After the three returned to the building, Len and Rin returned to their rooms, after Rin had wished Luka goodnight. Their fair share of arguing was done for the night, with the male as the winner, albeit that was debatable. They both found out a long time ago that getting the last word more often than not didn't mean jack shit.
The girl also looked like she wanted to say something to Luka, but probably didn't because Len was there. Knowing her, it was going to be emotionally complex girl stuff.
The light air conditioning-caused breeze hit the teen's face as he strode toward entrance of his room on the second floor. The building was something like a small apartment complex: it had three stories. The ground level was where the lobby, kitchen, and dining areas were, and the other two were reserved for the very spacious rooms they got (And by spacious, it was that the rooms were way too big for only one person). There were only three actual personal rooms on each of the second and third floors, the other entries leading to storage and god-knows-what.
It was nice, though Len thought it felt empty. It was almost like they gave them an underwhelmingly basic hotel.
Entering the disorganized room, the blonde crashed onto the couch. Len buried his face into the cold fabric of a throw cushion, letting his muscles relax while he closed his eyes. He took in the fresh smell of dorm room as his cheeks rested on the texture of smooth cotton pillow casing. He would never show it in the studio, but he was kind of worn out.
...Not "tired". "Tired" was his polar opposite. "Tired" was weak. "Tired" was...lame.
Len wasn't intent on falling asleep, just getting a small rest before eating his banana. He knew Luka went to the kitchen to attain the requested fruit. All the while, he imagined how her eyes would scan its outer layer, making sure it was perfectly yellow with no brown spots. Just as he liked it, and no other way.
Right on cue, he heard a soft knock at the door.
"It's open," Len called out, shooting up in his seat quickly. Bad idea. He tried to stifle the wince coming onto his face as blood rushed to his head.
Luka opened the door and held up the banana. Len's eyes immediately lit up at the sight, his excitement resembling an overactive puppy. If he still weren't feeling so lightheaded, he probably would have dashed over there as if she were holding 20 bucks in her hand.
Luka walked over and gave him the banana, staying quiet.
Len held it in his grasp, holding it up against the light above him. After evaluating and approving of the quality of the fruit with the eye of a hawk that really, really liked bananas, he said, "It's good enough. I guess I'll start eating now."
She stood there.
Silent.
Patient.
Waiting.
Being all prim and Luka-like.
...
Her pupils were impaling him.
Does she have to do this.
The duo remained like that for a little bit before Len sighed, rolling his eyes. "Th...Thank you," he mumbled. "Now stop looking at me like that." It was seriously getting creepy.
A gentle smile formed on her face as her strict disposition dissolved. "You're welcome."
It's like she's my mother. Len tried to block out the weird image forming in his head.
Her satisfied expression did not falter. "Please eat now. I'll take my leave." She began to walk away just as he was starting to peel his favored fruit. "Goodnight, Len."
"Wait." Luka stopped. Len took his first bite of the banana (This is a godsend.) and continued after swallowing. "We're not going to the studio tomorrow. It's a CMH day."
A nod. "Ah."
He scoffed. "What a pain."
What Len was referring to, a "CMH day," was a day basically dedicated to three and only three things: costumes, makeup, and hair. It also gave other committees time to fulfill their tasks, whether it was designing sets, testing out lighting and special effects, and programming in beatmaps for already completed songs. It happened about once a month, and they were very tedious. It was necessary to make development efficient, but with all of the poking and prodding and tailoring, it got redundant for them fast. And it went on for an entire work day, which was roughly around 9 hours, sometimes even more.
"Yes, it can be tiring," Luka agreed.
Len knew they moved around a lot more on days where they just worked on choreography, but doing that was at least fun. Trying on clothes and keeping up with appearances and all of that was fine, but one could argue that they all walked in and out of dressing rooms multiple times more than the average person should in a lifetime.
"Thank you for telling me. Is that all?"
"Yeah." The male waved his hand dismissively.
A pause. "Goodbye, then."
Another pause. "Bye."
Luka exited.
The next day went just as expected, with frazzled hair stylists, tailors, and cosmetics people scurrying about the premises of the department. The workers were quite an efficient bunch, rarely making errors in their schedules. Their swift measurement-taking, adjusting, jotting down notes for future reference, the "Turn your head this way, please," all of it went so smoothly that it almost seemed like the entire thing had been rehearsed, refined down to a T. To Len, it was eerie how good they were at their jobs.
Nevertheless, even after several hours of this had passed, the list of outfits to feel uncomfortable in, liquids to put in their hair, and makeup to be caked onto their faces barely had a dent in it.
"We're kind of like dolls, aren't we?" It was disturbing how happy Rin had sounded when she made this claim.
Thankfully, there was an hour and a half break for lunch. They had so much time to eat simply because of how many people were involved with the project, and even then some people didn't get to have lunch. Or just chose not to. Usually, the six of them would go back to their residential building and eat the lunches provided by the company.
Like an off-the-wall family, Len thought. It was less troublesome than having to go on wild goose chases trying to regroup, at the very least. Even if he was pretty sure half of them hated his presence.
Today was no different. It was routine for Luka to pick up Miku, Rin, and Len, and then the group met up with Kaito and Meiko in the other building. Luka picked up Len first, then Rin, and afterward Miku. The woman had always followed through with that order, due to the way their sections were split up, She only had to walk in a straight line down because their dressing rooms were ordered by Vocaloid number—the numbers displayed on their bodies (Rin went before Len despite being "02" as well.).
It worked out well. Having Len picked up first, it was a requirement that Luka had to meet... Which was to say, he liked it.
Len looked into the mirror of the dressing room, hair done in that usual "cute-messy" style that was basically trademark for him at this point. He wore a white button-down shirt with a small black vest and a golden tie. Dark slacks, shirt cuffs, shoes, and a single fingerless glove matched the vest.
Blue optics scanned the reflection, taking in every crease of satin, smooth cloth, every lock of blonde hair, and the general lack of imperfections in his appearance. Stylish, self-assured, and striking. As always, obviously. There was no room for objections.
Content, the boy flashed a quick smirk at the mirror and went out the door. Luka was waiting for him there.
"I'm wearing this to lunch," he declared idly. "What do you think?" Len was positive she knew how sharp he looked. The module designers never disappointed, and this was no exception.
The female noiselessly sized him up (Like she needs to.) and smiled.
And then...
Luka knelt down with one knee on the floor, taking his hand and looking up at him. "You look fetching, my prince." Luka chuckled, fully aware—almost relishing, it seemed like—of the most flabbergasted look the boy was giving her then. "Cool, even."
She was probably thinking something along the lines of, I can spoil him a little bit, right? God damn, he knew it. She was humoring him.
Cool? Len asked this of himself still, and felt a pink blush coloring his face. Embarrassment. "O-of course." He looked away. Shit. How could she possibly think he was cool, especially acting like this now.
That was the first time she had ever done anything like that, also being the first time she called him by that nickname. For some reason, it didn't sound condescending like the project staff intended it to be when they conjured it up (or they just came up with that because they couldn't call him an overbearing twerp).
It was hard trying not to think about how nice her grasp felt while wanting to appreciate how warm her hand was.
The module I described Len wearing near the end of this chapter is the Blue Moon module, from "Kodoku No Hate".
Welp, I realized too late that the module I described Len wearing in this chapter is from Extend, not from F/F 2nd. Ah well. No big. If I'm lucky, it's an unlockable in one of those games. But if not, I think I'll just go with that the outfit ended up being cut out.
I thought it would be interesting to delve into more of what the Vocaloids' game production lifestyle is like in this chapter. I just hope the explanations weren't too boring.
I've decided that each chapter will alternate which perspective it's told in. Obviously, the first chapter was told in Luka's, and this one in Len's. There will be little snippets of the other's thoughts in the middle of those, probably, those segments being separated with horizontal lines.
I figured that this method would make the way their characters are structured more clear, especially on Len's part. Because I've said it before and I'll say it now. I do not want to screw up with Len's characterization. Plus, this chapter got kind of monotonous when I initially wrote it with Luka's POV.
And hoooly fucking crap it's three in the morning. Ha ha. Goodnight.
P.S. Okay, writing this part of my author's mind dump not at three in the morning (Arguably just as tired, though.).
Blugh. I've realized recently that I'm much more of a "feelings" writer than an imagery writer. Tried to work with some of the senses on this chapter, because no matter how good I am with writing emotions and thoughts, it's eventually going to end up sounding like it's just rambling. Gah. I shall improve, eventually!