Ok, so I recently released my Zero's Familiar self-insert story and I thought it was a good premise, whether I come back to it or not is another story. Pun intended. But as I was writing it, I came across a few of those Blood Brandy Vegas challenge stories out there, some good and some bad. I'm not going to say which is which as I'm a picky person and like things a certain way and I know you guys all have your tastes so I will leave that "good" or "bad" labeling to you.

Aside from being made, let's segue on to the idea and where it came from. A while back I was doing some thinking about a manga I read where a dude married an idol secretly and has to keep the whole thing a secret because of the industry. Mainly, that if the fans of this idol discovered she was no longer on the "market" as it were then none of the target audience would come to her shows, she wouldn't get booked, she would then be out of a job; or some of the more fanatical fans might target her newlywed husband to make it so that she's "available" once more. One Google search later revealed the title of this manga to be "Love Lucky", a borderline-H manga (which means it's definitely NSFW but also not porn at the same time). Back in the day, this used to be a well-liked manga by me that I would read off of some pretty shady sites before I started using more legal means to read my Japanese, reverse reading comics.

That being said, I'm beating around the bush. So, where does that self-insert Zero's Familiar story, this "Love Lucky" manga, and that Vegas challenge come into this? Well, I was thinking of using that manga as the base for a self-insert story where a self-imposed character based on me ends of getting married to a Japanese idol on vacation in Vegas and shenanigans ensue. By the way, I love the word "shenanigans". Sounds interesting, right? I hope so.

Title: So... my wife's an idol

Summary: When you get drunk, you make some questionable decisions. I'm not sure if getting married to a Japanese Idol would be considered a mistake or questionable.

Rating: T+ to M – It really depends on how much innuendo and descriptions I put into this. It is supposed to be a more mature RomCom-type fic.

Disclaimer: I only own my copy of MS Word and my laptop. I only own original characters. Any resemblance to the plot of Love Lucky belongs to Katsu Aki. See the foreword for the full disclaimer.

XxXxXxX

"Talking."

Thoughts from first person.

XxXxXxX

Hangovers suck. It's a fact of life for those that drink more than they probably should. The headaches, the dry and patchy throat, regret. These things and more are the results of excessive drinking. As for why I was drinking? Well, that's a whole different story. You see, I'm here in fancy-ass Las Vegas, Nevada on a little vacation. But this wasn't a fun vacation. No, this was a vacation to forget. I should probably do a little backtracking here to really give a fuller picture of why I was here.

You see, originally, I was going to come here with my fiancé of five years to celebrate our wedding. You know, see all the glitz and glamor of a big city. Do a little high rolling. That kind of thing before we went to another place on our honeymoon itinerary. But as one could guess, I was here alone. Well, there's a reason for that. And there's a reason why this is all being told in the past tense. You see, the woman that I thought was the love of my life and my complete other half decided to cheat with my now former best friend. Turns out that they've been fucking behind my back now for almost two years. To say that I felt betrayed would be an understatement. I mean, this was a woman to which I shared all my deepest, darkest secrets and desires to (i.e.: things I wouldn't tell anyone in public). We had agreed to be exclusive with each other years ago and agreed to get married. Of course, I felt betrayed and there was no wonder why. So, I dropped the cheating whore faster than you can say "you cheating whore".

So, why am I in Vegas in particular? I mean, why go to the place that I was going to spend my honeymoon in? The first reason was that the plane tickets were nonrefundable and the hotel that we had planned to stay at wouldn't refund my deposit. So, I took a singular plane trip to Vegas to stay in a fancy hotel all by myself. I spent the entirety of my first day here hitting the Blackjack tables and cleaned house. Ok, I'm overexaggerating a bit. More like I left with fifty times what I started with. You might think that that's a lot, well it sort of is. I started with about a thousand dollars and got fifty thousand. While again, this may seem like a lot, I have a feeling that my ex will try and nickel and dime me for the wedding and all that accommodations that we were supposed to have. And of course, the expenses. But that is something for future me to take care of. Current me is currently hungover and feeling sick.

I slowly crawl my way out of the bed and wobblily walk my way over to the spacious bathroom and barely make it to the toilet to rolf up whatever I had eaten or drank within the last few hours or so. Kids, don't drink excessively or you'll be worshipping the porcelain throne. That's just a little life advice from yours truly. Feeling the last of my dry heaving cease I flush the sick away and look in the mirror. I sort of look like a wreck. Bloodshot eyes, stubble, and just looking overall disheveled in appearance. I could use a hot shower right about now. It was roughly about then did I notice something that I should have the moment I got out of bed, I was naked. And for clarification, I don't mean I was wearing just a t-shirt and boxers or just boxers. Nope, I mean full nude to the point where I could feel the air conditioning in places where that would normally be uncomfortably cold.

While being naked wasn't super uncomfortable especially since this wouldn't have been the first time I slept naked, I was confused as to why. I mean, there's a reason for everything to do. If you're hungry, you eat. If your bladder is about to burst, you take a piss. And so on ad Infinium. I'm not going to go on forever, you can take any result and add a reasoning as to why you did it. Not rocket science. Well, for sure the naked part was the result of something. However, that wasn't jogging any thoughts as to why.

I walked, groggily towards the bed once more. I really needed to sleep off this hangover. A pounding headache? Yeah, sleep is needed. Maybe some aspirin. As I did, there was something on the bed that caught my eye, a shape in the bedding, a lump, if you would. And said lump was breathing. I leaned over to see a woman, but not just any woman. Her skin was a pale tan (kind of an oxymoronic statement), her face a soft heart shape, eyes of the shape of Asiatic descent, a small buttonlike nose, and long black hair. In short, she was cute. And the other thing? She was naked in my bed. It didn't take me long to connect the dots. I was naked, she was naked, I felt exhausted and sore primarily in my groin region, and she looked to have that 'glow' that women apparently get on their wedding day. It was less of an actual glow but an aura of that feeling, but that point aside I narrowed it down. I had slept with this woman.

Ok... this wasn't so bad. I mean, it wasn't the first time that this had happened to me. In fact, it was how I met my ex-fiancé. It was at that moment, I realized that I had a problem. I think I have a problem.

She started to stir signified by sharp intakes of breath. She rolled over and the bedsheet that covered her fell down revealing her naked and fairly large naked breasts. Her eyes fluttered open and immediately locked on me and my naked form standing above the bed. Her eyes trailed down towards my junk and a blush started to color her cheeks and her eyes then quickly jumped to meet mine.

"Good morning," she said in highly accented English, it definitely wasn't her first language. If I was going to make an educated guess, I'd say that she was either from Korea or Japan.

"Morning," I replied back trying to keep my eyes level with hers instead of those tempting globes of flesh. "I, uh, hate to sound like an ass, but what are you doing here?" I ask as carefully as possible. After all, I don't want to sound like a complete asshole this beautiful woman. She seemed to get really embarrassed as she remembered what happened the previous night. A night that was all but a haze for me. She lifted her hand up and showed me the diamond ring on her ring finger. That ring rang a bell. "Hey, that looks familiar..."

She nodded. "You had it on you when we got married by an Elvis impersonator," she replied letting the diamond in the center of the ring catch the light just right.

It was then that it all came back to me. How this beautiful woman and I ended up in the same room and ended up married.

XxXxXxX

The previous night...

I was currently sitting at the blackjack table, a hostess next to me bringing drinks courtesy of the House. It's safe to say that they're annoyed that I'm winning as much money as I currently am. I'm not card counting or using any methods other than the above 18 rule. That being if you get above an 18, you Stay, below that you Hit. More often than not you'll win using that rule. In fact, my last hand won me on a perfect 21. One thing I noticed is that they swapped from the standard two deck decks to three decks. They wanted me to lose. How could I tell? There were three Ace of Spades on the table. I lucked out of that hand and only lost a hundred out of my winnings and noped the fuck out of there before I ended up in the hole.

I approached the bar with my popcorn tub of winnings under my arm. I swayed slightly from side to side slightly and sat down next to a hunched over figure. The barkeep was quick to come over seeing my winnings in an attempt to recoup some of the casino's losses through some top shelf cocktails. And I'm pretty sure that the bartender gets something as a little something-something if they get chips as payment.

"What can I do you for?" he asked with a neutral accent. Either he was really good at masking his or I was too drunk to tell.

"Pint of Guinness for me," I replied. I then put my left hand on the person next to me. "-and one more of whatever my new friend is having." The bartender shrugged and provided me a frosted pint glass of stout and he took a little while longer to provide a classy looking martini to the person next to me. I raised my beer up to the person next to me. "To new friends," I held the bottle out in a toast.

The figure, whom I just noticed was a woman, grabbed the glass with her finely manicured hand and sat up from a heads-down position to tilt her glass towards me and said, "Cheers," in a heavily accented tone that definitely signified that she wasn't from around here nor was English her first language.

I took a sip of my beer and looked her down. She looked to be dressed casually, well, casually as one with high-end threads could be. I mean, this was top of the line stuff. I'm not a fashionista (fashinosto?), but I could read tags even in my inebriated state. "So, what brings you here to Vegas?" I ask. She seemed to mutter under her breath, but obviously, I couldn't understand her. "Pardon?"

"I'm trying to get away," she said sounding exhausted. She laid her head back down on the bar sideways looking at me, or well, at the person that she was speaking to. "You know, just getting away from it all."

"Oh?" I ask with legitimate interest. I mean, she is a beautiful woman and I could use some company, running solo in Vegas was not only lonely but also sort of stupid as opportunists could try and pick me as a target. I'm a utilitarian. "Work?"

"Yes, it is..." she paused searching for the right word, "...very stressful."

"What kind of work?" I pressed.

"I... can't really go into details, but it involves working with people," she hesitated, obviously keeping something secret.

"I agree, people can be stressful," I agree with another drink. After all, my job involves me working with them.

"And then I get brought all the way out here for a PR thing," she went on. She suddenly closed her mouth as she realized she might have said too much.

"Business trip, huh? Well, it could be up north in the middle of winter, but luckily you're in the middle of a desert. A desert oasis called Vegas," I say with prestidigitation.

She looked at me and examined my person. Obviously, she saw my average clothes that you can get from your average Kohl's store. "So, what brings you here?" she asked me.

I sort of stared off behind her for a moment thinking that someone would appear. "I'm on vacation," I reply, not entirely telling the truth up front, but it also wasn't a lie. Part of her could tell since she gave me a look as such. "Fine," I sighed, "I'm here because my bitch of an ex-fiancé was cheating on me and I decided to blow off some steam."

"The love of your life betrayed you?" she asked, the tone she used hinted at compassion towards me.

I took another sip of my beer. "Yep. Ungrateful whore cheated on me with my now former best friend. Turns out they were old fuck buddies when they were back in college. Apparently, all our years together meant nothing to her." I took another drink.

"She sounds like a horrible person."

"Hear, hear," I agreed. I then looked at her, "So, what's your name?"

She shifted slightly as if she was uncomfortable. But before I could tell her that it was alright and that she didn't have to tell me her name, she said, "Rise." However, it was definitely said 'Ree•sé'.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Rise. I'm Phil."

"Nice to meet you too," she said with sincerity.

"So, what are you doing after this?" I ask.

From there the night was a blur. However, there were a few 'scenes' that stood out to me. There were several bars and clubs, Elvis, and of course me engaging in the carnal, horizontal mambo with a cute Japanese woman whose name happens to be Rise.

XxXxXxX

Present day...

It hit me then like a ton of bricks. I had met Rise in a hotel bar, we went out drinking to the point of memory impairment, gotten married at an Elvis impersonator church (a stereotypical staple of Vegas), and then proceeded to consummate said marriage. I immediately covered myself up and started to stammer and stutter, "Listen, I didn't mean to get you involved like this."

She seemed embarrassed and slightly offended. She didn't cover herself up, in fact, she sat up in the bed allowing her naked flesh to be seen by me. "So, you don't like my body?" she asked.

"No! I mean, you're very beautiful and any man worthy of you would be lucky enough to be graced by your presence alone."

"So, what are you saying?"

I had to take a deep breath and gather my thoughts. "What I mean is that I wish I didn't marry you in such a... unceremonious manner. Not only that, but I know nothing about you other than your name and that you're very beautiful."

"Well, let's rectify that," she said chipperly. She leaped out of bed and, while nude and with little shame aimed my way, struck a pose that I had seen several Japanese singers do before. What were they called again? "I'm Rise Yoshida. I'm 25 years old and I'm on vacation from a finished tour as a Japanese Idol. Nice to meet you!"

Oh yeah, Idols! Wait... Idol? The kind of music celebrity that couldn't date or almost go out in public as themselves lest crazy fans go after them and their loved ones? Dear Lord, what I have I gotten myself into. On the bright side though, she was cute.

XxXxXxX

And there we go, another pilot done. Now, what am I going to do about this one? If you remember back in that intro, I mentioned that this was heavily inspired by Love Lucky, a manga where a very similar thing happens. Except in that one, it's an arranged marriage not a drunken stint in Vegas. And that's not a spoiler as that happens in the first few chapters of Volume 1. What I want to explore in this story, should it continue, is my self-insert's ability to cope with a wife with a demanding job with hundreds of thousands of adoring fans that would like nothing better than to beat his face in and take his wife for his own. He'll have to deal with a producer that wants to see his Rise happy but at the same time doesn't like her choice that she made. And there's so much more than I can explore with this using the previously mentioned manga as a source of inspiration as I'm unaware of the idol lifestyle in their private life (although Idolm aster and Love Live might be good sources as well for those details).

But as for this story idea, let me know what you think about it in the normal places.

As for those that keep telling me to update stories I haven't worked on in months, please see Rule #8 in the Foreword, thank you.

See you all next time in whatever I do next!