Written 15.o9.o7
Many thanks and hearts to nickygirl, MoogleX, the-lionness, SpiffyCookie, BrownEyesAngel, Waltz Turner, sangkun, Stars4mel, theladyknight, Kari Kamiya Takaishi, Mrs. Radcliffe 13, calilover for all reviewing & Chibi Bishi plus TheWitchLady for reading all the chapters in one go.
To those who have reviewed the previous chapter: I'll reply to your reviews in the next couple of days
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My Funny Valentine
Chapter Nine
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She sat up on her bed, still clothed in her scarlet dress she had worn the night before and her tresses were eschewing from anywhere but the definition of tidy – something he wasn't used to.
Yamato stretched, hearing her stir. He stood up and went into the nearest bedroom. He had gotten up about five minutes before she had and his body ached for sleeping in the wrong position on her sofa. After he had picked her up by the music store he had driven her home. She wasn't exactly sober, so he had to fish through her purse to find the keys. As soon as he led her to her own room and made sure she was okay, he had collapsed into a slumber on her living room sofa. He had decided to stay at her house for the night because he was too exhausted and had already woken up Taichi when he had left to pick Sora up.
She blinked, looking around her room. Her eyes then focused on him. "Matthew?" Her back straightened, mouth agape. "No…we didn't…we didn't…did we?"
Connecting the dots, he understood what she meant then vigorously shaking his head. "We didn't. I wouldn't do that…one of my friends saw you with Mimi a bit out of hand last night. So I went to pick you up. I apologize for going through your purse…I needed to find the key to your house."
She arched an eyebrow, "Then why are you still in my house…if we didn't, you know…and…you're just wearing your boxers!"
Realization struck him. God was he an idiot. After being rudely awakened by Jun to pick Sora up, he had been so tired to even notice what he was wearing. He had blindly gotten out of bed, snatched the keys and hopped into his car. Not having a good night's sleep always bothered his common sense. Then again…he had to admit he was pretty worried and wasn't properly thinking. He usually wasn't this rash and reckless. That was Taichi's realm of expertise.
He sighed, beginning to explain, "I swear, we didn't do it. I just…wasn't thinking straight when I went to pick you up. Let's just say that 4am isn't the best time for me. And the reason why I'm still at your house is that I fell asleep straight away on your sofa…I thought it would be okay."
"I must have been such a hassle. I can't believe I assumed that. I know you're not a bad ass for a guy," she loudly groaned.
"Gee, thanks," Yamato snidely commented back. She stood up and began to clasp a cream bathrobe around her slim frame and went to her wardrobe to select what to wear. It was already day and the afternoon light was seeping in through her curtains.
"Where's Mimi?"
"My friend named Jun, I don't know if you know her, offered to take her home before she started work."
She laughed quietly "I'm so sorry that I dragged you into this mess, Matthew. I don't usually get that drunk. Just had to celebrate, you know?"
He never liked the idea of females getting intoxicated. He disapproved of it. If it were to be guys, he understood that. But a woman getting drunk…it was a different story. He pretty much got turned off by it. He held his tongue back, wanting to tell her off. It wasn't really his place to give her a lecture. It wasn't as if he had the authority to do so, it was her life…he didn't even border the line between friend and boyfriend. All he knew was that she was his pseudo wife. He then realized how stuffed up this was going to be. With his grandparents coming soon, there was still a lot of work to do to be able to convince them of his new wife.
He stared at her again. He shook her head. From the first time he had met her, he had never pictured her to be the drinking type. Then again, he should have considered it since she was a bartender. "What exactly did you drink to get you out of it so badly?"
"A few Asahis, three shots of Bacardi 151 and some-"
"Are you insane?" he exclaimed, baffled. She was talking so lightly about having three shots of the infamous Flaming Dr. Pepper as if it were nothing. This woman was becoming stranger the more he was getting to know her. He did not understand how her tiny figure could take that amount of alcohol.
"I don't get wasted that easily. Ladies drinks keep me pretty sober," she said. "C'mon, Matthew. When you're shouted free drinks…you can't deny it. Especially when it's from our boss who never shouts us anything free. At least I didn't set it on fire."
"Your hair's already that colour, you wouldn't need to," he sighed. She rolled her chocolate shaded eyes.
"As I said before, I don't do this all the time. I'm usually Mimi's designated friend."
"A designated friend?" he questioned, being the first time he had heard such a term.
"Yeah, that's it," she replied, smirking. "Mimi's apartment isn't too far from most of the bars in Tokyo…plus, she always vomits when she's drunk…so taxis, my car or any form of public transport is out of the question. That's the reason to why I'm usually stuck walking her back to her apartment instead of getting drunk alongside. Thus, I'm the designated friend…Make sense?"
"Crystal," he said tersely. "Trust me, I know the feeling."
It sort of reminded him back in high school years when he was the first to get his car license. Taichi was also eligible to get his licence, but he never could be stuffed to actually sit through the test since he didn't have a car. On the other hand, Yamato had saved for his car since he was given allowance from his father. He loathed the nights when he'd drive around Odaiba with Taichi screaming at the top of his lungs and Takeru pumping the music on full blast. Nevertheless, they were both drunk. He always wondered how Taichi managed to get drinks considering they were underage. But he reminisced how disturbing it was that his own younger brother was drinking with his best friend while he was stuck being their driver going on stupid, yet amusing, escapades.
"Looks like I've got everything. I'm going to get all cleaned up," she muttered, one arm carrying a set of clothes and towel. Her free hand pointed at one of her wardrobes on the opposite side of the room. "You should choose something to wear as well, you'll easily get recognized with paparazzi swarming around wanting to take a picture of you. I think I've got a couple of hats in there too. Feel free to watch TV, I'm going to treat you for brunch."
Before he had the chance to object, she was already out of the room and heading for her long-awaited shower. He followed her instructions and went to the wardrobe, opening it. Inside was quite a lot of men's clothing. He estimated about ten shirts, three jackets and five sets of pants. He was bemused. Why in the world did Sora have so much men's clothing. If she had straight away assumed that they had slept together…could this be…could this be her other nightstands left over clothing? He winced at the thought.
Hand checking the labels of the clothing, he realized that he was thankfully wrong. All the clothing was of the same brand and still had price tags on them. He was grateful that they were crisp new clothes, but he still felt curious to why she had a whole wardrobe of them in her room. Shrugging it off, he chose to slip on a navy polo and black pants. He rummaged the wardrobe for any sort of hat, and found a white visor. It was better than nothing; he plunked it over his blond messy strands and glanced at his appearance through her body-sized mirror.
He went back into the lounge room and switched on the television to the news.
"…will be released in Japan. It has already been released in France and has become quite popular. On other news, famous adventure novelist, Takeru Takaishi, has participated in a fundraising basketball game. All the money earned will be going to various charity funds-"
Yamato chuckled to himself. He was so content and proud of his brother. TK had managed to also become a well-known writer, yet he still remained the same and wasn't washed up in the sparkling corruption of fame. He wished the same could be said about himself. It was only until recently he had noticed what he was turning to and despised it.
"You ready?" she appeared, smiling.
"You look refreshed."
"Don't be too convinced. My head is killing me. I need to be nursed with a good brew of coffee." He sniggered.
"Hey, don't underestimate the healing powers of coffee!" she praised excitedly. "Let's get that brunch, already!'
"You don't need to shout me."
"Too bad, I insist," Sora said sternly. "Just think of it a thank-you for dealing with me."
"You are my wife. I gotta get you out of trouble once in a while. It comes with the package of being your husband."
"Haha, real cute," Sora laughed. She approached him, he instinctively stepped back a bit. But her hands latched onto her collar and smoothed it out. He caught the same whiff or rose perfume and how hypocritical she was. Sure, blue orchids were her favourite…but he definitely knew what a rose smelt like. He blushed. The lingering smell of perfume and alcohol reminded him when he had tucked her in.
She randomly placed a pair of black shades over his azure eyes. "You can borrow these." He accepted it, nodding. Yamato let out a sigh of relief when she took a few steps away from him, gaining his personal space back.
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"That's it…tell me why you've been acting so strange ever since you've come back from your apartment!"
He had been driving his car and erratically turning at any corner while murmuring obscenities under his breath. His fingers were tightened on the wheel and face turning pale. Before having a morning/lunch with Sora, he had dropped over his apartment because he had forgotten his car license. So Sora pretty much encouraged him to go fetch it if he was to be randomly caught.
"Matthew," she warned, waiting for his report on the matter, in which he had witnessed.
Yamato avoided her eye contact and continued to stare at the road in front of him. He shuddered, "Do I have to? I'm still trying to get the image out of my head."
"What image? Describe it."
"There is no way in hell I will describe Taichi and Mimi's sexual interactions to you!" he spat.
"So they've made up? If only I could have seen your face when you walked in on them," Sora snickered, rolling down the window. "You should be happy that Tai will be moving out of your apartment soon."
"Off well damn course I'm happy for them. But I don't find fondling and all that gruesome stuff in my apartment appetizing. I think I'll have to spray and disinfect everything that they've touched." He spluttered on, "They were both nude for crying out loud!"
"And there you go. You've just described it. Argh," Sora grimaced. "You really didn't have to say that." She leaned towards the stereo and pressed play, letting the music boom out of the speakers and clear their mind off the thoughts of what their two best friends had been doing.
Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning
On an ever-spinning reel
As the images unwind
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
Pictures hanging in a hallway
Or the fragment of a song
Half-remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong?
When you knew that it was over
You were suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the colour of her hair?
He noticed that it was her first time seeing her hair down. Her auburn locks capered against the breeze as he sped down the road. He hadn't realized how capturing her hair was, seeing how it shone fiercely against the sun. Yamato had always thought her complexion was darker, but she was actually fair. He didn't know how different the woman appeared during daytime. She looked more open and free, easier to read and to comprehend in comparison from seeing her in the jazz bar. The darkness would sweep and engulf her like a masquerade… and know he could see her… He could even make out a small dimple on her right cheek, something he hadn't recognized before.
They later ended up at the nearest McDonalds they could find (considering the place where Sora had wanted to go was now out of the way due to Yamato's undirected route). Most of the girls that he had dated in the past required an expensive restaurant matched with a formal suit, but Sora fitted under a different category altogether. It seemed she didn't really care where they were going to eat. Then again, once they had gotten a table he had noticed the only thing she was sipping on was a coffee. He, on the other hand, had ordered a large Big Mac Meal.
"Thns agayn," he said gratefully through a mouth full of french-fries.
"You're welcome. It's all on me," she said. "For last night…and about the news I'm about to tell you."
"News?" he repeated curiously, eyes lifting from his burger he was about munch on. "What sort of news?"
"I'm going to be really busy for the next three to four days. Something at work has come up and I have to help out with just about everything. I know, I should have told you about my tight schedules here and there before accepting to be your," she flicked her finger carrying the wedding ring, "…your wife."
"No, it's fine. You see, I've gotten an extension for one of the songs I was meant to produce…so I'm going to busy the following days as well. My grandparents come this Friday…yet, we've got so much to do to. All that we have right now are only our fake wedding rings, but everything else…we gotta work on."
"Like what…kissing?" she teased but the amusement vanished from her face when she caught him pondering. "I was kidding. We could just have the typical kiss on cheek as a sign of affection."
"You don't know my grandparents. Namely, my grandmother. She'd probably want us to be making out in front of her," he said. He groaned. "This is so screwed."
"We've got other choices besides intimacy," Sora reminded. She pulled out a baby blue photo album from her large bag, "Which leads me to this."
From the familiar white lace framing the edges, Yamato knew it belonged to him. Somehow, during his busy timetable he had dropped it at her house. Meanwhile, Sora she had mailed her own photo album to him via post.
She tapped on the cover of his album, "We've still got this option. We simply need to through each other's histories and what we used to do and liked."
"Sounds good to me," Yamato agreed. "It's not like we'll have any other time to do this. So…let's start. I didn't bring your album with me today…so I'll just jump off to random pictures I can remember."
"Anything you want to know?" she asked, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. She looked a bit nervous. He said calmly, "You know, Sora, we don't have to go forward with this. You can pull out anytime you want."
"It's fine, just ask me what you want to know."
"But…I don't want to make you uncomfortable. You don't have to do all this. And asking about what you used to do-"
"Get on with it," she laughed. "You worry too much, Matthew."
Somehow, he suddenly found it annoying and irritating how she always called him Matthew. It was like she looked down on him in a dictating and patronizing sort of way. He understood that it could be for the whole 'disguise' reason, but ever since they had met each other he was just Matthew…not much more, not much less. She had never addressed him as Yamato - his real name. He wondered how his name sounded from her lips.
She stared at him questionably. He cracked a simper. "I was just wondering why you were hiding all the baby photos from me."
"Oh, that," she said, nodding to herself. "I knew you'd ask me about that. It wasn't that I didn't want you to see…it's just truthfully I, myself, haven't been also able to access them for over a decade now."
"How come?"
"My dad has them all. He lives most of the time in Kyoto because he's a professor at on of the universities there. So while my mother and I weren't looking, he snuck them into his briefcase. He visits once in a while…mainly every Christmas."
"Why? Did your parents have a divorce?" he queried. Her story seemed to be hitting close to home for him. "I know how that feels. My parents separated about when I was eight. I lived with my dad, whereas my younger brother lived with my mother."
"Actually, my parents aren't divorced. They somehow maintained a long-distance relationship over the years I grew up. My mother moved to Kyoto when she knew I was independent and capable of taking care of myself, she left Tokyo," she said quietly. "I'm sorry…I didn't know about your family."
"No, it's fine. I was going to offhandedly tell you anyway. You gotta know my parents' status because it's basic knowledge," he said. "My grandparents will catch this whole scheme if you didn't know. That's the whole reason why my brother came up with this idea."
"The me-being-your-wife-idea?"
"That's right, I never completely explained it to you, huh? It mainly stems from my parents' divorce," he said, sipping from his soft drink. "Ever since my grandparents, mainly my grandma, has been pestering me with my love life. Commenting on other girl celebrities I should date, commenting how my old girlfriends didn't meet her expectations. All of that. I know she's doing what she thinks is best for me, but she gets way out of hand…that it's scary."
She smiled, "Seems like fun."
"Ha ha," he laughed weakly, this woman really didn't know what she was getting herself into. "Now that I've gotten that out of the way. Back to you..I heard you played soccer when you were younger?"
"From Tai, I'm guessing," she said. "Yeah, I did. Until my mother made me play tennis instead. Something about me being too much of a tomboy."
"I wouldn't expect you were one, by the way you dress and all. Maybe besides the fact that you don't wear much make up," he said. "You got the natural look goin' on."
It was her turn to laugh out loud, "I actually hate make-up. But…I can't resist putting some on. How bout you…besides the whole rock-star image you got going on, what sports were you good at?"
"Hmm," he thought, finger on his chin as he thought of how to tackle the question. "I used to think I was pretty good at basketball. Until, one day, my father took us to Odaiba Park. There was a court there, so I played one-on-one against my brother. He slaughtered me on the court. Only seven at that time, and he completely demolished me. Ever since I've been hesitant to play. Guess I'm still scarred of being beaten by my own brother who was three years younger."
"That would be pretty embarrassing. Or you must have really sucked at the sport," she sneered. He threw a French-fry at her. "He's actually gifted at the sport. If he wasn't a novelist…he would have easily got himself a place in one of our Japanese Basketball teams – and I'm not boasting."
"I didn't say you were. You're just proud of him," she said.
"Can't help it," he accepted.
She opened his photo album in front of him, pausing at a random page and pointing at the younger replica of himself. "He…he resembles Takeru Takaishi a lot. Since you said your sibling was a novelist…I can't help but help…is he-"
"Yeah, he is," Yamato answered straightaway, feeling amused when he noticed her jaw drop. "I took up my father's surname, my brother took up my mother's maiden one. That's why we got different surnames."
"I love his work…he's so good! You've got to introduce me to him! Can you ask him to give me his autography…he write so magnificently and beautifully, how he described-"
"I know his capabilities. And I also know the definition of a fanatic. Don't worry, you'll have an opportunity to see him. You are his sister-in-law, after all," he said sarcastically, expecting her to stop hyperventilating.
"Oh my god, I'm his sister-in-law!" she exclaimed excitedly, then she laughed at Yamato bewildered expression. "I was just playing."
"I hope so…because that was pretty freaky. Sorta reminded me of this stalker that used to trail me everywhere I went-"
Under thee table, Her heel dug onto his foot. He raised his palms, waving them in front of her face in defeat. Yamato scowled. Her phone buzzed. He laughed when he registered that her ring tone was Blue Moon. She answered, "Sora speaking. Oh, yes. Hi Andrea. Yes. My…I'm sorry, I didn't know! I'll catch a cab ASAP. Okay, bye." Then she hung up.
He tapped his fingers against the table's surface, waiting for her to say that she was going to leave. He assumed correct. "Anyway, Matthew. I hope you enjoyed your meal. I've got to go now. If you need me…just ring me up on my mobile phone or page me. I'm really behind with my work."
"Sure."
"Here," she slid the photoalbum towards his direction. "Thanks for it. When I went through your album…I found a couple of pictures of your band. I never realized how young all of you boys were when you started the Teen-Age Wolves. Good luck with your compositions. I'm sure you'll do well. See you soon."
"Bye," he said. Unexpectedly, he felt the hazy rosy scent fall over him once again. Her lips softly touched his forehead, and then the feeling was instantly gone. "See ya, hubby," she beamed and friskily left the restaurant.
He continued to eat his meal alone with nothing but his photoalbum to accompany his solitary figure. 'So much for other choices asides from intimacy,' he thought to himself. As he chewed on the rest of burger, he flicked through the fragments of his life.
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Yamato wasn't too sure what Sora was doing that was keeping her occupied the continuous days later nor did he even have time to think about it. He, also, found himself busy. He was used to being busy all the time, but sometimes even a celebrity couldn't handle this much. It was like he was going through a burn out. Even so, he kept his head high and ploughed on like he always did.
Due to their late release on the latest album (anticipated by how they still were trying to come up with a new band name and accumulation of putting together their combined songs, which Yamato had failed to do yet), the band encountered having to attend several interviews regarding the case. Yamato's main concern was his manager. Ever since he hadn't turned up the other day, Kanji had been clawing on his back whenever he had the opportunity.
Yamato struggled immensely with the new track he would have to produce as soon as possible. And when he had gotten the song done, after a couple of hard days work…it backfired and Kanji was the least satisfied with his work. According to Kanji his work was '…rubbish! Absolute rubbish. Do it again! What is wrong with you, Yamato? You can do much better than this lame excuse of music! So you can play the piano…I don't care! This is not even close to our style of music."
That afternoon, Yamato wasn't so sure he could handle his manager at the moment. His blood was beginning to boil. He was so aggravated with how all Kanji did was criticize everything about what he did in the song. He couldn't please everyone. In fact, the piece he had produced was probably his best fresh composition for a long time. Had Kanji been there to witness his hard labour? No. Had Kanji noticed all the different instruments besides his peddling of the piano keys that were incorporated into the tune? No. Had Kanji seen how hard and time consuming it took to cast the final draft for the lyrics of his song? No. So what right did his manager have to literally call his music trash..
"Well, you did instruct us to fricken' choose and play a different style if I do recall you saying that!" the blond headed man snarled, trying to not make his tone bitter but was failing at the attempt.
"I did not tell you to change the band's genre altogether, did I?" Kanji dangerously replied. "Can you even picture Yutaka drumming to that slow piece of shi-"
"Hey, hey," the drummer intervened. For the first time, even Yutaka knew that their manager was taking it a bit to far. Sure, Yutaka argued with Yamato a lot, but Kanji was going way out of line. "You never said that we were going to play each other's songs. Yamato can do that acoustically solo if he wishes. So what if it's a different genre. It's jazz..big deal? It's the fans choice in the end…and I have a feeling our fan base will cheer for us wherever we go."
"And that's the type of attitude that will lead us to being bankrupt!" Kanji spluttered. "You can't be overconfident in this business, you should all know that by now. It's rocky…the music industry is never steady, it's always changing!"
"You can hope, right?" Takahashi said pensively.
Kanji heaved, as if ignoring all the other members' views and directed his attention back the lead singer. "You're the lead singer. I expect a better composition in two days. If it isn't done by then...God help us."
They exited their private studio with Akira disappearing in a flash. Yamato sauntered behind Yutaka and Takahashi as they walked down the flight of stairs. "Get a move on, Yamato."
"My, my, my Yutaka," Takahashi remarked, grinning.
"What the fuck is up your arse?" he growled.
"You stuck up for Yamato. There's a first for everything, ey?" he nudged him. Yamato couldn't help but smile.
"Whatever," Yutaka denied, quickly speeding to the parking lot once the three of them were out of the building. Takahashi waited for Yamato be at his pace and offered him a cigarette, "In a mood for some stress repellent. It's the number one cure in Tokyo."
Yamato accepted it, letting the guitarist light it up. He inhaled it with pleasure.
"Yes, you must be really stressed out. You usually refuse cigs, claiming that they'll ruin your voice and all that shit. Wanna talk about it?"
"You know why I'm peed off…no reason to repeat something you already know. Kanji is really pissing me off lately," Yamato sighed.
"Don't let him get up your arse," Takahashi repeated one of Yutaka's favourite sayings. He pulled a cigarette packet out of his pocket and placed it into the palm of Yamato's hand. "Keep it. I can buy another."
Takahashi kept his silence as acceptance and parted ways from him. About half an hour later, Yamato was just about home and tired. He exchanged shoulders for his strap (carrying his guitar) to go around and marched up the stairs. Once he had reached his level, he made his way to his number. He paused, could have sworn he heard his name being called. It wouldn't be Taichi because he had moved out of his apartment once he had made amends with his currently new 'fiancé.' He exhaled thee waste from his mouth, then inhaled the cigarette again.
He unlocked the door and his heart felt like it leapt out of his throat. At that moment, an old man with a balding head and grey beard was facing him with a scowl that looked identical to his when he wanted to condemn something or someone. "You're smoking, Yamato," the man's strong booming voice said with evident disparagement.
"Grandpa?" he blinked, searching for other words to say.
"GET OUT OF THE WAY! STEP ASIDE!" He then felt an elder woman lunge at him. His grandmother's arms squeezing the living daylights out of him into a tight embrace and planted kisses on each of his cheeks.
"You're here early…both of you are!" Yamato said, still feeling quite astounded. Then spoke softly to himself under his breath, "You're both here a bit too early. They were meant to come that Friday evening. It was still only Wednesday afternoon. "How'd you get into my house without the keys?"
Then he spotted TK. Behind his grandparents stood his brother staring back at him fending off an apology. He was obviously the person who had let his grandparents into his apartment. The darn idiot could have at least given him a call…or any sign or warning that their grandparents had arrived at Japan. He couldn't wait to ring his neck.
His grandmother let go of him and peaked over his shoulders, as if waiting for someone to pop out of thin air and deflected his question. "So…where is she?" She was on her tiptoes now, her focus was now darting at the surroundings behind him.
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mobile phone: cell phone
Asahi: Japanese beverage
Song used: Windmills Of Your Mind by Sting (I recommend you to try and get the Montreal Club version because it sounds way better. Even though I usually hate remakes…I found this remake a really good listen).
And so the plot kicks in. Finally. (Not that I'm completely happy with this chapter). I guess that this is the turning point of the story, it'll get more heated up from here. There's still so much to be said and done…so don't think this is the end. So thanks to everyone who has been still hanging on to this story regardless of my very slowww updates. Take care dears. It's 1:58am…I'm going to sleep now.
Flipstahhz
Ps. please avoid grammatical errors. I know they're there...I just don't have the time to fix them up. I would if I could.