Disclaimer: Inspired to write, inspired to own, only able to accomplish the former thus far.

A/N: Hello fanfictioners, I'm here again with yet another chapter of this story. Please pardon the late update, school was truly a bother. I thank you all for your kind, wonderful, INSPIRING reviews for the last chapter, it makes writing that much more fun =D Special shout outs to BlackKitt, sandsnowstorm and MythCreatorWriter for their really long, excitable and awesome reviews that got me on a high to keep writing this despite hitting major roadblocks along the way, and let's not forget all my other special reviewers and readers, those that alert, favourite, or simply hit my page. You guys make my day, thanks for the support :) Do enjoy, sorry about the wait!

Note:

- change in scene

-O-O- change in POV (same scene)

Chapter 7: The Fame Monster

You have been cordially invited to the Victoria's Secret Halloween Bash

'Ghoulish & Glam'

on

Saturday, October 31st

9.00 P.M

at the

Hyatt Regency Columbus Hotel

350 North High Street,

Columbus, OH.


Taking another sip of fine Chivas Regal, I pressed my fingers tensely against my temple in hopes of alleviating the migraine gradually making its way to my head. I had recently finished rummaging through hoards of statistics that ensured KaibaCorp remained the leading competitor in the gaming and marketing industry; that stunt Devlin pulled a month back was enough to fire three leading directors who failed to inform me of his convention tour, not to mention the duel disk he had been feverishly working on right beneath my very nose.

If he thought for one second that my temporary leave from Japan would dull my business skills, he was dead wrong.

With reading glasses adjusted, nimble fingers rattled against plastic in another fanatical attempt to restore my pride as the king of the gaming industry, lavishing each 'click' as though another hundred million yen had just been deposited in KaibaCorp's name.

"You getting ready any time soon Seto?"

"I won't be clocking out until three in the morning Mokuba, so you may go on and dine without me." My face never left the bright screen before me, but as he casually slung a piece of paper my way I found my eyes darting for a brief moment to investigate the foreign object.

"Read it to me."

"I did, like 2 hours ago! Don't tell me you're gonna stay cooped up in this hole all day Seto? You haven't left your room for a second except to use the bathroom!" Mokuba sighed in frustration, his features much like my own when I'm in the processing of scolding him. I had to chuckle at the irony.

"Did you not challenge me after breakfast to several laps in the pool?"

"Yeah, but—"

"And did we not go Mezzo Italian today for lunch?" I asked, attention still geared towards the numbers rolling before me.

"That was for lunch!"

"Your question was Mokuba, if I was going to stay cooped up in this hole all day. I haven't dear brother, and you bore witness to all such events. Now, if you don't mind I have a conference call to attend to."

"You mean more pink slips to share out?" he laughed, lightly tapping my shoulder to signal his departure.

"In case you change your mind, I placed something out for you to wear on the bed. All these nice clothes and he never wears them…"

He meant well, and I'd admit for a 23 year old my social standings were reduced to attending galas meant solely for enticing future investors, and scoping out the lonely few who considered themselves 'competitors'. But I'm not your average 23 year old, having run a major conglomerate at the tender age of 17 and maintain its success thus far. Newfound resolution chiming sweetly in my head, I returned to business as usual.

Let the torment begin.

-O-O-

It was the fifth outfit I tried out, and with a mere half hour left to throw something on and doll myself up for the party I was caught in quite the indecisive pickle.

Sigh.

Tonight was going to be a defining moment in my career as a model. Under the guise of a "Halloween Bash", many potential modelling agency scouts were using the opportunity to observe potential clientele in their 'natural environment' before setting up an interview. After the Kate Moss incident, most agencies take heed to such events least they hire another pretty promising face that will bring nothing but negative press.

I received this information as a tip off from Ms. Klum about the true nature of the event; after seeing how hard I worked for the past three months to reclaim the coveted title as 'Angel', she saw it in my best interest that I start venturing forth and solidify myself in the industry. I owe her my life after this, literally.

Newfound zeal at hand I searched even more hysterically to find the right outfit that will knock 'em dead and show that I'm a force to be reckoned with, and do justice to Heidi's spy work in the process.

Fifteen minutes left, and still nothing caught my eye!

I had reached the very end of my petit closet, and there it was hanging as daintily as the day it was stored away. It was a short, emerald green tube dress that glittered like the night sky, a Christmas present that I knew cost mother a hefty bit from her pay check. When Mai started taking me on shopping outings with her, occasionally buying me a few new outfits when the payroll came bountiful, I saw the envy in mom's eyes despite trying to show her gratitude to the younger wealthier woman. I saw how it ground against her every nerve to know that she was inept to buy the things I was being offered, and despite my many attempts at refusing the gifts, Mai insisted she buy them for me if just to see me wear something refreshing when we go out.

My mother's pride seemed to overpower her finances the day she bought me that dress, but I knew she had her reasons and I was grateful all the more for it. Sure it wouldn't be one of the more classy designer ensembles that most of the party attendees would be wearing, but it had greater value than the fashion world could ever attach to it.

Recalling the event was a Halloween party, I quickly got to work on my makeup to look as "glamorously ghoulish" as possible. What I ended up creating was a Tinkerbell incarnate considering the effect the fairy glitter dust brought to my features, but with no time to spare it would have to do. Teasing my hair with a brush I allowed my long auburn locks to flow loosely, pinning a few small butterfly clips in my hair for added effect. I completed the ensemble with nude stockings and green pumps given to me by my favourite blonde fashionista.

Honk! Honk!

The taxi I hired for the night finally arrived, and with not a second to spare I grabbed the nearest black clutch purse I had and at last made my way to the fateful event.


It was evident that no regards at expense was paid at decorating the event, with even the infamous pink carpet signature to Victoria's Secret rolled out, elegantly guiding its guests into the hotel's ballroom. Ghoul with a glamorous twist was kept strongly in coordination with the theme of the party, as strings of sparkling spider web was draped around the magnificent chandelier and ceiling, complete with creepy critters, and renditions of famous model poses of the past were carved from the pumpkins favoured for the season, lighting the lounge areas with a subtle pink glow.

Music was soon blasted in my ears as the DJ changed the track to another upbeat song, attempting to attract more guests to the neon lit marble dancefloor. Looking around I saw more people clothed in simple cocktail wear rather than costumed, but before the heat of embarrassment could rise to my face, Lady Gaga passed by reminding me that I wasn't alone in my unique fashion choice. I couldn't help but silently smile at her latest contraption of clothing.

Unfortunately I was not given a moment of peace to enjoy the festive environment as the minute I accepted the shrimp from the passing waiter, a few of the media guests were casually making their way to my side, the glint of a new hot story blazing in their prying eyes.

"Shizuka darling, kiss kiss," the vermin entertainment journalist called Ashlan Gorse bellowed, champagne flute delicately clutched beneath well manicured fingers. I just knew her purpose was to try and get that one-on-one interview with me, but I refused to give her the honour of twisting my words around and desecrating both my name and Duke's in the process.

"Ashlan, always the pleasure to see you." Yeah right.

"Interesting ensemble, care you say who you're wearing?" No cameras or microphone were involved, only a nonchalant pose from the older woman awaiting a reply as though her question was harmless chatter.

"Just something my personal stylist concocted. If you may excuse me, I'd like to enjoy the night before reading your filth in the morning" and without another word I gracefully made my way to the bar to relieve the lump in my throat. That was a hell of a façade I played for her, but I had to grow a spine somehow and stand up to those low lives.

Although I kept my promise and discontinued a relationship with Duke, the man was still persistent in taking me out with him almost everywhere he went during his stay in America, making no reservations at keeping his affection for me on a low key. I was practically thrust into the limelight I had been feverishly avoiding except when necessary, and although it brought great publicity to my name, I was never recognized as anything more than 'The Dungeon Master's hot model flame'.

So I counted his departure last week as a blessing for it gave me a chance to mature into the model I have been working towards being. However, no one seem to care how many magazine spreads I did or catwalks I dominated, for they were all more interested in whether Duke and I would maintain a long distance relationship, one that I hadn't cared much for. I would always have a soft spot in my heart for Duke, but the feelings we shared were one-sided, and in the pit of my stomach I feared the worst where my heart was leading me.


Releasing the tension in my arms with a good old fashion stretch, I took the small break as an opportunity to glimpse at the clock on my work station and evaluate my progress. Almost midnight and I've completed enough reports to last the rest of the month that I'll be here, not too shabby.

I could rest for a minute before continuing work on the latest duel disk I had been modifying for months now, but every minute lost is another decline in revenue. It's a sacrifice, but one that must be made.

Ring. Ring.

Who the hell could be calling me at this ungodly hour?

Glancing at the flashing number on my screen I see it is none other than my darling brother, hopefully not beckoning me to drive him home from the party after having yet another alcoholic indiscretion. I hadn't known when he developed such a liking to alcohol, but I swear the instant we return home I'm burning the liquor cabinet to the ground, minus the one I have en cognito in my personal study quarters.

"Speak."

"Seto? Seto are you there? I'm hardly hearing you!" he screamed into the mouth piece, his voice drowned with each boom of the bass speakers behind him.

"Mokuba, go into another room and converse with me there, now!"

"Converse? No I'm not wearing my Converse shoes tonight."

"Get in another room!"

"Boom? Yeah the music is booming, didn't know you liked this techno stuff," he chuckled heartedly.

The conversation was pointless, so I hung up and text messaged him my orders. In no time he called back within a more audible environment.

"Sorry bout that Seto, this place is just crazy with celebs dancing and really having a great time. And guess what, I've only had one screwdriver thus far!"

He sounded so proud of his accomplishment; if only he could see the disappointment and fury etched on my features.

"Your first and last if you intend on staying in this country with me much longer," I practically growled at him. The message seemed to translate quite well as nervous laughter was followed thereafter.

"You done with those reports yet?" he managed to say, voice still somewhat shaken at my initial demand.

"Yeah, but I still have much—"

"No you don't. You are taking a break tonight before I come home and find out that you've worked yourself into a stroke. Seto, all you ever do is freakin' work all day, and now you're given a chance to socialize with real people your age and you refuse? Give me a break big brother!"

His exasperation at my work ethic humoured me, but his youthful mind had much to understand about the responsibilities bestowed upon me as company CEO.

"One day you'll understand Mokuba, I'm going back to my work."

"No, you're going to stay here and listen to me." A breath was taken, enough to build up the courage to continue to defy me before his lecture ensued.

"You're one of the best CEOs out there in the freakin' world Seto, you and everyone else knows that. No wonder KaibaCorp is practically ruling the whole of Japan's economy! If you really are as good as everyone knows you are, then taking one night out to relax and enjoy the luxurious life you lead will not send the company spiralling into debt. If that's your mentality, then I'm ashamed to succeed you as CEO if this is what it takes to be on top."

He hung up after releasing an audible sigh of desolation, and the pang I felt at his words was enough to send me to the shower and head to the event. He was right, taking a night out won't destroy the company, because I'm the best there is and tonight would be just another occasion to show the world how a real businessman runs things.


"Care for a drink Miss Shizuka?"

Pulling from my masochistic thought about being romantically involved with the devil himself, I soon realized I was staring into the eyes of another demon; Britannia, the tall statuesque intern that almost cost me my career a few months back. She was serving as a bartender for the night, most likely in hopes of returning on Ms. Turney's good side.

"Um, just a glass of water please; I don't drink alcohol."

The most grotesque expression took over her face, competing with the decorative ghouls in the ballroom, as she held her heart tightly simulating a cardiac arrest.

"What kind of celebrity are you? You have access and the money to the best booze in the world and you refuse? If I were…" she began, but quickly brushed off the comment as a bitter twist contorted her mouth before she regained her former composure.

"At least have sparkling water, or a soda or something so your peers think it's a chaser; that way you won't look like that much of a loser. No offence of course," she quickly added.

"A coca-cola sounds fine then, thank you." With a curt nod she proceeded to gather a glass for the cold beverage.

"Shizuka come dance with me!" one of my comrades beckoned as she hurried to my side, pulling me away from my position on the barstool in an attempt to hasten my movements.

"Hey, I didn't even get my drink as yet!"

"I'll make another when you return, go ahead and have some fun," Britannia offered. I was skeptical at first about her motives, but Adriana's persistence in my dancing with her removed all doubts for that moment if just to permit some enjoyment in my night.

-O-O-

The first place I needed to attend to was the bar. If I were ever going to survive the night, I was definitely going to need a strong stimulant to seduce me into thinking this was 'fun'. Upon entering the ballroom, I had spotted Mokuba in the lounge area playing comedian to an audience of supposed A-list celebrities, but the scene seemed too foreign for my tastes to interrupt.

Yes, a quiet corner by the bar musing on duel disk designs and dabbling them down on napkins was my oasis amidst this chaos. I settled into my haven and proceeded to order a glass of soothing vodka when the most disturbing sight caught my attention.

Naïve to the trouble that awaited her, the red-haired beauty in green basked in her mirth with her friends after a hearty dance before quickly grabbing the drink served to her, eager to quench her dehydrated body as she poured the filth into her mouth. The bartender was clever, and snuck the packet neatly in her palm as she poured the drink into the glass, fusing drug with drink as the carbonate reacted to the contaminant. The girl seemed unfazed at first, giving the effervescence in her glass a quick examine, but not well enough before she sealed her fate.

To the untrained eye you'd think nothing of the scene, but having once encountered such a familiar dilemma with someone foolish enough to think they could spike my brother's virgin Shirley Temple, I could practically taste the Rohypnol as it slithered down her slender throat. She asked for another before walking off to greet her peers once more, and I used the opening to have a few words with the supposed bartender as she proceeded to take my order.

"Grey Goose, straight, and I'll pass on the roofies thanks." She looked at me aghast, but not because I'd caught her in the act.

"If you think for one second that I'd place another woman's life on the line like that, then you must be the ruthless bastard everyone claims you are." She handed me the drink, challenging me with strong dark eyes.

"So you admit to drugging her?"

"A little Ecstasy never killed anyone. Besides, that stick-in-the-mud needs to learn to relax, so I figured I'd help a friend. And before you can even think about reporting what I did, remember this; you're partying with the celebs now where the booze runs like water and drugs are sold like candy, and no one is going to believe she didn't pay me to slip it in her drink so she could casually acquire her sin."

The bitch was right. This world of glitz and glamour promises to make all your Hollywood dreams come true, and in an instant it sucks you into its dark crevices of addictions and rehab, a tumultuous rollercoaster ride of high moments and downward spirals till you become nothing more than last week's news and today's tragedy. The modelling lifestyle breathed such moments; no one would believe she was spiked.

"Why not forget about the minor incident and just enjoy the show?" She nodded in the direction of the model chugging down one final glass before climbing onto the nearest table as the next track begun, seemingly played just for her.

I know I may be young
But I've got feelings, too
And I need to do what I feel like doing
So let me go and just listen

"Hey Seto, isn't that Shizuka?" I hadn't known when he appeared, but Mokuba was now at my side leading me towards the small crowd gathering to see the table dancer show off her moves. So it was her, the girl from the convention, this time donned as some sort of fairy or nymph looking as innocent as the last time I saw her. But watching her now...

Her body language was extremely sensual, quite contrary to the naïve girl I knew that always faltered every time she tried to strut the runway. The drug was taking its toll on her, but a part of me had to wonder how much of it really contributed to the vixen now gyrating in the air as she geared up for the first verse to commence.

All you people look at me like I'm a little girl
Well, did you ever think it'd be okay for me to step into this world
Always sayin' little girl don't step into the club
Well, I'm just tryin' to find out why 'cause dancing's what I love

Get it, get it, get it, get it, oh
Get it, get it, get it, get it, oh
Get it, get it, get it, get it, oh

Hips rocking back and forth, and body tensely pushing forth a generous bosom into the face of her spectators mimicking the harsh breathing of the songstress, she sexily flipped her hair for her audience before slowly ascending to stand once more and continue her performance. I do believe she is modelling the wrong runway; all she needs now is a pole and she'll be fully consumed in her element.

I know I may come off quiet, may come off shy
But I feel like talking, feel like dancing when I see this guy
What's practical, what's logical, what the hell who cares?
All I know is I'm so happy when you're dancing there

I'm a slave for you
I cannot hold it, I cannot control it

"She's amazing!" Mokuba heartedly commented, quite enjoying the spectacle before him.

"She's drugged. Get her down before she makes more of a fool of herself please."

"Are you serious Seto?" he asked quite baffled that I would declare such a thing, but the grave look I shot him proved this was no laughing matter. He moved to the forefront of the crowd putting forth his hand for her to take so we could carry her aside and sober her up, but she mistook his chivalry as an opening to bring her dancing to ground level.

I'm a slave for you
I won't deny it, I'm not tryin' to hide it

Passing the many lustful males her way, the vixen caressed faces as she walked on by, tempting and teasing her contenders for a dance until she locked eyes with me. Inwardly I dared her to bring her sex show near me, but it seemed that was my biggest mistake of the night.

Those around us foresaw her moves and decided to help her gain my full attention. A chair suddenly appeared behind me as though anticipating this fateful moment the entire night, and as she drew nearer she tried to push me down to sit. Last I checked I wasn't the mutt, and I refused to go down without a fight wanting nothing to do with this display. But her peers thought otherwise as two equally strong men guided me to my seat with a forceful shove, ensuring that I was not going to rise from my spot until she was done.

Baby, don't you wanna dance up on me

To another time and place

If I wanted a lapdance I would have joined a gentleman's club, but it seemed for once the events of my life were beyond my control. At least she was fully clothed. Despite my inner protests and face of disgust however, I couldn't help the sensation that was steadily descending to my loins. Kami almighty I'm getting aroused, and by her of all people.

The crowd continued their cheers of delight, but I felt her pace begin to decline a bit as she turned to face me, eyes wide with desire and lust, and hips still gyrating as she ground against my groin. Her hands soon roamed along the exposed portion of my chest made open by the tailored slit in my shirt, but as swiftly as contact was made it ended, and despite my rational side silently thanking the brevity of the contact, my primal urges begged for more. This dance surely needed to end now.

Oh baby, don't you wanna dance up on me
Leaving behind my name and age

With that final line of the bridge sung she collapsed onto my shoulders, exhausted most likely, and hands slung round my neck making the scene look all too compromising. As the crowd around us became more congested, Mokuba took that as his cue to come to my aid and get us the hell out. As light as she seemed, the dead weight she was packing made it difficult for Mokuba to carry her himself, so I gave him the keys instead to bring the car around so I could escape from the commotion with the damsel.

"Mr. Kaiba, are you and Shizuka an item now? Was this just a mere coincidence? Does Devlin know about you two?" a blonde reporter screamed as she fought her way tooth and nail to get closer to hear my response. But I gave her not a chance as I shoved harder at the patrons who refused to let us pass.

I saw the Audi pull up towards the curb, and I could've care less how I may have destroyed the leather interior as I quickly placed her inside to lie down whilst I took over the driver's seat from Mokuba. I looked back to inspect our guest passenger and for a moment her eyes began to flutter, the few words she spoke garbled as she tried to make sense of her environment.

"Shizuka, are you okay?" Mokuba asked, but all the girl could do was slowly turn her head in his direction before her body gave up the fight and forced her into a slumber so her system could recover.

"Where to now Seto?"

"I would take her home but I don't have the keys to her apartment, and asking them to let us in with her in this condition will do us no good."

"You know where she lives?" he asked with a petit impish grin, fishing for the facts within my statement.

"If you're done I'd like to focus on finding a secure location to hold her away from the media frenzy."

"You do know where she lives!" A look of pure disbelief and humour was etched all over his face; I could punch him for thinking as perversely as he was.

"Long story, don't bother questioning it."

"Yeah right, you're giving me details when we're settled! Big brother's got game after all," he chuckled.

"OW!" Now he really deserved the punch. "So we're taking her to our place then?" he commented after taking note of the direction we were headed.

"It'll be less conspicuous than going to a hotel, and it'll give us a chance to let her detox before she goes back in public."

"It's moments like these I wish people would get to see the real you, the compassionate brother that you are," Mokuba silently mused, turning to his window to drink in the night life before him.

So I'm not as devious as people think, but the reason that this girl is getting the better end of that stick is beyond me. There is something about her I can't quite figure out, and tonight she proved she has just as many layers as I do beneath our respective façades. Maybe we're more alike than I'm comfortable admitting, but until her gullibility escapes her shall she gain my respect.

As gorgeous as she is, she's still a child at heart, one that—

Wait…did I just say she's gorgeous?


Author's Note: Many thanks to Most Unlikely Angel for beta-ing this fic for me. It could have come out better than I had planned, especially the ending, but prolonged writing kinda killed the vibes for me I'm sorry. I do hope I was still able to produce something worthy of your reading time, and before I get sued let me disclaim the song used. Sexy dance hit was courtesy Britney Spears, a fav of mine called "Slave 4 you".