Smack.
"I'm a married woman now, George, as you very well know." said Yukari, her eyes expressionless as she handed George back the rose. He took it and put it in the inside of his coat jacket, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Fine, then, but I remember what you did at that musical. I think about you every day." he replied in a normal tone this time. Yukari slapped him a second time, and he just smiled and put his hand up to the place where her gloved hand had hit him.
"Anyways, let's get this party started. Come on, to the table!" announced Yukari, leading them over to the long table where she had prepared all the food. There were several different bottles of wine and champagne. Arashi picked up a bottle of Dom Perignon and sneered.
"All you have is this high-end shit." complained Arashi, putting the bottle down and pulling out his chair. Yukari glared at him, bent over and pulled a large box from under the table – it was a case of American beer. Arashi's eyes lit up as she tossed him one. He opened it seconds after catching it, taking a long swig.
"Alright! Now this is the good stuff, my friends!" yelled Arashi, beginning to look around at the food that was placed before him.
"Well, I knew you'd complain about it all being wine, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to keep a case of beer under the table." explained Yukari, picking up the bottle that Arashi had rejected, uncorking it and pouring it into her glass. She took a sip, then put it down. She had better drink slowly, since she wasn't a very good drunk.
"I looooooooooooooooooooove you, Carooooolineee...." burped Arashi. Miwako and Isabella both giggled, Yukari glared at him, and George looked utterly disgusted.
"Please, you are with women, Arashi. Couldn't you be less vulgar?" said George.
"Okay, Miwako is my wife, Yukari is Hiro's wife, you are a sissy, and Isabella isn't even a real woman." said Arashi, glaring back at Yukari. They all gasped. Well, except for Arashi, of course. Isabella looked shocked, and had one hand over her gaping mouth. Yukari and Miwako both looked as if someone had run an electrical current through them, and George simply looked murderous.
"Are you sure there isn't room for one more dish on this course? I'm sure fried ARASHI would be good for washing down the rest." hissed George, his eyes glinting with murderous intent and rage.
"I doubt his meat would be good enough for that, George. Leave him alone. He's drunk. I guess he's a worse drunk than I am, and that's pretty hard to do." calmed Yukari, recovering from the initial shock of Arashi's statement, "Of course, we could still butcher him and feed him to a dog if you'd like, Isabella."
"No, no, that's quite alright, Carrie, but would you pass me some of that Dom Perignon you have there?" asked Isabella politely, smiling as Yukari passed the bottle over to her. She uncorked it and poured it into her wine glass before downing it in one gulp.
As the dinner progressed, they felt more and more as if it was the same as that fateful day when they celebrated Yukari's decision to become their model. To her, then, the studio had just been a little basement store removed from the main road, stuck amidst a maze of small streets. To reach it, one had to go down a flight of steps to a cute little door. Sweet exotic scents filled every corner, as if someone was making candies from a Chinese Import Store. Dizzying music bounced off the loud pink walls. There was an old bar and a pool table. There were three sewing machines.
It was like a tiny secret hideout.
They called it their studio.
"Carrriiiiolineeeeeee....can we stay here foreeeeveeeeeeerrrrr?" asked Arashi, half falling out of his chair, dead drunk. Thump. Nevermind about the 'half falling' part.
"Arashi! We should leave. You're going to be sick. I told you not to drink so much!" cried Miwako, pulling Arashi back into his seat. Arashi giggled and hiccuped, gazing up at Miwako lovingly. He tickled her chin above her, and she smiled.
"Aw, Miwako, do you have to go?" asked Yukari, pouting. Miwako was her best friend. They saw each other lots, since her and Arashi hadn't moved away yet, but they never seemed to see each other enough.
"Yeah, sorry Yukari. It's late, and Arashi's dead drunk. Erica will be wondering what happened to us. She doesn't like Tsutomu much. I tried to get sissy to do it, but she had to do some work with Happy Berry." said Miwako, an apologetic look on her face. "Come on, Arashi, we're going." She pulled Arashi up onto his feet and supported his weight as they shuffled to the door. Yukari was surprised that Miwako could support his weight, being so tiny, but she probably had practice.
"Bye!" called Isabella, George and Yukari after them, all three lifting their wine glasses to them, gesturing their way.
"Ah, I hope I see them soon. I don't get to see any of you enough anymore, and I'm not even busy most of the time." sighed Yukari, putting her glass down in front of her. She was fairly sober, since she hadn't had more than half a glass of wine. She was trying to make sure that she wouldn't get falling out of her chair drunk, like Arashi, so George wouldn't take a notion to carrying her home.
"Well, don't you miss Isabella and I?" asked George, taking a sip from his glass.
"I do, but you guys find yourselves thoroughly uncontactable." said Yukari sarcastically.
"Oh. Well, we're moving around so much that we can't be contacted. I was quite surprised when you managed to send us that invitation, Carrie." answered Isabella.
"Well, I figured the Broadway Musical you guys invited me to would be a bit of a clue, and I figured whoever was at that address could connect me to you both." replied Yukari, cutting out a piece of the magnificent cake she had bought for them. It was a gigantic mannequin cake with a long piece of measuring tape winding around it.
"Well, it's lucky that we were there." said Isabella, "We were about to leave for Paris right then. Oh – and excuse me, I believe I have to go to the ladies' room. I'll be back in a flash." Isabella got up and swept over to the washroom door, going in and leaving George and Yukari alone. Yukari may have just been imagining it, but she thought she had seen a mischievous glint in Isabella's eyes before she stepped into the washroom.
Yukari looked down at her hands, which were placed on her lap. Her heart was pounding. She wanted to avoid being alone with George as much as possible, but of course, it just had to happen anyway. She knew her feelings for him were still there, no matter how she tried to suppress them. How could she not, she had not seen him for ten years. She could not help that her heart had leaped with joy at the sight of George striding through the door. She could not help that he noticed.
"Yukari-" started George.
"If you're going to ask me to come away with you, than the answer is still no." Yukari said bluntly, glaring at him intensely. She did not intend on giving in to his charm and wit. George's eyes widened and he chuckled.
"I was just going to ask where you had purchased this delightful cake. It's beautiful, and I doubt that you could have made something like that on your own." replied George. Yukari blushed and looked down at her hands again. An awkward silence fell upon them, and they could hear flushing noises from the bathroom.
"Yukari, do you want to come away with me? Come along with us, abandon your husband. Feel a taste of freedom. Forget your modeling, you're slowing down already. You won't receive any jobs for a while. Come to Europe with me." George said, breaking the silence that had been so loud in her ears.
Forget your modeling
Yukari bit her lip. Her eyes looked everywhere, trying to avoid his gaze. At that moment in time, there were two people raging within her. One wanted her to jump out of her seat and follow him wherever he went, deserting her husband and the job she loved. The other one wanted to stay planted in that seat, looking him in the eyes as she told him she wouldn't go.
Just then, her cell phone rang. It was on the counter of the old bar, and she picked it up, flipping it open at once. The caller I.D. read 'Shimamoto-San'.
"Hello?" said Yukari uncertainly, giving George a sheepish look. He stared at her with the same intensity as before, seemingly examining her. Yukari wished he would stop.
"Yukari! How would you like to go to Paris!" said Shimamoto.
"Paris? Wow..For a job, you mean? That would be great. When?" asked Yukari, her eyes widening. George raised one brow at her, and she just glared at him, her certainty returning bit by bit.
"Now. Get over to the offices right now. Is this a bad time?"
"Well-"
"Actually, I really don't care if it's a bad time, get over here right now!"
"I – um – well.."
Forget your modeling.
Come away with me.
Forget your husband.
If you felt that sleeping with me was more important than becoming a model, you're a stupid, stupid girl.
"I'm coming right now. Actually, can you pick me up? I'm at a party at the old ParaKiss studio, and I've been drinking. I haven't drunk much, but I still shouldn't drive." she said into the phone. George's eyes finally moved away, looking down at the ground.
"Okay, I'll be right there." Click. Yukari closed her cell phone and turned to George.
"I just got a job, thank you very much. Tell Isabella where I've gone." Yukari said. Then she stopped. She ran to the washroom just as Isabella came out. Isabella let her rush in and lock the door behind her as she changed into the change of clothes she had previously prepared. She put the dress on a coat hanger that was already there and left the washroom.
"I'll be leaving now." she said to both George and Isabella. They both nodded sadly.
She heard a honk from outside. She opened the door, rushed up the tiny flight of stairs, went through the small gateway, and ran into Shimamoto's car. She collapsed into the passenger seat and looked at her still-gloved hands. She pulled both gloves off and stared at them. Splash. A tear fell onto the glossy transparent fabric. Another tear.
They didn't say anything for the whole ride. No questions, just silence. Shimamoto was good for that.