Fashion Rules - Prelude

Plot (C) Chronophobe

Notes: I don't own Naruto, blah, blah, blah. (I do own your mom, however.)


The lights were painful. Always so bright and piercing. And not like the pale yellow ones; these were always stark white and so bright you couldn't look without feeling like you were going to go blind.

They'd said I was a natural- that I would get the hang of it. But it seemed I wasn't natural enough- the light was so damned bright and I couldn't focus and the noise was too much- (The music topped with the 'click-click-click' of the cameramen.) The heels hurt and the leather pants were sucking out all my breath and- Bang. I was dead.

As it were, I wasn't dead. (Sure felt like it- falling back six plus feet and landing on solid wood was painful.) The lights were off- or maybe not –and there wasn't any music and no camera men to be heard. Instead I found that I was in someone's bed- no, a couch –no longer in the clothing I'd been modeling, instead in loose pajama-like things. After a while of simply trying to get over the throb that had accumulated, I opened sharp blue eyes to the world; a low groan accompanied it.
"Welcome back, Uzumaki-san." The voice flowed through like oil on water, beautiful and graceful. Whoever owned it was surely a female- right? (I'd later find out that such assumptions were often bad ideas.)

"Nn.. Where am I?" As I sat up, the question quickly answered itself; I was still backstage- though I was in someone's dressing room. (Apparent by the hoards makeup, mirrors and clothing stacked around- all neatly, of course, but stacked nonetheless.) The voice was from a girl- woman? –in the corner who seemed to be mixing herself a drink. She smiled- must be a model, I decided right there. She was much too graceful and skinny not to be. "You're in my dressing room, that's all. You passed out half way down the runway. But it's alright; a lot of people do." She smiled again, (it was something that she seemed to do by nature. It was pretty and calm, like a flower.) and got up to come closer.

"My name is Haku." She said- wait. No. There was something entirely different about this… creature. (S)he was artistic and graceful- catlike in a way –but showed no distinct signs of being either female or male. Even the name was androgynous. There weren't any signs of breasts, but most models didn't have them anyways. I looked the being in front of me over thoroughly- "..Are you a boy or a girl?" Well. So much for being suave. (Maybe that was why people didn't like me..)

"Male." He seemed to brush it off quickly, "Now please, Uzumaki-san, I've got some aspirin for your headache, so sit up and I'll give you some water?" Haku was fragile looking; maybe it was the makeup. (I would later find out his skin was just naturally beautiful; most things about him were. Such was the epitome of beauty.) I nodded slowly and sat all the way up, scooting on my ass to rest against a pale wall. I was soon handed a bottle of water, accompanied by two small white pills.

- - -

Later, I learned that Haku had been modeling since he was fourteen, and had been with this company, (Konoha Modeling Agency) for a while now. His mannerisms were perfect- polite and gentle but alluring and seductive. He was everything a model should be. I was jealous, but not really, because there was no way to harbor negative feelings to this boy; he was always kind and gentle and never wanted to do harm to anything.

If I had known what the boy had been doing prior to my awakening, these thoughts would surly have been different; things weren't as they appeared in the fashion world.

Fashion Rule Number One: It doesn't matter what's on the inside. (Unless you can see it.)


The name of this fic and the inspiration comes from a song called "Fashion Rules" by Chicks on Speed.

So un, yea. Read and Review? .. -sparkles- Also, check out my dA account:

Old-motel-bed