Greetings everyone! Hope you all had a splendid weekend. As always, thank you for your continued interest in the story. I know updates aren't as frequent as I used to write them, but I'll try my best to be consistent. Your patience is much appreciated. Thank you again, and please read and review!

*Quote written by Jack Welch*

Disclaimer: I do not own Skip Beat or any of its characters.

No matter how fun or exciting the career, a break was a break so even famous actors and actresses couldn't help but smile in relief when the bell finally rang for lunch. Some went back to their metal trailers for a costume change, others stood around enjoying the company of their fellow stars, while the rest walked around to stretch and relax their stiff muscles.

But among the numerous people moving around on set, there was one actor Yashiro couldn't find. With eyebrows furrowed, he searched for his tall friend, but he couldn't spot him anywhere. Feeling more anxious than usual, he approached a group of crewman near the edge of the set and asked, "Hey guys, have you seen Ren?"

"Tsuruga-san? Yeah, I saw him walk off over there," one of them replied, pointing towards the thicket of trees.

"Thanks." He quickly made his way across the grassy field, smiling at the people who nodded in his direction and trying to walk as casually as possible, even though his feet wanted to break out into a full-on run. Apprehension was drilling a hole in his gut. He had to find Ren—fast.

Not because he needed to tell him something. Not because there was anything urgent, but because for every second that ticked by, Yashiro was growing more and more anxious that his friend was going to do something stupid. Most people would say he was being ridiculous. Ren had been nothing but normal the last few days. He came to work like usual, he finished his scenes with the same level of perfection as expected, and he even smiled like his usual self. It was almost as if nothing was wrong

And that was what worried Yashiro the most.

Because if there was anything Yashiro knew about his friend, it was that Ren was good at hiding his emotions—too good. Yashiro had tried on multiple occasions to talk to him with the hopes that it would help relieve his heavy heart, but Ren had dismissed every attempt. He insisted that he was fine. He promised that everything was okay.

And he was lying through his goddamn teeth.

Angry again at his foolish stubbornness, Yashiro gritted his teeth and broke into a light jog. The trees were growing thicker until only some rays of light filtered through the canopy of leaves. It was getting darker, but that didn't force Yashiro to turn around. He was bound to run into him eventually. So keeping his pace, he continued to run deeper into the forest until a shadow of a figure caught his attention from the right.

Yashiro moved a thick branch aside and sighed with relief.

He was sitting on the grass with his knees bent in front of him, holding his black cell phone in his right hand. The light breeze blew his hair across his hooded eyes, but he didn't brush the strands away. He just stared out at the lake, as if waiting for something to spring from its crystal blue surface.

Yashiro didn't bother announcing his arrival. He just took a seat beside his friend, mirroring his relaxed posture. On any other day, he would have raved about how beautiful this place was and how much he enjoyed filming off-location. But not today. Today, he had other words in mind, words he had kept bottled up for so long he thought he was going to explode. But sympathy for his friend glued his mouth shut, fear of hurting him kept him silent.

He couldn't say a word.

"Yashiro."

"Yeah?"

"Is something wrong?"

"You're asking me that?" He gave his head a slight shake. "That question is a little misdirected, don't you think?"

"Considering how agitated you look, I would say no."

"And what about you? Are you agitated?"

Ren leaned forward, providing no response.

Frustrated all over again, Yashiro got to his feet and walked closer to the lake, hands linked behind his back. He wanted to stay neutral. He really did. He wanted to play along with the facade, but Yashiro couldn't take this anymore. He couldn't stand watching him suffer in silence. He hated not knowing what was going through his mind. He hated seeing the distant look in his eyes. And above all, he hated how useless he felt as his friend. So forgoing his patience, he spun around and asked, "Why are you doing this?"

"Yashiro—"

"You may be able to fool the reporters, you may be able to fool your fans. Hell, you may even be able to fool her, Ren, but not me."

"I'm not trying to fool anyone."

"No? So this isn't some charade? You're not trying to put on a brave face so that people will think you're fine?"

"This isn't for them."

"Then who is this for?"

"Me." Ren raised his head and met Yashiro's confused expression. "This is for me."

"What do you mean?"

"It doesn't matter what the world thinks. It doesn't matter what people are saying about me. All the stares, all the questions, they don't mean anything to me."

"Then why—?"

"Because this is all I can do to stay sane."

Yashiro stopped.

"I'm not doing this to reassure anyone, Yashiro," Ren murmured in a low voice. "I'm not doing this because I care about what people are thinking of me. I don't think I care about anything anymore." He shook his head and lowered his eyes to the floor. "This lie is the only thing that is keeping me from falling apart. This useless charade is the only thing I'm holding on to. Without this, I have nothing else."

Yashiro stared at his lowered head, feeling regret weigh heavily upon his shoulders. If he could take those words back, he would. He had only wanted to help, but in his ignorance, he had sliced open Ren's wounds without considering the pain that would follow. Yashiro stepped forward, trying to find the right words to say, to fix the problem he had cruelly created, but no solution came to mind.

People were always told to face reality as it is, not as it was or as they wish it to be*. But how could he say those words when Ren had never looked so broken? Yashiro knew that he would never be able to understand the turmoil his friend felt. But seeing him so defeated was enough. Life had dealt him the worst blow possible. This reality wasn't just cruel. It was malicious and truly unforgiving.

So what could Yashiro say? What else could he possibly do except acquiesce to Ren's request? How else could he possibly help except walk back the way he came and allow him to find solace within his own lie? Nothing. There was nothing else. This was all he could do.

Ren didn't raise his head when he heard Yashiro move. He didn't do anything until his friend's retreating footsteps finally faded away, until the only thing he could hear were the rustle of leaves over his head and the quiet gurgle of water rippling across the surface of the lake. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead onto his knees, holding down the onslaught emotions that threatened to well over.

Not again…

He focused on his breathing, counting to three before every inhale and every exhale. He tried to clear his mind so that the only thing he could feel was the world around him. But no matter what he did, her face wouldn't disappear from his memory. Her touch wouldn't fade. The warmth of her skin, the sound of her voice, and the smell of her hair haunted his every thought.

Ren felt the familiar pain crawl up his throat, digging its claws into his resolve and tearing it to shreds. Just like the many times before, he could do nothing except succumb to its torture and allow it to take hold. His shoulders trembled with the effort to keep the pain under control. His heart howled in grief, but worst of all, in hatred of his own weakness.

It was only the beeping of his cell phone that finally pulled him back to the present. Silently, he flipped the thin device open and read:

PAYMENT OF $25,450.48 RECEIVED BY JUTENDO HOSPITAL. THANK YOU.

Ren sighed and closed his tired eyes. He should have felt better. He should have felt at peace in knowing that he was able to help. But he couldn't, not like this, not when he knew that this was the last and final thing he could do for her.

"Sho-chan, are you sure about this?"

"Kyoko—."

"It's just that I don't remember any members of your band and I don't want to embarrass you."

"It's fine, Kyoko. You never really knew them before anyway."

"Still, I—"

"Haven't you always said you want to see me record?"

"Yes, but—"

He reached for her hand. "Then stop. Don't worry about it and just have a good time. Alright?"

Kyoko stared at him with wide eyes, her fingers frozen around his. She was too surprised to say a word. All she could do was trail behind him like a rag-doll as he led her down the hall of his company. He walked with confidence, completely unfazed by the person who was silently freaking out behind him. Kyoko didn't know what to do. She was so confused. She had so many questions to ask, but a thick knot of emotions was stuck in the middle of her throat.

His hand was so warm around hers. The skin was rough from his many years of playing guitar, but it didn't bother her. It only made this moment all the more real. He reached for her hand as if he had done this many times before. He was holding onto her as if this was normal. Kyoko didn't understand, but she didn't pull away. She didn't want to pull away.

They reached a silver metal door at the end that immediately swung open when Sho knocked. A man with black shoulder-length hair which was in desperate need of a comb greeted them with a wide grin. "Hey Sho! Late as usual."

"Shut up, Saito. Is everyone here?"

He nodded and stepped aside. "They're waiting inside." He glanced down at their intertwined hands and his grin grew wider. "Well this is new."

Kyoko smiled shyly. "Hello. My name is Mogami Kyoko."

"Oh, I know who you are. Sho has told us an awful lot about—"

"Saito! Fuck, do you ever shut up?"

He snickered and wrapped an arm around Sho's tense shoulders. "Touchy, touchy. Is that really how you want to act around your lady friend here?"

Growling, Sho shoved Saito aside and pulled Kyoko into the room. The studio was a lot bigger than the one he had at home, but the set-up was mostly the same. There was a sound room that had a couple of wheeled, black chairs and a sound board that looked way too intimidating to touch, and the recording room was separated by a thick glass window. The other two band members were sitting in the sound room. They both looked up as Kyoko walked in.

"Hey guys, this is Kyoko."

Murmurs of greeting filled the room.

Bowing her head low, she said, "Thank you for letting me come today."

"You're the actress, right?"

She looked up and met the eyes of a bald man with pierced ears and a black dragon tattoo etched on the side of his face. His voice was low and scratchy and he was easily the scariest looking member in the room. But when he showed her a friendly smile, Kyoko instantly relaxed and nodded. "Yes, I am."

"So it's true?"

She turned to the blond, lanky man sitting on her left.

"You really have amnesia?"

"Yes."

"How do you know Sho?"

"We go way back," Sho answered, releasing her hand and walking over to the audio player. "Now enough with the 20 questions. We're wasting time."

The blond guy got up with a groan and stretched his arms over his head. "Hey, this is the first time you brought a girl in here. You can't blame us for being interested."

Kyoko looked at Sho with surprise, but he had turned his back on her. She couldn't believe it.

I'm the first?

"Alright, we'll warm up first and then start out with some songs off the album. I want to get through most of it today. We're behind from last week so we need to pick up the pace." Sho turned around, his face wiped clean of amusement. "This might not be the real recording, but I want you to play like it is. Nobody's leaving until everything is perfect, got it?"

Everyone got to their feet and nodded.

It was strange to see Sho so fully in command of his band. This was a side to him Kyoko never really got to experience first-hand. For as long as she could remember, he was always relaxed and carefree, so much so that even Kyoko had to admit that sometimes she wondered how it was he got to be so successful in the first place. But then again, music wasn't just a career to Sho. It was his whole reason for living. It was what made him who he is.

Moving aside, Kyoko bowed her head politely as each member walked into the recording room and took their place beside their respective instruments. Saito stepped beside her and placed a hand upon her shoulder. "It's almost like a concert just for you, huh?"

She smiled. "Yeah, it is."

"Lucky you," he chuckled, winking once before following his fellow band members inside.

"Kyoko."

She turned around.

"Come over here for a second," Sho said as he waved her over to the soundboard.

Kyoko stood beside him and looked down at the large red button he was pointing to.

"If you push this and talk into the microphone, I'll be able to hear you. So if you need anything, don't hesitate to use it, okay?"

"Sho-chan—"

He held up a hand. "Do you always have to argue with me?"

Smiling sheepishly, she shook her head.

"Good, now sit back, relax, and listen to what real music sounds like," he said with a teasing smile before closing the recording door behind him and taking his place behind the large, black microphone. The members followed his lead as he put on a pair of black headphones.

Kyoko took the seat closest to the glass window, mesmerized by the way they all looked as a group. Separately, each of them was drastically different from the other. Saito was grungier than the others, the bald member looked like he was more used to playing metal music, and the blond member's dainty demeanor made it hard to believe he was part of a rock band. But as soon as they started playing, the contribution of each musician was evident.

Their playing was confident, proud, and definitely a head-turner. It was the kind of talent people would listen to over and over again because they would discover something new every time. But the true star of the show wasn't the instruments.

It was the singer.

Kyoko watched with anticipation as Sho held the microphone in his hands, cradling it with his long fingers and pulling it close to his lips. He closed his eyes and with a silent deep breath, he sang. His voice filled the sound room, melodic and hypnotizing. It was almost as if she could hear his passion for music in every word he sang. Maybe it was because she knew that he wrote every lyric with care or how much he sacrificed to become a musician, but Kyoko couldn't deny the feeling of awe that rushed through her veins.

It didn't take long for her to become fully enamored by their playing. They switched from song to song with ease, almost like every song was connected to the other and all they needed was a small signal from Sho to know when to switch. In the safety of the sound room, Kyoko stared at Sho as much as she liked, noticing the tiny smiles he had at the corner of his lips when he hit the right notes or when his band played a section well. It was no doubt that he was the leader, regardless of where he stood. Sho could be singing in the very far back and it would still be clear that he ran the show.

After about the third song, Sho made a swiping motion in the air and all of the music ceased. Removing the headphones, he said, "That's good, guys. Let's take a short break and then we'll start up again."

Kyoko swiveled the chair towards the door as he walked in.

"So what do you think?"

"Do you really have to ask?" Kyoko gave him a big smile. "You're amazing, Sho-chan."

His eyes softened as he crouched down in front of her, placing one hand upon her knee.

Kyoko could feel the heat rush to her cheeks again, but she didn't look away. She just stared down into his eyes and smiled tentatively even while her heart was beating in overtime.

"It's been awhile."

"Since what?"

"Since I've heard your compliments. You always did know the right thing to say."

Kyoko laughed. "I'm sure it hasn't been that long. Considering how good you are, I must have given you plenty of them these last few years."

Then just like that, his expression changed. She couldn't pinpoint exactly what happened, but the movement was significant enough for her to know that she must have said something wrong. But in a blink of an eye, his usual expression suddenly returned.

"You're probably hungry. You didn't eat much of a breakfast this morning."

"It's okay. I'm fine, Sho-chan."

He shook his head and got to his feet. "I'll go outside and tell them to bring lunch up. Wait here."

Kyoko bit on her lower lip as she watched him walk out. She wasn't too sure what happened, but it was obvious she said something she shouldn't have. They were having such a good talk and she had to go and ruin it—again. This had been happening a lot lately. No matter how careful Kyoko tried to be, she would always let something slip that would cause Sho to excuse himself from the room. What was wrong with her?

"Lover's quarrel?"

Kyoko raised her head and saw Saito leaning against the door frame. She shook her head. "Sho-chan and I aren't anything like that, Saito-san."

"You could have fooled me. I've never seen Sho treat a girl the way he does you."

"What do you mean?"

Saito shrugged. "He's more conscious of you, always making sure to know where you are and how you're doing."

"Really?"

"I'm surprised you never noticed. But you know, there is something that has struck me as a little bit odd..."

"What's that?"

"Sho has never brought you around before," he began slowly. "To be honest, I didn't even know you two knew each other. But seeing how you are together, it's obvious that you guys have a history."

"We sort of grew up together."

"Are you sure that's all?"

Kyoko blinked a couple of times in surprise, before saying, "I'm sorry, I don't think I understand what you mean, Saito-san."

With a snap of his fingers, he walked over to a magazine rack near the front door. Rifling through a few of them, he surfaced with a magazine and folded the cover back. Saito turned back to Kyoko and held it out to her. "I'm not sure what you don't remember about your past, Kyoko-san, but maybe this will help jog your memory a bit."

Accepting the catalogue, she read the headline and felt her heart thump to a halt.

MOGAMI KYOKO'S MYSTERY MAN: IDENTITY REVEALED?

She stared down at the picture of herself, smiling up at a man who had silky blond hair that was conveniently covering his face. He had his arm around her shoulders and had her tucked securely into his side. It was the embrace of lovers, that much Kyoko was sure. But she didn't recognize the man.

"Who is—?" She stopped and moved her head in disbelief.

"Only you know the answer to that, Kyoko-san. Although, seeing what happened today, I can't say I don't have an idea."

She turned to him with wide eyes. "N-n-no, it can't be…"

He chuckled. "You're so sure?"

Kyoko looked back at the magazine. Words of denial rose up her throat, but she didn't make a sound. This was too surreal. This was just too much. Her and Sho? How? When?

WHAT?

"You can't deny it, can you?"

Shaking her head, she mumbled, "It doesn't make any sense…"

"Doesn't it? Why else would he be taking care of you so well? You see how he is with you."

"But why wouldn't he say anything? I mean, he and I were never like that before. It just doesn't seem—"

Saito held up both of his hands and laughed. "Hey, I'm not trying to convince you of anything, Kyoko-san. You're the only one who knows the real answer to that. But all I'm saying is—" He pointed at the picture "—it looks pretty clear to me."

Kyoko didn't reply. She didn't have a chance to say anything because as soon as she looked up, Sho had walked through the door. He locked eyes with her alarmed gaze, a question burning behind its blue depths, but she just shook her head with a smile.

Maybe it didn't make any sense. Maybe it went against everything she could remember, but it didn't matter. She was happy, and at least for now, she was just too happy to care.