“Huh?” Jun took off his sunglasses and glanced back at Toru. “What the hell is he -- hey!”
Toru dropped the wineglass on the tabletop, splashing the red liquid all over the front of Jun’s pants.
“I’m so sorry!” Toru gasped. Grabbing one of the napkins from the table, Toru shoved it into Jun's hand. “I just get so nervous around people I’ve never met before,” he muttered.
Jun winced and backed away. “No need to apologize, Ryoko-san, is it? I’d better get back to my wife. Enjoy your meal. I’m sure I’ll see you both again sometime.”
Laughing nervously, Toru folded his hands on the table. “I sure messed up my chance for an autograph, didn’t I?”
“I bet he won’t take it personally.” Hideki gave Toru a worried-looking grin. He took a sip of his wine and made sure to place the glass far from Toru’s reach. “Is everything okay?”
“Wonderful.” Toru was practically sweating bullets. “Shall we switch to a clean table?”
“Okay.”
Hideki and Toru got up and moved while the tablecloth on their original table was replaced.
“I’m sorry about that,” Hideki said. “I have no idea what he was going on about.”
Toru forced a smile. “It’s quite all right.” If Hideki had caught onto the ruse that seemed even more transparent than it had before, at least he was being a good sport about it in public. “It was all my fault. I’m so stupid sometimes.”
Hideki reached across the round table and took his hand. “Don’t say such things. It was an accident.”
“I make too many mistakes, it seems, these days.”
“I know exactly how you feel,” Hideki said quietly, letting go of Toru’s hand.
The waiter came to take their order and they passed the time with bland small talk.
Their meal was brought over, and Toru waited until the server left to speak. “Something’s bothering you. What is it? Did the photo shoot not go well?”
“The photo shoot was ... okay.” Hideki rubbed his finger over the top of his still-full wineglass. “I guess.”
Toru frowned and looked at Hideki’s hands on the table, just out of reach. “It’s nothing that has to do with your music or career, is it?”
“Am I that shitty a liar, or do you really know me that well?” He looked up, giving Toru a small, melancholy smile.
“You’re a bad liar,” Toru teased him, and Hideki chuckled.
“Actually, I know exactly what you feel like, Hideki,” Toru added after a moment. He bit his lower lip and looked down at the napkin he twisted around his finger. “That’s making this pretty hard to say.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m leaving Tokyo,” Toru whispered. “I’m going back home.”
“Oh. But you just moved in.”
Ryoko looked up. “I know, but I was fooling myself. About a lot of things. They were right, those people who said I was too old to start modeling.”
“They’re crazy,” Hideki said. “I might be able to help you. I bet Ayumi’s dad can use you in his magazine for an ad or something. And they use models on the Nippon covers sometimes. The new group debuting -- Volumize -- is going to be doing a big cover and photo shoot soon --”
“Hideki-kun, please. I appreciate the offer, but we both know it’s useless. I’m not fit for any of it. I’m just not.”
Hideki withdrew by paying exquisite attention to his meal. He just didn’t know what to say. The loss of words emphasized the distance he felt between himself and Ryoko.
“I’m not leaving for good until the twenty-ninth,” Ryoko said. “I have to go away for a few days the day after tomorrow, but I’ll be back.”
“Okay.” Hideki slowly ate his meal without glancing up.
“Maybe we can do lunch or something?”
“Maybe. I might be busy. They’re letting me do the US tour, so I have to get ready. Rehearsals and all.”
“Of course.”
“Damn it.” Toru pushed his own plate away rested his forehead in his palm. “This is so fucked up,” he muttered under his breath, hating himself for everything and anything. If he’d known all this would have happened, he never would’ve bothered going up to Hideki that night and asking for a cigarette just to have the chance to talk to him.
“It would’ve been better if we’d never met at all.” Toru cradled his face in his hands, not even caring if his makeup was smudged in the process.
“Please don’t. Don’t say that. Don’t even think it, Ryoko.”
Toru looked across the table to see the younger man staring back at him, dead serious even with all the pain and confusion in his eyes.
“But it’s true,” Toru insisted, his voice almost too hoarse to modulate.
“Wait ...”
Toru looked up, saw the hint of recognition in Hideki’s eyes and died on the spot. “Hideki-kun --”
“Well, well, what have we here? Still the ugliest man whore in the stable, even after all these years.”
Fuck. Toru turned and glared up at the one person in the world he hated beyond measure. It was his old bandleader from Gothic deSade, the imperious, “worship at my feet, you peons,” Miji Makana.
Hideki stood.
Toru jumped up from the table, putting himself between that son of a bitch, Miji, and Hideki. “I think I better just go,” he mumbled, keeping his back to Miji. “This hasn’t been the best night at all. I’m so sorry.”
Hideki placed a hand on Toru’s bare shoulder and stepped around him to get right in Miji’s face.
“Hideki -- don't!”
“Apologize,” Hideki growled at Miji. “Now.”
Miji cackled, the sound making the hairs on the back of Toru’s neck stand on end with pure hatred for the egotistical fuck. “Are you talking about that?” Miji snorted. “Oh, please! If the whore has the audacity to wear that dress in public, the only people who deserve an apology are the ones who have to see that shapeless skank.”
“The only skank and whore I see is standing right in front of me,” Hideki snarled. “You’ve got some hell of a nerve coming over and talking to us that way.”
Chapter Nine
The restaurant manager scurried over and attempted to defuse the situation, his calm pleas going unheeded by Miji. “Tell me, this boy doesn’t have a clue, does he?”
Miji cackled again, just the way he’d done when he personally delivered the news to Toru that their drummer, Minoru, had died while Toru had been out of the country taking his parents to America to visit relatives. I would have called, but the time difference is a bitch, Miji had explained.
“Let’s get out of here, Hideki,” Toru said, barely keeping his hold on “Ryoko’s” tone.
“Before you go, Toru, I must ask, do you still have the red leather corset and garters you used to wear onstage? Do you wear them when he fucks you?”
The words had barely made it past Miji’s black-painted lips when Toru’s fist collided with his jaw.
“Oh, God. I should have known ...”
Trying to shake off the pain, Toru turned to Hideki who’d gone ghostly pale. “Hideki --”
The younger man turned and rushed away, pausing only long enough to stuff some money into the maitre d’s hand to cover the cost of the disastrous meal.
Suddenly Jun was at Toru’s side, grabbing his hand and examining it. “That’s your playing hand, you ass. We have those fan club-only concerts in two days. We can’t cancel them.”
Toru shoved his friend away. “Leave me alone!” He strode out of the restaurant and around the building to the parking area only to see Hideki speeding out the exit across the lot.
“To-chan, what in the world is going on?” It was Jun’s wife.
Toru rubbed his sore hand, his gaze still focused on the place where Hideki’s car had disappeared into the night. “I’ve been asking myself that a lot lately.”
Jun came up behind them, cursing under his breath. “Damn, Toru -- I’d love to beat the shit out of that Miji asshole,
too, but what the hell is going on with you?”
Rumiko put her arm around Toru’s shoulders. “Now’s not the time.”
“The hell it isn’t -- what if that shit back there calls the police?” Jun signaled for the valet to bring their car around. “That’s going to be fucking great -- bailing the band’s cross-dressing bassist out of jail right before our tour.”
“Jun -- stop it!” Rumiko snapped, surprising both men in the process. “Come on, Toru.” She guided him to the car as the valet pulled up to the curb. “We’ll take you home and worry about this mess tomorrow.”
“I’ll call a cab,” Toru said flatly.
“The hell you are.” Jun squeezed his shoulder, no longer the pissy band mate but a concerned friend. “And I still want to know what’s going on -- why you were with Hideki-kun wearing this disguise.”
* * * * *
Toru refused to discuss it, but it was clear enough. Jun and Rumiko sat in the car and watched Toru trudge into his building.
“He’s crushed,” Rumiko said. “He must really love that guy.”
Jun nodded. “They had a definite chemistry in the studio, so I’m not surprised. But to dress up like a girl --”
“People do crazy things when they’re in love, remember?”
“I do,” Jun said, taking his wife’s hand and recalling the lengths he’d gone to to appear everything but the wild, tattooed rock musician when he’d been around Rumiko’s ultra-traditional parents.
Rumiko laid her head on his shoulder. “There has to be something we can do. Some way we can help.”
“We shouldn’t get involved. If it goes wrong, it will screw things up for the band. Let’s face it; our fan base isn’t quite as loyal as it once was. This could hurt us.” He winced when his wife punched his arm.
“This is Toru’s happiness we’re talking about, not your fame.”
“I know, but --”
“You hush. I’m having lunch with Sasao soon. We’ll figure something out.”
* * * * *
Toru rubbed his bandaged hand as his manager and lawyer conferred over a sheaf of papers. “The bitch didn’t have me arrested for assault, so he must want to extort money from me, right?”
“You did strike him in the face and you know how he is about his appearance,” the lawyer said.
Toru smirked and held up his hand. “He’s got so much makeup plastered on him and who knows how much silicone injected in him these days, it was like hitting a brick wall.”
The lawyer sighed. “Perhaps, but you did strike him.”
“I was provoked. Jun and his wife were there; they can tell you.”
“But you struck first.”
Shaking his head, Toru got up and went to look out the office window. “How much?”
“One hundred million yen.”
Toru spun. “What? For one punch?”
Both the lawyer and manager nodded. “Makana-san’s attorney has indicated that they may be willing to settle for less.”
“I bet they will. The bitch hasn’t made a dime on his music in years. If it wasn’t for the fucking Lolli-Goth clothes he pushes, he’d be broke.” He turned back to the window and stared toward the east, certain he could see the roof of Hideki’s apartment building. He wanted to take it to court, but he’d brought Hideki enough grief. With a defeated sigh, Toru turned. “Pay the bitch what it takes to make him go away. I can afford it, right?”
His manager nodded. “We may need to sell some of your stocks.”
“Fine. I have to get to practice. We’ve got the mini-tour kicking off in a couple days.”
“One more thing, Toru.” The manager sighed. “The media’s already caught wind of what happened in the restaurant.”
“Shit,” Toru sighed. “More pictures?”
“No, thank God. But there’s more than enough rumor going around to do some damage.”
“Fuck them.” Toru waved off his manager’s concern. He didn’t give a crap about any of it anymore. Hell, he felt bad enough to just blow off the damn tour, but couldn’t bring himself to disappoint the fans.
“Like you’ve been doing to Hideki Sakae?” The lawyer rested his elbows on the glass top of his desk and raised an eyebrow.
“I didn’t just hear that, did I?” Toru glared at the man, who come to think of it, was a rather cocky son of a bitch not too much older than Toru himself and way too proud of his law degree.
The lawyer snorted. “Maybe it’ll sound sharper coming from Hideki’s manager. Or better yet, Nippon Entertainment’s legal staff. They sent us a letter by courier this morning to ‘ask’ that you leave their client alone. Basically, they want to --” He sorted through the papers on his desk and held one up. “Preserve Hideki’s status as a single, very heterosexual young man.”
“I don’t fucking believe this.” Toru clenched his jaw. But truthfully, he did. He’d always known about the risk to Hideki’s career ...
Shit.
* * * * *
“Hideki! Listen to Ikeda-san and Harada-san!”
“I am,” he mumbled, still slumped low in the wide leather chair in the rear of Harada-san’s office at Pop. His mother rambled on some more about his recent lack of respect and good judgment, then went back to brainstorming with his manager and Ayumi’s father.
Apparently they needed to save his “threatened career,” and he really didn’t give a fuck. He got up and headed for the door.
“Hideki! What are you doing? Don’t you leave!”
He glared at his mother. “You decide ‘what’s best,’ and I’ll do it like I always do, okay? I need to get out of here. I have a song I’m working on.”
“Ayumi is outside. Take her with you. It will be good for your image,” Harada said.
Hideki replied with a resentful look, but said nothing.
“I’m bored,” Ayumi said, kicking her foot against the counter in Hideki’s kitchen. “Can’t we go to the amusement park instead of just sit here?”
“I’m busy,” he said erasing a few of the notes he’d written and replacing them.
“But I’m bored.”
He threw down his pencil. “I don’t care! Go yourself, then.”
She pouted. “But you’re supposed to be my boyfriend.”
“It’s all bullshit, and you know it.”
“I’ll tell my father.”
Glaring, Hideki tossed his cell phone at her. “Go ahead.”
She pouted again. “You’re so mean.”
“Whatever.” Hideki rifled through his backpack and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
“That’s bad for your voice, isn’t it? And it will be nasty if you kiss me.”
“I have no plans to do that, Ayumi.”
She gave him a harsh look, and he went out to the balcony. He could see his yellow sports car below, the dent still in the roof, and his mind filled with images of Ryoko. He was so angry at Toru -- and at himself for being too fucking stupid to notice. But ... they did have fun together in those few days. And surely Toru wasn’t totally faking the friendship, was he? It had seemed so real, so right.
Like any of that mattered. Hideki tossed his cigarette into the small sand pail at his feet and went back inside. Ayumi was watching a movie on television, so he took his guitar and things and went to his room, locking the door behind him.
He grabbed the sheet of music he’d been writing, crushing the paper in his hand. Even if the way he felt about his friendship with Ryoko wasn’t a lie, the idea that he and Toru could actually be together was. Everything had spiraled so out of control, there was no going back to fix things or set them right.
Ryoko -- Toru -- had said it best. “Things would’ve been better if we’d never met at all,” Hideki whispered. He took out a new sheet of paper and the notes of a song poured straight out of his broken heart.
* * * * *
“The kid is in the studio next door. Why don’t you go talk to him?”
Toru looked up at Jun, his expression saying it all.
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Jun raised his hands in submission. “It was just an idea.” He cleared his throat and turned to the other guys, who were coming into the studio from their break. “Let’s take that last one from the top again.”
Though Toru’s mind was elsewhere, he played the notes required, just as he’d done in those early weeks after Minoru’s death. He took his time putting his bass away while the others packed up and left.
“The kid left, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jun said, poking his head back in.
Toru didn’t bother to reply. He lingered a bit longer, then walked out only to pause by the open door of the sound room to the studio Hideki had been using. He tapped on the door and made himself smile at the engineer. “Mind if I get a quick listen?”
“No.” The engineer handed Toru the headphones. “This one is good. I think the kid has two hit singles coming out between this and the one you guys helped him with.”
Hideki’s song was incredible, and it hit Toru hard. Very hard, because he knew that the anger expressed in the song was all directed at him.
So lost in you
Angry fool
Too blind to see
Pity me
Run away
Take flight
Don’t come back
Too blind to see
Pity me
So lost in you
Angry fool
Toru felt a tear trickle down his cheek and realized only then that he was crying. He removed the headphones.
“It’s a powerful song, isn’t it?” the sound engineer said.
“Yeah,” Toru mumbled, rubbing the back of his hand under his eyes to clear away the moisture. He was such a fuck up ... he had no right to cry after everything that had happened. If only he could bring himself to apologize to Hideki, to try and explain why he’d pretended to be a woman. But the thought that he’d have to endure the hurt, betrayed look on Hideki’s face was too much to bear.
“This Sakae kid is going to be a huge hit.” The engineer started closing down for the evening, turning off pieces of equipment and dimming the lights in the recording box.
Yes ... as long as I stay out of his way. Toru sighed.
Orange Moon Page 8
