The Social Scene
Chapter 8
I don't want to see you with another guy
But the fact is that I may
That's what all the friends I do not like as much as you say
- The Vaccines
(Because I haven't updated in like three months...) Previously:
Sakura is a waitress for upper-class, socialite events in order to pay for a medicine degree. She encounters Sasuke who makes a secret bet with his best friend, Naruto, to make our heroine fall in love with him before New Year Eve's (about four months away in this story). However, a love triangle emerges in the embodiment of Gaara, who is a photographer and part-time chef. Sakura agreed to model for him to help him with his project. In the last chapter, Sasuke came over to Sakura's apartment, drunk and looking for a place to crash. She lets him in and they play a drinking game, in which Sakura learns that Sasuke has troubles with his father and his brother and eventually, this brings them closer... before they both pass out on her sofa.
Sakura's eyes slowly flitted open, squinting at the harsh light which filtered through her windows, her head pounding for reasons currently unknown. She groaned as she rolled over, thinking that she had more space on her bed, but when her body failed to meet the soft, welcoming feel of a mattress, and landed on rock hard wood panelling floors, she groaned loudly, feeling the bruising that would inevitably pop up all over her sensitive body.
She writhed on the floor, her eyes finally adjusting to her surroundings. A thin blanket was tangled around her limbs as she realised that she was suddenly far from her bedroom. Instead, she was lying on the floor of her living room, just metres from where she had fallen off her sofa.
Her eyes popped open, as she heard the shower running in the background, the sound of water hitting tiles invading her ears. When the water suddenly stopped and she heard a body open the shower door and step onto the bathroom floor, Sakura's breathing stopped, a fearful whimper building in her throat.
The first thoughts which eventually registered in her mind was that she was going to die at the hands of a murderer who had broken into her apartment whilst she had been mysteriously asleep on her sofa. Her theory didn't explain how she had gotten from her bed to the sofa in the first place, or why this murderer was using her shower, but her fear of her untimely death was slightly more important than dwelling on the insignificant details.
Whilst she had been absorbed in her terrifying thoughts, she hadn't even heard the soft tapping of bare feet on her laminated floors. It stopped in the threshold to her living room and she heard the light, velvety chuckle which made her insides instantaneously freeze over.
She took a cautious glance behind her, and her eyes widened even further as she took in the sight before her. Unfortunately for Sakura, she was still unceremoniously sprawled out on her floor. But when she had looked up, her eyes had been graced with a vision she had never hoped to see until she was married.
The body of a male was standing before her, clad only in a loose towel slung low around his hips and a wet glaze to his chest. His stomach donned a prominent six-pack and his biceps were well-endowed and masculine as a lazy arm leant against her door frame. She moved her eyes slowly to meet his face but spluttered in disbelief as the fresh face of Sasuke Uchiha stood smirking down at her, his wet hair mussed, yet still impossibly sexy, light tendrils dripping small water droplets down his cheeks.
She couldn't help but to gape at his half-naked form, whether because she was flustered like crazy or because of the impossibility that the Uchiha was in her apartment when she had just woken up. The implications behind this raced through her mind and only made her blush deepen, almost scorching her skin like acid burns.
Her memories of anything before the morning events were hazy and she certainly didn't remember anything of the night before. The pounding in her head and the nausea building in her stomach threatened to tip her over the edge and to just vomit all over her living room floor. Sasuke saw her sickly and confused expression, and couldn't help but to laugh internally.
"Don't you remember anything?" he asked with a smug little grin on his face.
His rumbling voice made Sakura grimace as his sentence sent vibrations through her skull which didn't bode well with her persistent headache.
"Too loud," she grumbled as she clambered back onto her sofa to bury her head back into the arm rest, attempting to block out her unfortunate reality.
Taking that as a negative, he paced over to her, grabbing a box of ibuprofen and a glass of water from her kitchen. He sat on the end of the sofa by her feet and pulled down the blanket which she was attempting to cover her face with.
"Here," he offered, thrusting the medicine and the water into her hands as he helped her sit up. She obliged without a word, willing this headache away so much that she didn't even care at the present moment why Sasuke was here and showering in her apartment.
She placed the now empty glass back onto a table by the couch, noticing absentmindedly the empty vodka bottle there as well.
"Did you use my shampoo?" she asked sceptically as she caught a whiff of wild peach which was normally only accustomed to her own locks.
He hummed as if to say yes. "A bit too feminine for my tastes though," he stated, scrunching his nose in distaste.
She chuckled lightly, but then suddenly remembered the state of undress which Sasuke was in and her furious blush attacked her cheeks once again, realising his current proximity to her body.
Sasuke, noticing this, leaned in even closer to her, reaching his hand above her head to rest next to it on the sofa's armrest.
She tried to divert her prying gaze elsewhere, but when she saw the muscles in his arms flexing so enticingly, she just couldn't rip her eyes away.
"Like what you see?" he asked, smirking down at her body, which was closing in on itself more and more, as if trying to disappear through her sofa.
However, at this question, she suddenly had a jolt of déjà vu, as she remembered everything from the night before.
"Like what you see?"
"So my house is now a refuge for a fugitive hoping to get away from his best friend and six strippers?"
"Want to play a game?"
"What is your ultimate guilty pleasure?"
"Bottoms up."
"What do you fear most in the whole world?"
"My dad will realise that Itachi's power is thrice as influential as mine, even as heir to his business. And then before you know it, I'll be out of my dad's good books and pushed aside like garbage."
The events hit her present memory like lightning bolts, shocking her enough for her back to straighten up and to push Sasuke off of her. Her hand instinctively went up to her head, cradling her forehead as she groaned to herself at the memory of just how much she had to drink in that stupid game which Sasuke had proposed to play after crashing at her apartment.
"Oh my god," she groaned, cradling her legs and rocking back and forth as she thought about what kind of insane cognitive state she must have been in yesterday to let an Uchiha into her house and to play idiotic drinking games with him.
"You finally remembered?" Sasuke asked with a suspiciously smug tone.
The implications told Sakura something was deadly wrong and she wracked her brains for why his voice was so arrogant, like he knew something she didn't.
Suddenly, her memory propelled her to the embarrassing moment when she had actually comforted Sasuke by... holding his hand. She cringed at the thought but nevertheless, when she spotted the little cocky smirk on Sasuke's lips, she glared at him icily, as if blaming him for all of her misfortune.
"P-Put a goddamn shirt on, Uchiha," she said coldly, after she couldn't think of a better insult to throw at him, just so she could knock that grin off his face. She threw the blanket off of her and stormed off to have a shower.
As Sasuke heard the bathroom door slam shut, he chuckled to himself, finding it amusing how easily he could unnerve Sakura. However, his thoughts were cut short as he heard his mobile sound out a generic ring tone.
Searching for his mobile and finally finding it wedged between the folds of Sakura's sofa (how it got there was beyond him), he coolly answered.
"Hello?"
"Yoo, Sasuke!" Naruto's voice rang out, almost deafening the Uchiha.
"Naruto," Sasuke replied, his tone suddenly detached. He was never pleased to hear Naruto's voice when he was either hanging or when it was the morning – at the moment, it was both, which made the blonde's phone call even more dreadful.
"I just wanted to remind you of our little bet," he chimed with a little snug tone; Sasuke could just imagine that inkling of an evil smirk on Naruto's usually friendly face.
But Sasuke was turned silent as that little word suddenly woke him from whatever reverie he had been in – bet.
This was the bet where he had to make Sakura Haruno fall in love with him before New Year's Eve otherwise he would have to give her up completely – the bet which he had completely forgotten about...
"Sasuke...? Sasuke, you still there?" he heard Naruto ask worriedly. Sasuke jolted from his daydream with a startle, before acknowledging that he was listening with a low grunt. "Soo... how's it going?" Naruto pried.
"Fucking fine," he lied through gritted teeth, clenching the mobile in his hand so tight that his knuckles were turning a deathly white.
"So you're on track to getting Saku to falling head over heels in love with you?" Naruto mockingly swooned but chuckled darkly at the end.
Sasuke's stomach involuntarily twisted at that, but he kept a straight poker face and squeezed out a meek "Yes".
"Good," Naruto replied bluntly, his whole immature tone clicking instantly. "That's all I really wanted to call for. So... see you later." With that, Naruto ended the call with a soft tap and the line was dead.
Sasuke sighed as he rested back into Sakura's sofa, uncaring that he still only had a towel wrapped around his lower region. He sifted a shaking hand through his damp hair before resolutely pushing himself up and getting dressed into yesterday's clothes. Forgetting about the bet would only result in tangled up feelings which Sasuke was sure he was incapable of. Yet, if he was so sure of his ice cold heart, why did he feel the sudden panic which had gradually started to consume him?
.&.
Sakura had just washed the last of the bubbles out of her hair and was just about to step out the shower whilst reaching for her towel. She felt so much fresher now that she had showered and her headache and nausea had calmed down to only a dull throb which she could easily ignore.
However, as she was wiping herself dry, she heard the front door click open and a few instances later, it slammed shut again, the force vibrating all of the thin walls of her apartment.
She instantly froze, her hair dripping with water and splashing onto the tiles rhythmically like a ticking clock. "Sasuke?" she shouted out uncertainly. With no reply, she secured her towel around her body, unlocked the door and poked her head around the corner cautiously. "Sasuke?" she shouted again, but to no avail. Judging by a lack of response, she had guessed that he had left without any warning and so she fully stepped out of her bathroom.
Approaching the living room clutching her towel to her body, she saw a small fluorescent sticky note which was taped to her coffee table and she scoffed as she bent over to pick it up.
Family business.
Call you later. S.
Sakura brows instantly furrowed, sensing that something wasn't quite right with this picture. People only played the 'family' card when they couldn't find any other excuse. By the looks of it, Sasuke couldn't run away fast enough. He even abbreviated his name into a one-letter initial!
Scoffing and trying hard not to give a shit, she crumpled the note in one firm palm before throwing it from across the room straight into a trashcan.
.&.
It had been a few days since Sakura had last spoken to Sasuke. She had tried not to count the excruciating hours but it had all added up to 110. And even though Sasuke hadn't cared to call, Gaara had... about a million times. Sakura had dropped by his apartment so many times in the last week that she was practically living there. He always called to see if she was free so he could shoot some more photos of her in different contexts or different outfits, and the ever-kind Sakura just couldn't say no.
"Hey, you don't think we could take a little breather, could we?" Sakura asked as her body sagged from holding it in the same pose for the last hour or so. She was currently stood dressed head to toe in white in front of a blank screen; the only thing that stood out was her eccentric pink hair. To be completely honest, she didn't get the whole artsy contrast, but if Gaara instructed her to pose, she tried her best to please without questions asked.
Gaara hummed in approval before placing down his camera on a coffee table and going over to his open kitchen unit. "Drink?" he asked simply, opening up his fridge before she had replied and throwing her a bottle of Vitamin Water. She caught it easily, thanking him before taking a deep swallow of the drink. Taking a seat by the kitchen island, she whimsically spun around in the high stool, humming the same tune repeatedly under her breath.
"You know, Sakura," Gaara started, breaking Sakura out of her daydream, "You've gotten really good at modelling. You don't even need Nirvana on anymore to relax you. You're practically a pro already."
Sakura blushed before waving her hand dismissively at his charming compliments. "Ever the sweet-talker, Gaara," she joked.
"I'm not kidding, Sakura. You could seriously become a model, and not some muse for a shitty photographer."
"Oh, come on! Don't be so hard on yourself, you're great!"
He attempted a half smile but it turned out as a sad, forlorn grimace as he swept a hand through his messy, red hair. "I'm not even breaking-even with these photos. And even though you put up with my shit all the time, you don't even get paid for it."
"I'm not doing this for the money, Gaara," she stated, feeling a little offended that he may have thought she was.
"I'm not saying you are," he quickly defended, which seemed to relieve Sakura slightly. "But your talent really should be put to better use. The whole world should be able to see and acknowledge your beauty."
Really, if she blushed anymore, Sakura was sure that her cheeks would be able to cook an egg on them.
As if he had a self-induced epiphany, Gaara suddenly tensed up and stood up straighter. In a 'eureka' sort of moment, he seemed to have formulated a plan, although a plan for what, Sakura wasn't quite sure and she was uneasy when his jade eyes lit up as if a light bulb had gone off in his brain.
Slowly, he walked over to where she was currently sat whilst reciting with a sort of boyish excitement, "I've got it. The funding for this project and the way to finally let the whole of Japan see how cute you really are..." At the word 'cute' he pinched one of her cheeks like a doting relative, as she looked up at him with innocent, doe eyes, still unsure as to where he was going with all of this. "Sometimes, I work with professional fashion models to shoot some photos for reputable magazines. One of my top employers is ViVi magazine. You ever heard of it?"
ViVi... No she hadn't. After all, she practically lived in a cave. She shook her head lightly, eager to learn from Gaara, who she now felt obliged to call 'Sensei'...
"ViVi is a monthly magazine which is published in Japan, China, Taiwan and Thailand. I mean, boy, this publication is huge right now amongst young females! The frequent ViVi models are gorgeous and they pose in all the latest clothes in a variety of everyday contexts. They're approachable, realistic young girls, like yourself. And you'll be the perfect next ViVi model to debut. So what do you say?"
She felt a bit gobsmacked after she had taken all that in, her eyes now wide, circular sockets of pure... speechlessness. "W-Well... I say it sounds as if commercialism has really gotten the better of you..." she replied honestly, as she gave out a little nervous laugh. "I don't really want to sell clothes for a living, Gaara!"
No matter what she said, he seemed to still have his bright grin fixed in place. "Oh, come on, Sakura! It's tons of fun on the shoots and you'll fit right in!"
"I want to become a doctor, not an airhead model! I want to help people and cure terminal illnesses!"
"I promise it won't take up all your time. You only have to attend a few photo shoots, maybe a few launch parties and press conferences, but no biggie... I'll be able to help you and become your unofficial manager, or something. And plus, if you do this, my project will finally be able to be acknowledged... 'cause, you know, if a Vivi model is featured in my exhibition, it'll get the attention I need to really launch myself in this photography career."
His proposal did have a sort of appeal, unless it was just the way he was selling it which seemed to be so persuasive. But either way, she couldn't deny that a life as a model really did seem to have a glamorous twist to it.
"Look, come over here for a sec'," he said, ushering her over to his lounge, where on the coffee table was a whole stack of various magazines. He pulled one out from the bottom of his pile, indifferent to the way the stack just toppled over like a game of Jenga, spilling all over his fur rug. "You see this," he asked, pointing to the paper publication, "This is ViVi from last month. Cool, huh?"
She gripped the magazine in her hands, intrigued by the front cover. It was just like every other magazine she happened to see, the bright masthead in the top left corner with three gorgeous, Japanese models on the front, looking as if they were having the time of their lives. As she was flicking through, she was mildly surprised to see that it did look like a fine magazine, with pages upon pages of photos of beautiful girls. And what pleased Sakura even more was to see mixed-race models, like her, featured frequently.
"It is rather impressive," she stated tentatively.
"So, what do you say?" he asked with his eager bright eyes back again.
Licking her lips in contemplation, she carefully calculated the drawbacks and the advantages. But Gaara's impatient, repetitive remarks of "Come on, Sakura!" and "You know you want to!" put her on the spot , and before she could stop herself, her tongue moved on its own accord.
"Alright!" she burst out, silencing the whole apartment for a few seconds. It felt like all the traffic and shuffling feet outside just suddenly halted; the whole world stopped spinning, as Sakura's fate had just been sealed.
Gaara's eyes widened a fraction, surprised that she had accepted. Suddenly, he threw her a large grin, chuckling deeply as he picked her to spin her around until she felt nauseous. As he put her down onto the welcoming ground, he kept his hands lingering on her waist, obviously more for practical reasons than for anything as he was worried that she would be too dizzy to stand on her own.
"Then it's settled. Congratulations on your new job."
Sakura swallowed hard when her reality hit her right between the eyes. What happened to her non-complicated, normal student life? As boring as that other life was, she really wished she could have it back again...
First off, I really want to apologize for the lack of updates. I'm seriously stressing out at the moment and I honestly doubt you'll get another update till summer time after all my exams. Make sure to get story alerts to keep track of when I do get round to update ;)
Soooo, I'm reallyyyyyy grateful if you're still reading this story, even though you've probably forgotten what it's about (hence the cliche 'previously' at the beginning), and also thanks for any new readers who have come to read my story. Love you all!
Secondly, ViVi Magazine is real! And the models are all gorgeous! I normally go to HK and buy the Chinese version, but it did come from Japan originally. Seriously, it's THE BEST MAGAZINE EVER! Google it or something, but I really liked the idea of Sakura becoming a ViVi model - makes me kinda' jealous...
Thirdly, I've not been keeping up to date with Gossip Girl too much at the moment, but I'm at a point where I'm just like, OMG, how crazy is this? Because GG seems to have 'stole' a lot of my ideas in this story, lol. The whole waitress and the rich socialite? Who would have thought? But seriously, I didn't copy, they didn't copy, and so it was just a happy coincidence!
And for those of you who have read my other footnotes and realised it's all just random shit about my life, I MAY BE GOING TO PARIS THIS SUMMER! Eekkkk! Gonna' eat macaroons all day and stroll down the Champs-Élyséess and practice my french, whooooo! And the best part: I don't even have to worry about school and exams! Ooh la la, j'aime beaucoup Paris!