Whoot whoot!! 25 reviews 0 That is great guys, keep them coming!! And yay! We're up to chapter five already. I received many messages about Ren and his cowardly-ness. And now... we shall see... *turns around with raised eyebrow stroking imaginary beard*
This is for whydoyouwanttoknowmyname, who I am officially now writing for! Thank you for your review!!
BTW, yes, I know this one took longer than a week (one week and a day, exactly). I was busy. I'll try harder this week!
Disclaimer: Skip Beat, alas, was never mine. But it will be, when I become rich and buy the royalties to it... Also, I must add that the Scarlett Pimpernel is also, sadly, not mine.
CHAPTER FIVE!!
Ren slumped against his dressing room door. He felt drained. Exhausted. He barely remembered his rapid stumble from the set to his room. Kyoko. Beautiful and tempting.
He sighed. He should feel glad that she was so pretty, graceful, so right for her part. But he'd always seen her like that, it was just no one else did. When he first saw her step out of the shadows, he'd thought he was hallucinating. He'd recognised her immediately. Her hair was black again, but curled, not straight as it had been when they were younger. The emotions he felt as he stared enraptured were difficult to isolate. There was pride, of course, to see her looking so gorgeous. And lust. And hopelessness. And joy, for her. Then came jealousy, as everyone crowded around her, and anger. And finally self disgust. She was just turned seventeen. And he was her sempai. He had no claim to her, whatsoever.
Still, as Ren sat on the floor, back resting against the door, behind his closed eyes her image stayed. Radiant was the word. Everyone had been stunned. He felt another flash of pride, for how beautiful his girl was. But she wasn't his. This project was going to be frustrating. He already knew he wasn't going to care for any of the other young, male actors who would play his subordinates. Well, maybe not, only if they showed a more than friendly interest in Kyoko. He'd send them away screaming.
He sighed again, this time a more controlled breath out. Time to get himself together. He fixed the character of Tsuruga Ren in his mind; gentlemanly and conscientious. Slipping into the kind Ren, rather than being the selfish Kuon, was as easy as breathing. It used to be that he was always Ren; Kuon existed in him as a separate identity. Ren became his real self, like the transformation from boy to man. With the return of Kyoko into his life, his two selves had started to blend into each other; Kuon became more gentle and Ren more temperamental. He stood and checked his appearance in the mirror, wiping away a thin film or sweat from his forehead. Calm eyes that had captivated moviegoers stared back at him, revealing nothing. Eyes were supposed to be the window to the soul. Maybe he didn't have a soul.
Ren strode out of the room, down the deserted corridor and out into the main room. Kyoko was now standing with the Director and Yashiro, still flushed with a small smile on her face. The other members of cast and crew were sneaking covert glances at her. He made his way over to them, dressed in a fancy cream suit with a high waist and tall leather boots. It was apparently the latest fashion. Three hundred years ago. He would have felt self-conscious in such attire, except he had long ago schooled himself not to think about what everyone else must have thought. Plus, he was surrounded by professionals who appreciated the effort and technique that went into creating such elaborate costumes.
It also helped that Kyoko was staring at him with approval.
Ren came to rest beside them, smiling politely at Kyoko.
"You look lovely in your dress, Kyoko." He said, totally ignoring the sanctimonious looks on both the Director and Yashiro's faces.
She blushed and smoothed the front of said dress, beaming happily. "Thank you, Ren. It's so pretty isn't it? I- I like your costume too..."
Kyoko demons withered under a blinding assault from Ren's 2000 watt grin. Kyoko's own smile, it appeared, had faded by the time she uncovered her eyes.
"Tsuruga-san? Are you angry at me?"
Ren felt slightly put out at the formal mention of his name. Ah well, habits were hard to break. "No. Why would I be?"
"Well, when I came in you walked off... So I thought that I must have... done something. " She finished.
Ren was slightly stunned.
"That's not it, Kyoko, I just had to fix something on this jacket." he lied. There was nothing wrong with his jacket, apart from its weird style. Even if there was, he wouldn't know how to fix it. In fact, he'd probably have to ask Kyoko to do it.
"Oh!" Kyoko smiled. She believed him. "Well, that's great! But... is it fixed now?"
"Ah, yeah, don't worry about it..."
Kyoko smiled again, and talk changed to various mundane details while the crew finished setting up the props. Finally, it was time to test their skills, and Ren and Kyoko separated to get into position for their act. There were a number of other actors and actresses on set already; Mayui as Suzanne looking pretty in a simple white dress. There was also a medium height man with brown-blond hair called Takashi Jun, playing Ren's character's right hand man, Sir Andrew Ffoulkes. There were some other members of the cast present also, playing minor characters such as Lord Anthony Dewhurst and Suzanne's mother and brother, the Comtesse de Tournay and Vicomte. They were sitting around a fire place, acting out their respective parts. It was almost time for Kyoko's entrance.
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Kyoko steadied herself as she waited for her cue.
"Safe at last!" stated Sir Andrew Ffoulkes. "How good it is to be back in England!"
"Indeed, however my husband remains in France and in great danger. I will not feel secure until he is here. " The Comtesse said soberly.
"Never fear. The Scarlet Pimpernel himself has pledged to save your husband, madam. He will bring him safely across the Channel as we did with you." That was Lord Antony.
Suzanne lent forward.
"We are very grateful to you both." She said, looking across to Sir Andrew, "I trust you absolutely!"
Sir Andrew Ffoulkes laughed.
"You shame me, mademoiselle. I am but a tool in the hands of our great leader, who organised and effected your escape. No," he forestalled a question, "You cannot meet him. He works only in the dark and is known by only those in our circle. One to command, twenty to obey."
"But the Scarlet Pimpernel, what a droll name!" exclaimed the Vicomte, "I have heard of it, it is a small English flower, no? They say that every time an aristocrat is rescued from the guillotine, the Revolutionist's governing circle receives a paper with that flower on it."
"That is so." Assented Lord Antony.
"It is so good that you English men are so brave, yet in France treachery is rife. Take that woman, Marguerite Saint-Just, for instance. " sighed the Comtesse bitterly, "Denounced the Marquis Saint-Cyr and all his family to the tribunal. The whole family; dead to the guillotine and the glorious revolution."
"Marguerite Saint-Just?"asked Sir Andrew, shooting a quick look to Lord Antony, "Surely not..."
"Yes!" cried the Comtesse, "Do you know her? She married an Englishman not long ago."
"Know her? Know Lady Blakeney, the most fashionable woman in London? The wife of the richest man in England? Of course we all know Lady Blakeney!"
Suzanne tossed her head defiantly. "I'll never believe it. We went to school together, in France you know. I was very fond of Marguerite, I'll not believe she ever did anything so wicked."
"That may be, but there is no mistake! I hope to god that while I'm in this beautiful country, I never meet Marguerite Saint- Just!" The comtesse declared.
Lord Antony and Sir Andrew looked understandably awkward. The former leaned forward.
" When do you expect Sir Percy and Lady Blakeney?" he whispered.
"At any minute now." The fair haired man replied. Even as he spoke, the clatter of horses hooves could be heard slowing on the cobblestones outside the door. Immediately, the room was thrown into chaos. The comtesse stood, declaring her intention to leave. Lord Antony stood with an oath and called to the landlord to delay their entry, and give the French women a chance to withdraw. Then a sweet voice with a slight foreign intonation could be heard through the din.
Kyoko swept into the room, head held high with a smile on her small face. She was immediately the centre of attention.
"Brrrr...! Has anyone ever seen such a contemptible climate? I am perished with cold!" Lady Blakeney stood tall in her rich velvet robe, with her plumed hat casing gentle shadows across her features, all set off by the graceful contour of her figure. With a quick glance around the room, Marguerite Blakeney had taken stock of everyone there. She smiled merrily at Andrew Ffoulkes.
"Sir Andew, what are you doing here in Dover?" without waiting, she moved straight onto Suzanne, and her whole face lit up, "Why! If it isn't my little Suzanne! Pardieu, citizeness, how came you to England?"
She walked up to them both, with her hands outstretched, as if that would breach the bloody gap between the aristocrats and the republicans. Lord Anthony and Sir Andrew watched from the sidelines with apprehension, recognising the tension in the Comtesse's body.
"Suzanne, I forbid you to speak to that woman!" grated the lady. She turned to leave the room, placing a restraining hand on her daughters arm. "Come."
For a brief second, Lady Blakeney's face fell, becoming slightly paler. The hand that clutched the beribboned stick seemed to shake. However, in another second the red lips were curving into a sarcastic smile and one delicate eyebrow was raised.
"Hoity toity, citizeness. What fly stings you, pray?"
"We are in England, madame, and I may forbid my daughter to touch your hand in friendship. Gentlemen." The older woman bowed to the two men, who subsequently bowed back, and she turn and exited the room. As Suzanne moved to follow her mother, she glanced back and saw the longing expression in the eyes of the beautiful woman scarce older than herself. She turned and ran back to Marguerite, grasping her hands and kissing her on the cheek before leaving. Her kind gesture effectively removed some of the tension from the room. Marguerite smiled and gathered up her skirts, walking gracefully over to the fireplace.
"Well, did you ever see such an unpleasant woman! 'Suzanne, I forbid you to speak to that woman!'" she gave a passable imitation of the Comtesse's voice.
The laughter that followed was a little tense. The young Vicomte, who had not followed his mother out, stood forward to champion her, but before he could a sound was heard from outside the room. It was the pleasant, but slightly inane laugh of Sir Percy Blakeney, baronet, and in another second the man himself had entered the room. Immaculately dressed, rich with a good figure and fine features, and over six feet tall, he would have been singularly handsome had it not been for the vaguely lazy expression in his eyes and the curl of his lips. It had amazed all of England when the sleepiest, dullest most British Brittisher that had ever set a pretty woman yawning, had secured a most sought after matrimonial prize that had had so many contestants. One day, Marguerite Saint-Just, known as the smartest woman in France, had simply up and married an Englishman and left her home country.
It was a mystery.
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Okay, that is it for now! In case you didn't get it, Ren is Percy Blakeney.
Yeah...
So, now I suppose you'd like to get on with your life/homework/reading. However, I personally would love to get 30 reviews by next chapter soooo... Click the button. You know you want to.