After two years, here I am again. With my four months vacation I am currently trying to salvage my other stories, such as Evasive Her and Her Favorite Boy. The only problem is that I already have decided on the plots of the following stories, including this, and Lord of the Potter Rings they are long, thick and heavy. Oops. Please don't take that in another way.

Handsome in Blue Navy Jacket

By Y.M.H.O

Chapter 3: When You Fail Miserably

Mikan thought she could not get any happier—for the first time in the longest forever, she woke up at 6 am, didn't care about her clothes, actually got the ride on the last morning bus and bought the hotdog from around the corner that had two condiments: ketchup and mayonnaise. Now, now. That was some rare chance, hotdog with ketchup—

"Have I missed my medicines?" A hushed voice startled Mikan and she turned her head to see Mr. Viejo lay a wrinkled hand on the shoulder of his assistant.

"I think you had them all." The assistant replied.

"Simvastatin?"

"Yes."

"Donepezil?"

"Yes."

"Metamphetamine?"

"That's a drug sir!"

"Ammoxicillin?"

"You don't even take that medicine!"

Mikan cracked a smile and continued walking on the pavement while staring at the elderly. The assistant brought a hand to the Mr. Viejo's forehead.

"Why, are you feeling unwell?" He asked worriedly and fumbled in his bag for something. The old man raised a hand and pointed at Mikan who was busy stifling her laughter with her hotdog.

"Mikan's there." He said monotonously. The assistant turned.

"Mikan's there." He repeated.

"I am telling you that Mikan's there." The old man scowled.

"Yes, I know what you're saying… 'Mikan's there' that's what." The assistant scowled back.

"I am telling you that Mikan's there!" Mr. Viejo raised his voice and pointed at her direction once more. Mikan was shaking so hard the mayonnaise was dripping and she saved it with a swipe of her hand.

"Yes! I know what you're saying! You're saying that 'Mikan's there'!" The assistant imitated the old man's pointing and faltered.

"Mikan's there?"

"Yes. Mikan's there you twat. Wait, you see her too?" The old man turned curiously to him.

"Yes. Is this perhaps a dream? Inception? Mikan's not awake yet this time…." He muttered. Mr. Viejo suddenly froze.

"What if we're dead? And Mikan's seeing us in her dreams… We're her guides, like in Insidious!"

"No I'm not dead, you can be dead! Don't pull me into—"

Mikan hurried away, trying in vain to make the statement 'choking on a hotdog' a little bit decent.

.

.

.

"This is it Mikan, your dream job." Hotaru clasped her bestfriend's hand as the latter remained frozen by the sidewalk. Hotaru groaned.

"Are you really going to be like this? It's time to give them a grand first impression!" She exclaimed and shook Mikan's shoulders.

"What if they don't like me, Hotaru?" Mikan drawled and backed away. Hotaru's hands suddenly turned into clamps.

"There is no way they're not going to like you. And if they won't…" She sighed and turned away and Mikan jumped forward.

"WHAT?"

"Does it really matter? This is your dream job, after all." She turned back to Mikan and placed something on her hands. Mikan stared with wide eyes and raised the object with shaking hands.

"Ho-Hotaru…." Hotaru sighed once more.

"Hotaru… This is—"

"A phone. It's about time you got one." She cut in and walked away before Mikan clung to him again.

"But Hotaru, this is expensive…."

"Shut it. Just call me if anything happens." Mikan clutched the phone clumsily in her hands.

"But I don't know how to use it!" She called out.

"You should know how!"

.

.

.

It took fifteen minutes for Mikan to move away from the spot Hotaru had left her. She just silently watched the people entering the glass, rotating doors and wondered why the hell she ended up there. She should've just ordered two king-sized hotdogs earlier with extra mayo and ketchup, and gone home to prepare herself spiritually for this ordeal.

She sighed.

But this was her dream job! Her dream job in her dream company! How could she let this pass? Mustering what little courage she had left, she glanced at her watch. She was ten minutes early. It's not bad if someone were early on her first day.

The presence of people was increasing, she noticed, as she tried as best as she could to walk normally towards the rotating doors. This is it. This is it. You're not going to ruin this by smacking on the glass.

There. She was fine. She got through the doors—

"Sacred feces." She felt herself pause.

It was stupid not to have expected this. By the grandeur displayed outside, with the bricks impossibly blending with the marble, she would be a fool to expect less inside.

She was a fool.

Everything was smooth marble. Smooth, cold marble that it reminded her of museums. But this was different in many ways. There were several elevators on the right, giant escalators on the left, filled with people on their phones and a huge reception desk. She walked towards the latter, towards the smiling, petite woman who was organizing files when a huge hand landed on her shoulders.

"Who might you be?" A harsh voice sounded and she was turned around in an instant. If Mikan weren't so happy, she would've screamed. The man before her was as huge as his voice and armed with sharp, glaring eyes that could freeze anyone on the spot. He bore a long scar on his cheek that contrasted with his brown complexion.

"I… um… I am new here! IamMikanYukiharaIjustgotacceptedintothisjobyesterdayIhaveadogcharitytofeedpleasedonotkillme." She muttered and the man, clearly a security guard, released her in confusion.

"What?" Mikan took a deep breath and released it slowly.

"I am Mikan Yukihara. I am new here, I am supposed to work under Sir Ian McKellen." She said clearly. The man's face softened.

"Ah, so rare do we get new ones here… And Sir Kellen is quite the choosy one…." He mumbled and took hold of Mikan's shoulders once more.

"May I see your I.D? If you got accepted her, the company should've mailed it to you earlier." He explained while holding out his hand. Mikan retrieved it from her bag and placed it into his open palm.

"Do you know where Sir Ian McKellen is? They told me the set is the West Wing." She asked while the guard inspected her I.D and returned it.

"You should take the escalator and turn left. Turn left until you can't turn left anymore, and walk straight ahead. It should be dark there, but don't worry, you would know by the buzz of the people." He explained and pushed Mikan after she nodded.

"Good luck on your first day! And a word of advice: be careful calling names." He grinned and returned to his station, not allowing Mikan to reply.

She just walked forward, careful to navigate around the huge crowds and the impossibly good-looking people, until she reached the grand escalator. From the vantage point, she could see the place more clearly. She restrained herself from gaping.

She turned left. Then she turned left once more. She turned left until there were no available left turns and came to a stop at a dark corridor. She shivered and moved forward cautiously.

"Hello?" She called out and felt for the walls. It was cold. She cursed at herself for just wearing slacks and white long-sleeves.

"Is anybody here?" She called out once more and saw a blinking red light ahead of her. All the hairs at the back of her neck stood and she screamed.

"Mr. Devil please don't take me!"

.

.

"CUT!"

A voice boomed and suddenly it was too bright. A hand grabbed her shoulder and spun her around sharply. Why the hell were people grabbing her shoulders?

"Mr. Devil… would take me… if you stand in here a little longer!" The hand on her shoulder tightened and she flinched. She raised her head to protest when a thought suddenly occurred to her.

"Sir Ian McKellen?" A vein popped in the man's head and his eyes narrowed.

"Do not call me that. Wait, who are you?" He asked, and Mikan took the opportunity to stare at the man before her. He was wearing a neon green long-sleeved polo with a cowboy vest on top, and jagger pants. She gulped before a wide smile appeared on her face.

"You're gay!" Snickers rose from the crowd that had turned silent upon her intrusion and Sir Ian McKellen rolled her eyes before releasing her.

"No, Sherlock. Well, who are you?"

"I'm Mikan Yukihara, I'm your new camera man!" Mikan reached forward for his hands and took it. Sir Ian McKellen squeaked in surprise and snickers rose from the crowd once more.

"First, you call me Sir Yannee. Never that." Mikan nodded enthusiastically.

"Secondly, you camera woman, you just interrupted our shoot." Mikan's face fell.

"I'm sorry for that… I thought I was lost. And I'm a camera man!"

"Camera woman."

"Camera man!"

"Camera woman! Why, are you gay like me?"

"What? I'm not!"

"Yannee, let her call herself whatever she wants." A cool, gentle voice interrupted their bickering, and heads turned.

Mikan could feel herself melt little by little, and slowly, as a man with blonde hair and handsome face approached them with a smirk.

"This girl just interrupted my shoot, Ruka." Sir Ian protested as Ruka stopped before them.

"She did so accidentally. And she apologized. There's nothing to make fuss of." He reason and turned to Mikan with the same smirk.

"Are you alright there, camera woman?"

The snickers grew louder and Mikan blushed crimson.

This is our dream, Aoshi. We're finally here.

I updated a day earlier! [cries and runs to a corner 'there can be miracles…'] I was afraid that I might not be able to write for tomorrow since I am supposedly visiting my college-to-be. So here it is!

This story is kind of my outlet for light writing since in Evasive Her it's still slightly angsty. But not for long bwahaha. Mikan and Natsume's characters here are quite easier to write for they're just the same old prototype of what we deem them to be. But I'm playing around with Ruka, so watch out for him, and Mikan and Natsume's motives.

I'll be updating this on Mondays, and Evasive Her on Thursdays or Fridays.

Thank you for reading, and review!

Y.M.H.O