Written: o2.o5.o6
Whoa! Thanks for all the positive feedback, you guys ;D
Wishinstahhz, The Bunny Queen (Hell yeah, I juggle…and I'm barely coping with it! Haha. Hope in me finishing soon? Argh, I've still got a LOT to do. LOL), JyouraKoumi, hasu, nickygirl (pick Sora? This chapter tells you it all ;D), Yume-dream (More like a big GRAY lie? Haha…maybe I should change it to little GRAY lie…lol), Isky & theladyknight (It's alright about the long review…look how long I took to update :S . Saxophone? Drool…I've been wanting to learn how to play that instrument though I never got the time. I'll probably learn it after high school, haha. Okay, I'll know where to turn to when it concerns to more jazz songs ;D I vaguely remember Yamato cooking – but burning the food when he found out that Jun was on the phone - …so I thought it would suit that chapter. Yamato would probably of learnt how to cook good if his dad was always out and also being there was no one there to cook for him. Oedipus the King? Another story to add to my lists. LOL. That is major ew. You thought of my story to one of Shakespeare's sonnets…aww…I feel loved . LOL. Thanks for the review darls)
My Funny Valentine
Chapter Three
A waver of reluctance and vigilance engulfed him as he entered the jazz bar for the second time that week. Two nights in a row…it surely had to be his most recent record. He never knew that he would be retracing his steps that he had done the night before. The same stench of foggy cigarettes occluded his nostrils, yet there was still a different spice in the air. Perhaps he was nervous? Yamato Ishida didn't know.
The allegro music notes sang from the pianoforte, but the instrumental jazz didn't calm him down as it usually did. Paranoia broke his sweat as he constantly glanced around the faintly lit bar. But he held his apathy persona playing, his intense azure eyes kept his masquerade up in hiding the fact that he was actually nervous in the first place with addition to the dark sunglasses he was also clad in.
A flash of light sparked his direction causing his body to tense edgily. He closed his eyes, waiting next for the flood of paparazzi flashes to flood him in method. But it didn't come. He sighed in relief. Sora hadn't told anyone. Neither his 'personal' fan club nor the much-loathed media had found out where he was.
He located where the bright source of illumination had come from and cursed when he read the message on his cell phone.
'You'd better be socializing and finding yourself that wife of yours! You don't have much time to be lounging around doin' nothing. Cheers and Good Luck, Teeks'
"Takeru," Yamato grumbled his name, growling as he threw the phone into his jeans pocket. Rarely Yamato had lost his cool. But only Takeru (nicknamed Teeks or TK), and Takeru alone could get to him. And he hated it.
The whole reason behind the text message was an absurd concept, schemed and plotted by TK, that Yamato had only been notified that day. His own brother was a good for nothing selfish traitor. His own flesh and blood had turned against him to join forces with another person who also carried the same flesh and blood – TK and his grandparents.
To cut things short, TK had told their grandparents that he – Yamato Ishida – was married. It was ridiculous! Yamato rarely had time to himself to be juggling his career and personal life…but now he had to deal with finding a woman?
He should of stuck to the impersonator idea…
His fingers ran through his blond hair, chin holding onto the cordless phone as he patted his foot against the wooden floor impatiently. His brother sat at the end of his bed, staring at him and shaking his head disapprovingly.
"You don't even have to ring that hotline up! You're a real chicken, you know? Even though you get all this publicity and visible to the world, you're a hermit in real life."
"TK…"
"I mean…any girl would go for you! You've got it all!" TK said, leaning back on his bed as he stared at the ceiling. "Oh Yamato…you're so damn hot, I want you, I need you -"
Yamato hushed his brother as he listened into the phone, "You have reached yellowpages please select a word for us to search -"
"Actors," Yamato abruptly said.
"Connecting…"
"You can't be serious!" TK groaned. "I thought you were kidding about actually getting yourself impersonators."
After thinking through the problem earnestly, Yamato had come up with a spectacular (or so he thought, but not according to TK) plan. The idea was to pay for two 'impersonators:' one that looked like him, and the other who could be a random woman. The plot was to make the two impersonators break up in front of a huge crowd and cause the media to send the message to France, hopefully causing his grandparents from coming to Japan. After a lot of thinking, he was almost sure the idea would work…almost
"Hello Josephine, I was wondering if I could hire some actors to impersonate…"
By the time the descriptions and total amount was all discussed about, TK still had a scowl on his face. The older blond headed man slipped his hand behind the back pocket of his jeans, unable to locate his wallet.
"Ey TK, could you fetch my wallet? It's either in my jeans pocket or on the dressing table," Yamato called out to his sibling then spoke into the phone. "Sorry Josephine, it won't take a minute. My brother's getting my credit card."
Yamato's eyes bored onto his brother thoroughly search for his wallet in the two main places he'd usually have it, but TK shrugged. "I don't know where it is! I'm serious!"
Giving a slight sigh, Yamato began searching his room as well. For a man, his room was quite neat. To be a 'rock star,' he had to be organized. From going on tours all over the world to waking up four am in the morning. Being famous wasn't all glorious. He was still a human being that had a lack of sleep and had the ability to lose things. And at the current situation, he had no idea where his wallet was.
He heard his voice being questioned on the other line of the phone. He shook his head in irritation. "Josephine, could you please hold and save those details. I've misplaced my wallet, I'll call you back when I find it…then we can finalize the payments. Thanks."
He hung up the phone, eyes fixed on his brother.
"I swear, man! I didn't hide it this time! I may have been a bad brother with telling grandma about your false love life….but I swear, I would never mess with your belongings," TK spluttered, waving his hands in the air. "I think I've already learnt my lesson when I accidentally spilt coke on your guitar. You noogied me bad!"
"Fine, fine…I believe you. Just stop pleading and begging, it doesn't suit your sinister nature."
"Gee, I feel really better now," TK spoke sarcastically. His face turned serious, "That's not good if you lost your wallet…"
"Tell me about it," Matt sighed, scratching his head. "I had almost everything in there."
"When did you have it last?"
"Not sure…I haven't seen it around all day," he replied, searching through his room. He had made it past his closet and now was looking at the stashes of music CDs neatly piled on top of each other.
He groaned. He'd never find his wallet at this rate. If he had lost it in the street someone would of used all the money and using his credit card. This wasn't good…
Frowning, he still stared at the CDs. All of them were organized by genre. He had almost every genre from heavy metal to slow classical love songs. And Jazz…how could he forget that? He chuckled, taking one of the CDs from the rack and observing the cover.
"You're laughing. How can you be laughing when you've just lost your wallet? Are you insane?"
Matt shrugged, placing the CD into the stereo system flooding his room with the bebop music.
"How can you listen to that trash?"
"Why can't you shut up and observe art for once?" Matt muttered, even though he knew that his sly mock was not true. TK was more artistic in writing, whereas he was more artistic in music.
Maybe that was the reason why TK stayed with their mother while Matt stayed with his father after the divorce. Their mother was a writer for a local newspaper while their father had been a former member of a rock band when he was younger. Matt had to admit, without his father's connections he would of gotten anywhere with his music career. But was it worth it? Matt really didn't know…
The CD transited to the next track. Matt recalled hearing it the night before, at the Jazz Bar. It was a great piano piece that Alejandro was playing, as Sora had told him. Come to think about it…he had given Sora his favourite jacket…he needed to remember to buy another one. Given her his jacket… It was then that it all clicked where he had last remembered his wallet tot be in.
"Sora's got it! I left my wallet in the jacket I let her wear!" Yamato exclaimed excitedly over the music. "All we've gotta do now, TK…is go back to that jazz Bar, obtain the wallet from her and then hire actors with the help of my credit card!"
TK blinked, a smirk sliding onto his features. "Who's Sora? Who's this girl you gave your jacket to?"
"This woman…who works at the Jazz Bar," he stared at his brother, not liking the mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Oh…so I see. So you've been going to the Jazz Bar to check her out…this whole time? You dawg!"
"I…wasn't. I really like the music…"
"Sure," the younger man gave him a knowing look. "And you claim to speak to no girls…yet you make this woman an exception. Who is she really, Matt? Who is she to you?"
"TK…there's nothing going on!"
"That's good then!"
"Excuse me?"
"Instead of hassling about getting actors…why don't you just ask that woman? She can't deny you…you're the Yamato Ishida."
"Enough treating me like some crazed obsessed fan girl. That's what put me off the whole dating scene."
TK shook his head, "Stop changing the subject. You're going tonight. You're going to ask her to be your pretend to be your wife and give her five thousand dollars for doing a favour for you!"
"Five thousand dollars!"
"You can hack it," TK shrugged. "You get million times that amount, stop being stingy."
"I guess," his mind wandered.
"Great! Then that's settled! You'd better be in charge. Go to that Jazz Bar and make the deal. If the five thousand doesn't work, just supply her with the Ishida smile."
"I didn't say that I would agree -"
"I've gotta meet up with Kari now," he patted Matt on the back and headed out the bedroom door. Matt gave a frustrated groan. How in the world was he going to pull this off?
That's right…how was he going to pull it off?
He sat on the stool, elbows resting on the bench where he let his head clamped onto his hands. The last time he had tried to pick up a girl was back in high school. After that, the dates he had went on were more of the females that asked him out. Other than that the women interested with him were chasing after his money, popularity or looks. Not him, not who he was. Yamato suddenly could sense a rose scent merging with the thick air of cigarette smoke.
"You're back again, Ishida."
Her cool soothing words sleeked over the instrumental music. The music was no competition against her sweet soft voice. But he wasn't going to be easily deceived. He may have bumped into her numerous times he had come to the bar, but it did not mean that he knew her in and out. But the same couldn't be said about him. She knew who he was…
"I am. I'm just surprised there isn't any media or paparazzi about."
She deftly accumulated his brown battered wallet onto the bench, "What do you think of me?"
"I really don't know," he said, taking his wallet, not bothering to check if everything was in there. He already knew the answer that she hadn't taken anything. The money and credit cards would have been gone if the media publicity was there, and in that case there was no sign of any sort of media as well as the squealing girls. Thank God.
"If I wanted attention in showing off to the world that Yamato Ishida comes to this bar, I would of done it earlier."
"How long have you known?"
"From the first time you walked in," she laughed, brown eyes showing a flicker of amusement. "Those shades that you wear don't do you any good…you're still pretty recognizable."
"Then why hasn't anyone else picked up on my appearance?" he asked.
"Because some of the people don't really mind. Some people may not want you to flood the place with people who are ignorant and don't care for the music here. Some people may have -"
"I get the point. But I still don't understand how you were able to recognize me…"
She rolled her eyes, pacing to the other side of the bench and serving another man. She walked back to him, "My friend was obsessed with you. She had posters plastered on her walls of your band."
"Oh," he said. That answered it. Even if it did sound arrogant that he accepted it, it was reality. He shuddered at the fact that many people would have pictures of him in their bedrooms. Even though he had been the rich and famous for quite some time now, he still hadn't adjusted to the lifestyle.
"Water?" she questioned, holding out a jug.
"Asahi please."
"Beer this time...you've always ordered a water or a soda whenever you come," her sharp gaze was suspicious.
"Just give me something strong," he muttered. Hell, he really needed something strong to ease his anxiety. Asking this woman out was going to be difficult. He had witnessed many men offering a date numerous times, and she rejected them all.
Would he also become another of her rejectees?
In seconds, a full glass was in front of him. He swigged a few gulps down, letting the alcohol ease him.
"And I thought you were a polite non-alcoholic," she laughed. "You really are like any other man, rude and ill mannered. A thank you would have been good, seems you've forgotten how to say thanks…you usually do."
It was always like this. Whenever they spoke, it was like they wanted to outdo each other. They always suspected what the other would say, only to be surprised with the answer he or she would give.
"Thanks," he replied apologetically. He gazed at her, "There are many things you don't know."
"Right now," she said truthfully, "all I see is a glossy magazine cover rock star in my café…and him actually interested in the jazz music is quite intriguing."
"All I see is a bartender who seems happy with what she's doing," he said quietly. Even though he should of hurried things and asked the women to be his impersonator already, he was still dabbling on. "And why is that? Why is she happy being a bartender?"
"Yamato, I am happy with what I'm doing," she replied. "I actually love what I'm doing. Working here isn't only a job to me…it's a – no my passion. What more could I ask for? The music is incredible."
"So you're actually happy here? You don't regret anything…?"
"You can't hold onto regrets for too long," her gaze appeared distant. "I'm living in the moment, and I'm content where I am. How about you, Mr. Rockstar? Are you happy with what you're doing? Why does a rock star like you even come to jazz café in the first place?"
He felt slightly uneasy with all her interrogations, but thought she had the right to know. He didn't know why he could spill out this thoughts to her, especially when he hardly knew her. Perhaps it was because he could never discuss things like this to other band members, his best friend or even his family. Sometimes it felt comfortable to talking to a stranger.
"Financially wise, I am happy. But in my world, it's a tough business being constantly in touch with the media and being on the roll through morning to evening. I was thrilled when my band became famous. I was young; I didn't know what I wanted or what I really was getting myself into. Now that I'm older, I actually don't really enjoy the music that I play…I can't seem to connect with the lyrics. The songs I sing now lack meaning and originality…"
"That's true. I never really liked the Teen-age Wolves in the first place," she said bluntly. But he was glad that she was true. He was sick of always being praised for something he knew wasn't that good, again she had caught him off guard. Her sincere honesty was refreshing. "Sure, you could play the instruments well, and your voice is really good…but you and your band seemed to always lack the heart."
"Lack the heart?"
"Yes, lack the heart and soul in what you were singing. What you performed were just words…but not the words' interpretation," she said. "You could be singing a whole lot of crap without knowing what the hell the word meant. But singing and putting yourself in a person…makes the music more beautiful."
"That's why I love jazz," Yamato laughed, taking another sip from his glass. "I don't understand why you have such expertise in music."
"Working here for four years has taught me," she shrugged, a small smile appearing on her face. "And I'm not a fool to see that there's something you want to do or say…there has to be a sudden reason why you were in the need of some vodka."
With subtracting a few bits here and there, it took about five minutes to quickly outline his situation to her. He rambled on about his grandmother's obsession with her grandchildren's love life to how TK and he had thought of an idea to getting impersonators, which turned out to be a failure because Sora had had his wallet.
And now, he was going to drop the bomb.
In timing, a customer ordered drinks. So she watched him intently as she began to brew drinks. "So what have I got with it, Yamato?"
He neglected the question by giving her information first, "I'll pay you five thousand dollars, if you would follow it through for two weeks."
An eyebrow raised when he spoke about the money, "Are you bribing me?"
"In a way, I guess…so what do you say?"
"I need to know what you want me to do," she said, asking, "So what is it?"
"Be my wife." For the first time, he watched the glass of liquor slip from her grasp, shattering into varying pieces on the counter. She didn't seem to care about the mess she had caused.
She choked out, "Your wife?"
"You really need to clean up that glass…you'll get hurt," he said, trying to find the best way to get out of the pickle. He didn't want to face the rejection, and he knew it. Nevertheless, he had never seen her react in such a way. This was the first time he had witnessed her actually dropping glasses. He was used to watching her skillfully handling the glasses.
"Your wife?" she repeated. Her lips quirked upwards as she grabbed a broom from behind the counter, sweeping the glass that had fallen onto the floor.
"So," Yamato sighed. "Would you consider it? Unless you're a bad actress…plus, it's understandable if you don't want -"
"I'm in. It's easy."
"What?" he gaped at her, shocked. "Why?"
"Yamato…I guess…I wouldn't of accepted being your wife earlier, but now that I've talked to you a bit more, you seem like a nice guy – not an arrogant jerk"
"That's because there's money involved in it."
"I'm not a gold digger," she said as she continued to sweep the broken shards of glass. "How can you say that when you don't even know me?"
"How can you believe pulling this off is a synch?" he queried back. "And you don't know me either."
"You're a rock star…living the best life…off course I know you."
Yamato frowned. Somehow, he wanted to pull off the deal altogether. He thought she was different. He didn't think she was one of the women who thought his lifestyle was enchanting.
"Is that your only reason why you want to do this…just have a blast?" he asked, quietly. Then again, if Sora wanted it to be that way…maybe it would be fine. It was better not to have a close connection to her and expect anything. Maybe spending time with her as a friend would be entertaining.
"I have other reasons, Yamato," she responded. Her brown eyes twinkled as she stared at him, "Maybe I'll tell you one day."
"Maybe," he shrugged. The woman was bemusing him more and more. Before he could slip in more words to her, she informed him that her customer was still waiting. He'd have to wait…
Again, unhappy with this chapter. I had to rewrite this chapter again because computer didn't save it…so it's lacking detail here and there. It's really annoying…because I had it all set! I would of made this chapter better quality if I had more time, but I felt guilty in not updating…plus I don't think I'd have excess time after this considering mid year exams are coming up. The ending is sort of rushed (if you can't tell)…I'm really annoyed. ( I think the stress of everything is getting to me)
What I'm sort of 'okay' about is that I tried a new structure in this chapter. I put the order of events as present, past, present. (Matt entering bar, Matt's talk with TK, Matt's talk with Sora). I guess it was fun going back and forth. ;D OKAY, need to sleep now. THANKS for being patient with me and keeping up with this story ;D LOTS OF LOVE
Note: not edited (forgive the typos for they shall be fixed when I have time to fix them)