radio star

x. impasse

Paparazzi flooded the sidewalk in front of the Hiiragizawa Publications building, blocking civilian traffic and causing passersby to crane their heads over the crowd in an attempt to see what the commotion was about. The revolving doors spun, and a roar rose among the crowd as a figure that appeared to be Syaoran Li, flanked by security and staff, made his way out of the building, through the crowds and towards a nearby parking deck. Flashbulbs went off in a hundred different directions, people were jostled everywhere, and the great noise of the frenzy overtook even the noise of the traffic.

It was sheer madness, and although she had seen it several times already, Sakura could not tear her eyes from the scene. She sat on a bench across the street, her own camera in a bag at her side, and waited patiently for the crowd to dissipate per Syaoran's instructions.

The decoy will be leaving through the front of the building at three sharp, his text had read. I'll leave about an hour or so after from the back. You can get photos of me then. I should be alone. Meet me after I get in my car.

Do you want to hang out afterward? Sakura had said back, half out of curiosity and half out of hope. She tried to ignore the latter half.

Sure, why not? had come the reply. We can go get lunch.

You're always thinking about food, she couldn't help but text back, and then she'd hastily texted a silly emoticon right after to show that she was just teasing.

What are you implying...? Syaoran had said back, and Sakura had giggled and simply not responded, prompting him to barrage her with a series of silly texts—"Are you calling me fat?" "Take it back!" "My diet is my own business and not yours!"—trying to guilt her for broaching a "sensitive subject" so carelessly.

After texting each other their plans to coordinate a meeting, Sakura had not had much difficulty in getting out of work. Yamazaki was unsurprisingly lax about it, especially given the stellar pictures Sakura had been turning in from taking photos even when she wasn't working.

Sakura's mind still reeled at the idea of doing this on a regular basis. It was one thing to stage a few shoots to get by, but... She stared at the crowd. Somehow, this felt utterly dishonest. Sure, she had Syaoran's permission, but didn't this mean she was building an entire career off of deceiving her boss? She tried to imagine Yamazaki's reaction if he found out about this deal. She wondered if he'd be pleased, shocked, or angry. She couldn't picture what he looked like when he was angry—it was an emotion that clashed with his impossibly upbeat personality.

She sighed. This was all becoming very complicated. She trusted Syaoran, but she was dabbling in activities that violated many basic journalistic ethics, something that went against her own moral code and all she'd ever learned in her journalism courses and experience. And although she trusted him, there was always a chance he could sue her for libel. She would have no way to prove that she was doing all of this with his approval, some of it even at his suggestion.

But beyond the legalities and technicalities, which only occupied a miniscule part of her thoughts at the moment (something for which she hated herself), all she could think was that her life had become more and more ridiculous, in increasing and more frequent increments, since she had first laid her eyes on that headshot of Syaoran Li.

To say the least, thinking about it stressed her out. It wasn't the ideal situation—although Sakura was sure that most paparazzi would disagree—but what could she do? She was already involved. And then there were her feelings on the matter—on Syaoran...

She'd only met him a handful of times. He seemed straightforward enough and she usually thought herself good at reading people, but Syaoran was one she could not figure out. He was obviously a good guy. She was fairly certain they were friends. But what did he want from her—and why did he trust her so much? It was a mystery to her, and a very frustrating one, at that.

After some time passed, Sakura checked her watch and headed inconspicuously across the street towards the back of the Hiiragizawa Publications building and perched behind a company van across the parking lot, feeling ridiculous in the process of doing so. At four, several people Sakura didn't recognize walked out of the back door, chatting animatedly before dispersing to their respective cars. Ten minutes after those cars left the lot, Sakura watched Syaoran step out of the building, alone as he said he'd be. She raised her camera and began to snap photos, and she amusedly wondered if he was walking more slowly than usual to his car for her benefit. As soon as he disappeared into his car, Sakura stuffed her camera back in her bag and, after a furtive glance around the empty lot, she ran over to his car as well.

"What?" Sakura grumbled, shutting the passenger side door as Syaoran shot her an amused grin.

"Are you practicing for some sort of spy movie? You might as well have done a couple of barrel rolls under the cars while you were at it."

"I was trying to be inconspicuous!" she said defensively, her face turning red from embarrassment. Maybe her duck-and-run strategy had been a bit too much.

"Well, good job," Syaoran chuckled, and he started the engine. "Where to? We'll have to get whatever we're going to eat to go and take it to the studio, if you don't mind."

Sakura frowned. "Didn't you want to see the pictures?"

"The what?"

"The pictures. That's why you wanted me to meet you, right? So you could see the pictures I took just now and make sure I didn't... I don't know, take any bad ones or whatever."

"Oh, right," Syaoran said hurriedly, and he took the camera from Sakura's waiting hands. He shuffled through the pictures on the screen, grimacing inwardly at how low he'd fallen. He'd never even condoned paparazzi photos, and now he was giving his consent and even helping to pick out which ones would be published.

But this was different, because when it came down to it—when he was really being honest with himself—he couldn't have cared less about the pictures.

Still, he had to smile at some of them He felt about as ridiculous as Sakura had looked on her stealth mission to his car. "Man, I really hate this part of the job."

"What, taking pictures?" Sakura leaned over and looked at the photos with him. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I do, too."

Syaoran handed the camera back to Sakura with a nod. "I don't see anything bad there."

"How could you, when you're essentially controlling the exact situation where I'm photographing you?"

Syaoran laughed. "I guess so. You make me sound like a dictator."

"Ah, but you're not," Sakura grinned. "You're a celebrity—more power than a dictator, even."

Syaoran smiled at that and shifted gears before making his way out of the parking lot.

Meiling's hands tightened around the steering wheel of her car as she watched the exchange between Syaoran and the girl with a camera who had gotten in his car. She couldn't quite believe her eyes as she saw them speak, and then, after a few moments, watched Syaoran drive off.

What the hell is he doing? she thought incredulously.

Meiling had never seen that girl before in her life—and, by the looks of it, she was a shady character. She'd appeared out of nowhere behind some van in the parking lot, and—in the process of trying not to get caught, Meiling assumed—she'd looked extremely suspicious in approaching Syaoran's car. And yet, Syaoran had seemed to have no problem with it at all, letting her in immediately and acting as though she were a familiar presence. Meiling was almost certain that in the time he'd spent undocumented without anyone else, he must have been seeing that girl. The thought briefly crossed her mind that, perhaps with the camera, the girl was some sort of reporter, or even a paparazzo—but there was no way, given Syaoran's absolute value of privacy.

Aside from the shock and outrage she felt, there was that twinge of surprise again—the same one she'd felt when she'd caught him on the phone during their meeting a few nights prior. For not only were they merely speaking and exchanging words, but, from Meiling's observations, they were laughing and joking as well. Meiling hadn't seen Syaoran smile so much in such a short timespan in a very long time.

Pursing her lips, she turned the ignition on in her car and resisted the urge to follow them. Curious as she was, she considered herself Syaoran's friend first, and she decided that for the time being, she would wait—albeit not with much patience—to see how this would unfold.

"So is this place your second home or what? I feel like you're always here." Sakura wandered into the now-familiar studio lounge, plopping herself down on a couch and watching Syaoran do the same on the couch opposite her.

"Pretty much," he responded, rifling through the paper bag he'd just set down to pull out a burger wrapped in paper, which he handed to Sakura.

After some bickering over what they should eat, he had succumbed to her idea of driving through a local gourmet burger joint, conceding that it sounded too good to resist.

As he'd said, they had driven immediately to the studio afterwards, and just like the previous times Sakura had been there, Syaoran was the only soul there. He worked many odd hours on his own time, he'd explained, as opposed to the producers, who had set times to come in and work.

They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, although Sakura couldn't help but steal glances at him every once in awhile. While she continued to wonder how she had chanced upon such a bizarre situation, she was beginning to embrace the idea of their friendship, and the novelty of his celebrity was wearing off—a good thing, she thought. It was nice to see him more as a person and less as an untouchable being who kept her around for some kind of morbid amusement—a feeling that, while not dominant, had lingered in the back of her mind since she'd first begun to see him.

And yet, even with all the time she was starting to spend around him, she couldn't solve the mystery. Why was he so open to her, and why did he present himself to her as such a familiar being? While it was reasonable to want to be seen that way, she simply could not figure out why he had chosen her, out of everyone in his massive reach, to pull into his private world.

"Look, I know I'm good-looking and all, but I don't want you to forget to eat and waste away because you've been busy staring at me," Syaoran said, his voice suddenly snapping her out of her thoughts.

Sakura raised her eyebrows in surprise and looked down at her still-wrapped burger, then back over to Syaoran, who had finished his own and was now watching her with a clear look of smug amusement on his face. She hadn't even realized that she'd been looking at him the entire time she'd been thinking.

Blushing furiously and trying to swallow her horror, she stammered out, "You—well, you're not that good-looking! I was daydreaming!"

"Ouch," Syaoran said, but he bit back laughter.

"I was!"

"Daydreaming about me, right?"

"You are so self-absorbed," Sakura spat, but her embarrassment wouldn't allow her to meet his eyes.

Syaoran finally broke into a grin, amused at having caught her watching him but even more amused at making her so flustered. "I'm just teasing you," he said. "But really, eat. You told me you hadn't eaten all day."

"I'm not hungry anymore," she muttered, putting the burger down on the coffee table and sliding it over to him as if to make her point. Of course, at that moment, her stomach chose to growl loudly, and although she hadn't thought it possible, she turned even redder.

"Aw, come on. I didn't mean to embarrass you, you know," Syaoran said, and he pushed the burger back towards her. He was trying even harder not to laugh now. For some reason, he found great amusement in provoking her, possibly because her reactions were so predictably extreme.

Sakura glowered at him for a moment, but she picked up the food and grudgingly began to eat. She tried not to let it show on her face how hungry she'd actually been.

Syaoran leaned back and held his wrist in the air, looking at his watch. "Are you free for the rest of the day, then?"

"I am," she said, defenses lowering a little when she saw he was pursuing normal conversation again. "Are you?"

"Nah. I have to go to some photo shoot later. A real one," he added, smirking.

Sakura scoffed, tired of getting worked up at his teasing. "My candid shoots are better."

She expected him to retaliate, but to her surprise, he gave a resigned shrug. "Can't say I'd argue with that. I might actually prefer those," he muttered.

Sakura raised her eyebrows at that, but she saw his expression grow slightly darker and decided not to pursue it. "Why is it such a late shoot? Won't it be dark?" she asked instead.

"Yeah, that's the idea. Some hilltop at night with an emphasis on the stars in the background and such."

"That sounds kind of nice," she said, smiling.

Syaoran looked over at her, and his face seemed to soften a bit. "Yeah... Maybe it will be."

Sakura was beaming now, happy that she had been able to get rid of that shadow on his face—it had reminded her all too much of his expression on the rooftop the other night, the one she'd found exquisite and unreadable and terribly sad, all at once. She ate the rest of her burger contentedly.

It was Syaoran's turn to watch her in silence now, although he was a bit better about being covert, and he found himself realizing how little he really knew about her. He frowned. That didn't seem right, given how much time they'd been spending together lately.

"Say, Sakura—what's your favorite color?"

"Eh?" Sakura looked up from her food, confused at the sudden question.

"I mean, I just realized I don't really know anything about you at all. You know, aside from your profession and why you chose it, and—well, you must know a lot more about me, given that I'm a cele—"

"Actually, I don't know anything about you, really, either," Sakura said, frowning to herself.

Syaoran nearly fell over at the bluntness of her statement. "You really know how to ground my ego," he muttered.

"Oh," Sakura said in surprise, and then she laughed. "You really are so full of yourself."

"I am not! I'm just used to strangers 'knowing' all of these things about me."

"Does it bother you that I don't?" The thought had never occurred to Sakura before.

"Well..." Syaoran paused to think. "You know, no, not really. It's kind of refreshing."

"I'm glad," Sakura said, smiling. "Besides, this way, it's like a fresh start—now I can just come to know you as I please."

Syaoran's eyebrows shot up, caught off guard and unsure of how to respond to that. Something pleasant bubbled up inside of him, and to his surprise, he felt a smile form on his lips as well. "Well... I've got some time before I need to take you home. Anything you wanna do?"

"I guess anything I suggest needs to involve not going out in public, huh?"

Syaoran grimaced, but he nodded. "That's the general idea."

"Well..." Sakura thought back to the other night, when Tomoyo had put Nightlight in the DVD player and she'd finally seen and heard Syaoran sing through the television screen. "Could you play me a song?"

Syaoran was surprised yet again—he would've expected her to ask him anything else, but he supposed it made sense if she really knew nothing about him as a celebrity. He thought carefully about a song to play her, and for some reason, none of the songs he'd written when he had been in love with Mizuki seemed appropriate. It didn't seem right—perhaps, he thought, because they seemed like songs too private to show someone who was such a stranger. He knew that made no sense, though, since he'd shown these songs to a public who had known every detail about his life. And yet, she looked so eager to hear—somehow more attentive than his biggest fan—that he felt he couldn't let her down. He sighed.

"One second," he said, and he got up and picked a guitar from a row of them sitting to the side of the room beneath the windowsill.

At a loss for an appropriate song choice, he shrugged and decided to play "Stay," the song he'd recorded only a few days prior with Matsura. He tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling that pervaded his mind as he sat down and began to strum the guitar. As he sang the all too familiar words, he hit every note, played every chord correctly, and didn't fumble over any of the lyrics. And yet, as he drew the song to a close, he felt unfulfilled. He hadn't met Sakura's eyes even once through the entirety of the song. This must have been what Matsura was going on and on about that day, he thought.

"I liked it," Sakura said, nodding, but even she seemed unenthused for how excited she'd seemed to hear him play.

Syaoran raised an eyebrow. "That's it? You're killing me today."

Sakura laughed. "Did I wound your ego again?"

Syaoran shrugged, trying not to sound sour. "I don't expect you to fall over in impassioned tears or anything," he said, eliciting a giggle from Sakura. "But it's just an underwhelming reaction if it's your first time hearing me sing."

"Ah. Well, I have a confession... It wasn't my first." Sakura blushed and bit her lip. "I watched one of your movies the other day—Nightlight—and that was the first time I got to hear your voice."

"Ah, jeez. You watched that?" He scratched his head, somewhat embarrassed. It wasn't that he was ashamed of Nightlight—it had been critically acclaimed and he'd been honored to work with the actors of that film, most of them veterans in the industry—but he cringed at his performance in it because, in hindsight, his perfectionism made him feel that he could have done a better job.

Sakura nodded. "I'd never seen any of your films, and my best friend Tomoyo happens to be a big fan of yours, so she brought it over to my house one night so we could watch it." She pursed her lips. "Anyway, something about your performance in that film is so different from what you just sang to me... It's not that what you just played was bad—I just feel like half of your heart wasn't in it," she said slowly, making these realizations as she spoke. "You had such a passion in Nightlight... It was really captivating. I found myself wanting you to be in every scene," she admitted.

Syaoran let out a short exhale and felt a smile forming on his face in spite of himself.

"What? Are you laughing at me?" Sakura said, frowning.

"No, not at all. It's just... That was very intuitive of you." He thought for a moment. "I think I can fix that. Would you mind hearing another song?"

"Of course not!"

He looked warily at her as he prepared to play another song. "This is called 'Diver.' I haven't finished it yet, so... Don't be quick to judge, okay?"

It was against his personal policy to show anyone besides Meiling, Matsura, and his producer any song he hadn't finished, but for some reason, he felt like it would be okay to show her. Somehow, it was preferable to showing her any song he'd released to the public, because for some reason, he felt like she'd understand the words, which were among his vaguer lyrics, the best.

"The horizon drifts away

with the sky too blue to see tomorrow.

These still people struggle to breathe—

When did I become like them?

"I should spill out this sadness.

Wouldn't it be better if I only looked ahead?

Well, I guess I can't take the lead—

but even when I make everyone my enemy,

I'll still feel this light.

If I can get this far, then..."

Syaoran looked up briefly at Sakura as he fervently built his way up to the chorus, and when he caught the fascinated look on her face, he felt a familiar high rush through his veins. This was it. There was something thrilling about playing the perfect song for the right audience, the person or people who would instantly feel as strong a connection with the song as he himself did. He shut his eyes and belted out the chorus, his brow furrowed in emotion and concentration.

"I want to breathe, it's painful here.

When I look up at the dark sky,

I'm suffering, a floating diver.

I want to know that I'm alive...

So let's take one more breath,

let's head down to the ocean one more time."

Syaoran ended the song there, not having written any more, and he let out a long breath of air. "Well? Better?" he said, setting the guitar down.

Sakura's eyes were wide, and a smile lit up her face. "Yes! Oh my God, Syaoran, that was amazing!"

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't have minded hearing that the first time around," he grumbled, but he felt his lips pull into a slight grin. "Thanks."

"No, I mean—it's not even like the song you played before was bad! It was sweet and pretty and you sang it well. But this..." Sakura shook her head. "There was just so much feeling in that song. It was thrilling to watch you play!"

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. It's not done or anything, but I like it a lot better than the single that my record label has chosen so far—the one I sang to you before," Syaoran said, recalling once more how difficult it had been for him to sing "Stay" in the studio and grimacing at the idea of having to sing it over and over for future promotions. Nothing sounded less appealing to him.

"Well, why don't you just ask to sing this one instead?" Sakura asked, frowning. There it was again, that shadow on his face.

Syaoran scoffed. "If only it were that simple."

"But why isn't it? The other song was pretty, but this one is so much more real." She hesitated, as she had never referred to his scandal, even indirectly, to him before, but she continued. "This one is a lot more applicable to your life at present, don't you think? That's why you wrote it, right? And your fans would want something true from you more than just another love song."

For once, Syaoran was quiet at that, and he sat in stone-faced silence for a few moments; Sakura bit her lip, wondering if she'd said the wrong thing.

Finally, after another long few seconds, he looked at her, and to her surprise, he broke into a grin and chuckled. "I thought you weren't supposed to be pop-savvy."

"I—I mean, I guess I'm not," Sakura said, caught off-guard at his laughter. "But it's only common sense!"

He smiled at her earnestness and leaned back in his seat, looking up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head. "Maybe I'll talk to Matsura about changing the single."

"Matsura?"

"The CEO of my record label." Syaoran thought for a moment, and then added, "Kind of like my father."

Sakura smiled. "So he'll listen to you, then?"

"Actually, it's more like our relationship will make it more difficult to convince him," Syaoran said, shaking his head and laughing at the thought. "But I'll try. You're right. I should share a real song, both for my fans and for myself."

"Right!" Sakura said, nodding enthusiastically.

Syaoran leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, and looked at Sakura for a long moment, his expression not entirely readable.

Sakura felt the smile fade off of her face as she watched him watch her with uncharacteristically soft eyes, unable to look away in spite of the long silence between them and the nerves it stirred in the pit of her stomach. In moments like this, it almost felt as though...

She shut her eyes and reopened them, trying to stave off this strange feeling. "Wh-what? Is there something on my face?" she murmured finally, resisting the urge to touch her face and choosing instead to push a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Syaoran shook his head. The grin had faded off of his lips as well, and now he wore a look of solemn intensity that simultaneously made Sakura want to reach out to him and recoil from him. "You just surprise me a lot, that's all."

Sakura frowned. "Is... Is that bad?"

"No," he said softly, looking at her once more. "Not when it comes to you."

She inhaled sharply, blinking a few times in surprise. She was floored, unable to form a response to him—and even if she could have, she was fairly certain that her voice would have shaken embarrassingly, because suddenly, she could feel her heart beating as though she had just run a marathon.

"Well," Syaoran finally said, his voice still quieter than normal and his eyes still trained on her, "I think it's time I took you home."

"Right," Sakura murmured back. She looked down at her watch, needing any kind of excuse to break his gaze. "Right, I should go."

"Sorry," he muttered, standing up and running a hand through his hair, suddenly agitated. "I just—that damn photo shoot, and—"

"No, no. It's really okay," Sakura said, shaking her head. "I, uh... I've got some business to take care of at home, anyway."

They looked at each other for a moment longer, both unsure as to what was happening between them, until Sakura found that she couldn't handle it and pulled her phone out of her pocket to check it. When she looked back up, she saw Syaoran grabbing his keys, and wordlessly, she followed him out the door.

They spent the entire car ride to her apartment in silence.

"Well, thanks for today," Sakura said as they pulled into the parking lot of her apartment, her hand itching to open the door even before the car rolled to a stop. She planned on going straight to her bedroom and hiding under her covers to process all of this as soon as she got inside her building.

"Anytime," Syaoran said, and Sakura made the mistake of looking at him once more—while the electricity between them in the studio had cooled somewhat, seeing his eyes fixed on her, glowing in the fading sunlight, rendered her frustratingly speechless.

"Well, uh..." Sakura swallowed, trying not to sound like an idiot. "I guess till next time?"

Syaoran nodded. "Yeah. I'll text you later, maybe tonight or tomorrow?"

"Sounds good." Sakura turned to get out of the car, and then she turned around briefly to meet his eyes one more time. "Good night, Syaoran."

With that, Sakura hurried out of the car and took the steps two at a time up to her apartment.

Syaoran let out a long sigh. He clutched the steering wheel a bit more tightly with one hand and let his other hang out the window as he drove his way to the field where the photo shoot was to take place.

These evenings spent with Sakura were starting to blend into each other, as all of them seemed to end with both of them having far too much to say and thus saying nothing at all.

Clueless as he could be, Syaoran was not stupid. There was something happening between them, more than just his need to feel normal with someone and her need to fulfill her paparazzo duties. Certainly, they had developed an interesting friendship, but beyond that, what was it?

He thought back to the moments where he'd played for her this afternoon, the taken look on her face and how enthusiastically she'd encouraged him to pursue a single that he actually wanted to promote, her lack of knowledge about the way the industry worked making her all the more earnest. She seemed to genuinely have his own happiness in mind, and in his whole career, he'd met very few people like that.

And then, strangely enough, he kept thinking about Mizuki, but in a context that he could not recognize.

As he thought about the similarities and differences between the two women, he felt a warning go off in his head.

Whatever this nameless thing going on between Sakura and himself was, it was too much, too soon... And yet, Syaoran felt that he had no control over it.

"Syaoran! Jeez, you nearly gave me a heart attack, I thought you weren't going to show! Do you realize you're half an hour late?" Meiling hissed as Syaoran stepped into the makeup tent and sat down in a chair, where two makeup artists immediately went to work.

"Sorry," he muttered tiredly.

Meiling frowned. "You okay?"

Syaoran closed his eyes and nodded. "Yeah, it's just been a long day."

Meiling crossed her arms and raised a brow. "Was it that girl you were with today?"

Syaoran's eyes shot open and he turned his face abruptly towards Meiling, causing one of the makeup artists to accidentally streak concealer across his face. "What did you just say?"

"I saw that girl get in your car today, Syaoran—not a word of this to anyone, or I'll make sure neither of you ever have a job for the rest of your lives," Meiling added menacingly to both of the makeup artists, who nodded fervently and continued their work. She turned back to Syaoran. "Who was she?"

Syaoran's eyes narrowed. "It's none of your business."

Meiling's eyes widened in both fury and exasperation as she glared at him and then around the room, as if the world was watching and felt equally exasperated with him. "I'm asking as your friend, Syaoran, not your damn agent! Since when have you kept things like that from me?"

Syaoran sighed. "Look, it's kind of a complicated situation—"

He paused as a notifier went off on his phone, and he breathed a sigh of relief at a chance to pause the conversation. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and tapped the flashing email sign.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Meiling said, nearly shouting now. "This is the second time you've interrupted me because of your damn phone going off, and—Syaoran?" Meiling watched as Syaoran's eyes turned to saucers and his jaw suddenly clenched. His hand shook ever so slightly, and he was clutching the phone as if he was trying to crush it. "Hey, Syaoran! What is it?"

Syaoran stared in near-disbelief as he saw the subject and sender of the email that had just come into his inbox:

Long time no talk! I miss you — Mizuki Akizawa

Whew! That's it for this chapter. The good news is, I've had part of the next chapter planned out for a very long time, so hopefully, I can churn the rest of it out soon!

The lyrics I used in this chapter were a very liberally translated version of a Japanese pop-rock song, "Diver" by Nico Touches the Walls. They're very vague and open to interpretation, but I believe it's supposed to be that way. It's the eighth opening to Naruto Shippuden, if any of you watch it, and definitely one of my favorite songs! Try looking it up and listening to it. The sound of it and the lyrics are very much something I'd imagine Syaoran to sing in the more rock extremes of his career.

Anyway, Syaoran and Sakura are really falling, eh? But it seems Mizuki is about to inch her way back in... And Meiling is totally onto him! So what happens now? I'm cackling evilly as I type this, in case any of you are curious. Also, once again, if you'd like more updates and whatnot, check out my fic tumblr! Link is on my profile, or my username is boreum-dal. Okay, until next time! Please leave a review, and thank you for reading!

Love,

boreum dal