Chapter 5: Rotten Apples
With great reluctance Miku had set the small alarm on her bedside to seven o'clock, turning the volume on the radio up to a level deemed capable of waking her. The speakers now let loose a flurry of obscene music which is quickly silenced by her swinging hand, feeling around the tabletop for a moment before finding the snooze button and pressing down fervently. She waits a moment before opening her eyes, her lips turning up slightly at the sight of sunlight streaming through the unobstructed window; she had made certain last night to open the curtains before to sleep for this express reason.
Slightly motivated by the brightness of the weather she pulls herself upwards, tugging a strand of hair out of her eyes and placing it behind her ear. She swings her legs over the side of the bed and stands, forcing her legs to remain and not collapse under her at the too sudden movement after being stationary for so long. With a shake of her draining head she strolls to the bathroom to clean herself up. She frowns at the mirror, tugging at the lids of her black smudged eyes. Apparently she hadn't done as good of a job of removing her make-up as she thought. With a sigh she reaches over to the shower and turns on the water, warming it up as she strips her clothing, deciding that it will be one of those days where she has to take two showers.
Her eyes stinging from rubbing them so hard she travels back into the main room, drying her wet hair with a towel. She barely has enough time to throw on a pair of capris and a shirt before a knock sounds at the door. She calls out "Come in" and the entry opens with a click, revealing a vaguely familiar boy smiling sheepishly as he pushes a cart in.
"Room service," he states, pointing out the obvious. Miku almost wants to laugh at how nervous he looks. Is he always this timid? She's not famous enough for it to be fearful admiration, right? Maybe it's just because she's a woman? With an internal chuckle she nods at him, sitting down on the bed and reaching out to wrap her fingers around a warm cup of caffeine. He stands there for a moment, shuffling his feet, before reaching out to a platter and revealing a steaming bowl of oatmeal, blueberries dotting the beige here and there.
"You never specified what you wanted, so I brought up something healthy." He scratches his chin, words going faster and ever raising in pitch. Miku watches amusedly from behind the rim of her cup as the boy worriedly fills the silence. "You don't really like junk food, do you? Like the cakes and things? Guess you have to keep your figure, modeling and all…" his babbling stops and his face flushes bright red, hands waving in front of his face hectically. "Not that there's anything wrong with your figure! You're beautiful!" Miku raises her eyebrows and his voice pitches up even more. "No! I mean- you…" He trails off as she shakes her head.
"You're precious," she laughs lightly, finding his anxiety strangely humorous.
He merely knits his eyebrows at the comment before taking a step back towards the door. "Just put the cart outside the door when you're done." Miku nods, her eyes trailing away and towards the window again. The door swings almost silently in its hinges before coming to a soft halt as it hits the door frame. She picks at the blue and beige mush and sips scalding mouthfuls of coffee as the world slowly lightens more, pushing her to rise from her seat and head out.
The outside is alive with springtime, even here in the heart of urbanization. Miku eyes the trees lining the boulevards as she sticks her hand into traffic, waving it back and forth. Tiny reddish-green buds push out from barren winter branches, seeming like miniature rubies at the end of a thick curling wire. As she stoops into the taxi that pulls up she smiles at a small bird that flutters in among the twigs. After giving her destination to the cabby she leans back in the seat, blinking at the cloudless sky a few times before turning to her phone, checking her email and then settling down and closing her eyes.
The trip to the set takes less time than she remembers and she quickly finds herself hauling herself upwards and fishing a bill out of her purse for the driver. Stepping out into the cool morning air she hurries over to the door, all sounds from outside suddenly cutting off as the entrance shuts behind her, leaving her in a silent white lobby. Surer of her destination today than before she strides to the elevator and presses the '7' button, leaning against the handrail as the machine begins to rise.
The doors slide open to a familiar shadowy hallway, the curtained window at the end the only source of light. Feeling slightly unsettled by the seeming desertion of the place she hurries to the forth door on the right and turns the handle, not bothering to knock.
It opens to a surprisingly similar scene as before; a mostly empty apartment with various photo-shoot supplies lying around. The only difference Miku can find is that the carry-out boxes and trash in the corners have been cleaned up and the blackout curtains are pulled back, light gauzy sheets just barely inhibiting the sunshine from entering the room. She steps inside, glancing around her at the empty chairs, her ears ringing in the silence. She clutches tighter to her bag, suddenly feeling uneasy, and wanders farther in, looking around to corners to try and glimpse a face. Halfway across the room she picks up the discreet sound of fabric against fabric, sliding hastily and then halting. Her gaze traces the source of the noise, trailing over to where two navy eyes focus on her perplexedly.
He turns further in his chair, his feet pointing towards her like arrows onto a target. His face remains neutral, but Miku can tell that he's somehow surprised to see her. "What are you doing here?" The words are spoken in a manner that would usually be too quiet, but fit in perfectly with the current environment. Miku breathes out a sigh she hadn't realized she'd been holding and relaxes her tensed muscles.
"What do you mean? I'm here to work." He blinks at her once before turning back to his laptop, pulling something across the screen with a tablet set in front of him.
"Don't need to." His speech is mumbled and hard to understand but she raises her eyebrows all the same. Without glancing over to register her reaction he continues on "I've got enough to work with. No more."
Miku stands there for a moment, thinking and processing, before suddenly returning to the moment to nod her head and bid the man goodbye. He doesn't respond, just blows a strand of cobalt hair out of his eyes as she leaves. The door shuts and she halts in the hallway confusedly, running a hand through her ponytail and twisting the ends. There's no more work for her here? Well, that's all fine and good she supposes; it's not like she'll get paid any less. With a strange sigh she exits the building and looks around the surrounding area.
It's mostly converted apartments like the one she was in by the looks of it. There aren't many people about and cars pass by occasionally. She frowns as she begins taking long strides down the pavement, looking for something to do. It's a little odd that a professional company would choose to set up shop in a sleepy neighborhood like this on the outskirts of town. With a wandering thought she turns down street and dully scans the nearby buildings. There's a closed café and a gas station with flickering lights, some guy leaning against the pump. She watches for a second, seeing if she's missing anything, before continuing on down the road to see if she can find a park or something.
There are a few shrubs planted along the sidewalk here, but none of the spritely and clean-cut saplings that adorn the streets near her hotel. She comes to a crossroads and looks around again, her gaze meeting only empty one-story houses and dusty driveways; it would seem that most residents around here are either at work or school. At a house down a ways a lady exits her home to hang some laundry on a line, but reenters quickly, the slam of her door echoing through the streets until it mixes with the sounds of traffic in the distance.
Miku remains rooted at the crossroads, not really knowing which way to go. She doesn't have a plan – she usually doesn't need one. It's not very often that she has free time to spend however she wants. The idea of wasting days away with a glowing screen doesn't interest her, and she hasn't been visiting this city long enough to know any local hotspots. She supposes a library or town's center would always be a good place to start, but the idea of walking in there like some kind of tourist makes her acutely squeamish.
With a tired tilt of the head she crosses the road, determining the street to her left to be leading back into the heart of urbanization. Deciding to at least take a nice walk through the city before returning to her suite she lifts her head up, trying to focus forward but instead catching a snap of something out of the corner of her eye. She almost stops but forces herself to keep walking, keeping her muscles relaxed and head high even as her brain whirls.
Her pace speeds up almost unnoticeably, but for her it cannot go fast enough. She's painfully aware of the lack of people around her as she speeds through the streets, hands clenching of their own accord. Without thinking she turns and circles around the block, charging quickly ahead for a few moments on the new side of it. Her ears tingle with expectation for a sound, any sound, as her eyes desperately try to work their way back through her head and see what's behind her.
She crosses the road again, changing direction on the other side to discreetly peek at where she had come. With a silent curse she speeds up more, reaching into her purse to grip her cell, her nails bending against the hard plastic cover. Her legs carrying her swiftly across the concrete and push her forward, making dangerous dashes through alleyways in an attempt to get to her destination faster.
She suddenly breaks into familiar territory, sprinting past the deserted gas station and propelling herself towards the complex on the opposite street. She swears she can hear the pounding of feet behind her, getting ever closer, and she desperately tries to remember what little bit of self-defense she had taught herself. She had bought an e-book on the topic once, considering the skill useful but hoping she would never have to use it. As she crashes through the front doors of the building and stumbles across the lobby to the stairwell, she wonders why she hadn't read those pages more attentively.
She takes the stairs in twos, using the handrails to propel her upwards. Her sides hurt after just four flights but she pushes on, thrusting herself through the door on the seventh landing and tearing down the hallway on a high of pure adrenaline. She swings open the door and shuts it behind her, turning the lock and eyeing the deadbolt meaningfully. After a moment of scrambling with the mechanism she sighs, tossing her bag onto the lone sofa and wandering into the main room again.
He's already turned to the sound of the noise, his eyebrows furrowed and hand gripping a stapler with passion. Miku can't help but wonder if he was considering attacking the possible intruder with the tool, and if so, she's certain he knows how to use it. She brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear and plasters on a professional smile. The photographer doesn't seem fazed and just continues staring, a finger toying with the stapler menacingly.
"Mind if I hang here for a while?" If possible his glare seems to grow even more taciturn and the silence takes on an icy edge. For a moment their gazes are glued to each other, uncomfortable electricity prickling between them but neither one weak enough to look away. After a moment the man opens his mouth, his eyebrows screwing upwards a bit before he speaks.
"Fine." The sharp word is almost lost as he quickly rotates back to his work, seemingly cutting off Miku's existence from his perception. She considers thanking him, but stops herself, remembering that this is a company facility after all and she has full right to be here. Even with that self-assurance it takes her a moment to settle down on the sofa, feeling that somehow she's intruding. Her gaze switches from the sky out the window to the man back to the window, looking for something varying in the shades of blue but finding nothing of the sort.
A/N: This is the last chapter I wrote before I lost steam. I'm officially going on a hiatus from Marionette for a while, but I'll still be writing other things. I'll come back to it eventually.