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To: KoumiLoccness, GraN, windedlove, blue wolf luv red phoenix, fragileheart-brokensoul
Thanks for the reviews!
And a special thank you to: xoelizabethxo :D
Slave
Chapter three - Smart and Blond
By Memphizz
"You wanted to see me, Rei?"
Rei looked up from her laptop and smiled in delight. "Yes, please come in Sora and take a seat," she told the redhead.
Sora did as she was instructed and entered Rei's office. The smell of burnt incense encumbered her nostrils, as she made her way to Rei's desk, glancing at her impressive collection of oil paintings that hung from her office's wall. Rei had been an avid art collector for several years, her penthouses walls were coated with works of Frank Stella, Jackson Pollock and David Hockney, and esteemed artists of the 20th century. Sora had to admit she had good taste.
Sora took a seat across from her boss, watching her manicured fingertips type vigorously on her laptop, her concentration on the screen intense as if she was engrossed in an online computer game. "I'll be right with you Sora," Rei informed her assistant without taking her eyes off the screen. "I just want to finish up this email to the magazine."
Sora shrugged nonchalantly. "No problem," she answered. Rei's work addiction was not unprecedented occurrence for Sora. She was always preoccupied with something involving her company, Skin. She lived and breathed the brand. It was like her only children that she brought up and nourished by herself. Blood, sweat and tears were indeed shed.
As Rei hit the 'enter' the key, she closed her laptop and looked up at Sora with a bright smile of admiration. She has come along way since that night Rei first met her over a year ago. And she definitely has proved herself as keen harder and loyal assistant to Rei and when she needed her, Sora was always there; set for anything that came her way. Subsequently, Rei knew Sora will handle the job she has bestowed upon to her with ease and poise. "You must be wondering why you haven't yet received your brief," she asked as she leant back into her leather black chair.
"Yeah, kind of," Sora said honestly, clutching the blue file Rei gave to her earlier.
Smiling, Rei leaned forward and rested her arms briefly on her desk. "I decided that I rather brief you in person this time," she said sitting up from her seat and as she walked around her desk to the front, glided her seamstress hands on the wooden surface. She pressed her weight against the rounded edge of the desk, looking intently into Sora's eyes. "The job that I wanted you to do, I find very important for the new campaign to succeed efficiently," she stated and crossed her arms by her chest. "So I'm counting on you Sora, to make sure this works. In saying that, I know it will be hard for you in the beginning, but it will only last for a month, so I know you will hack it."
Feeling slightly tense, Sora felt a small lump develop at the back of her throat. Rei's somber tone and high expectations were making her somewhat nervous and edgy. Undeniably, there were many occasions Rei asked for the impossible from her and assuredly taming the impossible into the very possible. So why would this task be lesser than preposterous? Why did she feel uneasy? She did not even know what the job entailed, so it was senseless getting worked up about something she did know. She calmed herself and took in a deep breath. "What is it that you wanted me to do?"
Rei offered a satisfying smile. "You know The Wolves lead singer, the blond guy?" she digressed.
Frowning slightly, Sora looked down at the blue file, opened it and scanned the first page. "Ummm…yes, Yamato Ishida or Matt as he likes to be referred to," she answered rolling her auburn eyes.
"Yes him," Rei nodded. "He seems to portray himself as the leader of the pack and the rest just follow, while he makes all the decisions for the band," she said, placing her hands on edge of the desk. "And what I've heard and seen is that if he isn't happy and doesn't stay happy, shit will consequently hit the fan with irreversible effect," she frowned. "And I don't need that, I don't need a spoiled little rockstar ruining this campaign for me and I know I'm the one who asked them to endorse the collection, but they fitted the profile perfectly," she explained as she ran her hand threw her hair in frustration, feeling slightly overwhelmed.
Letting a sigh escape her glossy lips, Sora knew she was going to regret asking this. "So, what needs to be done to make sure he doesn't wreck this?" she asked reluctantly.
A sly smile appeared on Rei face. "That's where you come in Sora."
"What do you mean?" she asked, sounding slightly anxious. I'm so not going to like this.
Rei lean forward arching her eyebrow. "I want you to be at his every beck and call."
A wave of nausea engulfed the redhead. "What?" she choked out.
"You just have to do what he asks for, like if he wants a caffe' latte or he needs his dry cleaning to be collected, you will be there to do so," she enlightened. "You'll be like his assistant for the month." She stood up straight and walked back to her seat.
I feel like I'm going to be sick
Sora's worst nightmare has emerge in the deepest, darkest void of celebrity hell, inform of an annoying, pretentious, blond brat whose very existence was detested by the redhead. There had to be a way to she could sidestep this unbearable task. "What about Jackie?" she asked tersely. "If I'm with Mr. Personality most of the time, I just don't think she'll be able to cope without me."
"Nonsense," the fashionista shrugged off. "She'll manage. I really need you to do this, to help this collection succeed and to save me from the public humiliation because of a self-important icon."
"I..I.."
Rei leaned forward, knitting her fingers together on the desk. "I tell you what," she started. "If you did this, I'll consider using one or two of your dresses in my next runaway show, come after the opening of course."
Stuck in time itself, Sora stared at her employer with disbelief. Were her ears deceiving her? A rare opportunely had suddenly smacked her across her face, leaving her in a state of shock. This was her chance to get the exposure, to show the fashion world the fresh, new talents of Sora Takenouchi and all that stood in her way was her disgust for the blond.
"So, what do you say, Sora?" Rei asked, but she already knew the answer.
"And what did you say?"
Taking a sip of her cappuccino from the porcelain cup, she looked up at her eager friend. "Well of course I said yes," she replied naturally.
Wide eyed, Mimi's jaw dropped. "No way."
"Yeah way."
And here we go.
"Oh. My. Gosh." Clapping her hands in pure delight, Mimi could not withhold her excitement. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh," she shrieked, subsequently making everyone in the coffee shop turn their attention to the two friends.
Sora could only shake her head at Mimi's hyperactive display of joy. "It's nothing to get excited about Mimi." She knew should not be surprise by Mimi's glee; she was The Wolves biggest fan, her bedroom walls were layered with posters of the famous band. Of course the walls color is unknown by all. But Sora could not help but feel abashed by Mimi's undying loyalty to the band; even now she attends their live stage performance, screaming their names, proclaiming her fealty to them. A typical groupie. She naively believed her friend would grow out of The Wolves devotee role after high school and when she and Koushiro announced that they were officially an item. The years went on, both friends now in their twenty somethings and Mimi's devotion never hindered.
"Are you insane, of course it's something to get excited about," she exclaimed. "You're Yamato's slave."
"Ugh, that sounds so derogative and depreciatory," Sora scowled, crossing her arms by her chest. "And frowned upon by many people. Besides the only reason I accepted the job was because Rei said she would consider having one or two of my dresses in her next show, which in actual fact is exciting."
"Umm…I think the word we should really contemplate here is 'consider'. She didn't promise or swear an oath. No, she said she would consider it and in my books that doesn't mean a guarantee," Mimi said bluntly, bursting Sora's euphoric bubble.
"Yeah, well it's worth the risk."
Hopefully...
"Ha, I say anything is worth being Yamato's servant," Mimi stated and took the last sip of her coffee. "I mean, you get to be around him like all the time."
Sora raised a brow. "Lucky me," she mumbled.
"Why can't you see the positive side to this?"
"The positive side?" Sora echoed. "I'm sorry, I can't seem to see the positive side anywhere." She looked around the coffee shop aimlessly and back at her friend. "Nope, I can't say I see the positive side."
Mimi gave an exasperated sigh and shook her head. "Your sarcastic tone never ceases to amaze me."
"Who said I was being sarcastic?" Sora exclaimed. "This guy is like a prima donna, his very essence just reeks of asshole and I'm allergic to asshole."
"You hardly know him." Mimi pointed out.
"I know he's a prick."
The brunette rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she grunted, flinging her hair back abruptly. "You never know, you might actually get to like him."
"Oh yeah, when hell freezes over!" The redhead's mind was already made up. Her abhorrence for the lead singer was overshadowing, his self-righteousness and arrogant representation an insufferable headache, and she believed nothing could alter her perception of him. She could only imagine what ridiculous and meaningless tasks he will bequeath upon her to perform without being tempted to afflicting physical damage to his face. The act would be amusing and gratifying. Bearing in mind, she only had to be in his stuck-up presences for just a month, which more likely will feel like a whole year, her anticipation for her prospect, the only thing repelling her from the mental idiocy of insanity.
Or from asphyxiating myself.
"Ugh, you're a lost cause," Mimi grumbled irritable. "You're the only person who doesn't support or even likes The Wolves."
Hallelujah!
Sora cracked a smile. "Yeah well, I guess that makes me the only person who promotes the movement of normality, whose only trying to get by whilst the rest of the world explodes into madness," she chortled.
"That's not funny," Mimi pouted, folding her arms tightly.
"Well, I thought it was and besides I'm just joking with you Meems."
"I know," she grimaced and noticed the blue file resting on the table. "What's in the file?"
Glancing at the folder, Sora gave a slight sigh. "This," she placed her palm on file. "This contains all the information I will need to know about the infamous Yamato and it also encloses his schedule for the campaign. So I can make sure he actually attends his photo shoots and fittings," she explained calmly. At best, if everything goes according to schedule, there should not be any problems that will consequently shift the brand in a negative light. Of course she could only pray that she was not fooling herself in thinking that.
"Oh, so you don't mind if –"
Sora pulled the file away "No," she interrupted tersely. "This information is classified."
Mimi arched her brow. "I bet it is," grinned roguishly. "I really would like to know what kind of underwear he wears though. Boxers or briefs."
The redhead frowned at her friend. Does she truly think of these odd perversions? It was Mimi after all; her mind set was a little eccentric. "I sure don't," she said shaking her head, but she had a sneaky suspicion she will know the answer to that frivolous question soon.
The agony.
"And what's up with new fancy BlackBerry," the brunette inquired, gazing at the multi-functional mobile resting on the table.
"Oh this," Sora picked up the cell phone. "Rei gave it to me. It only has one number, his," she said, placing the device back on the table. "He also has same one with only my digits and no, you cannot have his number either."
"I didn't say anything."
Sora shot her with at skeptical look. "It doesn't mean you weren't thinking about asking for it."
"Yeah, I was thinking about," she admitted, nodding her head. "So can I –"
"No."
"Aw, worth a try," Mimi said glancing at her wrist watch. "Is that the time already?" She slung her designer handbag onto her shoulder and gazed at her redhead friend. "I told Koushiro I would meet up with him in five minutes."
Sora followed suit. "Yeah, I have to get back to the office. Gotta take Yamato's measurements and make my acquaintance with him before the end of the day," she said with a bored tone.
Mimi's eyes lit up. "Oooooo…take pictures."
Sora tapped her foot impatiently on her office's wooden floor with her arms folded by her chest, waiting for the late blond to make his appearance. His tardy attendance was not exactly a shocker, but it had been over an hour since she left the coffee shop. It was utterly ridiculous that he could be this incompetent; she had not even received an informative phone call from him. His apathetic attitude was only fueling her hatred for him even more. Removing her slim black framed glass, she pinched the bridge of her nose, her patients was starting to run dry. He's going to turn me into an alcoholic.
She gave a sigh. "Screw this shit," she mumbled to herself and turned around to retrieve her bag from her desk and vacate the building.
As she was about to grab her bag, her office door swung open. "Am I late?"
Being made aware of another presence in her office, Sora turned around and to her amazement Yamato was standing by her door with a smirk on his face. Unfortunately for him, the audacious grin was not improving her mood. "Yes, you are very late," replied irritably. Uninterested in hearing his excuse, she opted not to ask.
Yamato raised his brows. "By the sound of your displeasing tone, you aren't happy," he said, strolling towards her.
Shit, smart and blond at the same time.
She folded her arms by her chest. "No, I am not and I don't appreciate you being so lat-"
"I'm Matt," he interrupted her as he extended his right hand to the disgruntled redhead.
She raised a skeptical brow at him and shook his hand. "I'm S-"
"Sora, I know," he said cutting her off for the second time, breaking the handshake.
"Yeah, that's me," she said softly, her anger subsiding as she was somewhat surprised he knew her name. Maybe he was not as vile as she previously presumed.
"So you're the chick who's supposed to take all my orders, huh."
Or not.
He eyed her with a waywardly smirk. "I just glad they gave me someone that not too bad looking," he said as he tipped his head to the side. "No too bad at all."
Every single fiber in her being cheered her on to erase the doubt lingering in her mind and to strangulate the blond, ending her pain permanently. But as a wave of rationality swept onto her, she thought it would be unprofessional and morally wrong, reflection badly upon her ethics. No doubt it would certainly have made her feel good, but she knew she had to stand firm and just think about her new opportunity awaiting after this inopportunity.
Her scowl depleted. "So shall we take your measurements," she suggested politely with an artificial smile. "Please take your shirt off."
"I bet you say that to all the guys," he said walking past the redhead and complied, taking off his shirt and tossed it on the nearest chair.
She rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. "Could you please stand on the platform," she asked calmly, raising her arm towards three-way mirror platform that stood to her left.
Obeying, he stepped onto the raised platform. "You know," he started. "I'm only trying to provoke you, so I can determine how long you will actually last or when you will eventually crack."
Pushing her glasses back on the bridge of her nose, she looked up at the blond, engaging in a staring content with him. "Really," she said nonchalantly, unperturbed by his sudden astuteness. "So you want to play mind games?"
"Only if the redhead wants to come out and play."
She arched a brow, the gloves were off. "Oh I'll play," she sneered, folding her arms by her chest. "I think it will be fun and very amusing to see you in a state of aggravation and it would bring total satisfaction when I get the opportunity to wipe away that big…fat…smirk right off your face." No more Ms. Nice lady, if he wanted to set off a game of psychological manipulation, she wasn't going to back down from it and give him the pleasure of a victory. She was game.
He scoffed. "Me-ow!" Amused by her friskiness and zealous, he smiled waywardly. "Behind those ruby orbs lays some hostility, I see."
"And it all goes out to you," she shot back.
"So I guess I'm not exactly on your favorites list."
She shook her head, "No, I'm afraid not," supplying false disappointment.
"And why is that?" He inquired with a casual curiosity.
"Now that list is an endless list," she responded and suddenly digressed. "Look, I just want do my job."
He frowned. Somehow, he felt slightly disappointed she changed the subject from himself to the dreariness of work. "And I just want to do have some fun while I'm here."
"Then have your fun," she said casually, pulling a yellow measuring tape out of her jacket pocket, and began working, keenly wanting to go home and far away from his conceited self. Somehow, feeling slightly contradictory, she strangely enjoyed their inane squabbling. Of course she would never admit to anyone, her stubborn pride made certain of that impossibility.
"You should be happy I came into your life," he answered arrogantly, standing still while she took his measurements. "I'll probably make it more interesting and less dull, I mean, I'm the best think that has happened to you," he boasted unashamedly.
Parking in front of the musician, she quivered as his warm breath made contact on her cold skin. She mentally slapped herself for her foible. "You think so," she chuckled amusedly, composing herself once again.
To her dismay, her tremble did not go unnoticed by the blond and tipped his head forward. "Oh, I know so, my dear," whispering into her ear slyly. "But remember, this is all a game now, my game where I make up all the rules and where you just have to obediently follow them. So hang onto your seat, it's going to be one hell of a ride."
Staying calm, the redhead slightly tipped her head, making eye contact with the blond. Her eagerness for conquest burst through seams of resistance and indecision. "Bring it on blondie."
Song Playing – 'Odd one' by Sick Puppies
A/N: Hey hey! Hope you guys like. I really put a lot of effort into this chapter :P So please review, it would mean a lot!
Important Notice: I'll be out of town for a week or two for work, so I'm not 100% sure I'll update anytime soon, sorry…but I will try to :D
Peace