A/N: I can't believe it too, but yes, it's an early update! I just graduated from my business course, so all I've been doing is laze around. Speaking of which, I won't be as free anymore next month in October when work begins, so I wanted to squeeze in a chapter while I could.

Thank you to all those who reviewed! Reviews are what keep me going, so please comment if you have something to say!

Oh, and please remember, there are two sides to every story.

I hope you enjoy.


:Chapter 9:

The interior of the expensive, posh SUV was quiet.

Yashiro was used to the occasional bouts of companionable silence between Ren and himself. There was rarely any awkwardness when they worked. They had been manager and charge for so long now that working alongside Ren had become second nature to him. Ren was easy to work with. He was polite, kind, cooperative, and considerate. Unlike most celebrities out there who sang a different tune after they became famous, Ren remained the same amiable, down-to-earth personality he was before his debut. Yashiro wasn't a fool, though.

He was aware of one aspect about his charge. Behind Ren's gentleness prowled—to put it bluntly—a dark, restless beast. It was a beast many were unaware of, and Yashiro himself chose to ignore it out of respect for the other man's privacy. Ren never allowed that beast to surface and interfere with his work, and that alone was more than enough for Yashiro. As for what that beast consisted of, Yashiro wasn't sure. He'd only seen flickers of that darkness before.

It was sufficient for him to simply realise that it should stay caged.

The manager, dressed in a brown, pinstripe suit, relaxed against the leather of the passenger seat, staring listlessly at the streets and buildings flying past the car window. His hands were on the suitcase on his lap.

"You know the whole cast of Dark Moon are celebrating your win, right?" Yashiro asked. "You're the only one not present at your own party."

Ren's dark brow furrowed from where he sat by the wheel. "They're throwing a celebration as well today?" he asked. "Wasn't the festivity after the awards show enough for them?"

Yashiro folded his arms. "I hate to shock you, but most winners of the Star Awards tend to celebrate for weeks after they win. It isn't easy, the award you got. Not everyone is a workaholic like you, you know. You didn't have to religiously return to your work schedule today. All the directors said we could take a break from filming."

Ren laughed quietly, large hands skillfully guiding the steering wheel. "I apologize, Yashiro-san, that I had to drag you along for work."

"I'm glad you know," Yashiro huffed. He became pensive. "Anyway, I think you should go for the party today. Momose-san personally texted me saying she wanted you to go."

"We don't have the time today." Ren sounded disinterested.

Yashiro glanced at the actor. For someone as clever and discerning as Ren, he did not seem to realise Momose's feelings for him. Or maybe he did, but chose not to even acknowledge it. Being such a famous film star's manager, Yashiro was, of course, very alert to Ren's love life. He had to. It was part of the job. The media was always lurking like hungry vultures to find out whom Ren dated, and Yashiro wanted to make sure nothing that could tarnish his name was revealed.

However, Yashiro did feel a bit more relaxed because the public was so enamored with Ren that he would never be blamed if anything scandalous leaked. An example of this was several years ago, when Ren had once been rumored—it was actually untrue—to have an affair with a married actress. The media had tried to paint the actor in a poor light by stating he was a homewrecker, only to be slammed and rebuffed by millions of angry netizens. They sent hate mail to the tabloids, and composed death threats on social media to the married woman. While Yashiro had been relieved Ren's reputation remained unblemished, he did feel sorry for the married actress.

Her reputation was in shreds.

"We do have time," Yashiro said. "I mean, we can squeeze enough time for the party, and you know it."

Ren sighed. "I'm not keen on partying today."

"Oh, be honest," Yashiro grinned. "You just can't be bothered to meet Momose-san and the rest."

Ren's dark eyes glittered amusedly. "Please don't put words in my mouth."

"I know Kyoko-chan is your entire world now, and all that," Yashiro sighed dreamily, "But try to entertain the other girls a tiny bit too. You're a star. You need to network."

The car slowly came to a halt by a red traffic light.

"By the way," Yashiro added, sobering. "I forgot to tell you. Kijima-kun spoke to Kyoko-chan last night."

Ren's exotic eyes darkened further, so that they looked almost black. "Ah," he said. "Yes."

"He was trying to scare her, that's what," Yashiro explained disapprovingly. "He told her that you abandoned all your past lovers before her, and she might be next."

Ren's perfect mouth was twisted in a taut line, but he said nothing.

"Sometimes I wonder what on earth goes through Kijima's head," Yashiro griped. "The two of you have always been friends, but the way he acts—"

"What else did he say to her?"

Yashiro blinked at the flat tone of Ren's deep baritone voice.

"I can't really remember now," he said, thinking hard. Then his head jerked. "Oh! Right. He called you a… hunter, or something. Anyway he made you out to be something like a predator, and told her to watch out."

"I see," Ren answered softly. His obsidian eyes were coolly distant. Then the traffic lights flashed back to green, and he smoothly maneuvered the gears of his SUV so that it set off again.

Yashiro glanced at the actor. It was, as usual, hard to tell what he was thinking.

A predator? Yashiro privately agreed. Ren rarely acted as one, but he had the makings of a predator. He was of towering build; he was an alpha male possessing incredible physical prowess, and his shrewd intelligence was unnerving sometimes. The dark beast lurking within him was the embodiment of a predator. However, Ren tamed that beast well. As far as Yashiro knew, he didn't allow himself to behave dangerously towards others, despite the fact that, perhaps, a part of him wanted to.

Did Kijima call him a predator because he, too, was aware of said beast caged within Ren's inner thoughts? Kijima was a pretty sharp fellow, and like Ren, he was mysterious and enigmatic. Yashiro had always thought this was why he and Ren were on such good terms. The two of them had similarities, and although they were rather guarded with each other, there was a form of mutual respect between them. However, after what had happened yesterday, Yashiro wondered if this respect would last. Still, Ren was no fool. He knew that Kijima couldn't be trusted from the very beginning.

"What do you intend to do about this?" Yashiro wanted to know. "Kyoko-chan looked rather frightened afterwards, you know. It can't be good for her or the baby."

"Some things will have to be remedied," Ren answered calmly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Yashiro grumbled.

He had always noticed that there was a veil of mystery surrounding Ren and Kyoko's relationship. He wasn't sure what, but there was something that more than met the eye about them. Ren wasn't dishing, and as much as Yashiro wanted to know, he decided to refrain himself from asking. Kyoko looked happy enough most of the time (save for last night), and Yashiro was just glad Ren could finally settle down with a decent girl. While it was true there was a huge gap in status between them, Yashiro had faith in Kyoko that she was not using Ren for his wealth or fame. Yashiro could tell she was in love with him; there was this dazed, passionate expression in her eyes whenever he was around. He doubted if Kyoko even knew how starstruck she looked in Ren's presence. It was feverish, the depth at which she seemed to feel for him. Ren's relationship with Kyoko was not like his previous ones; there was a deep intensity between them that made even Yashiro unsettled.

Yashiro hadn't forgotten how, a year ago, Ren had asked him to investigate this strange, unknown girl then.

"Well," he said, since it was clear Ren wasn't answering, "Just make sure you take good care of her and the baby. You're going to be a father soon already, so you gotta be more careful."

The corners of Ren's flawless lips rose. "I know."

His manager slyly watched him.

"Look at you," Yashiro quipped gleefully. "You're positively glowing! Are you this excited to become a father?"

"Hmmm." His lips rose further upwards, and his eyes gleamed curiously.

Yashiro's eyes grew round behind his glasses. "Also… Have you decided who's going to become the baby's godfather?"

Ren chuckled. "Not yet."

"Well, I don't mean to brag," Yashiro bragged, "but I would make an amazing godfather. People say I'm great with kids."

"Of course."

"Not to mention we've been friends for so long, you and I."

"Of course," Ren agreed merrily.

"So… Will you make me—?"

"No."

Yashiro gaped, then sulked.

Ren glanced at him, his chuckles rising into rich laughter.

"I'm joking, Yashiro-san," he murmured mirthfully. "Please don't be too displeased with me."

Yashiro glared. "I can't believe you messed with me like that. I was so disappointed!"

"I can't decide anything for now," Ren said gently. "As you might expect, I need to discuss your suggestion with the child's mother first."

Yashiro gave him a peeved look. "Kyoko-chan will totally approve of me as a godfather!"

Ren glanced at his phone, which was perched upright on a tiny stand atop the dashboard of the car.

"Perhaps not," he replied wryly. "I do not think she is looking for a paternal figure right now."

Yashiro also stared at the smartphone, distracted. Ren had been glancing at it for some time now while he drove, and upon taking a closer look the startled manager realised that the screen was switched on, where the GPS display was showing.

That was strange. Ren was a driver with an uncanny sense of direction. He never needed a GPS to guide him, not even when the filming locations of his various projects were at the most distant and unknown of places. All he had to do was read up the address, and he was good to go. This was the first time Yashiro had seen him using GPS on his phone.

Yashiro frowned. He could see a small cursor moving around on the GPS display, and it was in a street within Tokyo that was most certainly not where he and Ren currently were.

Comprehension dawned.

"Hold on a minute!" he exclaimed. "You're—you're tracking someone!"

Ren made no move to confirm or deny it.

"But how is that even—?" Yashiro's jaw dropped. "Did you download some GPS tracker app into your phone? But this means you downloaded it into a second phone too. Whose phone are you tracking?"

"I wonder who?" Ren said sardonically. He reached out and turned his phone off.

Yashiro's brown eyes nearly popped from his sockets and into the lenses of his glasses. "Are you tracking Kyoko-chan?"

Ren did not reply.

"But… how?" Yashiro sputtered. "Are you saying she agreed to let you track her? She let you install the app in her phone?"

"How should I put it?" Ren drawled mockingly. "Kyoko was slumbering rather deeply last night. She was very tired."

"I want to ask what tired her out, but I'd rather not know," Yashiro muttered. He stared accusingly at Ren. "So she was asleep when you did it? Are you insane, Ren? You're tracking someone without their consent—"

Ren's onyx eyes flashed. "That so-called someone you are referring to is the mother of my child. I am tracking a woman who carries my flesh and blood within her. She is fragile, and she is delicate. I wish to watch over her. Is that so wrong?"

Yashiro was taken aback. It was hard to argue with that. There was something very compelling and hypnotic in the way Ren spoke—his voice silky, calm, and undeterred as he vocalized his points—that made it hard to confront him.

"Well," he said weakly. "You should at least let her know you're watching over her."

Ren smiled, a humorless curve of the sculpted lips.

"An agreement was made between Kyoko and I, Yashiro-san," he said. "While I believe she will not break her side of the agreement, I require some method of precaution; a backup plan, if you will. If not, I would be at a complete disadvantage."

"Agreement?" Yashiro echoed. "What agreement?"

"An agreement," Ren responded, unruffled, "that she will return home tonight."

"What do you mean?"

There was a short silence, broken only by the luxurious hum of the car engine.

Ren glanced at the time displayed in digital letters on the dashboard and prompted, rather abruptly, "When is the party?"

Yashiro blinked, annoyed at the change of topic, but grudgingly decided to entertain him. "Soon. You mean you want to go now?"

"I figured we should get it over and done with," Ren responded thoughtfully, turning the steering wheel. "We can drop by for perhaps a few minutes before we leave."

Yashiro nodded sourly, understanding that this was a form of Ren's means to dismiss the earlier subject. Much as he disliked it, he knew there was no way he could force Ren to tell him what was going on if he was unwilling.

As he listed the address—a five-star hotel called the Blue Princess Hotel—of the party to Ren, a thought swept across his mind.

It seemed the dark beast was not as caged as he had previously thought.


Kyoko stared ominously at Sho from her side of the table, and he stared back from where he sat opposite.

The air was thick with tension.

Kyoko could only curse her bad luck. Still, it was nobody's fault but her own. She had completely forgotten about Sho this morning, and had happily returned to her apartment without considering the possible danger of his laying in wait there. When she saw him, she had tried to flee, but her limp made it near impossible. After grabbing hold of her scarf, he had boldly tied a knot and gagged her with it—in broad daylight!—and then scooped her up, before making his way back to his car to stuff her body inside it like a hostage, and to slam her briefcase into the boot of the car.

Her muffled cries went unheard by the neighborhood, and her kicks and punches were no match against his superior strength. Kyoko also hadn't dared to exert too much of her own strength at him (although she was sure it was futile all the same against his way more powerful physique); she was afraid that it might affect the baby. She didn't know much about pregnancies, but she at least knew expectant mothers weren't supposed to be involved in anything too violent, and that included being abducted.

And here she was, sitting in Sho's apartment (the same apartment she had often visited back during their relationship), glowering. He had carried her over his broad shoulder from the parked car—driven by his chauffeur towards where he lived—and took the lift into his apartment, ignoring her muffled, incoherent yells that he release her. She was sure he knew exactly what she was saying despite not being able to understand her.

The moment he removed the gag and lowered her onto the couch, she had instantly bolted to the door, only to find that it had automatically locked after shutting behind him. Kyoko had screamed at Sho, demanding for the digital passcode to unlock the door, but he ignored her. After a couple more rounds of screaming while he boredly placed his hands over his pierced ears, she gave up, coughing. Her throat felt dry and hoarse.

"I'll report you to the police!" Kyoko wheezed, reaching into the pocket of her jeans. "You'll be arrested for assault and kidnap—where's my phone?"

He dangled the device adroitly from his ringed fingers. "I pick-pocketed it," Sho said matter-of-factly.

Before Kyoko could lunge at him and attempt to murder him, Shoko, his beautiful, tall manager, had appeared from one of the rooms, looking confused and weary. Dressed in nothing but a night gown and slippers (she looked like a lingerie supermodel, with her long blonde hair glossy and loose around her shoulders), she doubled over in shock when she saw a disheveled Kyoko, and then turned to Sho, demanding what was going on. Sensing a ray of hope for her escape, Kyoko began spewing the list of horrendous crimes Sho had committed against her just minutes ago.

Shoko instantly looked horrified at what Sho had done, but instead of forcing him to let Kyoko go, she kindly asked the latter to 'rest here and relax with some tea and buns first to make up for his roughness', adding that they rarely had guests over in Sho's apartment, save for Mimori. Kyoko wanted to refuse (she was a hostage, not a guest), but Shoko was such a nice, warm person unlike her charge, and she decided she would stay just to appease Shoko for maybe half an hour or so. Fuming at Sho, she ignored him as she followed Shoko to the dining table, and sat down.

The woman shrieked and jumped when a piece of fabric was abruptly thrown in her face. It took her a second to realise it was her scarf. Angrily plucking the fluttering material from her face, she seethed at Sho, baring her teeth in rage. "What was that for, you dickhead?"

"Cover that obscenity on your neck," Sho countered, glaring right back at her. He had seated himself on the opposite side of the table, and ran an irritated hand through his blonde spiky hair. "It's repulsive."

Kyoko's cheeks turned as red as blood. She had completely forgotten about the love bite Ren had left! Oh, god. Did this mean Shoko—who was in the kitchen at the moment—had seen it too? The manager hadn't said anything, but she possessed more tact than Sho, anyway.

Rapidly Kyoko coiled the soft scarf—the same one he had used to gag her—around her neck, her heart pounding in embarrassment.

"Did he give you that repulsive mark?" Sho sneered. He looked a mixture of condescension and resentment.

"I don't know who you're talking about," Kyoko said haughtily.

"You'd better start fessing up," Sho said dangerously. "I saw the awards show on TV last night. We have a lot to talk about, you and I."

His words sent a wave of bitter déjà vu crashing into Kyoko's head. Ren had said the exact same thing to her the night before. Probably not in the same wording, but the meaning was similar enough.

She clenched her teeth at the frustration of it all.

"What is wrong with you men?" Kyoko raged, slamming her hand on the table. "I don't owe any of you an explanation! Am I some kind of a child? Do I need permission for everything I do? This is a free country, and I can do what I want, and it will be absolutely none of your damned business, Sho!"

"It is my damned business when my ex hooks up with my biggest rival!" Sho shouted back, eyes blazing sapphire fire. "You think I don't know that you're doing this to rub it in my face?"

"Oh my god," Kyoko snapped incredulously. "How conceited can you get? Do you honestly think that everything revolves around you?"

"Yes," Sho said arrogantly. "I do think that way. Deal with it."

Kyoko's mouth fell open. "You—you—" she spluttered.

"So start explaining now," Sho said coldly. "Were you staying with Tsuruga Ren? Is that why you've been missing for the past month?"

She spat contemptuously at him. "Wouldn't you want to know."

"Yes, I do," Sho retorted. "I'm disgusted that you hooked up with that piece of shit stain—"

Kyoko got up from her chair, and stalked right over to where he was seated, the ends of her scarf fluttering. His curious expression turned into an alarmed and shocked one when she violently grabbed fistfuls of his leather coat, and tugged him closer towards her, so that her face—scrunched up in fury—was mere inches from his.

"If you dare to call Tsuruga-san that again," she hissed viciously, "I'll carve your face out with a knife."

He stared back at her, blue eyes wide and taken off-guard.

Kyoko couldn't help it. The moment Sho had addressed Ren using such a term, a streak of anger and hatred had risen and bubbled intently inside her abdomen, rendering Kyoko in a near murderous state. She couldn't help being so protective of Ren. He was everything Sho was not: kind, gentle, understanding, humble, and loving. Sho would never be able to grasp those traits, because, unlike Ren, he was too caught up in himself to care for the others around him.

Wasn't that why he had kidnapped Kyoko? It was to confront her for wounding that precious pride of his. It was all about himself. It had probably never even once crossed his mind that Kyoko was together with Ren because she loved the actor, and not because she wanted to rub it in Sho's face. Of course, in Sho's perspective, it was unforgivable for him to see her with another man, but it wasn't unforgivable for him to cheat on her with Mimori. His twisted, egomaniacal logic made her want to laugh and sneer at the same time. How could she have once loved him?

"Kyoko-chan?" Shoko's wary voice spoke hesitantly.

Kyoko hastily let go of Sho's black coat—bits of extravagant ebony feathers from it floated past her fingers—and turned to face Shoko. The other woman was carrying a tray, where three steaming mugs of tea and a plate of hot cross buns lay.

"Is everything okay?" Shoko asked in concern. She placed the tray onto the table. "Please don't fight anymore. Sho, stop aggravating Kyoko-chan. You know she is... well, in a delicate condition right now."

Kyoko flinched at the words, and she stole a glance at Sho. His lips were now pressed in an icy line.

"Which brings me to another point," he said softly. "Was Tsuruga Ren telling the truth during his speech last night? Did he really knock you up?"

"No comment," Kyoko answered tersely, lowering herself back onto the chair. She glanced politely at Shoko, who sat down right next to her by the dining table. "Shoko-san, thank you for the tea."

"You're welcome," Shoko said kindly, handing her a mug. She smiled, changing the subject. "Speaking of last night, you looked so beautiful at the Star Awards. I almost didn't recognise you."

Kyoko rested her hands uneasily over the comforting heat of the mug, but didn't drink it. "Thank you."

"You didn't recognise her," Sho pointed out disdainfully to his manager. "It wasn't until I recognised her myself that you did."

Shoko glared at him. "Sho—"

"It shocked me yesterday, you know," Sho went on, unperturbed, "that a plain girl like our Kyoko could still hope to look good. I suppose makeup is pretty miraculous, huh?"

"Oh, shut up," Kyoko said, through gritted teeth.

"I don't want to," he bit petulantly back at her. "I'm pretty pissed at you right now. I want to make you feel as miserable as you should feel."

Kyoko's skinny hand tightened over the handle of her mug. "You're a sick son of a bitch."

"How about you?" Sho rebutted icily. "Tell me, Kyoko. Judging from that sickening mark on your neck—" Kyoko blanched. "—I'm guessing you've been spreading your legs for Tsuruga Ren throughout the past month?"

Her cheeks caught on fire.

"Sho, stop it," Shoko said sharply. "Don't be so rude."

"I'm not being rude, I'm being factual," Sho said curtly. "Look at her. That cardigan she's wearing. Those jeans. The scarf. They're all branded items. There's no way she could have afforded all those by herself." He jabbed a heavily ringed finger at Kyoko. "You're Tsuruga Ren's personal whore, aren't you? What, is he your sugar daddy now?"

Kyoko shot him a scathing look. It wasn't true. Yes, Ren had bought her many gifts, but she did earn her own keep to some extent. She cooked homemade dinners for him, and used the money from her own salary as a part-time social worker to purchase the groceries and ingredients to make said dinners.

Alright, perhaps otherwise she did rely on him financially, which was why her usually full-time job had now dwindled into a part-time obligation. Moving into Ren's home had helped lessen her monetary burden significantly; she no longer had to worry about paying utility bills for her own apartment (or his house). Ren had often told her that she need not continue working as a social worker—the tough, strenuous demands of her dealing with dysfunctional families made him worry—but she loved doing what she did too much to give it up.

Besides, she was never the type to become unemployed and allow someone to support her entirely; she always made sure she did what she could to earn her keep, and often refused to let him take her out to posh restaurants to dine.

"How about you?" Kyoko demanded, incensed. "Who are you to call me a whore when you're pretty much a manslut yourself?"

Sho curled his lip sneeringly. "Don't call me a manslut when your sugar daddy is one too."

Kyoko stood up, pounding her clenched fist on the table. "Tsuruga-san is not a manslut! Don't you dare call him names—"

"Well, isn't someone possessive?" Sho taunted. "I'm sorry to rain on your parade, but your precious Tsuruga-san has slept with tons of women before you. More than I have, maybe."

Kyoko's head jerked backwards, as if he had physically burnt her with his statement.

"Oh, looks like I struck a nerve," Sho jeered. "Are you going to cry? I know it hurts, but that's the truth. You're just one of many in his bed, Kyoko. So quit parading around with the illusion that you're special to Tsuruga Ren, and leave him now."

"Sho," Shoko said in disapprobation. "Stop it."

Kyoko took a deep breath, and then stared at the singer straight into the eye, making sure he saw the conviction in her countenance.

"It doesn't matter," she said.

The cockiness in his visage faltered for a brief second. "What?"

"I said it doesn't matter," Kyoko repeated tightly. Her mind—the rational side of her—was screaming at her to stop, but she couldn't. Her lips formed the words—words that came straight from her heart. "He can have slept with all the women in the world, but he belongs to me now. He's mine."

Both singer and manager appeared stunned; they were speechless for a moment.

And then Sho cracked his mouth open again.

"Are you insane?" he asked disbelievingly. "Do you honestly believe that Tsuruga Ren belongs to you? Do you think—let me get this straight…" He laughed mirthlessly. "Do you actually believe that you're going to be the last woman in his bed?"

Kyoko said softly, with a confidence she wasn't sure she felt, "I do. Because he's not like you, Sho."

Maybe she was just making it up to keep her pride intact in front of Sho. She wasn't even certain herself. A turmoil of conflicting emotions went rampage in her tightening chest. She wanted to believe in what she was saying, but common sense warned her not to behave as recklessly. Yes, Ren was not like Sho, but everyone knew he was still a notorious playboy. As respectful as he might be towards women (a contrast against Sho, who was rather callous towards his lovers), Kyoko was mutinously aware that his bedmates came in impressive numbers. Netizens online liked to call his past lovers the 'vast harem of the Emperor of the Night'. Many actresses had occasionally been involved in malicious cat-fights on-set as a bid to vie for his attention.

Ren was famous for never picking favorites; when asked in interviews which of his exes had made the biggest impression on him, he always said that they had all been lovely women, but never named one that stood out. People said he was simply playing fair, but this only spurred the determination of women—or the current member of his harem—to try to impress him as the special one that 'stood out'.

"Well, you're wrong," Sho said acidly. "He's going to dump you sooner or later. He's just like me. We're men. We're rotten bastards, and you had better get used to it." He leaned forward, so that the exotic feathers of his coat brushed against the edge of the table. "Did you know he once slept with Mimori too?"

Kyoko took a sharp inhale of breath. She suddenly remembered what Mimori had told her during the Star Awards—that she shared a common mutual form of relation with her.

They were both exes of their current lovers.

"W—When?" Kyoko asked shakily before she could stop herself, struggling to catch air.

"Some time last year," Sho said, satisfaction returning to his sky blue eyes as he watched her composure begin to crumble once more.

"That's impossible!" Kyoko fired at him. "Tsuruga-san was single the whole of last year!"

"Yeah, because he wasn't dating anyone," Sho retorted impatiently. "No one knew he'd been privately sleeping around with Mimori. Haven't you heard of fuck buddies, Kyoko? Don't tell me you're still an innocent, dumbass little girl."

The small frame of her body jolted at the crudeness of his wording. It felt like he had lashed at her with a whip.

Shoko said, "Sho—"

"They met," the singer cut in evenly, "when they were both shooting some stupid commercial together. He was all over her, as she with him, and they spent a couple nights together."

"Why are you telling me this?" Kyoko snarled at him, aggrieved. "I get it. He slept with a lot of people in the past. What's your point?"

"I'm trying to get to it, but you keep interrupting me," Sho snapped.

"Enough, Sho," Shoko intervened disapprovingly. "You're only making it worse." He simmered at her with an annoyed scowl, but surprisingly didn't argue.

The manager sighed and gazed apologetically at Kyoko. "Listen, Kyoko-chan. I don't normally agree with Sho about these things, but hear us out about this, alright? I'll explain."

"What is it?" Kyoko wanted to know wearily.

"About Mimori and Tsuruga-san," Shoko said. She glanced at Sho, who was now staring idly at his phone and pretending to ignore them. "This is what Mimori told us. She was very madly in love with him then, you know. When Mimori told Tsuruga-san that she wanted to pursue a proper relationship with him, he rejected her. Being a rather… proud and headstrong girl, she took it as a personal insult. In her point of view he was questioning that she wasn't desirable enough."

Kyoko could picture that. Mimori was similar to Sho in the sense that they were both proud people; no wonder they clicked well as a couple. They did not take rejection well. They did the rejecting, not the other way around. Sho was a clear indication of that; he had been furious at Kyoko and then abducted her for becoming Tsuruga Ren's newest bedmate, all because of his wounded pride.

Mimori might not be able to go as far as to abduct Ren, but she definitely would have retaliated against him in some other way. She was infamous—judging from past relationships—for being a rather spiteful and terrifying lover when scorned. What was Ren thinking, accepting her in his bed and then rejecting her? He definitely know of the dark rumors surrounding Mimori; anyone in showbiz was aware of the many tabloid articles penned in regards to this subject. Granted, a powerful man like him would not be daunted by a woman, but was she worth the hassle?

Her stomach churned as awful jealousy struck. Had Ren been so taken with Mimori's beauty that he had slept with her anyway, irregardless of her unpleasant temperament when crossed?

"Mimori said," Shoko continued carefully, "that she was determined to prove him wrong, that he would regret leaving her. She told him that she would make him sorry—that she was going to show him that he was making a huge loss by leaving her."

Kyoko swallowed hard.

"And Tsuruga-san," Shoko elaborated, "told her to do as she wished. He told her that he no longer felt anything for her, and he apologized."

"As you know, for a woman to hear that, it can be quite… agonizing. Determined to provoke some jealousy from Tsuruga-san—to prove, more than anything, to herself that he still felt something for her—she went and did the only thing she could: she seduced his number one rival."

Kyoko gasped.

No. No. It couldn't be.

"And that's how Mimori and I came about," Sho concluded calmly, looking up from his phone. He had been listening the whole time. "Now you know."

Kyoko told herself to breathe. She had to calm down. It was just a string of coincidences; a series of unfortunate events. Tsuruga-san didn't know that she had been dating Sho last year, anyway. He didn't even know who Kyoko was last year. The first time they had met was at Sho's party the following year. It wasn't his fault; he hadn't told Mimori to go after Sho. Granted, he was aware of her dangerous temper and ornery characteristics, but that didn't mean anything. It wasn't as if he could predict what Mimori would do. Skilled and experienced as he might be with women, there was no way he could read their mind.

Besides, it took two hands to clap. Mimori might have made the first move on Sho, but the most important—and crushing—part was that the singer had reciprocated and then pursued sexual relations with her. He hadn't tried to explain himself to Kyoko; in fact, he had rather bluntly told her they were over, and that Mimori had taken her place.

It was the memory of her heartbreak that made her choke. She no longer felt anything for Sho, but she remembered how desolate she had been upon discovering his infidelity. She had tossed and turned and cried many sleepless nights. She refused to eat. She refused to function.

She hadn't wanted to live anymore.

It was a wake-up call, really. Even if Mimori hadn't come along, another woman would have eventually taken Kyoko's place. Of that she was certain.

Sho suddenly stiffened as he stared back down at his phone, and his jaw visibly tightened.

"What is it?" Shoko inquired. She straightened up, and craned her neck over to see what he was looking at.

She tensed as her eyes raked the phone screen.

"What?" Kyoko said dully, without any genuine interest. "Did Mimori text you?"

Sho and his manager exchanged looks, heavy with a meaning she couldn't grasp.

Wordlessly, the singer lifted his phone, facing the screen towards her.

"I'm not interested," she commented acerbically.

"Kyoko," Sho said quietly, his voice, for the first time since their meeting today, devoid of hostility. "I think you should take a look."

The girl narrowed his eyes at him, and after a few seconds of reluctant contemplation, grudgingly stomped over so that her face was closer to the phone screen.

Her airways suddenly constricted.

It was a tabloid article he had been reading. The headlines stood out in bold, black letters:

"TSURUGA REN AND ITSUMI MOMOSE: CAUGHT KISSING OFF-SCREEN IN FRONT OF THE BLUE PRINCESS HOTEL THIS MORNING"

Kyoko's skin turned cold as the morbid words spun around her head, imprinting themselves into her retinas. She wanted to wrap her hands over her eyes, to shut everything out.

The photographs, just published a few hours ago, were undeniable.

Ren's tall figure stood outside the crystal glass doors leading to a hotel lobby. Dressed in a velvet coat, his dark hair was elegantly tussled.

He was caught in an embrace with Momose; her slender bare arms were wrapped around his dignified neck, and the large, generous mounds of her breasts—nearly spilling out of the low neckline of her black cocktail dress—rested snugly against his chest. The glossy, golden locks of her mane painted the sides of his cheeks.

That wasn't all. The photograph on Sho's phone screen captured an angle which laid bare a sight she never wanted to see.

Momose's lips—plump, soft, and starkly scarlet—were pressed intimately against Ren's.

Kyoko stumbled away from Sho. Her knees buckled.

She could hear the singer's alarmed voice calling her name; it sizzled like background static in her ears.

Dizziness flooded her temples.

She gasped. She was dreaming. Yes. It was all a dream. This couldn't be true.

Sho had taken out a second phone. Hers. In his grip, she could see that her phone screen was lit, and that an incoming call from a contact name filled the display.

Tsuruga Ren.

Do you actually believe that you're going to be the last woman in his bed?

I do. Because he's not like you, Sho.

Darkness swam into her vision. Her body felt weak and helpless, and her legs gave way.

And then she knew no more.


:tbc:


A/N: Next chapter, Sho vs. Ren.