Chapter 9 - Photo Party

As soon as Yamato and Kakashi were out of the room, it wasn't long before many of us were on our way back to the elevators to get back to our respective rooms. We had just survived the largest elimination this competition has ever seen, but we were not off the hook just yet.

Usually, I'm more laid back when it comes to parties, but not this time around. Not when my spot in the competition hangs in the balance.

"Izuka, should I keep my hair up in buns, or should I let it loose?"

I look up from the bathroom mirror to see TenTen enter with bobby pins in one hand and a brush in the other. Her dark brown hair fell a little past her bare shoulders, her face frantic as she looked from one hand to the other.

"If you want my honest opinion, I'd say stick with the buns," I say as I dab some more lipstick on my bottom lip. "You look a little too normal when you have your hair out like you do now. The hair buns make you more unique. . . You are the only one that has worn the style consistently up to this point."

"Really?" she asks, joining me by the mirror. "Do I really look so normal when I have my hair down?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

Before she could even voice a reply, in comes Temari, already dressed to impress as she held what looked like my silver cuff bracelet in her hands. "Izuka, can I borrow your bracelet for the party? It matches my outfit perfectly!"

And then her eyes landed on TenTen. "What up Plain Jane!?"

"That's it! Buns it is!" the brunette declares, moving to take my spot in front of the mirror. "Is Hinata done yet?"

"She's waiting on the couch for the rest of us," she answers, now turning her gaze back on me, holding my bracelet close to her face. "So, can I borrow it or not?"

"Yeah sure; just don't lose it okay? I want it back once the party's over," I concede as I put my lipstick back in the makeup bag. "Um, how many photographers do you think will even be at the party anyway?"

"More than I could possibly count I guess," mumbles TenTen, completing her right bun before moving to the left. "The party will be swarming with cameras, and we won't know who's who, so there's no point in trying to single them out and only be at our best once their cameras are on us . . ."

"Cynical, yet true," mumbles Temari, sounding reluctant to agree with her. "It's a nerve wracking scenario regardless, but as long as we do well, we should be okay . . . Hell, if we do end up not making it, we might as well make sure that our photos are so good that even though we got eliminated, they end up regretting their decision later on!"

"I think I can get behind that idea," TenTen exclaims, liking the idea. "But still, who knows what kind of images will be caught on film today. You may think that you've done well, and next thing you know, the judges are criticizing a photo of you sneezing into your margarita."

"I highly doubt they'll look at the most unflattering photos right off the bat," I say, hoping my words will settle her nerves a bit. "Don't they usually judge the best photo in the bunch anyway?"

"Yeah, they do," she concedes, letting out a deep breath. "Maybe I'm worrying myself for nothing."

"You are, and you should stop it. You'll give yourself stress lines if you're not too careful," comes Temari's part helpful, part slightly harsh response. "So, are you two ready to go or not? We won't earn our places in the next round if we stay in here all day!"

"I'm all set," I say as TenTen finishes up with her hair. "TenTen, you good?"

"I'm good!" she says, now looking more determined than ever before. "Let's get Hinata and go show our stuff ladies!"

We exit the bathroom one at a time, finding Hinata now waiting for us by the front door with an expectant look on her face. We all ended up going with party looks that showcased our legs, but while Temari and Hinata went with mini-dresses in shades of plum and lavender, respectively, TenTen went with a short, sleeveless blue romper while I decided to go with a chic shirt, shorts, and jacket combo in shades of black and purple.

"Does everyone have what they need? Speak now or forever hold your piece!" Temari practically orders as she eyes all three of us, daring us to say anything back.

None of us bother to rise to her bait. "Alright, according to my watch, the party started just a few minutes ago, so we're in fashionably late territory . . . Okay, let's do this!"

Two minutes was all we needed to get to the elevators; a large group of our fellow female competition already waiting at the doors for the next ride up, all dressed to impress for the soiree upstairs.

We couldn't get on the first available ride, or the second, so the four of us ended up on the third ride up, along with Sakura - the one who's sensitive about her naturally pink hair - and Ino, the resident flirt, and judging how they were actively ignoring each other, the tension between the two was still as strong as ever. Once the elevator stopped at our desired floor, the two ended up walking out at the same time, almost bum rushing each other in the process as they stomped down the hallway, turned the corner, and disappeared from view.

"That was the most tension filled elevator ride I've ever been on," TenTen almost cries out, breaking the silence that had entrapped us since we first got on the elevator. "Sakura and Ino really don't like each other, huh?"

"I must say, there is no love lost between those two," says Hinata, shaking her head. "And they've only known each other for a couple of days."

"Trust me, those two are going to argue before the day is over. I'm willing to bet $50 on it," Temari adds, taking the lead. "Now come on! I can hear the music from here!"

We followed her down the hallway and around the corner to see that the hall end at an open doorway that led to the hotel roof, which was already bustling with partiers, patrons, and probably the most important of the p's, the photographers; all of them mingling with our competition as they enjoy the drinks and ambiance provided by the hotel and its workers.

"This party is rocking already. . ." I say, slightly awed by the entire thing. "It started like, what, twenty minutes ago?"

"It certainly looks fun out here, and I would certainly love to enjoy it with the rest of you guys, but I think it's best if we separate for now . . . I'll see you all later!" TenTen cries out as she walks into the throng of bodies, leaving us in her dust.

"Aw, I feel so ditched!" Temari says, sarcasm lacing her tone. "But I got to admit. TenTen does have the right idea. We should split up, at least for now. Besides, this is an individual competition. Only one can win this entire thing in the end, and we can cover more ground separately than if we did it as a group."

"Way to stay focused on the actual issue at hand Temari . . ." I couldn't help but say as she started walking away from us.

"What can I say? It's nice, making friends in this competition and all, but I still got my eyes on the prize."

And with that, Temari walked into the party and disappeared from view, making our group of three go down to a duo.

"Hmm, she does have a point . . . I don't know about you Hinata, but I think I'm going to try my luck at the juice bar first," I say, pointing to the long glass table off to our right. "I know we need to be at our best right now, but I could certainly use a drink."

"I hope you don't mind, but I'm tagging along . . . To be honest with you Izuka, I'm not really used to big parties like this."

"You and me both," I say with a shrug. "But I try not to show my discomfort with them though. . . I don't think the judges would appreciate looking at photos of uncomfortable looking models. Wouldn't you agree?"

"You make a good point," she says as we reach the bar. "So, how do you think this is supposed to work? Do we actively look for the photographers, or do they come to us?"

"Well . . ." I say, just as we hear the clicks of cameras from somewhere on our left. Turning our heads, two photographers were actively taking our shots. We were taken off guard by the first few clicks, but we managed to pose for the next few, getting a hearty thanks from one of the men before they went off to find their next target.

"You know what? Hinata, I think we'll be just fine if we just remain natural and stay calm in front of the camera lens," I advise. "As long as we're not stiff or looking forced, we should be good."

"I think I can abide by that," she concedes as I hand her one of the drink menus. "Still, it's going to be hard to remain natural when a camera suddenly pops into your face to snap a photo."

"Well, true!" I concede as one of the bartenders come over. "But hey! We can at least try. You know what they say: fake it till you make it. . . Now then, let's see what's on these menus."

After placing our orders, we walk away with a strawberry banana smoothie for Hinata and a tropical passionfruit cocktail for me, ready to explore the rest of the party. It wasn't long before we spotted TenTen, this time at one of the roof's corners talking with Neji and the boy with the bowl cut that walked with Sakura during the runway challenge. A blonde photographer was busy taking their photos, her light blonde hair poking out from under the oversized beanie she wore.

Though she looked quite unassuming from where I was standing, there was something about her that looked familiar to me. I just couldn't put my finger on it.

"Uh oh, I see trouble."

Hinata is pointing toward the entrance when I turn my head, where three girls were having quite the spat. Judging from how loud they were increasingly getting, it was something serious. "Damn, they are really going at it over there! What are they even arguing about!?"

"Bad attitudes pretty much. . ." comes Temari's response as she walks up with a pale drink in hand. "A party isn't a party unless a couple of arguments happen, am I right?"

"Well, an argument does make the party a little livelier. . ." I say as we watch continue their verbal spar. "So, how did things come to, well, that?"

"You see, the black-haired girl with the terrible bleached bangs has been talking smack about people ever since she got here. The two girls arguing with her have been a couple of her most frequent targets, so they decided to confront her about it."

"Confront her? And they chose here out of all places to do so?" I ask, gesturing all around us.

"I guess they figured they could resolve things with a simple conversation," Temari suggested, not looking the least bit convinced. "They thought wrong."

"Or it started off like they were hoping for, but it fell off the rails soon afterward . . . They look like they're about to trade blows!" says Hinata, just as the girl with the bangs slapped one of her confronters in the face, knocking her glasses right into the nearby pool. "Never mind . . ."

"At least the security here is on point!" Temari adds as two burly security guards appear out of nowhere, grabbing Bleached Bangs by the arms before dragging her away, kicking and screaming. "She's so outta here."

"No kidding," I say as I sip my drink. The competition has plenty of rules that its contestants must abide by, and one of its most important ones was that no contestant is allowed to physically harm another. By slapping the girl with glasses, Bleached Bangs just sealed her own elimination. "She'll be out before nightfall."

"Ah, we've finally found you!"

Recognizing my brother's voice, it wasn't long before we spotted him in the crowd. For once, orange was not the dominant color in his outfit. In fact, the only thing on him that was even remotely orange was the drink he held in his hand. He was dressed in a blue button down, jeans, and dress shoes, looking quite dashing, much to Hinata's apparent appreciation.

Gaara was with him as well, but he was wearing his leather jacket with a matching tight black button-down shirt underneath, black jeans with a metal chain, and his boots. Unlike my brother, he was empty handed.

"We heard a commotion was happening over here and we wanted to investigate," Naruto was quick, his eyes going straight for the pool, watching as the girl that got slapped reached into the water to retrieve her glasses. "Uh, how did that girl's glasses end up in the pool?"

"They got smacked off her face by one of the other competitors, a girl with bleached bangs," I say as the girl finally retrieved her lenses. "You just missed the security guards drag the other girl out just now."

"Well that was stupid on her part," Gaara grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fighting's prohibited. Hell, you're guaranteed elimination if they find out you threw the first punch."

"Hopefully she learns a lesson from all this, but yeah, she is out of here," Hinata quietly adds before taking a sip of her drink. "So, have you two been photographed yet?"

"I think everyone has been photographed once or twice by now," says Naruto as he looks around the crowd. "However, some are photographed more than others."

"The photographers are playing favorites!?" Temari asks, her face going from incredulous to irritated in an instant. ". . . Well that's not fair."

"The paparazzi usually aren't the fairest bunch when it comes to their photographs though . . . Anyway, a large group of them are taking photos over at the far-right corner of the party," my brother adds, pointing to said direction. "If you want some more photos taken of you, you can go over there."

"I'm gone!" And Temari leaves, without a hint of a goodbye. Hinata decides to follow her, and Naruto goes after her, leaving Gaara and I to ourselves.

"I feel ditched. Do you feel ditched?"

"You're not the only one Gaara. . ." I concede as I finish the last of my drink. "So, should we go after them?"

"I don't think so . . . That corner's getting a little too crowded anyway," he says as he looks in the other direction. "I think I'm just going to wait until the crowd thins a little. Maybe take in the view a bit . . . Care to join me?"

We should be focusing more on getting what we need done in order to secure our place in this competition, but the idea of joining a handsome, redheaded man with insomnia as bad as mine to enjoy the sight of the city skyline was too good to ignore.

With a nod of my head, I follow him to a less crowded area of the roof, quickly setting my empty glass on a passing server's tray as we moved. We eventually find an empty stretch of railing that was a little further away from the rest of the partygoers, not too far that anyone would miss us, but not too close that the noise would be completely drowning our ears with sound.

It was a quaint little spot that suited us perfectly.

"So, how many people do you think will make it into the main round?" I decide to ask, choosing to go with the first thing that came into my head rather than something a little more thought out.

"I have no idea. The number tends to change every year." answers the redhead, his husky voice sending a sudden chill right down my spine.

. . . Damn, with that voice, he could convince me of anything anytime and I would thank him without a complaint. "There's 50 of us left. Well, 49 now, thanks to what happened earlier . . . The final number is only known by the judges alone. They hold our fate in their hands after all."

"I guess you're right. . . You know, it's not very fun," I mumble, looking down at the street below. "The idea of your fate being in the hands of a few people, not knowing whether you're in or out. . . The unknown can be a scary thing."

"It's never fun putting your fate into someone else's hands, but my father has always said that if you put your trust in the professionals and their expertise, things should work out in the end."

"I can see how your father would say that," I admit, looking up into the sky as I feel Gaara's jade eyes on me. "Your father is a politician, a mayor in fact . . . He has to put his trust in the expertise of his advisors and staff, especially in those who have expertise in areas that your dad is not so fluent in, right?"

"Hmm, you definitely have me there," he slowly admits. "My father was the city treasurer before he ran for mayor. He has a mind for the economy, particularly with metals like gold and silver."

"But let me guess: your dad's knowledge for public policy and societal issues are not as adequate?" I couldn't help but ask, a small smirk creeping on my face.

"Exactly! The economy has always been my father's thing. . . He's been raised with it, pretty much."

"Raised with it?" I ask, an idea now dawning on me. "You're wealthy, aren't you?"

"Think old nobility, like the Uchihas. Our lineage just isn't as long as theirs," Gaara adds, taking a deep breath. "Of course, coming from an affluent background means you don't face the struggles that most tend to face. However, my dad grew up with friends that did face those kinds of struggles, and in his own way, he wanted to help them out."

"So, he studied economics so that he could figure out ways to help others on a financial level?" I guess.

"That would be correct . . . My dad figured that if he was going to help out and give back to the community, he should do it in the way he knew best, and that was through economics and finance, and he's definitely been successful on that front," says the redhead, his face looking slightly impressed. "Fukuoka has one of the best economies in the country, and it's all because of him and his ideas, but when he decided to run for mayor, he knew he couldn't do it alone."

"Hmm, I bet it wasn't all fun and games having such a big politician as a father growing up, huh?"

"Not really. My siblings and I have all had our problems with our father, me especially, but we've managed," he concedes. "Sorry, I'm not being sudden and boring by talking about my family's background, am I?"

"It's okay. I don't mind," I say as I spot a photographer taking our photo about ten feet away from us. "Besides, I consider us even now."

"Even!?"

"You were the one that figured out that my parents are deceased, remember?"

"Oh yeah, I guess so," Gaara mumbles, his eyes widening slightly as we started to walk back toward the crowd. "I guess we really are even then."

"C'mon," I say, daring to be a little bold as I wrapped my arms around one of his own. Judging by how flushed his cheeks got due to our close proximity, he hadn't expected the move on my part.

A part of me was wondering if I was intruding on his personal space, but considering he hadn't pushed me off yet, I'd consider this a win. "We still have a challenge to get through, remember?"

"That we do . . ." he trails off, looking down at my smirking face. "Are you going to hold on to me like this for the rest of the party?"

"I promise I'll let you go as soon as the next camera is on us."

Keeping to my word, we separate as soon as a camera guy decides to make us his next subject. We ended up spending the rest of the party getting as many photos taken as we can, from group shots to individual pictures. We probably had our photos taken at least once by most of the photographers that attended the soiree, somehow balancing that with interacting with some of the other party guests.

When the party's invitees included a who's who of prominent names in the fashion industry, how could we not?

When it was finally over, we were all called to gather by the pool by one of the staff members as everyone else left the roof. When we were all were finally gathered around the southern end, out comes Yamato and Kakashi, both looking pleased as they came to a stop a few feet away from us.

"Well hello there models!" Calls Yamato, greeting us with a smile on his chiseled face. "I hope you all had fun this afternoon. You had the opportunity to mingle with some members of Japan's fashion society while also having your photos taken by photographers left and right. As you all know, those photos, along with your overall performances over the course of these past few days, will determine who moves on to the main round and who will go home."

"You have done all that you could, but now, you guys must wait and contemplate," Kakashi advises us as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Once Yamato and I leave you here, we will meet with Tsunade, and trust me. The three of us will be debating long and hard on who we will be taking into the finals this year."

"You will not know the results until tomorrow night, when you all meet back here right by this pool at 8 PM sharp. Tsunade will meet you then, and then you'll know your fate," Yamato adds as he starts backing away. "For now, it's time to say goodbye, and for some of you, this'll be the last farewell you'll get from us."

"Goodbye for now. Let's hope the odds are in your favor."

We all had stayed silent as the two men gave us their whole spiel about the final decision making, and it remained that way as they left us in our collective silence. The tension was definitely in the air, with no one daring to speak as we all digested the information we were given.

Eventually, we all began to thaw out, with people whispering amongst themselves as they began to leave.

"One more day . . ." I whisper, shaking my head. "One more day to wait to see whether we're in or out."

"They really know how to prolong the agony, don't they?" I hear Temari ask, suddenly appearing right next to me. "But I guess that's show business for ya! They absolutely live for the tension and drama."

"Too bad not all of us are suited for the waiting game," my brother says, looking mildly put out. "I really want to know, just so I could be done with it and not have to worry about it anymore! Is that too much to ask?!"

"Well, you're not the only one. I want to know sooner rather than later too, but we all know that's not how it goes here. We just have to wait and see," TenTen advises as she starts walking away. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to go start packing my things, because tomorrow, we're going to find out who's going to the top model house, and who's going home, and I want to be prepared."

"Is anyone really prepared though?" I couldn't help but mumble to myself as I look up at the darkening sky, not ready for what the future may bring.

A/N: Leave a comment if you like!