Lights. Camera. Act – RING!

Naruto's PoV

I slammed my fist down on the alarm clock, then figuring out that it wasn't the alarm clock ringing, but my phone. And it was the business tone. I groaned, answering the call.

"Yeah, the hell do you want, boss?" I growled, turning onto my stomach and nestling my head into the soft, feather-like pillow.

"I told you that you could call me Iruka, eh?" Iruka answered.

I could literally hear his kindness from the other.

"I can't do that, boss," I replied, sleep slowly drifting away from my tired soul. "So, there must be a reason why my boss is calling me in, let's see, one in the morning?"

Iruka's laughter was heard. "I guess so. Someone wanted to keep you for himself, as a makeup artist, of course, so you're being excused for today and the rest of your life until he calls."

I massaged the bridge of my nose, "Yah, and who is this jerk, keeping me from getting money?"

"I can't say. He won't allow. But you'll be paid as usual by him every day." Iruka informed. "Now if you'll excuse me, I going back to sleep again."

The call ended, and I shut my phone. The hell is wrong with these famous hot shots today? I attempted to fall back to sleep, but to no avail…

"Was that a call from Iruka?" My brother peeked at me.

I nodded, "I got a hardcore client who is a kinda like a stalker. Kurama, how's your job going?"

"Not bad. I say, the restaurant is better with me!" He shot me a smug grin, before closing his eyes, and settling back into sleep.

I sighed. It was impossible for me to fall back asleep. Who was this client? Was it anybody I knew? A famous guy? A perverted author (hint, hint, Jiraiya)? A creepy quiet guy? I guess I had dark circles around my eyes when it was five.

Kurama was up and moving, ready for his morning shift in the restaurant. The restaurant was fixed into a luxury hotel, so breakfast was essential.

"Hey, Kyuu. How long is your shift?" I asked, rubbing my eyes as I poured myself a glass of milk.

He pondered for a bit before answering. "I'm staying until after the evening shift. Then I'm going to the bar…"

I nodded, feeling a bit lonely that today he wasn't free. It was a Friday, after all. The busiest time for the restaurant, and the bar. It was my day off, so I would be lonely.

"Go whip up some food for lunch and dinner with your angel magic. I not coming till late." With that Kurama left me alone, in the middle of our studio.

I sighed. My jobs weren't as busy as him. Since I was excused from being a makeup artist today, I still have my job at the bookstore and the café. The bookstore shift was from three to five, and the café from five-thirty to seven. I worked the morning shift for my makeup job, but since I got a sturdy client, I was going to have to flexible.

It was six now, and I was sipping on the leftovers of the ramen.

"I guess I could go out for some groceries… we are running low…" I thought.

The day zipped past like lightning. I went shopping, cleaned our tiny studio, ate lunch, went to work, rested, went to work, and I was currently walking home. I was running a bit behind schedule, but that was fine. It was a fifteen minute walk from the café to the apartment, and it was seven-thirty already.

I strolled along the road, rocking around with music plugged into me.

A hand shot out.

And covered my mouth. And pulled me into a limousine.

Wait. A limousine?!

I was allowed to breathe once I was safely secured to the seat. Silver hair was the first thing that caught my attention. I was about to scream when the man put his index finger to his mouth. A scarf was circling around his neck (although it was still fall), but he looked oddly familiar.

My mouth hung open.

"Mr – Mr. Hatake! What are you doing?" I instantly started scolding the man. "I was about to cook dinner for my brother! What are you doing? I would have gotten in even if you haven't done that! Why are you doing this? I do not have any connection with you anymore – "

Uchiha Sasuke's manage cut me off. "Well, just calm down for a second. Our precious brat was begging for you so I decided to make him feel better. He's inviting you for dinner."

"I'm not going! What if my brother gets worried when I don't come home?" I snarled, trying to undo the seatbelt.

"It's impossible to undo the seatbelt. It's locked. And I have the key." I could see the smirk below the scarf. "And if you escape from the restaurant, you wouldn't know where you are. So it's useless."

I gasped, "You planned this."

I heard the light chuckle of the manager. "Yeah, well, for now, you can just care about calling me Kakashi, and not Mr. Hatake. Would you work on that? I'm kind of embarrassed that you call me Mr. Hatake."

I gulped. What was he trying to pull?

Yet, I grinned. "That's fine! Since I have no connection with you anymore, I'll do just that! So, Kakashi, could you tell me why Mr. Uchiha is itching for me?"

"Well, I don't know actually. He was mumbling about a blond, so I thought you…"

My eyebrow twitched. Does that mean he isn't sure that it's me that Mr. Uchiha wants to see? I could have fainted at the spot, but the limousine was pulled to a stop, and I was unlocked from the seat.

The restaurant rested in a hotel (A/N: do you know what this means? *Smirk*), and was too fancy for the likes of me to go in. I glanced down at my clothes. An orange and black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Black cargo pants and worn out sneakers.

"Uh, Kakashi, shouldn't I change into something more suited for this situation?" I whispered as I walked into the hotel, and into the direction of the elevator.

The restaurant was upstairs, I see.

I could feel all eyes one me, the poor, and hear the snickering.

"Ignore them. Sasuke wants you to be yourself tonight. I'll tell them off if you don't like it." Kakashi whispered back.

"Are you even sure that Mr. Uchiha wants to see me? I'm just a random makeup artist." I gulped.

"Yeah, I'm hundred percent sure. Well, go in. He wants it to be private, so I'll be waiting outside." Kakashi left with now a book in his hands. Don't ask what the book was about. I could feel cold sweat rolling down my neck and collarbone.

My footsteps echoed through the vacant restaurant. I had reached the final floor, and glass windows surrounded me. The outside view was beautiful, stunning. There was nobody at the other tables, and I found Mr. Uchiha gazing out a window. The table was right next to the window, so the view was even better.

I walked to the table, and with my hands behind me, I greeted him.

"Ah, it's an honor for Mr. Uchiha to invite me for dinner." I mumbled.

Mr. Uchiha's head snapped towards me, and his expression was…interesting. A small blush blossomed as he tried his best to hide it behind his bored expression. He looked away again, but beckoned me to the seat opposite of him. I sat down, and beamed at him.

"Thanks for trying to make me feel comfortable, Mr. Uchiha." I chuckled, glancing at his clothes.

He was wearing a simple navy blue V-neck with an unbuttoned black tee-shirt. Jeans ran down to converses, and bracelets decorated his slender wrists. Somehow I felt that I was in peace, and calm.

"It wasn't for you, moron."

I knew it wasn't an insult. It was how he covered up his embarrassment. That made me more intrigued in his real self.

"Whatever! So, what's for dinner? I'm up for some ramen!" I shouted, since, well, there wasn't anyone around.

Mr. Uchiha cringed from my loud voice, "What are you, an idiot? They don't serve ramen at a high class restaurant, idiot."

I pouted, and was about to argue back when a dish was placed in front of me.

"Here you are, a miso and pork ramen for my brother, and a mushroom for jerky here."

My eyes widened, along with my grin. I could see Mr. Uchiha glare daggers at the waiter, and chef.

"Kyuu?!"