? Who let you in?" Kanda threw down the shirt he was supposed to be wearing. "Security, there's a fucking rapist in my dressing room!" Tyki grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the room before closing the door again.
"How the fuck did you get in here? Let go of me you sick fuck!" He pulled his arm out of Tyki's grasp violently.
"Kanda, I just wanted to come see you! You don't seem to be very happy to see me." Tyki faked a frown.
"Why the fuck would I be happy to see my rapist? And how'd you get in here?"
"Aw, I think rapist might be a little too strong of a word to use when addressing me." He smiled sweetly and gently touched Kanda's face. The angry model slapped his hand away like a fly.
"Answer me Mikk. How. Did. You. Get. In. Here. I'll fucking wring your neck faster than you can say Theyskens Theory."
"Alright, alright," The intruder backed up, hands in the air in defeat. "I got in with this." He waved a pass in his face, which read "Media".
Kanda looked shocked. "Yeah right, like you're with some magazine." He scoffed. There was no way Tyki was-
Kanda's brain clicked.
Wait.
Tyki Mikk.
Tyki Mikk.
TYKI MIKK.
He was only the editor-in-chief of the biggest fashion magazine in print right now, The Millennium, Kanda had been lucky enough to be on the cover this season for spring summer, he could even remember he was wearing a Givenchy top and shorts with a pair of Rick Owens Sneakers. Holy shit, realization was crashing down on Kanda faster than Versace for H&M sold out the day it was released in stores. And he called him a rapist. And a sick fuck. And…
Tyki began to approach him again and Kanda prepared to defend himself from another sexual assult as the other man raised his hand toward him. The taller man ran his fingers through Kanda's hair and sighed. The door slammed open.
"Oh! Tyki, I see you've found Kanda!" Reever was standing in the doorway looking surprised. Tyki had miraculously teleported a few feet away from the model. Reever eyed the two suspiciously. "He's closing for Philip Lim today."
"Yes, very fitting. I just wanted to congratulate him." Tyki eyed Kanda hungrily. The half dressed man shuddered upon feeling his gaze.
"You're not watching the show?" Reever asked dumbly.
Obviously not, duh, he was backstage. The show had started for at least 15 minutes already. Kanda thought to himself. "Thanks Mikk, but I don't need your congratulations, now if you guys could kindly get the fuck out and let me dress that'd be swell."
Reever jumped a little and began to apologize. "Oh, Kanda! I'm sorry, come on Mr. Mikk, let's go. I apologize for Kanda's behavior, he's not always like this."
Kanda shoved them out of the makeshift room. "Yes I am, now get the fuck out." And slammed the door barely missing their noses.
Kanda could hear Reever apologizing to that damned man outside. "No need to apologize Mr. Reever! I shouldn't have bothered him." He could hear that fucking creep's smile as he said this. Ugh, the thought of that guy made him want to puke. That wasn't Tyki Mikk. That wasn't THE Tyki Mikk who was supposed to be editor-in-chief of The Millennium. How could he have been THE Tyki Mikk? He didn't seem like an editor-in-chief, he was a creep. And a rapist. And a sick fuck. Kanda heard his door crack open as he threw his top on, "Kanda, it was really nice to see you today. I think I'll be seeing you again later this afternoon."
Kanda threw a shoe at the door just as it closed. Fuck! What a fucking creep! What was wrong with people these days? Can't they just keep it in their pants? It's not like Kanda was asking to look like this and have people crawling all over him. He heard a knock on the door and prepared to fight the next person who came in. It was only a stage boy letting him know it was almost time for him to walk. Kanda huffed and threw the rest of his outfit on before approaching the edge of the catwalk. He breathed deeply and prepared his face to show no other emotion but pure unadulterated confidence, and walked out.
This chapter was so fucking pointless lolol. Whatever if anyone's even reading this there'll be more in the next chapter okkkk.