* Chiru *
I sighed and sat down in front of the meal my mother had cooked, my plate already adorned with a balanced serving of the various dishes she'd made. I studied the food unhungrily, and when I looked back up, my mother was staring at me with a worried expression.
"Chiru, dear, is something bothering you?" She asked, the tone of her voice a little too sweet; a little too careful.
"Iie. I'm fine. Just... a little nervous."
My mom continued to look at me, still concerned. It was odd, me being nervous or having the least bit of stage fright. I was a pop idol. I'd sung in front of gigantic crowds hundreds of times before. It was different, that night, though. I was playing a concert in front of the people I'd be living with for the next year or so.
"Chiru... honey... are you sure you're alright?"
I nodded and eagerly picked up my fork. "Mm. This looks delicious! I'm so hungry!" I cried enthusiastically and plunged into my plate of food. My mother relaxed. That was the real me. Or it had been.
As I mentioned, I was an idol. Everyone in Tokyo loved my music, and I usually enjoyed performing and meeting all of my fans. I'd been growing increasingly lonely, though. My friends had all abandoned me or last contact somewhere along the way and my boyfriend recently decided our relationship wasn't worth pursuing anymore. Here's betting he'd met some cheerleader who shared a mutual interest.
My mother had me going to a psychiatrist, and I hated it. She thought I needed the help, and looking back, it probably wasn't a bad idea. I still wasn't thrilled about the set up, and refused to do a whole lot of talking.
My final concert was taking place that night. That's why I'd been so nervous. I was settling down near Tokyo and taking a while off of touring to attend medical school. Both my mom and my agent agreed that it was a brilliant idea to take a vacation. I didn't think it was a good idea. I would be going to school with some of my biggest fans. Tokyo, a big city, was hardly my first choice in homes.
"Chiru! Chiru!" I could hear the crowd scream my name in one organized cheer, as if one monstrous voice rising up from the masses. Why? I don't know. Personally, I thought my music and my singing was terrible. At the best, mediocre; nothing too special and certainly nothing to get excited about. The crowd just kept on cheering.
The intro to my number one song, "Moonlight Romancer," began to play. I took a deep breath, and on my cue began singing. I was lowered onto the stage by a silver crescent moon. It was Gin's idea, and everyone had loved it. Everyone but me. I had argued and fought against it, but what could I do? Majority rules.
I sang the lyrics to the song I'd sung a million times before. They had become mechanical to me, my performances. Same songs, same dance steps, same band. But it was different that night. It was my last concert for the next couple years.
The words to the song were empty to me. At one time, they'd been full of meaning. They spoke of the legend of Princess Serenity of the moon and Prince Endymion falling in love. My father had told me the story of how their love brought to end the war between the moon and the earth. I used to love that story. I used to love my father, too.
As I sang on, a few tears escaped my eyes. Nobody seemed to notice. They were all entranced by my singing; my music was consuming them. Maybe to some other girls my lyrics still had meaning. But not me. Not anymore. I just couldn't believe in faerie tales and happily ever after.
I was on my knees in front of the crowd, belting out the tunes as if they were nothing. On the outside, I was eternally cheerful, happy go lucky Chiru-chan. Inside I was crumbling, falling apart. Inside, I was dying
Finally, my last song came to a close. "Thank you everybody, you've been great!" I cried out over the wild cheering and the flowers being thrown at me. I caught a bouquet and bowed gracefully, grinning in mock happiness as I pranced off the stage, blowing kisses along the way. God, it sickens me how artificial I can be at times.
I sighed and sat down in front of the meal my mother had cooked, my plate already adorned with a balanced serving of the various dishes she'd made. I studied the food unhungrily, and when I looked back up, my mother was staring at me with a worried expression.
"Chiru, dear, is something bothering you?" She asked, the tone of her voice a little too sweet; a little too careful.
"Iie. I'm fine. Just... a little nervous."
My mom continued to look at me, still concerned. It was odd, me being nervous or having the least bit of stage fright. I was a pop idol. I'd sung in front of gigantic crowds hundreds of times before. It was different, that night, though. I was playing a concert in front of the people I'd be living with for the next year or so.
"Chiru... honey... are you sure you're alright?"
I nodded and eagerly picked up my fork. "Mm. This looks delicious! I'm so hungry!" I cried enthusiastically and plunged into my plate of food. My mother relaxed. That was the real me. Or it had been.
As I mentioned, I was an idol. Everyone in Tokyo loved my music, and I usually enjoyed performing and meeting all of my fans. I'd been growing increasingly lonely, though. My friends had all abandoned me or last contact somewhere along the way and my boyfriend recently decided our relationship wasn't worth pursuing anymore. Here's betting he'd met some cheerleader who shared a mutual interest.
My mother had me going to a psychiatrist, and I hated it. She thought I needed the help, and looking back, it probably wasn't a bad idea. I still wasn't thrilled about the set up, and refused to do a whole lot of talking.
My final concert was taking place that night. That's why I'd been so nervous. I was settling down near Tokyo and taking a while off of touring to attend medical school. Both my mom and my agent agreed that it was a brilliant idea to take a vacation. I didn't think it was a good idea. I would be going to school with some of my biggest fans. Tokyo, a big city, was hardly my first choice in homes.
"Chiru! Chiru!" I could hear the crowd scream my name in one organized cheer, as if one monstrous voice rising up from the masses. Why? I don't know. Personally, I thought my music and my singing was terrible. At the best, mediocre; nothing too special and certainly nothing to get excited about. The crowd just kept on cheering.
The intro to my number one song, "Moonlight Romancer," began to play. I took a deep breath, and on my cue began singing. I was lowered onto the stage by a silver crescent moon. It was Gin's idea, and everyone had loved it. Everyone but me. I had argued and fought against it, but what could I do? Majority rules.
I sang the lyrics to the song I'd sung a million times before. They had become mechanical to me, my performances. Same songs, same dance steps, same band. But it was different that night. It was my last concert for the next couple years.
The words to the song were empty to me. At one time, they'd been full of meaning. They spoke of the legend of Princess Serenity of the moon and Prince Endymion falling in love. My father had told me the story of how their love brought to end the war between the moon and the earth. I used to love that story. I used to love my father, too.
As I sang on, a few tears escaped my eyes. Nobody seemed to notice. They were all entranced by my singing; my music was consuming them. Maybe to some other girls my lyrics still had meaning. But not me. Not anymore. I just couldn't believe in faerie tales and happily ever after.
I was on my knees in front of the crowd, belting out the tunes as if they were nothing. On the outside, I was eternally cheerful, happy go lucky Chiru-chan. Inside I was crumbling, falling apart. Inside, I was dying
Finally, my last song came to a close. "Thank you everybody, you've been great!" I cried out over the wild cheering and the flowers being thrown at me. I caught a bouquet and bowed gracefully, grinning in mock happiness as I pranced off the stage, blowing kisses along the way. God, it sickens me how artificial I can be at times.