Chapter Eighteen
-Luka-
"Hello, welcome to Belle Fashion Studio," says a tall woman behind the reception desk, looking at me under her glasses. "How may I help you?" she asks.
"Hello, I'm Luka Megurine," I introduce myself positively, giving her a smile as my long pink hair falls over my shoulders. She nods her head.
"Hello, Ms. Megurine. Are you one of the youth models for Company CV?" she asks. I nod my head. "Alright," she smiles warmly, reaching across her desk to examine the clipboard that sits to the right of her. Her short brown haircut complements her eyes well, and the red accents to her outfit look nice, too. "Just wait outside of Room CV03. Further assistance will be there in a minute," she says.
"Okay. Thank you," I smile, walking off as my heels click against the tile floor. Click-click, click-click, click-click. I scroll up and down the hallways. CV03… CV03… I walk past CV01, CV02… Ah, there it is. I come to a stop and wait patiently outside of the door.
I check my watch and bite my lip. It's been at least a minute. I try knocking on the door. Nothing happens. "Hello?" I call, pressing my face to the side of it. Not even a sound.
"Hi," answers a voice from behind. I spin around, planting myself to the back of the door in surprise. In front of me is a tall man with brown hair and glasses. He wears a black business suit with a blue tie and black dress shoes. "There's no need to knock," he informs me with a grin, "Nobody's in there."
"O-Oh," I stammer, "Whoops!" He chuckles.
"I'm Kiyoteru Hiyama," he says, reaching out his hand, "Welcome to Belle Fashion Studio, Company CV." Letting go of the door, I cautiously take his hand. He shakes it firmly.
"Luka Megurine," I say, regaining confidence and letting go of his hand. "I suppose you're my designer?" I ask. He lets out a hearty laugh.
"Oh no," he chuckles, "Not me. I just manage you."
"Oh," I reply with a sheepish laugh, "Sorry."
"That's okay," he smiles. "Your designer will be here any minute now. He's new, so go easy on him," he winks.
"Alright, thanks," I laugh as he walks off. What a friendly person. I wait outside the door again, only hearing subdued sounds of fax machines and footsteps in rooms nearby. I wonder what's inside the room.
Trying my hardest to keep quiet and not draw attention, I gently test the doorknob, quite surprised to see that it opens easily. I slip into the room. The walls and tables are white, and the large window on the wall allows enough light to flow into the space for me to take a good look around.
One thing catches my eye, however. Standing tall and proud in the front of the room is a large pencil sketch of a woman. She has long straight blonde hair that stands out from the dark tone of her outfit. She is wearing a black formal blazer and under it are a knee-length black pencil skirt and a white dress shirt. Hanging from her neck to match is a bold silver necklace with black gems. Her black sunglasses top off the entire look.
I can't help but stare in awe as I realize that there are more drawings sitting on the table beside me. Each outfit seems to be on the same blonde-haired model, and each outfit brings out her slender triangular figure… almost perfectly. I run my finger gently along the smooth paper, tracing the outline of the dress she's wearing in one even motion…
"I wouldn't touch that if I were you," says a low broody voice. I turn around, snatching my hand off of the drawing. In the doorway stands a tall man in a dark, elegant suit with long purple hair that soars down his back, tied up into a loose ponytail. He has a cross look on his face, which, upon seeing me, pulls itself up into a smirk. What the-?
"I-I'm sorry," I say, my eyes widening, as I pull my hands from off the table. I back up slowly, panic moving me, only to crash into it. "I-I didn't mean to touch anything!" I stammer. So much for confidence and first impressions.
"You must be my model," he says, his smirk growing. My model? The use of the word "my" in that sentence…
"Y-Yes," I hurriedly say, regaining my posture, "I'm Luka Megurine," I introduce myself, reaching out my hand to shake his. "Are you my designer?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows. He takes my hand in his, curling his cold fingers around mine. An uncomfortable shudder runs through my body as he does so.
"Yes, Ms. Megurine," he says, sending chills through me as he squeezes the breath out of my fingers. "I'm Mr. Kamui," he tells me. Holding his gaze uneasily, I give him a tentative nod. I swear I can see a hint of laughter in his eyes… wild, predatory laughter. Something about him… seriously frightens me…
"Um, Mr. Kamui, sir," I start, pulling my hand away unnervingly, "What kind of look are you going to design for me?" I ask.
"Ah, good question. I see you've already helped yourself to the last youth model's collection," he says, eyeing me. Letting out a breath, my shoulders sink weakly. "So far, we've had flirty, urban, vintage, boho, preppy, bold, sporty, couture, earthy, you name it," he lists, ticking off each one with his fingers.
"Really?" I ask, "All that?"
"Yes," he answers. "But usually, we like to give a change in style when our new models come around," he tells me.
"So that leaves…" I start running through things in my head. Goth. No, there is no way he'd put me in that kind of mess. Hipster? Like, the stuff Gumi sometimes wears? No thank you, no offense. Nerdy? Bringing up Gumi again… That's just-
"Sophisticated," he smirks, his eyes twinkling. Sophisticated?
"L-Like…?" I trail off.
"Elegant, chic," he shrugs. Suddenly, he meets my gaze. "Classy," he finishes. This shouldn't be too bad, and sophisticated seems like the kind of look I can definitely pull off- I do it all the time!
"Alright," I say, a smile making its way onto my lips, "That shouldn't be too hard."
"I'm glad we had this little meeting," Mr. Kamui says, "But I really must be getting to work now. The other models will probably be here soon."
As if on cue, the door bursts open. Strutting into the room approaches a thin girl with pink hair shaped into little ringlets on each side. She sticks her nose into the air as she walks, an irritated expression on her face. "I'm here, Gakupo," she growls.
"What did I tell you about calling me that?" Mr. Kamui glares, slamming his hand on the table.
"I'm here, Mr. Kamui," she hisses.
"Yeah, whatever. Just go ahead and introduce yourself," Mr. Kamui says. The pink-haired girl turns toward me, her crimson eyes burning. Suddenly, much to Mr. Kamui's disbelief, she smiles cutely and waves.
"Hello! I'm Teto!" she giggles, reaching out to shake my hand. I take it tentatively, only to gasp as she yanks it up and down, shaking it violently. "What's your name?" she asks me.
"Luka Megurine," I reply cautiously, pulling my hand back as if I had just touched something burning. She giggles.
"Your hair is so pretty," she smiles. Suddenly, her eyes widen. "C-Can I touch it?" she asks. Without waiting for a response, she grabs a fistful of my long thulian hair and pets it, holding it to her cheek like a blanket. I gently tug it out of her constricted grasp.
"T-Thanks," I say hesitantly. Only to cause me further confusion, the door swings open again. This time, a girl with a galaxy-patterned dress and a white hoodie comes walking in. She wears a strange… crown on her head. Under the crown, she has long hair that's blonde on one side and bizarrely brunette on the other, which has multicolored bangs.
"Hi!" she says right away, "I'm Galaco Galaxias!" she smiles, placing her hands assertively on her hips. I furrow my eyebrows. "You must be Luka Megurine," she says, turning to me. "Welcome to Company CV!" she says grandly.
"Thank you, Galaco," Mr. Kamui says, clearing his throat pointedly, "Just have a seat, all of you, until the others get here. Luka, you might as well stay."
"Mr. Kamui?" Galaco asks, sitting down as her jewel-embedded golden crown bounces on her head. "What kind of look will I be wearing this time?" she asks.
"I'll explain that once the others arrive," he says. Right as he finishes his sentence, the door swings open yet again. Was I early or something? Walking into the room comes a girl with wavy long light strawberry blonde hair and little black cat ears attached. These people keep getting weirder and weirder.
"Ah, Seeu, long time no see," Galaco smiles, placing her hands on the table. That girl sure is talkative. Seeu sits down shyly without a word. She doesn't even make eye contact with anybody at the table. This girl, on the other hand…
"Now we're just waiting for our last model," Mr. Kamui says tiredly, resting his cheek on his hand. As if on cue, the door opens once again. A girl with long cherry red hair comes walking in with a cheery smile on her face. A tall ahoge sprouts from the top of her head. Upon recognizing it, a sudden feeling rushes through me. I swear I've seen her before…
"Hi!" she smiles, "I'm Miki Furukawa!"
So, she met Miki... Maybe in time, there'll be ties with Piko! Sorry, I got a little bit lazy on this chapter. There wasn't a lot going on when I made it seem more exciting than it turned out to be. So, to make up for it, maybe I'll drag Miku and Rin into a bigger mess in the next couple chapters! ;)