Author's Notes: Thanks so much to everyone who read, alerted and reviewed the prologue! I'm really stoked about it!

Aesyl: I think a lot of the music I'm going to use in this story will be stuff most people have never thought to connect to HiME/Otome. I don't really mind though. It works in my head. Haha. I've never heard of Singularity, but I'll definitely check it out. If you have anymore music recs, just hollar my way. :)

Literal Metaphor: Haha, I was glad to see someone trying to figure out just who's doing what. I'll just say you got 1 1/2 out of 6 right. It's okay though. Nao as "cracked out vocalist" made me laugh though because honestly, what other kind of vocalist could she possibly be? You'll find out who's playing what in this chapter. Hope you enjoy it.

Krugern: That was just the tip of the iceberg. I have a lot more familiar faces to bring into the fold before this is all said and done. :)

Like I said, thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review. I hope you all stick with me throughout this journey.

I have some other notes before we go on.

I mentioned in the last chapter that this story will contain drug use. The first direct mentions of such are in this chapter. If it makes you uncomfortable to see or read about any of the HiME/Otome characters (Natsuki, in particular) participating in such activities, please don't read further. This story will have some incredibly dark pieces later on, so it would be best to quit while you're ahead. Also, if you're upset about the fact that I have Natsuki doing drugs (among other things) in this story, I'd rather you send me a PM, and we'll talk about it.

Also, I've been told I get rather... wordy when I write. This chapter may feel a bit (or a lot) clunky and heavy in places, and for that I apologize. The next chapter will have much more dialogue. I'm also a fan of not having too much exposition right at the beginning. Just pay attention to the chapter, and you'll start to glean things about what's going on and just exactly who is doing what. By the end of the next chapter, I should have all the basics laid out fairly clearly.

Oh and I don't have a beta. I've proofread this multiple times over multiple days, but there could still be some mistakes. I apologize in advance.

Disclaimer:I don't own HiME/Otome or any of the related characters. Sunrise does.

Chapter Song: "I Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor" by the Arctic Monkeys.

Soundtrack for Our Movie
Chapter 1
I Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor

This wouldn't be so painful if I could've scored back at the hotel.

Kuga Natsuki scowled, muttering under her breath as her fingers toyed with the rim of her shot glass. If there was any place she did not want to be right now, it was at this party. The lights didn't bother her. The excessive volume of some European band screaming through the speakers didn't bother her. Hell, even Nao's presence wasn't grating on her nerves at the moment. It was the insane amount of people in this room that made Natsuki's skin crawl, especially when she considered most of them wanted to yap her ears off and snap an ungodly amount of photos for some gossip rag or other. She hated the press. Loathed them. Wouldn't mind if they all found their way off a very steep cliff into a bottomless ocean trench.

It sincerely irked the musician that her talent alone wasn't enough to make her successful. In this world, the only way a band could succeed was if their image was marketable. Who gave a damn about the music? As long as Talentless Hack A was still banging Blonde Celebutante B then the masses didn't seem to notice that A's music sounded like dying giraffes accompanied by nails on a chalkboard. All Natsuki wanted to do was record in a studio and play her heart out on-stage. She wanted the parts of the industry that allowed for catharsis and adrenaline rushes. Unfortunately she couldn't get those without the mind-numbing grey area of celebrity.

From what she could tell, however, three-fourths of the known world couldn't live without its daily fix of watching outrageous people do mundane things. Since the beginning of this whole venture, Natsuki had vehemently avoided the press at all costs. She didn't want the spotlight. She didn't want idiotic fans trying to tackle her at the supermarket. It was inconvenient enough that she'd had to switch dealers at least four times before she found one who was safe enough to not sell her out to the highest bidding magazine. Now she couldn't even buy a jar of mayonnaise in peace.

Still, no matter how hard she tried to impress upon the press that she hated them, it seemed they couldn't get enough of her. It was baffling. She never answered questions. She never smiled. She never signed autographs unless forced (by a rather stubborn combination of bandmate and manager) to do so. She was as rough and uncouth in front of the cameras as she was behind them, and perhaps she even dialed up the unfriendly factor a few notches. In the end, however, each growl, glare, snarl and flipped bird only garnered her more adoration and attention. She just couldn't understand. It was infuriating.

"I don't know what that vodka ever did to you, but if you squeeze any tighter it looks like I'll be trying to keep a hospital visit out of the papers in the morning."

Drawn out of her increasingly negative thoughts – not that she frequently had many positive thoughts in environments like this – Natsuki turned her head to look at her visitor. "I thought spin and covert ops are what you do best," she replied dryly. She did, however, loosen her grip on the shot glass.

Chie offered an easy, lopsided grin in Natsuki's direction. The older woman flicked dark bangs out of her eyes as she spoke. "What kind of publicist would I be if they weren't, Kuga?"

Natsuki growled.

"Oh please. You don't scare me," Chie retorted. "This is a party. Quit looking like you're about to commit mass murder and lighten up. The tour is over. After this you get a year off to hermit yourself away and write your little black heart out. I can't have the last pictures taken of my girls being you making members of the press cry."

"Easy for you to say," Natsuki answered. "As soon as I joined this madhouse it's like the concept of personal space just flew out the window."

"Why are you complaining, Kuuuuga?" Chie drawled as she glanced around the room. "Have you seen some of the women here? They can take away as much of my personal space as they want. As a matter of fact, I'll give it to them myself."

Despite herself, Natsuki chuckled. "You're just a sucker for an accent and a nice pair of legs. These girls could have bags over their heads, and you'd still fall all over them."

The handsome press agent smirked, shrugging broad shoulders casually as she rubbed a hand on the back of her neck. "What can I say? You've got to admit these French girls know how to talk. They could be reciting the recipe for an omelet, and I'd get hot."

"Y'know, Harada, since you're our publicist and all, shouldn't you be out publicizing?" Natsuki asked. "Like making sure they all understand that for the next year I am completely off-limits, or so help me god someone will wind up with his teeth down his throat."

Dark eyes rolled behind stylish, black-rimmed glasses. "You don't have the slightest bit of sympathy for my job do you? If you weren't such a damn gold mine, I might get up the nerve to knock you around a bit as payback one of these days."

"Right," Natsuki answered skeptically, finally taking mercy on the rapidly warming shot of vodka and tipping it down her throat. She was silent for a few moments before she looked back at Chie. "Hey, Harada. I hear a dainty little poodle yipping your name. Why don't you go take care of her?"

Chie's hands lifted into the air, a sign of submission. "All right, all right. I can see when I've overstayed my welcome here at Chez Kuga. Seriously, though, don't do anything stupid tonight and at least stay for another two hours. Hang in as long as Yukino does. If you just up and leave on your own, no doubt your fanclub will try to follow you, and the rest of the girls will be completely forgotten."

Natsuki's lips pressed together in a tight line, the muscle of her jaw twitching. She didn't want to stay here for another five minutes, much less another two hours. Still Chie had a point, which was good seeing as that's why they paid her. As much as Natsuki hated this scene, she hated seeing her bandmates (Mai, in particular) upset even more. Finally, she nodded in reluctant agreement.

"The things I do for that Tokiha, I swear."

Chie patted her on the shoulder, and Natsuki stiffened. "Glad you agree with me. Now I think I'll go see about that lovely poodle you mentioned."

As soon as Chie left, Natsuki's stance softened. Her shoulders drooped, and she felt her calves relax. This is not to say that the guitarist looked extremely approachable. Despite her somewhat lax stance, she still radiated an "approach me and you might go home missing a limb" energy. One hand pushed her empty shot glass forward on the bar, silently requesting another.

While she waited for the busy attendant to see about her drink, Natsuki pivoted on her stool, turning to face the expanse of the room. Were this under any other set of circumstances, Natsuki could actually see herself having a good time. It was a spacious room with an industrial décor. This had no doubt been a factory at one time, and many of the walls had remained as they had been, exposed brick and corrugated steel adding a touch of grit to the mix. A vast dance floor took up the majority of the space, but it was packed to the edges. Colored lights moved around the room, and the occasional strobe flash sent the dancing crowd into frenzy. The far side of the room found some couches and a few mini-bars and dim lighting. The press had all gathered there, as it seemed to be a much easier place to converse with the rather surprising number of celebrities present.

It was as emerald-colored eyes scanned this part of the room that Natsuki found Mai. The group's resident leading vocalist was chatting away with a crew from MTV France. As usual, Mikoto was – for all intents and purposes – attached to the busty redhead. Natsuki watched with some form of mild amusement as the young drummer took every small opportunity to quickly and covertly run her fingers across Mai's exposed back. No doubt the redhead was completely oblivious. That seemed to be the state of mind in which Mai perpetually lived, especially when it came to her young friend and her feelings. Not for the first time, Natsuki marveled at how the press standing less than a foot away seemed utterly clueless to Minagi Mikoto's blatant affections for Tokiha Mai, but she supposed they would only catch on when Mai herself did, and there was no telling just how long that would take.

People watching had always been a guilty pleasure for Natsuki. Since she herself was so unnerved by people's eyes on her, it only seemed logical she would enjoy turning the tables so to speak. Even if she pegged someone entirely wrong – which was the case 98.9 percent of the time – she still enjoyed fabricating elaborate stories of just how fucked up the people around her were.

Speaking of fucked up people, Natsuki mused silently. She had moved her attention from Mai and Mikoto to the edge of the dance floor and one of the mini-bars there. Nao had commanded a small crowd of followers, all of whom were laughing amongst themselves while Nao wrangled a petite brunette into a loose headlock. From the looks of things, the redhead was trying to goad Yukino into relaxing a bit with a drink or seven. Despite the somewhat rough treatment, Yukino was smiling in that diffident way of hers, nudging Nao to break loose before she finally accepted the drink. Natsuki wouldn't be surprised if Yukino still hadn't finished that same drink by the time they all left.

Yuuki Nao and Kikukawa Yukino, the band's bassist and keyboardist respectively, couldn't be more opposite than any two people on the face of the planet; yet there was something in that opposition that drew the two young women together. They were the oddest sort of friends Natsuki had encountered, but she thanked god there was someone Nao listened to because otherwise the guitarist was sure she'd have strangled the redhead a long time ago.

Natsuki watched Nao and Yukino for another moment or two before turning back to the bar. She found a nicely refilled shot waiting for her and curled her fingers around the cool glass. If I can't get high tonight, I'll just have to settle for the next best thing. The dark-haired young woman easily kicked back the vodka, eyes sliding shut as the alcohol offered a pleasant burn on its path down her throat.

Natsuki was drunk. Objectively she had to be drunk. Personally she didn't know nor did she give a damn, but objectively she just had to be. No the guitarist wasn't slurring her words, and she wasn't having problems standing upright. She was, however, in the middle of the dance floor with a large amount of sweaty bodies encroaching upon her personal space. The kicker to all this was Natsuki didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, one could almost venture that she was enjoying herself. There had to be some level of intoxication (more specifically three shots of vodka followed rapidly by a double shot of tequila) at play here.

"We're going to go get Mikoto some water!"

Emerald eyes opened, taking a moment to come into focus on the flushed pair in front of her. Natsuki nodded at Mai and waved them off. The redhead arched a brow and looked at her friend skeptically for a second.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"I'm fine!"

Mai just stared.

"Look, I don't even have the urge to elbow anyone in the gut," Natsuki answered with a roll of her eyes. "Now go on. I'm sure if I have problems you'll notice."

Mai held her eyes on Natsuki still but was finally drawn away by Mikoto's hands on her arm and head on her shoulder. The redhead let herself be led away, and Natsuki was left alone to the masses. If anyone noticed they had one of the guests of honor in their midst, they weren't letting on.

The guitarist let herself get lost in the music, eyes closing and body moving along with the frantic melody. Occasionally someone would jostle into her, but Natsuki would simply gather her wits, flip the offender the bird and continue on her drunken dancing way.

After an indeterminate amount of time had passed, Natsuki felt some of her buzz fuzzing around the edges. Something was tugging at the back of her mind for her attention. She swatted it away at first, wanting to hold onto the last vestiges of her intoxication as long as possible. Still the feeling wouldn't go away. It only seemed to get more insistent.

She finally relented and cracked one eye open. The other followed suit shortly thereafter when she discovered that another set of eyes was steadfastly fixed on her. Her body slowly found its way to a stationary position as her bleary vision sharpened. It was a woman, and she was indeed watching Natsuki from over the shoulder a dark-haired man. That feeling in the back of her mind had migrated to the back of her throat, and Natsuki could feel heat flaming down her neck and across her shoulders. This woman wasn't looking at the guitarist with the eyes of an adoring fan, nor was she looking at the guitarist with the eyes of the curious paparazzi. Her eyes wanted Natsuki. Wanted her. Traced over every inch of the brunette's body as she continued to dance on her partner.

Under normal circumstances Natsuki would have found all this extremely unnerving. She hated people staring at her. The guitarist fidgeted in place, still meeting the extremely intense gaze some five feet away from her.

Wake up, Kuga! Stop standing there looking like an idiot!

Natsuki blinked and scowled at her conscience. She was right. She couldn't just stand there looking like a fish out of water, no matter how out-of-sorts she was feeling. So she finally resumed her dancing, but green eyes were still locked with those of her admirer. Natsuki wasn't sure why she held the woman's stare, but she did know she didn't want her to stop looking. It was an odd feeling, and later Natsuki would no doubt chalk it up to alcohol.

From what she could make out in this lighting madhouse, the woman was tall. Brown hair, maybe? Natsuki couldn't tell if she was French or not. She didn't look entirely European. She had one long arm laid casually across the shoulders of the completely oblivious man she was with, but Natsuki couldn't see his face – not that she really wanted to.

She watched with some measure of satisfaction as her new friend's eyes fluttered under Natsuki's focused attention. The woman's mouth had curved into a lazy, wide smile, and Natsuki swallowed. Her blood temperature was steadily rising, and she could hear it rush past her ears more easily than she could hear the music. Natsuki took a step forward, unconsciously moving closer to her target. If her eyes were working properly, the woman seemed to appreciate the gesture and raised an eyebrow in silent challenge. Natsuki smirked. Hell she had already come this far. Why not take those last few steps and see what happens?

One step. Two steps. All the while holding that stare that seemed to know exactly how to set Natsuki's body on fire. Another step. She was so close now. She could feel the heat radiating off the pair. It was then that she really seemed to notice her one problem. There was a rather imposing man standing between her and her prize. Natsuki stopped dancing and craned her neck to look up at the back of his head, finally breaking the eye contact she'd been holding for at least seven or eight minutes. Brows drew together, and she frowned.

A giggle drew her attention from the man back to the woman, and Natsuki's frown only deepened when she saw long elegant fingers stifling the mirth escaping her target's lips. This didn't seem to do anything but encourage the woman to giggle even more. Natsuki felt the blush creep from her neck up to her face and glared. Dammit.

She looked back at the smiling woman and opened her mouth to speak when fingers closed around her arm and yanked her unceremoniously away. Her target was lost. Natsuki wanted to scream. And hit something. Repeatedly. As she was pulled off the dancefloor and onto more spacious territory, she wrenched her arm free.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she shouted angrily.

"Whoa there, pup. You get all worked up like that, and you'll bust something in your brain," Nao answered dryly.

"I think busting something in your face sounds like a much better option."

"Touchy, touchy," Nao didn't seem fazed in the least by the threat. "It's time for us to bow out."

"What? Really? Now?"

Natsuki turned to look over her shoulder where she could see Mai, Mikoto, Yukino, Youko and Midori with security at the door. Well, Mai, Mikoto, Yukino and Youko were standing with security. Midori was draped over Youko's back and no doubt on the verge of unconsciousness.

"Yes, now," Nao answered.

The redhead put her hand on Natsuki's back and pushed her toward the door. Natsuki reached back and shoved Nao's hand away but kept moving. Nao only chuckled. A few moments later and the pair joined their comrades. One of the bouncers pushed the doors open, and Natsuki felt a refreshing blast of cold air hit her. The lot of them walked out into the early morning blackness toward the bus.

"Oh, and just so you know, pup," Nao called out as she moved past Natsuki to join Yukino at the head of the group. "Next time you want to eye-fuck someone on the dance floor, make sure you pick a girl who doesn't already have a 6-foot slab of meat between her legs."

Natsuki blinked, then snarled at Nao. The redhead only laughed in response and trotted away. The guitarist continued to scowl at her back before dropping her eyes to the ground before anyone could see the embarrassed blush creeping onto her face.