Chapter 16: Her Emotion

His Fame, Her Self

Genre: Drama/Romance

Summary- Rima Touya is a lower class girl with a scholarship in a rich elite high school called Knight Academy, filled with rich kids, who hate her! She just wants to finish her schoolwork to graduate high school and become an artist! Unfortunately, Senri Shiki, the most popular boy in the elite academy of snobby rich kids and the known world that has his face on a magazine cover, is interested in the outcast Rima Touya and kinda stalking her...for some reason. Could it be her oversized clothing attire, or her messy hair, or her thickly framed goggles? As she tries to be distant with Senri Shiki, her family and friends push her toward him. Could something start? Or just make the Touya female hate the rich society even more?

Thankz to Readers and Reviewers:

So it took some time to write this chapter due to the horrible writer's block and my own personal issues! College is so hard on me as I spend the majority of my time studying and less time on writing fanfic.

Here is chapter 16!


,"What do you mean?" My heart drops again.

,"Osamu! Shut up!" Senri's voice is grave with an edge of anger as I notice his jaw slightly tighten.

Hashimoto gave Senri a hard glare with his shining amethysts while gently having me stand a few feet away from both boys, "She has a right to know that you played her."

,"Shut the hell up, Hashimoto!" Senri's silver-blue orbs widen and he viciously grabbed Hashimoto's shirt collar. Everybody's eyes were now on the two aristocratic boys who are inches away from an altercation. I began moving to separate them and prevent them from further escalating their actions.

,"He really didn't like you Rima!" Paralyzed, I stare blankly at Hashimoto. My heart drops further and disappears into a sudden emptiness within my body. "You were a bet he made! He made a bet to see if you can become the popular interest of Knight Academy because he was with you! After Minako dumped him, he thought he can make any girl fall in love with him because he had money! Once he got her attention and helped her be popular, he would have knocked Minako and the girl off of their pedestal!"

,"I said shut up!" This time Senri violently shakes Hashimoto's collar to divert his attention. I wanted to separate both of them, to prevent the aristocratic boys from doing anything stupid, but Hashimoto's words made me unable to move and respond properly.

,"You have to tell her the truth, Shiki!" My knees slightly buckle at the volume of his voice, "You used her so you can get back at your ex-girlfriend!"

Senri's voice booms, "You're in on it too!"

,"Was that all I was?" Both wealthy boys turn to me, with their confused wide eyes focused on my small figure, "Some kind of sick joke you can tell all your rich, snobby friends!"

Senri is the first one to move, removing his hold on Hashimoto's collar and moving close to me, and gently speaks, "Rima, no!"

,"Is what he said true?!" Raising my voice, I startle the people within a five-foot radius.

His voice lowers, mumbles, and stumbles as he attempts to find the words, or at least, make a comprehensible sentence. With my eyes focused on him, Senri became more nervous. He rubs the back of his neck nervously, and ruffles the back of his hair with much intensity. I become upset and aggravated by his inability to tell me bluntly and honestly — ironic, considering how he smoothly and rapidly answers and replies to others in a know-it-all manner, now he's completely tongue-tied.

,"You lied to me!" His silver-blue eyes widen as I speak, "You lied to me about everything! Everything you said was a lie! They were just meaningless words, weren't they? I was nothing but a bet! A bet! A BET! A stupid bet!"

Shaking his head, Shiki takes a step closer toward me as I equally take one step back, "From the beginning it was like that. You were a bet. But everything changed, I didn't want to hurt you. I really care about you."

I jerk my shoulder away from his outstretched hand. Gritting my teeth behind my closed mouth, I forcefully swallow the lump that appears in my throat. I'm unable to feel my heart pulsing. For the first time, I admit, I was on the brink of tears.

Shiki opens his mouth. Np sound is produced.

,"I'm nothing but a bet…aren't I?" I lower my voice and stare into his silver-azure eyes deeply. His head lowers a bit as he suddenly finds interest in his expensive shoes. My hands curl and I feel my knuckles turn white; ready to smash the nearest wall, pole or inanimate object.

However, I slowly and gently sigh. I allow him a small glimpse of my glassy eyes as I whisper, "I trusted you."

Minako appears beside Shiki, snaking her arm around his arm to link them together. Her eyes devilishly sparkles as she snuggles close to Shiki's shoulder, "Did you actually think he had feelings for you?"

I desperately wanted to respond, 'For a second, I did,' but decided against revealing such vulnerability. I harshly state, "I thought it was a bit odd how much he wanted to interact with me. Now I know why."

,"Rima..."

"I'll take you home." Hashimoto moves close to me and places a hand on my shoulder. An electric current spreads throughout my body and I react accordingly.

Jerking my arm away, I give a hard scowl to Hashimoto's bewildered expression, "No. You were in on the bet, too. You, also, lied to me! You're just as bad and guilty as he is!"

Looking between both aristocratic boys, I felt so disgusted, "I don't want to talk to either of you! Both of you did not consider how I would be affected by your stupid bet!" Letting out a sharp breath, I continue to glare as both boys attempt to touch me once more, "Don't touch me! Don't touch me."

,"Rima, please." Hashimoto reaches his arm out toward me, and I angrily slap it away from me.

,"No!" I firmly spoke as I glared at him, "I said not to touch me. I do not want to be associated to either of you! From now on, leave me alone!"

Turning my heel, I could hear Minako's suppressed giggle as I continue to walk out of the auditorium with a stiff lip. As much as I felt the heavy pain inside as well as the abysmal emptiness, I walk proudly and confidently until I was away from aristocratic eyes.


Locking the door furiously behind my back, I take swift and hard steps down the basement stairs to my clear white canvas. Instead of using my proper manner and style of preparing to paint, I fiercely grab a palette and any colors that caught my eye: red, black, silver, white and gray.

I throw my backpack on the floor to where it skids shortly against the basement's tile surface.

Gripping my paintbrushes in my fists, I'm nearly frighten of getting splinters in my palm or breaking the brushes but all worry is push aside as I passionately throw my paint across the surface of the canvas. In a heated moment of my thoughts, I'm blind and unaware of my surroundings since I felt the only thing that existed was me, my painting utensils, and the canvas.

Splattering the entire surface with red, I empty the bottle of its content and soon use whatever my hands could get to. I made sharp, strong strokes with the gray and black; not even caring that I damage the brushes in the process of my harsh grip and forceful strokes.

Completing the canvas in the silver that was left on my palette, where I aimlessly stroke the brush against the surface of the canvas in a violent pressure. In the back of my mind, I begin to fear destroying the canvas. With a final rough thrust of my wrist, my paintbrush bristles furiously against the left edge of the canvas and my fingers finally give into the pressure applied. I unlatch the brushes until they clack to the floor, unceremoniously.

My eyes stare at the monstrosity before my eyes; my canvas is an ominous cloud filled with wrath, turmoil and hate released as a sense of relief off my shoulders.

With trembling knees, I fall to the ground; I give into the fatigue my body placed all its effort on the canvas. My breathing starts to get ragged and uneven as I begin to stare aimlessly at the floor as I attempt to support my body from collapsing with my quivering shoulders.

The painful feeling lodges against my chest while my heart beats rapidly against my ribcage and throat. I'm unsure why— is it because I ran all the way to my house from school? Or was it because of the sudden burst of energy I put on my painting?

Suddenly my tightened jaw loosens and I feel cool streams trail down my cheeks and slowly curve down to my chin. Without warning, I begin crying silently and slowly. I can no longer resist the urge to close my eyes and only make fresh tears cascade down my face. Why am I crying?

,"Why am I crying?" The lump in my throat made it difficult for me to speak up. My heart starts pounding furiously against my chest. I place my hand over my heart in hopes that it would help ease the painful throbs. Suddenly the feeling of a bottomless pit overwhelms my body and I cry furiously, "Why am I feeling like this?!"

I begin to cry uncontrollably in-between a few shaky intakes of oxygen, "Why?...Why?...Why do I feel like my heart has been taken away from me? Why do I feel so helpless and hopeless?!" Tightly shutting my eyes, I dare not open them to see what I've done: to myself and my art. I'm ashamed of having my feelings take over me.

The pain is too much to keep in and without second thoughts, I scream painfully toward the ceiling with an immense force; it drains all my energy to support my body and I collapse to the floor.

I sob hysterically on the icy, cold floor. I'm weak and ashamed to even attempt to stand up.

A few muffled voices on the other side of the basement door made a series of knocks that pound the door frame- each one louder and forceful than the previous ones, the doorknob jiggles and moves as the person or persons attempt to open the door. After a few minutes, it finally all stops.

Suddenly my cell phone rings from the left side of my jeans pocket. I slide it out gently with my trembling hands to see Sachiko's name and picture brighten up the screen; I stare at it until her name fades and becomes replaced by the missed call notification. Relief overwhelms me until my phone rings again and I notice Sachiko's name light up the screen again. Giving up and unable to take the ringtone anymore, I turn my phone around and take off the back piece and, in an irritated manner, tear the battery out making the dead ringtone a remedy to my ears and heart.

Lying on the floor with my disheveled hair, it clings to my face. My misty eyes are easily able to break into another sob, my body trembles in pain, and my entire insides feel vacant, unoccupied - nothingness.

My heart breaks into jagged, fragmented pieces as I feel I can no longer give it to just anyone to hold even if I manage to mildly reassemble it. My heart crumbles at the thought of actually falling in love with Senri Shiki in the first place. My heart crumbles into more pieces as I was fooling myself into thinking he might actually like me back.

A few more silent tears slip and sting my eyes as I attempt to swallow my sobs to avoid crying and worsening the pain in my throat.

My heart crumbles into even more minuscule pieces as I begin to think about the possibility of getting over him is easier said than done.


Returning to school, whispers and hush voices occupy every corner of the campus. Everyone knows what happened yesterday during the gymnasium between Senri and I; though rumors also swirled more ridiculous notions but I overlook such mediocre assumptions. No one had the full story, they constructed a story stitched by what they heard passing down the halls, cafeteria and classrooms and what they heard from someone else. I heard faint whispers of my changed appearance since yesterday and the possibility of me changing schools.

They didn't know my pain. I am merely a performer, an entertainment for the aristocratic population. Pushing up my frames, I continue to walk into the main building and open my locker all the while having people not-so-discreetly reference and glance at me as they walk by.

I mentally sigh while taking out my books and placing my old books in the shelves. Despite my attempts to ignore the high school drama around me, my ears perk up at the whispers of my name and feel their eyes burrow in the back of my head.

"Rima." I stop everything I do, even breathing. I notice the shuffling of feet in the hallways cease, as well as the halt of the whispers.

Turning around, I glance the silver-blue eyes of Senri Shiki. To my dismay, everyone walking down the hallways had abruptly stopped and stared at us. The tension in the air is prevalent and thick as the million eyes staring at me. It makes me irritated as the sight of the grey-azure eyes of Senri Shiki builds up my anxiety.

Silently gulping the lump in my throat, I face my locker to rummage for an invisible book required for an imaginary class. While the silence continues, I set my hands on one of my old Latin books. Tucking the book with my other books, I peek over my shoulder to see the crowd and Senri Shiki STILL staring at me.

,"Rima, can we talk somewhere private?" Inside, I'm boiling at how easily he says my name. I thought about how he doesn't have any right or privilege to say it so gently. I'm also hurt by how I slowly crumble every time he says my name. I just don't want him to say my name and look at me, or I just can't handle it?

Ignoring his request, I turn to my locker and automatically shut it. The bell rings and I quickly walk through the crowd to get to my next class. Despite my fast pace, I hear a pair of footsteps shadowing my own as the whispers of the crowd begin to emerge.

,"Rima, please!" I freeze as his fingers gently and forcefully grip my wrist. He sighs, "Please look at me." My eyes divert to the tile floor. I know if I look into his eyes, I'll burst into tears from pain or make a failed attempt to hide my pain.

,"No. I told you not to touch me." I scoff as I try to wiggle my arm away from his grip, but he tightens it. The lump in my throat appears again, and I swallow hard in hopes it will disappear.

,"I'll let go if you agree to talk to me?" His voice lingers as I desperately try to break away from his hypnotic spell on me.

A painful and angry feeling sweeps inside me as I didn't want to become easily swayed by the sound of his voice, or the look in his eyes, "No. I have to get to my class." With a forceful shake, I get out of his grip and walk down the hallway.

After walking a few feet, I look over my shoulder to see the crowd of people engulf Senri Shiki. I continue to walk to my class despite the continuing hallway whispers and rumors.

Despite acknowledging my harsh and cold treatment toward Senri Shiki, he didn't deserve to touch me, to talk to me, to say my name so informally when it was all a game for the aristocratic boys amusement. I tell myself that everything he did with me, to me, were all a ploy for his game, his amusement, and his enjoyment. He held no regards toward my feelings for the exchange of my secrets, dreams, ambitions, and fears. I was nothing more than a game piece, a toy, a joke. Knowing he made this bet, without any regards to their repercussions, makes me fueled with anger and pain.

The pain usually overcomes the anger because I actually believed he wasn't what he is: a snobby, spoiled rich kid with elitist ideology who sees the world as his playground and bring it upon himself to toy around with others as he sees fit.

In all honesty, I feel more of the pain than the anger. But I won't let anyone know that. I even deny it to myself. Because if I was in more pain than rage, it will further prove my actual feelings for Senri Shiki.

Right now, I don't want to admit my feelings.


,"Rima, someone's asking for you." Masaru's gentle voice and knock interrupts my dazing.

I automatically breathe my typical response, "I'm not home."

My half-lidded eyes focus on my blank ceiling.

,"It's Big Sister Yumiko." My heart slightly drops.

I silently hold my breath. I directed my anger towards Senri Shiki, not Big Sister Yumiko. But I haven't made any contact with anyone either associated to Senri Shiki or myself.

I haven't talked to Kazou or Sachiko much. Even at work. I usually avoid them as much as I can by changing my work schedule. I barely talk to my Dad and brothers. I immediately change the topic or leave the room if they try to talk to me about Senri Shiki.

It could be a defensive mechanism or something of that sort. But overall, I just don't want anyone try to coddle me or pity me. I don't want either of that. I just want to be alone.

,"Rima?"

, "T-tell her...I'm not home," I slightly hesitate to respond.

Noticing my uncertainty, Masaru voice shakes behind my door as he questions, "You sure?"

I confidently repeated, "Tell her I'm not home." I slightly raise my voice to further emulate my confidence, "If she asks where I am, tell her you don't know. Tell her I might be at the neighborhood bookstore, or Kokoro, or Arakawa's Place." I heavily sigh, "I'm not home."

My ears perked at his deep, heavy sigh, "Okay."

The heaviness of his footsteps left my bedroom door way and thumped down the hallway until it faded down the stairs.

Staring back at the blank ceiling, I release a tense, heavy breath. I swallowed the lump in my throat and blinked the possible tears away. No! I will not cry or weep! I will not show them how fragile and breakable I am! I will not show any feelings of weakness! I will not show them my vulnerability! No!

I whisper to myself, "I'm not weak. I just want to be alone."


,"Hey Rima, it's me, Senri. Um, you haven't returned any of my calls. If you get this message, please call me back. Please!" The machine beeps, indicating the end of the message.

Five minutes later the phone rings, the caller ID states it's the famous model Senri Shiki calling I allow it to ring for seven more times until it goes to voice mail, "Rima, please answer your phone, Your cell phone or house phone, even a pay phone! Just, please call me!" The machine makes another beep.

Not even three minutes after the previous message, the phone rings again with his name blinking on the caller ID. The constant phone ringing begins to irritate me. I walk to the kitchen and open a few drawers in search for an item to appease my nerves. I finally find the tool just as he begins his message, "Rima, I'm sor—" His sentence cut off once I place the scissors handle in my fingers and snip the phone line.

Silence.

A bittersweet feeling of relief and pain envelopes me as I toss the scissors into the drawer. I felt happy to disconnect the incessant, annoying rings, messages and beeps with a swift motion of the scissors. I begin to feel an aching numbness in my chest as I realize he just used me — I momentarily disregard my father's potential anger towards me once he discovers I cut the phone cord.

As much as I didn't want anything to do with Shiki, I'm unsure how to feel between his actions towards me and what I feel towards him. I'm so angry with myself than I am at him, with that said, I would not dare to admit to my feelings — they are too jumbled up and turbulent at this moment, yet precarious fragile at the possibility of forceful impact. All I know is the awful pain stretching across my rib cage when ever I think about him and how I yearn for solitude.

Despite Sachiko and Kazou calling me on my cell phone, I don't answer. Yesterday, my voice mail was full with the voices of Shiki, Kazou and Sachiko. I don't reply since I wish to avoid contact with anyone who dare to ask me 'what's wrong?' or 'are you okay?' — I don't want pity or comfort; I want distance and solitude. I don't want to talk or express my feelings; they are mundane compared to Shiki's deceitful actions. I yearn to hit something but I choose to become compose and endure my inner turmoil in silence. I endure without any notice, attention, or theatrics.

The numbing feeling eats away at my core. I stay locked in my room or my studio for hours, yearning for the solitude and silence that is my only peace. I read my books to avoid opening the door, going outside or talking to anyone.


Leaving the confides of my room, I walk down the stairs to get something to eat. As I enter the living room, Umeki is sitting tensely on my father's armchair with his briefcase on his lap.

,"Hey Umeki." I catch his attention, "Masaru is doing some afterschool activity today. He won't get home until a couple of hours."

,"Actually," He speaks calmly making me stop in my tracks, "I came here to talk to you."

I raise an eyebrow, "About what? You know I'm not doing any shoots this week or next week."

"I know that but I wanted to speak to you about Senri Shiki."

My heart drops, but I place a calm demeanor upon my visage, "What about him?" Umeki slightly raises his briefcase from his lap and tosses some booklets on the coffee table. Walking closer, I notice they are magazine tabloids with Senri Shiki and me on the covers.

Strolling towards me, my eyes widen as Umeki's becomes full of fury.

,"Why didn't you tell me you knew Senri Shiki?!" Umeki viciously waves the cover of CELEBS magazine in front of my face a cheaply photo shopped image of my nerdy self and the ever-illustrious Senri Shiki.

Sighing, I blow my bangs out of the corner of my eye, "Because you'd be acting like this!" My eyes dart to the cover along with my hand pointing to it, "Why do you even read CELEBS? They're the main magazine which misconstrue celebrities every action into over proportionate rumors that's a bit of borderline yellow journalism!"

Slamming the magazine on the surface of the coffee table with the others, Umeki flares his nostrils, "I don't care about the magazine's reputation! I'm upset over the fact that you knew Senri Shiki for a long time and didn't even bother to give us an introduction!

,"You were already introduced to each other! And what does it matter if we knew each other? We weren't talking about business nor having a relationship."

,"Then what kind of relationship did you have with him?"

I stay silent for a while as I mildly contemplated what our previous relationship was but couldn't describe it, "It doesn't matter. I'm not speaking to him. For all I care, he could move across the globe and find someone else whom the tabloids can assume he's in a relationship with."

Umeki forcibly grabs my arm as I struggle to release myself from his grip, "Oh no, you're not doing that. I'm still your manager, you have to do what I say." He vehemently shoves me towards the door, "You're going to apologize to Senri Shiki, re-new whatever relationship you had with him and properly introduce us. I will not let you ruin this opportunity for me!"

After another struggle, I victorious release myself from his grip as I fiercely retort, "If you badly want to be Senri Shiki's manager then go find him and give him your business card. As for being my manager, it doesn't mean you control me!"

,"I DO control you Rima!" Umeki walks over to his brief case and takes out a stack a papers from it. He proudly and angrily strides to me with his hands holding the stack of papers neatly clipped together, "We have a contract, Rima! So, do as I say or I'm taking you to court!"

I furiously shove the stack of papers away from my face, "One, I'm a human being, not a cash cow! Two, if you take me to court then you have to air out your dirty laundry to advance in modeling agency by using my brother a minor for it! You over exceed his work hours which is against child labor laws!"

His face did not change. Red with anger and frustration and his blonde dyed hair in disarray as his flared his nostrils, "We have a contract!"

Did we mean nothing to Umeki but possible networks to his ambitious success of the social ladder? Does my brother mean nothing to him? Anger wells up inside of me. I realize if Masaru or I held a passion in modeling, that our dreams would shatter from the egotistic goal of Umeki wanting success and wealth from more popular clients such as Senri Shiki.

Grabbing the papers, I push past Umeki and march toward the kitchen. His heavy strides follow behind me. I twist the stove knob to light a blue flame which flickers after two sharp clicks. My hand drops the stack of papers on the blue flame and I watch the papers curl and turn black. I glance at Umeki's expression: his mouth is wide open and his eyes are as big as dinner plates. He attempts to save the stack of papers. But there is nothing worth saving but the paper with a bold 'CONTRACT' title.

Glaring at him, I brusquely reply, "Now we don't! I quit! Your contract only abides to your employees, and I'm not one of them. And seeing as my brother is not home, I recommend you to get out of my house!"

His eyes are wild with bewilderment. Looking between me and the burnt contract, he angrily whispers, "You'll regret this, Rima."

I tighten my jaw to not slip a dirty phrase slip through my mouth and to control my burning desire to physically express my anger. I hold my breath until I hear him slam the front door roughly.

Catching my breath, I understand holding in all my fears, rage, and irritation solved nothing. However, I'm not planning to yell at anyone who irritates me. I was, at least, able to stand up to Umeki.

I realize hiding and penning up my feelings will not make the pain or anger disappear, I'll just end up more hurt and become angrier. Though I rarely raise my voice and become really angry, I feel an immense relief at being capable to channel my emotions. I can't put them in a box and have them collect dust on the shelf because my emotions are not books, postcards, or magazines, my emotions are me — a part of me that I really can't live without, even if I try to.

So why was I trying so hard not to express my feelings? Because I don't want to get hurt, I don't want to hurt others, or both?

In the end, I finally admit to having feelings.


I was planning on writing this chapter for some time but I didn't plan it to take so long to write and expect my own emotions to become placed in this chapter. Yes; I used my own personal painful experience to write this chapter. I thought this chapter was based on emotions, something Rima often has difficulty showing and revealing outwardly. Plus she's shown as some-what passive aggressive. I wanted to show her progression as a stronger figure by being more vocal about her feelings.

So I really hope you liked this chapter and would kindly review it. Tell me what you liked or didn't like! I wanna hear from my readers!

If I don't respond as quickly, I truly apologize and will try to reply as soon as possible!

Thank you for your time and patience!