Chapter 35!

Am I the only one who finds the idea of a "work party" incredibly ironic?

The pounding music reverberated throughout the club, nearly making my head spin. It was a surprise that Emily Hart had been let into the establishment at all – I definitely looked a little too young to be allowed in, but the whole place had been booked solid to congratulate the crew for having concluded an entire month of filming, and these blasted LA beefcakes of bouncers had done the bare minimum of ID checks before I was dragged in with the rest of the filming team. With my blazing red locks and auburn pumps that Jelly had set aside for "nicer occasions", I hoped I resembled a regular patron at the nightclub, though my subconscious emblazoned the title of "Hizuri the Hooker" in my head.

Bonding over drinks and celebration is understandable, but I doubted that any actual storyboarding would get done on the dance floor, though I looked forward to seeing how my seasoned brothers "worked" these office get-togethers. Well maybe not Kichirou, who was slightly cheesed off that he couldn't flirt with any women, as we had to keep up the image that we were somewhat of a ragtag couple for Sakura's viewing pleasure. Then again, I wouldn't let him spoil my night – my second brother had still been keeping mum about whether my emotional blackmail had worked to make him leave the business to do what he really wanted. At least it seemed he'd forgiven me for the most part.

The production staff now recognised me as more than a rookie with a lucky break, having pulled off a successful gamble in pushing Sakura into the argument scene without anyone's knowledge other than Director Ogata's. The reservations I felt about letting loose among LME employees, albeit co-workers I cared for, was still an idea that I should be avoiding lest someone figured out who I was or could be. But there was something within me that was beginning to believe that my identity wasn't set in stone. There was a longing to be known as more than Etsuko Hizuri, daughter of Mogami Kyoko or Tsuruga Ren; to be recognised as someone different. Much like how my brothers had fought their own battles to be recognised as different from our parents.

That task, however, was a bit difficult to do as blinding strobe lights resembling lightsabers spun around the room, a kaleidoscope of stars bursting in front my eyes, as I rued the fact that I had willingly entered an intergalactic battle. I barely heard the voices around me as looked around for my brothers in desperate need of guidance or at least a reference of appropriate social cues. Like a newly born foal who'd just fallen out of a womb head first, my knees buckled as I stumbled over my heels, then grabbing a barstool for support. I was a baby horse disguised as a red-furred Chewbacca in the control room of an imploding Death Star. Go figure.

"Emily? The bartender asked if you wanted the Sangria or the Mojito," one of the production staff giggled at my side as she was whisked away by the other ladies to the dance floor.

"She'll have a ginger ale," I heard Kaitou's no-nonsense, deep baritone echoing from behind me, cutting through the din of stormtroopers (or what others would refer to as techno beats) in the club, right before I could answer.

"Kai, I can handle it; metabolism from Kuu remember?" I was tempted to roll my eyes, but I knew that Kaitou was simply looking out for me.

"You are handling anything but alcohol tonight, young lady. Metabolism from Kuu also means you'd get drunk faster than the average person. Besides, we must talk about how your classmate tried a bunch of tricks on me on Monday afternoon," Kaitou's eyes narrowed as he looked at the baby-pony-Chewbacca seated on the barstool.

"What, Sakura's a magician?" I chuckled as I received my ginger ale from the bartender, sipping it gratefully.

"Let's just say I don't fancy jailbait. Or perhaps, I'm not as easy as the men she's come across – although, if she is your age, I don't think she should be allowed to come across any men at all."

"Eww. Gross."

"I know right," my eldest brother uncharacteristically made the same disgusted face as the one I had on, and for the first time that night, I burst into genuine peals of laughter. "Maybe I really am gay. Maybe this has turned me gay for good."

"Imagine Megumi Kotone-san kissing another guy. Anger level out of 10?"

"532," Kaitou answered with a frown, "guess I'm straight again, huh."

"Congratulations and celebrations! Let me buy you a drink to toast the confirmation of your sexuality!"

"Etsu, it's an open bar. Also, let either myself or Kichirou know when you're heading home," Kaitou whispered into my ear, wary of anyone who could be listening, yet knowing that the club was noisy enough to provide adequate cover, then pulled away.

"Can do, Tsu-ru-ga-san."

"It's been an honour to work with you Emily, you've got a keen eye for a producer. Somehow, I feel strangely proud of you too."

I grinned cheerily as Tsuruga Kaitou left with a genuine smile on his face, like a suave Jedi who was one with the force, completely knocking all the women off their feet as he barely passed them.

…

It was nearing midnight when I checked my handphone again, knowing it was about time to flag a cab and head home. Though I had originally feared that the night would be a dreadful one, I found myself putting aside my reservations as I got to know the production staff better, and I was grateful for the opportunity. Amidst the laughter of my colleagues, I spotted Sakura with a man who'd been an extra on the cast, and anyone could see the intention in his glassy eyes a mile away. As she sat at the bar and ordered a drink, she turned around to face the man, who put his arms around her; and in a split second, slipped something into her new glass, away from the bartender's gaze.

But not mine.

I said a hasty goodbye and blurted a half-formulated excuse to the production crew, before stalking up to the bar, and yanking Sakura by the arm away from this unscrupulous excuse for a human being. Blood boiled in my veins as he grabbed her free hand, drawling an upset 'babe where are you going', as I simply unleashed Mio v2.0 and nearly stopped myself from tearing a new one through his grimy face. I didn't stop dragging Sakura away till we were both out of the nightclub, with the snake threatening to go timber on the concrete sidewalk.

"Emi-chaaaan," she made three syllables sound like six as she whined, "let go! What's wrong with you! He said he'd show me a good time!"

"I don't like you, but I've been saved from rape once, and now I'm saving your ass. Be grateful," I took a deep breath of the fresh air, glad to be inhaling something much cleaner than second-hand smoke for the first time that evening. "That douche slipped something into your drink just before I came over."

I heard a sudden whimper, and it wasn't coming from me. As I turned to look at Sakura, I realised her eyes had welled up with tears, as her entire svelte frame threatened to falter on the sidewalk. Catching her by the waist as her body swayed, I was thankful she was slightly more than tipsy rather than deadbeat drunk, and could walk by herself to the nearest bench. The moment she sat down, however, she began bawling hysterically. If this had been any other situation, one where I'd seen Sakura cave in high school, I'd have been filled with a sense of triumph. But after I'd seen her act, and pretty darn well to boot, seeing her cry made me pity her instead. Maybe she was just a crying drunk. I sat in silence next to her, passed her a packet of tissues from my clutch, and waited for her earth-shaking weeping to come to a sniffle.

"I just want to be loved," Sakura's voice cracked, "nobody loves me. Father's too busy running his hotel, Mother just wants to use me. NOBODY CARES!"

"Umm," I stammered, not sure how to handle her outburst, "I'm sure that's not true –"

"Nobody cares. They dumped me in Japan when it was convenient. Father used me in this drama when it benefits him. They don't care what I feel. I'm just a tool to them."

I remained silent, not wanting to get cut off mid-sentence with the girl I had already branded as my mortal enemy, the devil spawn of the ultimate boss fight on the final level of every video game combined.

"Emi-chan, you know what?" Sakura began to hiccup, threatening to cry again, "Yuuichi doesn't like me, not even after I offered him fame and money when I found out he wanted to break into the music industry, before he debuted and you went and made him all famous. And Tsuruga-san completely rejected me on Monday. I hate you, I hate that you're able to talk to both of them. I don't even like Tsuruga-san. He's so cold, and stiff, no idea what Mother wanted me to do with him. Maybe she'd just love me more if I did win him over, but who cares, I'm never going to find out."

I stiffened in my seat, watching as information I wasn't sure I was privy to tumbled from her lips.

"I don't know what's going on in your family, but I know you're actually a great actress."

"You think so?" Sakura sniffed.

"Maybe somewhere in there you aren't a terrible person as well," I mumbled, but her hearing was sharp for a crazy teenager who'd downed at least five shots that night.

"Emi-chaaaan, I'm not a terrible person! I don't even bully this stupid girl Etsuko from my high school on purpose, although she gets on my nerves; totally unfair that she's naturally beautiful and blonde and all; it's just my mother seems so interested and curious and why can't she just love me for who I am once in my life! Is that too hard to ask?"

I became a complete statue, wondering what in the world had possessed Sakura to the extent that she was spouting out blatant falsities, as I prayed hard that she wouldn't recognise me under the make-up and the wig. I must have prayed to the right God, as she continued rambling.

"I won't even spread those pictures with you and Kichirou-kun, I know he's just playing around with you like he does with all the other women anyway. You saved me tonight, I'll find some other way to please Mother that doesn't involve you. But…I'm just so sick and tired. All I want is to act! Could you get me another job? You're not a bad producer either. Ask Director Ogata for me, please?"

Stunned into silence, I couldn't comprehend what Sakura had just said. It went from confusing to utterly confounding. What was wrong with this girl and how screwed up was her family? Also, what did she mean she didn't bully me on purpose! She was either a pathetic liar, or a terrific actress. Not actually able to decide between the two possibilities, I answered her on a topic that hopefully wasn't the biggest landmine, and work from there.

"I can see what's available back home, I guess. But aren't there jobs already lined up for you?"

"Father and Mother don't approve of me working, unless it makes them look good. Or in this case, Mother approved because I would know the Tsurugas. I don't understand. Why doesn't she care how I feel at all?"

Her tears fell afresh and I just couldn't comprehend what was going on, only that it was late, she was out of it, and if her word was anything to go by, my brothers and I had nothing to worry about from Sakura any longer. Suddenly, the alcohol seemed to kick in after her second bout of bawling, her energy sapped and her eyelids drooping as I called for a taxi. When it came, I helped her as she stumbled into the cab. As I mentioned the name of the hotel, Sakura suddenly began shaking her head in protest.

"No, the hotel staff can't see me like this. They'll talk. Take me home."

"You have a home in California?" I wasn't sure why I was surprised, she was a rich heiress ala Paris Hilton anyway.

"Yeah, Mom grew up here," She muttered as she passed me her phone, behaving as if a migraine had whacked the living daylights out of her as she somehow managed to totter even as she was seated, sprawled in the backseat, her hand over her face. "Address is saved in the notes. Help me text my Mom. Tell her I'm coming home, don't need the chauffeur."

I gingerly followed Sakura's instructions, and would ponder how her childhood must have been like having something like her chauffeur later, but at that moment there was something more pressing at hand. I couldn't find a number saved under "Mom", "Mother", "Okaasan"; name any iteration of it, it wasn't in her address book. I relayed this information to her, shaking her a bit before she could knock out completely, hoping to get an answer.

"What's her number saved as?"

"Her name."

"Sakura, what's her name?"

"Tina," Sakura breathed, "Mom's name is Tina."

…

A/N: Whaaaat? More curveballs? They get you 10exp more in Pokemon Go, that's what. As Hana Rika mentioned in the reviews, I do miss Yuuichi our Jigglypuff pokemon-loving maniac too, and he'll probably come back soon. Probably. Do review if you've liked the story so far! It makes me happyyyyyy.