This chapter's a little on the long side, as
I'm not only bringing in Akira and Yuni, but Izam and Ni-Na as well. I make no
apologies for Yuni's attitude. It provides conflict. ^_^ I'd also like to beg
the Sneaker Pimps for forgiveness of Izam's butchering of "Spin Spin Sugar". And
yes, I know that the chapter title sounds like a bad episode of Sailor Moon, which
was my intention. ^^
POLITICALLY CORRECT DISCLAIMER: Pink Marabou does not advocate smoking 'doobies'.
Club Revolution: The Politics of Dancing
03: Showdown in Crystal Tokyo
"Wow! Look, it's her! It's really her!"
A gaggle of excited little girls in matching private-school uniforms and kneesocks craned their necks around to get a better look at the teenager sashaying down the sidewalk, long blonde pigtails swirling behind her as she clung to her companion's arm. To the casual observer, she was indistinguishable from any other sailor-suited schoolgirl—prettier than most, perhaps. But the group of young onlookers knew better.
One little girl, bolder than the rest, pulled out a pen and paper from her pink plastic backpack and caught up to the retreating figures, running alongside them. "Miss Verse!" she squealed in nine-year-old rapture. "Miss Verse, can I please have your autograph, please?"
The blonde girl, international teen star Yuni Verse, beamed indulgently down at the eager moppet. "I'm terribly sorry," she said sweetly, "but I'm in a big hurry to get somewhere. But, if you send fifteen dollars to my fan club, you can get a personally signed 8x10 glossy. Toodles!"
And with that, she and her companion continued on their merry way, obviously not in any big hurry.
"So, anyway, Akira," Yuni chirped, snuggling against the man's shirtsleeve, "this new club is supposed to be at least as good as the ones downtown, if not better. Well, I mean, of course it's better, if it's under-21. I still can't believe the nerve of those people at the Paradise Lounge—carding a celebrity! I paid for a VIP pass, they should have let me in anyway!"
Akira, her tall, imposing, and sharply dressed bodyguard, didn't bother to point out to Yuni that she was only 14, and that the club owners had had a perfectly valid reason for not letting her in. Yuni was under the impression that with her fame, she should be allowed to go anywhere and do anything she wanted, but despite the error of this way of thinking, Akira never corrected her. It wasn't in his job description. No, that only included protecting her, following her, and granting her every wish, whether it was satisfying a 2 AM hankering for French fries or beating up an obnoxious cat-calling admirer.
Besides, he'd learned long ago that arguing anything with Yuni was a lost cause.
So, he usually just conceded with, "Hmm."
"Anyway, I figure that tournament's an easy win," Yuni continued, skipping over a crack in the walk, the pleats of her brown plaid skirt fluttering with the effort. "I know I've got an advantage over most of the wannabe fly-girls around here. And with you helping me to eliminate the competition, first prize is as good as mine!"
Again, Akira was struck with the urge to remind her that she was already exceedingly wealthy, so much that $500 was a mere drop in the bucket. And that she'd just taken it for granted that he'd enter the contest, too.
But, "Hmm," was all he said.
Yuni sighed. "I'm bored. Let's go by the video store and look at my posters again."
Akira quirked an eyebrow at her, then adjusted the holster concealed under his arm. "As you wish, Miss Yuni."
"Oh, you're kidding!" Ruby, the afternoon clerk at Crystal Tokyo Video, stopped in her pinning up a poster advertising Cowboy Bebop: Knockin' on Heaven's Door to turn around and gape at Emi in shock. Emi had been distracting her from her duties with the tale of her double collision with Rage, and Ruby had accidentally driven a pushpin through Spike Spiegel's forehead. "Well, at least he actually spoke to you. That's something, right?"
Emi laughed, pushing a light blue lock behind one ear. "Oh, yeah, Ruby. That's exactly the sort of hot n' heavy romance I always dreamed would happen to me. Anyway, I don't even like Rage…like that."
"Mmmhmm," Ruby taunted lightly as she finished tacking the poster. "Suuuure you don't."
"I don't!" Emi insisted. "He's so…gosh, I don't know. Inaccessible, for one."
Ruby set down the box of pushpins and stared deadpan at her friend. "Grasshopper, you have much to learn about the opposite sex. They're all inaccessible when it comes to their feelings. If they weren't, they'd be women."
Emi allowed herself a giggle, but sobered up quickly. "Plus, he's such a mope. And a terrible conversationalist. And I'm absolutely positive we have nothing in common. I don't even think he has a life outside of the store and school."
"Oh, I wouldn't—" Ruby began, but was cut off by the jangling of the bell atop the door. In waltzed Nana "Ni-Na" Nida, the daughter of the flower shop owners across the plaza, and a casual friend of Emi's. Emi would have liked to get to know her better, but as they didn't attend the same high school, they hung out with different people and usually only saw each other at the market. Still, Emi liked her and thought she was unique. She was a sort of quasi-hippie at heart who was never seen without an armload of bangles, a bindi on her forehead, and a golden-yellow bandanna tied around her sapphire hair.
She wasn't alone today, either; she was towing along a boy Emi had never seen before. He looked about their age, in a baggy rainbow tie-dyed shirt and even baggier khakis, with a head full of brown dreadlocks. He grinned amiably at Emi and Ruby and made the 'shaka' gesture with his left hand. "What's up?"
Ruby grinned back. "Who's your friend, Ni-Na?"
"Ruby, Emi, this is Izam; he's a classmate of mine. Izam, this is Ruby Tsukino and Emi Toshiba," Ni-Na gestured to the two girls as hellos were exchanged.
"Emi…Toshiba?" Izam said, his brow creasing. "Oh, I get it! Like the music company, Toshiba-EMI."
A loud crash sounded just then, causing the teens' heads to jerk in the direction of the sound. "What was that?" asked Ni-Na, looking startled.
"Fourth wall?" Emi supplied, as the group looked around suspiciously.
"No, I knocked over this stack of videos," Ruby said sheepishly, picking up several VHS cases off the floor. "So…Izam. That's an odd name. What's it short for?"
Ni-Na smiled. "He won't even tell me. All the teachers just call him 'Izam'. It's even on his ID."
"Hey, if I told you, it'd ruin the mystique!" protested Izam. "And part of my appeal as a character is the fact that I choose to remain an enigma."
Another crash sounded, of something heavy toppling over. Emi, Izam and Ni-Na looked at Ruby, still re-stacking videos, who merely shrugged.
"We've got to be more careful of that fourth wall," sighed Ni-Na. "Anyway, we just stopped by to see if you had any of those dance simulator games in stock. We're going back to my house to warm up for the tournament Saturday, and we're not above stealing a few ideas…"
"You mean the tournament at Club Revolution?" Emi raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know you were that into dancing, Ni-Na."
"Oh, yeah!" Ni-Na beamed. "Mostly at raves, even though I don't go that often. Izam's 18, so he can get into Asylum. He's even won a couple of freestyling contests there."
Izam grinned proudly. "I would have won Freestyle Champion of the Year, if not for that—stupid—aargh!" he choked out in a strangled voice. Ni-Na patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. "Sorry, it just steams me thinking about that jerk."
"What jerk?" Emi inquired.
Ni-Na giggled. "Why, none other than Kaboku Shopping Center's very own Rage Itoh!"
Now it was Emi's turn to choke. "Rage?"
"Aaghh, don't say the name!" Izam yelped. "Just hearing it fills me with…" He clenched his fists and turned bright red. "Rage!"
"Apparently," Ni-Na went on gleefully, "he showed up, kicked everyone's butt several times over, including Izam's, who was favored to win, and went home with the trophy. And did it all without saying a word to anyone!"
"Now twist the knife counterclockwise, Neen!" Izam moaned. "I tell you, the next time I see that guy…I'm going to show him a thing or two about busting a move. If I don't punch him in the face first!"
"Better not look toward the door, then," Ruby said casually, whistling a tune as she filed a video away on the shelf behind her.
Sure enough, the bell jangled again to signal Rage's entrance, who strode up to the counter with a videotape in hand, completely oblivious to the four pairs of silent eyes watching him. Izam, trembling with fury, had to be restrained by Ni-Na. Rage handed over the tape to Ruby, then cocked his head to look at Emi. Emi stared unblinkingly back, even though she knew her cheeks were flaming red.
Rage finally broke eye contact with Emi, then did an about-face and looked at Izam's throttled expression as he practically gnashed his teeth, struggling in Ni-Na's grip. A low, barely audible chuckle issued from Rage's throat before he turned and stalked out of the store.
"You just wait! I'll get you, you—" Izam yelled at Rage's disappearing back as Ni-Na continued her attempts to placate him. "Save it for the tournament, Iz," she said calmly. "I'm sure he'll be there. You can exact your revenge on the dance floor."
"Oh, I will." Izam crossed his arms. "I don't care if he's the Freestyling Champion of the Universe—"
Jangle, jangle. "Somebody call me?" trilled a voice, and Emi suppressed a groan. With a swirl of blond hair, Yuni Verse pranced into view, a tall and rather studly Asian man on her heels. Yuni played the dance-crazy title character on the popular teen adventure series Sugar Rush, and her likeness was always on display on several posters and DVD cases around the store. Emi, who'd watched the series religiously when it had first come out, had been completely star-struck the first time she'd seen the pixie-like actress walk into Crystal Tokyo, where she'd informed the Tsukino on duty that one of her posters was hanging crooked in the window.
Then, she'd worked up the nerve to actually speak to the TV star, and…Emi wasn't quite so star-struck anymore. She'd had several more chance encounters with Yuni after that, and each time her estimation of the girl had managed to plummet even further. Now, rather than gasping or shrieking like a fangirl when she came into view, Emi's first instinct was to groan.
But, she swallowed it and forced a smile anyway. "Hello, Yuni."
Ni-Na only nodded at her; Emi suspected she might have had some unpleasant encounter with the girl herself. Ruby kept putting tapes on the shelves, paying no attention to the celebrity that had just walked in. But Izam looked intrigued. "Hey, aren't you Sugar Rush?" he exclaimed.
Yuni sniffed and tossed her hair. "Naturally. Didn't the posters give you a hint?"
"Man, this is so cool! I love that show, especially after a doobie or two," Izam related. "That opening song is so trippy…Spin spin sugaaahh! Call on meeeee, spin spin sugaaaahh!"
Ni-Na shook her head, and Emi tried not to laugh. Even Yuni's companion looked like he was holding back, one corner of his mouth quirking. Yuni, however, looked highly affronted.
"Very nice," she said coolly. "Have you finished embarrassing yourself?"
"Hmm." Izam thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, I guess."
"Just out of curiosity, Yuni, did you have some reason for coming here other than to insult the customers?" Emi remarked boldly, privately enjoying the bright spots of color that appeared on the girl's cheeks. Obviously Yuni wasn't used to people not being affected by her blinding stardom.
"I was just on a walk through the neighborhood," Yuni huffed. "And apparently the video store is one of the most happening places in this pathetic little city…"
"If you hate it so much, why don't you move back to New York?" challenged Emi.
"Because," Yuni thrust out, putting a hand on one hip, "my parents thought it would be best for me to take a break from the entertainment industry for awhile. And they think it's safer here. Believe me, if I had a choice I'd be back on Fifth Avenue in a second."
Ni-Na, who'd been eyeing the man behind Yuni all this time, finally spoke up. "Who's the guy, Yuni?"
"Oh!" Yuni latched onto the man's arm again, and he stared poker-faced ahead. "This is Akira Kongohji. My…boyfriend."
"Really. 'Cause from that gun under his arm, I'd be willing to bet he's a bodyguard," Emi remarked. "Not to mention the fact that he looks a bit too old for you."
"Shows how much you know," Yuni shot back, still glomping Akira's arm. "Akira and I have been together a long time, haven't we, pookie?"
"Hmm," was all Akira said.
Izam was squinting at Akira. "Dude, are you that guy on Big O? 'Cause you look just like him. I mean, the resemblance is seriously uncanny, man."
"Akira and I are entering the dance tournament at that new club this weekend," Yuni announced, by way of returning all attention to herself. "So I hope none of you plan on doing the same, unless you want to be humiliated."
"We're entering it," Ni-Na spoke up, indicating herself and Izam. "And what makes you so certain you're going to win, anyway?"
"Because I'm the best." Yuni beamed. She turned to Emi. "I guess I don't have to bother to ask if you're entering. You don't really look like the dancing type."
That did it. Emi swelled. This was another one of those rare but deadly instances that she was going to say something she'd later regret, but she was, of course, too agitated to consider the situation. "Oh, yeah?" she demanded. "Well, as a matter of fact, I am the dancing type. And I am going to enter that tournament. So I guess we'll just have to wait and see who's the best."
"Fine! It'll be my pleasure." Yuni put her nose in the air and turned about. "Let's go, Akira."
Akira held the door open for her as she stormed out, then turned and nodded good-day to the video store's occupants before following close behind.
"Wow, Emi!" Ni-Na exclaimed, sounding as if she'd just been holding a long breath. "So you're really going to enter, too?"
Emi sagged, feeling completely drained. "I hadn't even been planning to. Yuni just got me so riled up…I blurted it out. I guess now I don't really have a choice."
"You'll be great," Ni-Na assured her. "Hey, if you need any help picking out a new outfit for the club…just give me a buzz, okay?"
Emi nodded numbly as Ruby led Ni-Na and Izam over to the selection of video games. Much as she would have liked to blame Yuni for this, she knew who the real culprit was. Her big mouth. It didn't even get a workout that much, but when it did, it seemed her foot always found its way in there, too.
Ruby returned to the counter and tapped Emi lightly on the shoulder. "Hey, buck up. Don't worry about it. You're going to kick some major arse on that floor."
"More like, I'm going to get my arse majorly kicked. I bet even Yuni's been to more clubs than I have, and she's still in junior high!" Emi frowned, leaning on the counter and propping her chin in her hands. "I mean, I've barely danced outside my own room! I know I won't have half the experience of most of those people—"
"Maybe not," Ruby interrupted. "But you love it more than most of those people. And that's more important. Most of them are either competing for the prize or the chance to show off their skills. How many people do you think will be competing just because they love to dance?" Emi tried to protest, but Ruby cut her off again. "Yeah, yeah, I know you were more or less challenged, and you're doing it because of pride. But when you go out there, it's not going to be about pride, or winning. It's going to be about you and the music. Even if you don't win, you won't have lost anything."
Emi was silent for a few moments as she took this in. Then, as her eyes met Ruby's, she broke into a tentative smile. "That was a great pep speech, Rube. Think you can get it printed up for me?"
Ruby laughed and bopped her playfully on the head with an empty video case, which brought something else to Emi's mind. "Hey, Ruby?" she ventured. "That tape that Rage returned…what was it?"
With a devilish smile, Ruby reached under the counter and slid it under Emi's nose. "Dirty Dancing," she said with a snigger. "Wonders never cease, do they, Em?"
***
Next chapter: It's all about style.
And if you didn't get the whole 'fourth wall' business...just ask me about it. ^^
POLITICALLY CORRECT DISCLAIMER: Pink Marabou does not advocate smoking 'doobies'.
Club Revolution: The Politics of Dancing
03: Showdown in Crystal Tokyo
"Wow! Look, it's her! It's really her!"
A gaggle of excited little girls in matching private-school uniforms and kneesocks craned their necks around to get a better look at the teenager sashaying down the sidewalk, long blonde pigtails swirling behind her as she clung to her companion's arm. To the casual observer, she was indistinguishable from any other sailor-suited schoolgirl—prettier than most, perhaps. But the group of young onlookers knew better.
One little girl, bolder than the rest, pulled out a pen and paper from her pink plastic backpack and caught up to the retreating figures, running alongside them. "Miss Verse!" she squealed in nine-year-old rapture. "Miss Verse, can I please have your autograph, please?"
The blonde girl, international teen star Yuni Verse, beamed indulgently down at the eager moppet. "I'm terribly sorry," she said sweetly, "but I'm in a big hurry to get somewhere. But, if you send fifteen dollars to my fan club, you can get a personally signed 8x10 glossy. Toodles!"
And with that, she and her companion continued on their merry way, obviously not in any big hurry.
"So, anyway, Akira," Yuni chirped, snuggling against the man's shirtsleeve, "this new club is supposed to be at least as good as the ones downtown, if not better. Well, I mean, of course it's better, if it's under-21. I still can't believe the nerve of those people at the Paradise Lounge—carding a celebrity! I paid for a VIP pass, they should have let me in anyway!"
Akira, her tall, imposing, and sharply dressed bodyguard, didn't bother to point out to Yuni that she was only 14, and that the club owners had had a perfectly valid reason for not letting her in. Yuni was under the impression that with her fame, she should be allowed to go anywhere and do anything she wanted, but despite the error of this way of thinking, Akira never corrected her. It wasn't in his job description. No, that only included protecting her, following her, and granting her every wish, whether it was satisfying a 2 AM hankering for French fries or beating up an obnoxious cat-calling admirer.
Besides, he'd learned long ago that arguing anything with Yuni was a lost cause.
So, he usually just conceded with, "Hmm."
"Anyway, I figure that tournament's an easy win," Yuni continued, skipping over a crack in the walk, the pleats of her brown plaid skirt fluttering with the effort. "I know I've got an advantage over most of the wannabe fly-girls around here. And with you helping me to eliminate the competition, first prize is as good as mine!"
Again, Akira was struck with the urge to remind her that she was already exceedingly wealthy, so much that $500 was a mere drop in the bucket. And that she'd just taken it for granted that he'd enter the contest, too.
But, "Hmm," was all he said.
Yuni sighed. "I'm bored. Let's go by the video store and look at my posters again."
Akira quirked an eyebrow at her, then adjusted the holster concealed under his arm. "As you wish, Miss Yuni."
"Oh, you're kidding!" Ruby, the afternoon clerk at Crystal Tokyo Video, stopped in her pinning up a poster advertising Cowboy Bebop: Knockin' on Heaven's Door to turn around and gape at Emi in shock. Emi had been distracting her from her duties with the tale of her double collision with Rage, and Ruby had accidentally driven a pushpin through Spike Spiegel's forehead. "Well, at least he actually spoke to you. That's something, right?"
Emi laughed, pushing a light blue lock behind one ear. "Oh, yeah, Ruby. That's exactly the sort of hot n' heavy romance I always dreamed would happen to me. Anyway, I don't even like Rage…like that."
"Mmmhmm," Ruby taunted lightly as she finished tacking the poster. "Suuuure you don't."
"I don't!" Emi insisted. "He's so…gosh, I don't know. Inaccessible, for one."
Ruby set down the box of pushpins and stared deadpan at her friend. "Grasshopper, you have much to learn about the opposite sex. They're all inaccessible when it comes to their feelings. If they weren't, they'd be women."
Emi allowed herself a giggle, but sobered up quickly. "Plus, he's such a mope. And a terrible conversationalist. And I'm absolutely positive we have nothing in common. I don't even think he has a life outside of the store and school."
"Oh, I wouldn't—" Ruby began, but was cut off by the jangling of the bell atop the door. In waltzed Nana "Ni-Na" Nida, the daughter of the flower shop owners across the plaza, and a casual friend of Emi's. Emi would have liked to get to know her better, but as they didn't attend the same high school, they hung out with different people and usually only saw each other at the market. Still, Emi liked her and thought she was unique. She was a sort of quasi-hippie at heart who was never seen without an armload of bangles, a bindi on her forehead, and a golden-yellow bandanna tied around her sapphire hair.
She wasn't alone today, either; she was towing along a boy Emi had never seen before. He looked about their age, in a baggy rainbow tie-dyed shirt and even baggier khakis, with a head full of brown dreadlocks. He grinned amiably at Emi and Ruby and made the 'shaka' gesture with his left hand. "What's up?"
Ruby grinned back. "Who's your friend, Ni-Na?"
"Ruby, Emi, this is Izam; he's a classmate of mine. Izam, this is Ruby Tsukino and Emi Toshiba," Ni-Na gestured to the two girls as hellos were exchanged.
"Emi…Toshiba?" Izam said, his brow creasing. "Oh, I get it! Like the music company, Toshiba-EMI."
A loud crash sounded just then, causing the teens' heads to jerk in the direction of the sound. "What was that?" asked Ni-Na, looking startled.
"Fourth wall?" Emi supplied, as the group looked around suspiciously.
"No, I knocked over this stack of videos," Ruby said sheepishly, picking up several VHS cases off the floor. "So…Izam. That's an odd name. What's it short for?"
Ni-Na smiled. "He won't even tell me. All the teachers just call him 'Izam'. It's even on his ID."
"Hey, if I told you, it'd ruin the mystique!" protested Izam. "And part of my appeal as a character is the fact that I choose to remain an enigma."
Another crash sounded, of something heavy toppling over. Emi, Izam and Ni-Na looked at Ruby, still re-stacking videos, who merely shrugged.
"We've got to be more careful of that fourth wall," sighed Ni-Na. "Anyway, we just stopped by to see if you had any of those dance simulator games in stock. We're going back to my house to warm up for the tournament Saturday, and we're not above stealing a few ideas…"
"You mean the tournament at Club Revolution?" Emi raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know you were that into dancing, Ni-Na."
"Oh, yeah!" Ni-Na beamed. "Mostly at raves, even though I don't go that often. Izam's 18, so he can get into Asylum. He's even won a couple of freestyling contests there."
Izam grinned proudly. "I would have won Freestyle Champion of the Year, if not for that—stupid—aargh!" he choked out in a strangled voice. Ni-Na patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. "Sorry, it just steams me thinking about that jerk."
"What jerk?" Emi inquired.
Ni-Na giggled. "Why, none other than Kaboku Shopping Center's very own Rage Itoh!"
Now it was Emi's turn to choke. "Rage?"
"Aaghh, don't say the name!" Izam yelped. "Just hearing it fills me with…" He clenched his fists and turned bright red. "Rage!"
"Apparently," Ni-Na went on gleefully, "he showed up, kicked everyone's butt several times over, including Izam's, who was favored to win, and went home with the trophy. And did it all without saying a word to anyone!"
"Now twist the knife counterclockwise, Neen!" Izam moaned. "I tell you, the next time I see that guy…I'm going to show him a thing or two about busting a move. If I don't punch him in the face first!"
"Better not look toward the door, then," Ruby said casually, whistling a tune as she filed a video away on the shelf behind her.
Sure enough, the bell jangled again to signal Rage's entrance, who strode up to the counter with a videotape in hand, completely oblivious to the four pairs of silent eyes watching him. Izam, trembling with fury, had to be restrained by Ni-Na. Rage handed over the tape to Ruby, then cocked his head to look at Emi. Emi stared unblinkingly back, even though she knew her cheeks were flaming red.
Rage finally broke eye contact with Emi, then did an about-face and looked at Izam's throttled expression as he practically gnashed his teeth, struggling in Ni-Na's grip. A low, barely audible chuckle issued from Rage's throat before he turned and stalked out of the store.
"You just wait! I'll get you, you—" Izam yelled at Rage's disappearing back as Ni-Na continued her attempts to placate him. "Save it for the tournament, Iz," she said calmly. "I'm sure he'll be there. You can exact your revenge on the dance floor."
"Oh, I will." Izam crossed his arms. "I don't care if he's the Freestyling Champion of the Universe—"
Jangle, jangle. "Somebody call me?" trilled a voice, and Emi suppressed a groan. With a swirl of blond hair, Yuni Verse pranced into view, a tall and rather studly Asian man on her heels. Yuni played the dance-crazy title character on the popular teen adventure series Sugar Rush, and her likeness was always on display on several posters and DVD cases around the store. Emi, who'd watched the series religiously when it had first come out, had been completely star-struck the first time she'd seen the pixie-like actress walk into Crystal Tokyo, where she'd informed the Tsukino on duty that one of her posters was hanging crooked in the window.
Then, she'd worked up the nerve to actually speak to the TV star, and…Emi wasn't quite so star-struck anymore. She'd had several more chance encounters with Yuni after that, and each time her estimation of the girl had managed to plummet even further. Now, rather than gasping or shrieking like a fangirl when she came into view, Emi's first instinct was to groan.
But, she swallowed it and forced a smile anyway. "Hello, Yuni."
Ni-Na only nodded at her; Emi suspected she might have had some unpleasant encounter with the girl herself. Ruby kept putting tapes on the shelves, paying no attention to the celebrity that had just walked in. But Izam looked intrigued. "Hey, aren't you Sugar Rush?" he exclaimed.
Yuni sniffed and tossed her hair. "Naturally. Didn't the posters give you a hint?"
"Man, this is so cool! I love that show, especially after a doobie or two," Izam related. "That opening song is so trippy…Spin spin sugaaahh! Call on meeeee, spin spin sugaaaahh!"
Ni-Na shook her head, and Emi tried not to laugh. Even Yuni's companion looked like he was holding back, one corner of his mouth quirking. Yuni, however, looked highly affronted.
"Very nice," she said coolly. "Have you finished embarrassing yourself?"
"Hmm." Izam thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, I guess."
"Just out of curiosity, Yuni, did you have some reason for coming here other than to insult the customers?" Emi remarked boldly, privately enjoying the bright spots of color that appeared on the girl's cheeks. Obviously Yuni wasn't used to people not being affected by her blinding stardom.
"I was just on a walk through the neighborhood," Yuni huffed. "And apparently the video store is one of the most happening places in this pathetic little city…"
"If you hate it so much, why don't you move back to New York?" challenged Emi.
"Because," Yuni thrust out, putting a hand on one hip, "my parents thought it would be best for me to take a break from the entertainment industry for awhile. And they think it's safer here. Believe me, if I had a choice I'd be back on Fifth Avenue in a second."
Ni-Na, who'd been eyeing the man behind Yuni all this time, finally spoke up. "Who's the guy, Yuni?"
"Oh!" Yuni latched onto the man's arm again, and he stared poker-faced ahead. "This is Akira Kongohji. My…boyfriend."
"Really. 'Cause from that gun under his arm, I'd be willing to bet he's a bodyguard," Emi remarked. "Not to mention the fact that he looks a bit too old for you."
"Shows how much you know," Yuni shot back, still glomping Akira's arm. "Akira and I have been together a long time, haven't we, pookie?"
"Hmm," was all Akira said.
Izam was squinting at Akira. "Dude, are you that guy on Big O? 'Cause you look just like him. I mean, the resemblance is seriously uncanny, man."
"Akira and I are entering the dance tournament at that new club this weekend," Yuni announced, by way of returning all attention to herself. "So I hope none of you plan on doing the same, unless you want to be humiliated."
"We're entering it," Ni-Na spoke up, indicating herself and Izam. "And what makes you so certain you're going to win, anyway?"
"Because I'm the best." Yuni beamed. She turned to Emi. "I guess I don't have to bother to ask if you're entering. You don't really look like the dancing type."
That did it. Emi swelled. This was another one of those rare but deadly instances that she was going to say something she'd later regret, but she was, of course, too agitated to consider the situation. "Oh, yeah?" she demanded. "Well, as a matter of fact, I am the dancing type. And I am going to enter that tournament. So I guess we'll just have to wait and see who's the best."
"Fine! It'll be my pleasure." Yuni put her nose in the air and turned about. "Let's go, Akira."
Akira held the door open for her as she stormed out, then turned and nodded good-day to the video store's occupants before following close behind.
"Wow, Emi!" Ni-Na exclaimed, sounding as if she'd just been holding a long breath. "So you're really going to enter, too?"
Emi sagged, feeling completely drained. "I hadn't even been planning to. Yuni just got me so riled up…I blurted it out. I guess now I don't really have a choice."
"You'll be great," Ni-Na assured her. "Hey, if you need any help picking out a new outfit for the club…just give me a buzz, okay?"
Emi nodded numbly as Ruby led Ni-Na and Izam over to the selection of video games. Much as she would have liked to blame Yuni for this, she knew who the real culprit was. Her big mouth. It didn't even get a workout that much, but when it did, it seemed her foot always found its way in there, too.
Ruby returned to the counter and tapped Emi lightly on the shoulder. "Hey, buck up. Don't worry about it. You're going to kick some major arse on that floor."
"More like, I'm going to get my arse majorly kicked. I bet even Yuni's been to more clubs than I have, and she's still in junior high!" Emi frowned, leaning on the counter and propping her chin in her hands. "I mean, I've barely danced outside my own room! I know I won't have half the experience of most of those people—"
"Maybe not," Ruby interrupted. "But you love it more than most of those people. And that's more important. Most of them are either competing for the prize or the chance to show off their skills. How many people do you think will be competing just because they love to dance?" Emi tried to protest, but Ruby cut her off again. "Yeah, yeah, I know you were more or less challenged, and you're doing it because of pride. But when you go out there, it's not going to be about pride, or winning. It's going to be about you and the music. Even if you don't win, you won't have lost anything."
Emi was silent for a few moments as she took this in. Then, as her eyes met Ruby's, she broke into a tentative smile. "That was a great pep speech, Rube. Think you can get it printed up for me?"
Ruby laughed and bopped her playfully on the head with an empty video case, which brought something else to Emi's mind. "Hey, Ruby?" she ventured. "That tape that Rage returned…what was it?"
With a devilish smile, Ruby reached under the counter and slid it under Emi's nose. "Dirty Dancing," she said with a snigger. "Wonders never cease, do they, Em?"
***
Next chapter: It's all about style.
And if you didn't get the whole 'fourth wall' business...just ask me about it. ^^