—Small World—

Luka hunched her shoulders as she stole out of the luxury car her manager insisted she take to and from practice. She hadn't put her face on yet because they wouldn't be filming rehearsal, but that didn't mean she felt any less conspicuous while accompanied by her production team. Everything was a process when they became involved—an all day affair that had her running around like a headless chicken. That being said, today's schedule was jam-packed and her temples were already throbbing though noon hadn't rolled around yet.

Get in, get out. Luka wasn't a huge fan of the choreography for her new video, but then it wasn't really for her was it? According to trends, this was the style that appealed to the bulk of her audience. She did a little skip-hop, counting the steps in her head. The routine overall was simple and she had learned it quite quickly, so one take was all she would need. Hopefully that meant today would be an early day.

Luka was so focused on her destination that she quite literally ran into another person and apologized profusely as she moved to help the other party to their feet.

"Fancy seeing you here," Miku chuckled, accepting the proffered hand. She didn't release it after she had been on her feet and Luka was immediately made uncomfortable by her own lack of discomfort. Miku had proven to be the touchy feely type and apparently that was okay. "Are you busy?"

Almost always. But she didn't say that. Instead, she asked, "Did you need something?"

"Care to meet up for lunch later?"

She could actually see the production team stragglers filing into a building a block over. It would only be a matter of time before they noticed she was missing.

"Uh, sure." She couldn't say no—not to Miku.

Miku grinned and pulled a mobile phone out of her bag. It wasn't the latest model by a long shot and when she handed it to Luka, the popstar could only stare blankly.

"Your number," Miku prompted. When she continued to hesitate, the green-haired woman asked, "Is that okay?"

"Uh, yeah." It really wasn't, but she began entering her phone number anyway. Before typing the 9th digit her finger hovered, twitching between the six and the seven.

(Has anyone seen Luka?) a voice asked in her ear, raised to be heard above the familiar din of production.

She quickly typed in a six and mumbled an apology before hustling off. Miku had caught her off-guard with her request-that was how she rationalized the pounding of her heart beneath her breast. Had she really just given out her personal number? She should know by now how dangerous that could prove to be; especially if Miku was to discover her identity.

Luka was entering the dance studio when the phone in her pocket buzzed. She glanced about surreptitiously before checking it:

(Catch you later, lovely!)

Ba-bump.

Even as she berated herself inwardly, Luka glanced down at the text again and couldn't help but smile.

(K. Cya.)

Inside, her backup dancers were already in their places. They were only half dressed in silk white yukata over which they'd later don a crimson kimono with an elaborate floral pattern. The base of Luka's was black, though the neon design on the sleeves and along the slit that revealed a flash of skin with each step was the same.

She kicked off her sneakers and changed into the wooden tabi the other girls were wearing then took her place at the centre of their huddle.

...

"Luka!" The choreographer groaned and shook her head. "You had this routine down to a T, honey. What happened?"

The misstep had been a direct result of hearing her phone chime in her bag hanging across the room and she smiled sheepishly as she apologized. It wouldn't happen again-it shouldn't have happened in the first place. Because Miku shouldn't have her cell phone number and Luka shouldn't have been so excited to hear from her.

"Once more from the top, people."

They took a short break after rehearsal. While the backup dancers changed into their outfits Luka ducked into the room set aside as her personal changing room. She checked her phone, a thrill of excitement going through her.

(Meet at Sapporo's at noon? It's a nice little cafe on the strip.)

The clock read 11:16am. They'd have to fly through the recording session for her to be there on time. (I may be a little late..)

(I'll be waiting :D )

"Melody! Over here!"

This was one of those places Luka had passed a dozen times but never really gone into. Apparently it was the opposite story for Miku because the waitress who was chatting her up seemed to know her well enough. It was a little irritating to watch the way the blonde fawned over Miku, but Luka stowed that spike of irritation away for later examination.

The moment Luka approached the table, the green-haired woman leaped to her feet and went around to pull her chair out for her.

"You don't have to," she protested, despite the way the gesture made her stomach flip flop.

"Nonsense."

"I'm not being charged for this, am I?" It was a joke, of course. This wasn't the first time they'd run into each other outside of the brothel and it felt almost natural to spend time together. Like friends.

"I'm off the clock, but I'm sure you can find a way to compensate me for my time." Miku winked and Luka's face heated. She'd been doing that more of late—flirting—and it wasn't entirely unreciprocated.

Luka raised her menu, but she found herself glancing over the top of it at Miku. Blue eyes shone as the green-haired woman rattled off the dishes she'd tried and liked. Her lips were something Luka admired more frequently and with greater attention; they looked soft. Kissable.

"Is there something on my face?"

Whoops. "I was just thinking I wanted the noodles."

"You have to try their bubble tea. It's fantastic."

"Mhm..." Had Miku's cheeks always been so attractively flushed? She really wasn't the makeup type-she certainly didn't need it.

"And the sashimi is caught fresh daily. You can really taste the difference."

When Miku's tongue flicked out to wet her lips, Luka felt incredibly guilty for the excited stirrings that incited beneath her breast. "Mm..."

"I hope you're hungry because they give you a pretty big portion."

"Mhm."

"Are you listening to me?"

"Uh..."

"That's a no." Miku chuckled. "What's on your mind, lovely?"

There it was again—that pet name. It was a very recent development, but Luka wasn't sure how she felt about it yet. Miku reached out and rested a hand over hers, and she frowned down at the appendage. She pushed all sorts of boundaries with every passing day.

"It's nothing."

"You can talk to me about anything, you know."

Could she really?

Miku's gaze slid past Luka and, suddenly, she paled considerably.

"Is everything okay?"

"I need you to trust me."

"What?"

"Just trust me."

"O-okay..."

Miku was a whirlwind of activity; she rose, grabbing Luka's hand, and the cafe blurred around them as she took off running. Despite her longer legs, the pink-haired girl had trouble keeping up with the other woman's pace.

'What the hell is going on?'

They rounded a corner, narrowly avoiding crashing into an elderly couple, and she vaguely heard the tall man grumble about "young love these days." Luka let herself be led through a blur of streets until her lungs screamed for air. Miku slowed to a stop the moment Luka stumbled, stepping out of the street and under the awning of a storefront.

Luka leaned gingerly against the wooden railing, panting. "What the hell was that? Why are we running?"

"I'm sorry." Miku barely got it out around her laboured breathing. "I saw someone I knew—an artist—and he had his camera and I knew he recognized you and I didn't want him to snap a photograph and—"

"What are you talking about?" Even as she asked, her stomach sunk.

The look in blue eyes and the way the woman reached out gently, cautiously, sent off red flags. "Luka..."

'How did she—?' Something clattered across the floor, upended in her haste to place distance between them.

She knew. She had known this whole time who Luka really was. This was the part where she tried to extract some sort of hush money or forced her compliance by threatening to ruin her reputation.

Luka tried to turn and flee. The grip that caught her wrist was firm, but not rough. "Would you please listen?"

"..."

The hug she found herself on the receiving end of was far from unpleasant despite the circumstances. "I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you, but I didn't want you to think..."

"Think what?" Damn the way her voice shook, the dwindling rush of adrenaline leaving her feeling weak.

"That that's all I saw you as." A hand cupped her cheek, guiding her gaze to meet Miku's. "You're so much more than that, Luka. From the moment we met, I knew you were someone special."

"..."

"And I'd like to think we've become friends," Miku forged on. "Perhaps... even closer than that...?"

Suddenly, Luka was aware of just how close they were.

Miku's lips kept moving, presumably to release a stream of nonsensical blather born from nervousness, but Luka scarcely heard her. She watched the way full lips moved and the one thing she could take away from the exchange was the burning desire to find out if they were just as soft as they looked. She had a new appreciation for the way they curved at the corners just before parting to allow Miku's voice to be heard even as she wondered how her tone and pitch would change in the aftermath. She had a new appreciation for the delicate hands that gestured expansively even as she wondered if they would roam her front or entwine long fingers in her hair.

She wanted to kiss Miku. Badly.

Luka wasn't sure who leaned forward first, but their lips met once, twice, three times... And then Luka lost count. By the time Miku gave her enough space to allow her brain to reengage, her heart threatened to burst out of her chest.

"Miku..."

"Sorry..." Miku was smiling. "I had to."

"I'm glad you did." Luka closed her eyes, released a shaky breath.

"I've wanted to for a long time now... Luka."

Luka felt strangely vulnerable hearing her name, but then Miku threaded their fingers together and her nerves settled. She just had that effect on Luka.

"We should go."

.

.

.

"Thanks for the lift, Lu."

Luka arched an eyebrow at the nickname, but she didn't get a chance to protest it because the green-haired minx was pressing a sweet kiss to her cheek. Miku winked and slid back over to her side, then opened the door and got out. She stepped back and gave a little wave as the car took off.

Luka stared out of the passenger side window long after Miku was no longer in view, her face on fire. Thank goodness the back was tinted and the driver wouldn't be able to comment on the "friend" she'd asked him to drop off at the train station.

She couldn't remember a time when she had been this happy.

"Miss Luka, I've been talking with your handler and he's expressed some concerns."

She had been dreading this phone call. If there was one thing she had learned in the industry, it was that everybody talks. The moment you changed gears—the moment you slipped up—someone was waiting to catch you and use it against you. Avoiding scrutiny was a normal and stressful part of her day, but it seemed she had failed to do so in this instance.

"Oh?"

"You've been distracted of late. Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable?" His tone suggested that the 4.8 million dollar house and lavish treatment should have been more enough.

Sometimes it felt like they forgot she wasn't a robot idol that required only maintenance to continue operating.

"It won't happen again."

Talk turned to the music video's progress and the upcoming concert. This one wouldn't require travel, fortunately, and Luka personally loved performing on her home turf. She wasn't sure what it was, but the Japanese crowd had a different sort of energy from anywhere else she'd traveled.

"How was the rest of your day?"

"I went to lunch and did a bit of shopping. Time flew."

There was a weirdly long pause. Then, "Are you seeing someone right now?"

Her blood ran cold. "No...?"

Had their mad dash been for naught? Had Miku's friend managed to snap a photograph of them together? She forced herself to breathe evenly, rationalizing that there was no way a story would have made it to the press already.

"Just remember that we advise against relationships. You're a star, Luka, and most won't understand the dedication and sacrifices that requires."

"... Right."

"Great. I'll see you at your concert on Monday. Keep up the good work, super star."

*Click*