A Note from Vulpi: It starts with an idea.
After writing A Dull Glow, more ideas came to mind on the topic of angsty Rabi-ness. There will undoubtedly be more. I entitle this... The Rose Idol series. Bwah.
And the pillow I'm referring to is the one that Minagawa gave Rabi in one of the anthologies (I'm not sure which — thinking the second one). Just so you know.
Enjoy.
THOSE WITHOUT HEARTS
Part of being an idol means making people happy. It's always easy at first, but as time goes by, things become increasingly more difficult.
Over the years, people pass out of your life. Special people, people you love. And while you continue to go out every night with that faux smile adorning your face, your heart is aching. Night after night, that void isn't filled. And at some point, your heart takes its leave. You are then among those without hearts.
Still, the show must go on, and more nights pass where you have to literally make yourself happy. Can't disappoint those fans, after all. What a way to live, right? And this is what I aspired for all my life. So ironic.
More years pass. That void still isn't filled. You figure you ought to start selling those fake smiles of yours, they're pretty reliable.
But on every one of those nights, there's a certain place where your eyes linger in your room. In the corner sits an old, tattered, badly made pillow in the shape of a die. You have so many other dice related objects that were sent in by fans around your house, anyone else wouldn't see what's so special about that particular one. But you know. You remember.
Every now and then, you'll pick it up and squeeze it. Quite a bit of dust comes out of it, but you don't care. You can still remember the exact day he gave you this. Everything. Everything that happened that day.
Tears are usually shed on these occasions, but no, not this time. No longer. Your heart (or lack thereof) keeps this from happening.
You only feel an overwhelming emptiness, and stash the cushion away again, as you've done so many other times. And someday, you will return to it again, and the process will repeat itself.
Standing up and dusting yourself off, you smile cynically in the mirror, and leave. You have to go feed others' happiness again. Happiness that you don't have to spare.