Orange Moon

by Barbara Sheridan

  Toru lost himself in the moment; it hurt too much to resist and dwell on what he couldn’t have. He shut off his mind and his heart and let his body take control. The lanky drummer had always been a dynamo in bed, and Toru let himself get caught up in the hedonistic pleasure of more sex until they both fell asleep, exhausted from their endeavors.

  Toru barely slept and was up within an hour, his stomach churning, his head aching. He stumbled out into the garden and retched against a newly planted tree. He shoved dirt over the liquid mess, then rinsed his hands in the nearby lily pond. Falling back onto the grass, he looked up at the star-filled sky until exhaustion and sadness pulled him into unconsciousness once more.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Holy shit ...” Yuki froze halfway through the sliding doors at the airport terminal’s exit. The other members crashed into him, smacking their luggage and cases against each other.

  “What’s the hold up, dumb ass?” one of them shouted from the back of the pile up.

  Hideki pushed through and came up behind Yuki. “Get moving, or we’ll miss check-in time at the hotel,” he said sourly. Everything about this trip was so fucked up already, why risk getting stuck here longer?

  “Sorry, princess -- we’re going to be late no matter what.” Yuki pointed past the shuttle vans for the car rental places.

  Dozens -- no, at least a hundred -- girls were lined up against the barricade on the other side of the driveway. Some were holding signs with “SundayEveryday we love you!” painted across the cardboard in English and Japanese; a bunch of others were wearing t-shirts with photos of the boy band. As soon as they saw Yuki pointing at them, they started to scream. Loudly.

  “Holy shit!” Hideki gasped. He whipped around and grabbed Ikeda’s sleeve. “Did you make arrangements to have these girls here?”

  Ikeda stared at the crowd of fans in shock. “No.” He broke into a huge, if not very surprised, grin. “They came on their own!”

  The girls started chanting the band members’ names and applauding in between their screams. It was all so overwhelming; Hideki never imagined getting this kind of attention at an American airport. He turned to go back inside, his face flushed with color. He hated disappointing any fans, but he couldn’t do this now.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Ikeda pulled him back. “Most of them are calling your name.” The manager pushed Hideki and Yuki forward. “Come on, everyone, let’s sign a few autographs before we go!”

  Signing the “few” autographs turned into signing every single one and posing for pictures as well. The guys all loved it. Ikeda loved it. Even that miserable bastard Kutani loved it. And at the hotel it was just as bad -- or good, depending on how you looked at it. They had to enter through the hotel’s underground parking garage then go into the hotel proper through the kitchens and freight elevators.

  Hideki had to admit that it was exactly what he’d been dreaming of his entire life -- fans the world over cheering him, wanting to see and be seen with him. He didn’t want to give it up before it even really started, even if he had no one to share it with.

  But then, as Sato said later when Hideki confided in him, “It hurts now, but you’re better off. You want to be with someone honest, not someone who is going to play that kind of game.”

  “I guess not,” Hideki mumbled.

  “Why did he do that anyway?” Sato dropped down to the floor and propped his feet up on the hotel bed.

  Hideki leaned back against the headboard and stared out the window at the California coastline below. He shrugged. “I dunno,” he said listlessly.

  “It’s messed up, Hide-kun.” Sato scratched the top of his head. “But at least it’s over already -- before you got hurt.”

  “Yeah,” Hideki whispered. “Right.”

  * * * * *

  The following evening, ChildsPrey gathered at Jun’s house just outside Tokyo to go through their catalogue of songs and choose the set list for their appearance to close out the week-long convention. Jun’s wife had been watching a show on the enormous plasma TV in the living room and was about to switch it off when an entertainment segment on the talk show came on.

  “Leave it on a minute, please,” Toru said.

  Kyoru groaned when a chorus of teenaged girls’ screams rang out through the surround sound system. “Ugh. Who wants to see that?”

  “Me,” Toru said flatly. He leaned forward on the chair to watch as the girls waiting at the Los Angeles airport mobbed Hideki. Toru smiled sadly, knowing what an amazing rush that kind of fan adoration was. Hideki deserved to taste it for a long time to come. “You can turn it off now.”

  Imai hit the remote. “I’m glad we don’t have those shrieking little girl fans. They give me a headache, even long distance.”

  “No, we have the older, crazier fans,” Koji said with a grin, pointing to Jun’s laptop. They all gathered around the chair to watch Koji scroll through an American ChildsPrey fan site and the many, many pictures of cosplayers -- fans dressing up in the outrageous things they’d worn on stage back in the first two years they became a group.

  “Ugh.” Kyoru groaned louder than before. “That cow is not me. I mean, ugh. I would never wear cheap satin like that!”

  The other guys laughed and began looking for other American sites and message boards dedicated to them. Toru wandered into the kitchen and asked Rumiko for a can of soda.

  “No wine today?

  “Nah. Kyoru and I have been drinking way too much lately.”

  “Are you and he ...?”

  Toru shook his head. “Together? No, not like that. But we hang out.”

  He remembered the taste of Kyoru’s cum and had some trouble swallowing down his mouthful of cola.

  “It’s good not to be lonely, I suppose.” Rumiko offered him a small smile.

  Toru forced down the drink and leaned against the kitchen island where Rumiko was chopping some fresh daikon. “We drink together to kill time. That’s all that matters.” That was true about everything he and Kyoru did together, he guessed. They sucked each other off for “fun” more than anything else. Love wasn’t part of their arrangement and never would be.

  “But it’s nice to have a close friend.” Rumiko didn’t look up from the radish on the cutting board. “Someone you can trust and be open with.”

  Toru crushed the empty can in his fist. “Yeah,” he said dully. He had nothing in common with Kyoru other than their lust back in the early years of the band and now this fling. Their interests and dreams were about as far apart as Toru could imagine them being.

  Everything became quiet in the kitchen, and Toru only just realized Rumiko had stopped chopping the daikon and was staring at him.

  “Toru, why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

  He knew damn well who she meant, but pretended not to anyway. “Because Kyoru already knows it’s only about the sex.”

  Rumiko stared at him with her big brown eyes, not once showing a hint that she believed his evasion.

  “I can’t make a bigger deal about things than they are ... and risk hurting his career. Being involved in a relationship like this isn’t the best publicity.” Bitterness made his tone harsher than he’d intended.

  “You’d rather risk breaking his heart?”

  “There’s no chance of that happening.” Toru tossed the can into the recycling bin under the sink. “Things are better this way ... he knows that. I’m sure he let his management people know he didn’t want to be bothered, and that’s why they sent their letter.”

  Rumiko nodded as her husband’s voice rang out.

  “Toru, get your skinny ass in here, and let’s get to work!”

  * * * * *

  ChildsPrey’s arrival in Los Angeles was quieter than SundayEveryday’s, as they hadn’t had that much advance press, and that was fine by Toru. Still, they were greeted by an exec from the indie company handling their US CD release as well as by Ryuhei Nakamura, the legendary Japanese producer who’d given them the
ir first big break.

  It was weird, but Toru felt Ryuhei’s attention upon him even though the producer wore dark sunglasses and carried on conversations with the others. Shifting his guitar case to his other hand, Toru tried to concentrate on the US tour coordinator’s recap to their manager. “Since you guys are bigger than Revolution, we decided to book the Waltham Theater. It holds close to four thousand and should sell out by tomorrow. You guys will close out the convention on Sunday night. The other days we plan to have some small indie bands, and we’re having three shows by that boy band, SundayEveryday at the Omni, near the convention center.”

  Toru felt his stomach sink to the floor. SundayEveryday would be performing at this convention too. Their press back home said they were doing a music industry show. Damn it -- hopefully the two bands wouldn’t cross paths for the duration of the four-day convention.

  “Is there going to be an opening act?” Toru interrupted the manager’s explanation of how the stage was going to be set up for rehearsal tomorrow evening.

  “For you guys?” The manager shook his head. “Nope.”

  “Only ChildsPrey will be on stage to shine that night,” Ryu added, the weight of his stare hitting Toru even from behind the dark glasses.

  Toru looked away with a short sigh of relief. Thank God. The only thing that could’ve made this trip to America worse was standing off stage and having to listen to Hideki live, each note of every song brought to life with the haunting power of the young man’s voice.

  * * * * *

  “I don’t want to do Orange Moon,” Toru said in no uncertain terms as they tuned their instruments in the cavernous concert hall.

  “We all agreed on this back home,” Jun said. “You were there; you didn’t say a word.”

  “I guess I missed that part.”

  “Maybe you were too busy checking out Kyoru’s crotch,” Koji quipped.

  Toru reached over and snatched a drumstick from Kyoru’s hand and whaled it at the guitarist’s head.

  “Hey!” Jun said. “Cut the shit! What is wrong with you?”

  Toru took off his bass and set it aside. “I just don’t want to do that fucking song, all right? I wrote it. I decide if we play it.”

  Koji rubbed the back of his head. “It was just a fucking joke, okay? I didn’t mean anything by it. We have to play that. I’ve been checking out those fan sites and message boards. They love that song here. The crowd will go crazy for it.”

  “Yeah,” Jun said. The others agreed.

  Toru glowered, then told them to start the practice without him. He was going out for a cigarette.

  While they waited for Toru to cool off and come back, Jun took the opportunity to call his wife before she went to sleep. “He’s okay, I guess, making us all a little crazy, though. Yeah, that kid is playing this event, too. Not with us, of course, but he’s here.”

  Jun pulled the phone away from his ear a moment and stared at it. “You’re crazy, right? I am not getting involved in that mess. Believe me, it’s better they stay as far away from each other as possible. We don’t need to get involved in any legal crap with those Nippon bastards. They’re sharks.” Jun sighed. “I’ll think about it, okay? Goodnight. I love you.”

  He shook his head as he put the phone away. He’d think about it for a second. “There. Done.”

  * * * * *

  Hideki dropped onto the bed the moment he got out of the shower. He ached all over from the endless hours of practicing the dance moves for their big show tomorrow. He stared over at the large window and at the full moon. “We’re going to be too damn tired to do a decent show.”

  “Don’t say that,” Sato said, rubbing a bit of gel into his damp hair. “We have to do good. I heard some movie people are coming to see us. We might get a part in that new Jet Li thing. I heard there are some scenes in a big nightclub, and they’re trying to figure out who to use as background entertainment. I think they’re coming to mainly see you.”

  Hideki sighed and sat up. “This is not my idea, you know. I’m not trying to steal all the attention.”

  Sato shrugged. “We’ve been friends since junior high. I’m just happy you talked me into trying out for the Nippon Juniors when you did. I’m pretty happy with my little bunch of fans.” He pointed to the flowers and stuffed animals on his side of the room. They paled in comparison to the many things scattered on the floor and desk on Hideki’s side.

  “You’re meeting with Nakamura-san tomorrow morning, right? To talk to him about helping mix the rest of your solo CD?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe I can tag along? I always wanted to meet him.”

  Hideki smiled, or at least tried to. “Sure.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Damn it, Toru -- could you at least act like you give a shit?” Imai put the microphone back into place on its stand and glared at the bassist. “That’s the flattest, most soulless bass line ever.”

  “Like you’re such a goddamn perfect performer, Mister ‘too drunk to remember the lyrics at the Zepp Osaka show last year,’” Toru muttered under his breath. He reached for a cigarette from the back pocket of his jeans. “Shit.” The pack was empty ... again. How many a day was he smoking now? Whatever.

  He crumpled the cardboard up into a wad and tossed it to the stage. The little ball rolled right up to Imai’s feet, and the vocalist lost what was left of his cool.

  “Can you get your head out of your ass long enough to think about someone other than yourself?” Imai demanded.

  Toru gave him the finger. This argument had gotten old back in Japan, and after two days here in America, guess what? It was still old.

  “Sorry, I meant get your head out of that fucking kid’s ass.”

  “I’m sick of your shit, Imai.” Toru unstrapped the bass from his shoulder and let it hit the floor. “Come on.”

  “Enough!” Jun shouted from his spot on stage opposite Koji. “Fuck -- I’m sick of this shit! Everyone, get the hell off Toru’s back and just focus on the music. The concert’s tomorrow night, and we don’t have time for this.”

  Toru turned to go backstage. “I’m done for today.”

  “Toru --”

  “I’m getting a fucking cigarette!” he shouted over his shoulder as he passed by Kyoru at the drums.

  “I’ve got one, Toru,” the drummer said quietly.

  “I want the quiet, too.” Toru slipped behind the black curtain and made his way out the back.

  Instead of going back to the hotel or hitting one of the bars he and Kyoru had found last night, he found himself in front of the second stage hosting the convention’s performers. SundayEveryday’s concert had already started, but there was still a crowd of fans outside waiting for any possible opening of a seat inside.

  “Just keep walking,” Toru whispered to himself. And he did -- right into the venue through the back entrance for musicians. The anime con’s entertainment coordinator was in the back and recognized him, giving security the all right to let Toru come in.

  “Thanks for coming.” The coordinator grinned cheerfully. She was a plump, friendly woman about Toru’s height who held on to their handshake a little too long. Or maybe it was just his mood bringing things down.

  He asked for the very thing he’d told himself earlier he didn’t want -- to see Hideki performing live. “Is it okay if I watch the stage from back here?” His heart was already in pieces; it didn’t matter if the shards got stepped on a little bit more.

  “Sure.” The woman smiled and led him to a quiet area off stage left where he had a perfect, unobstructed view of the boy band as they completed one of their flashier numbers. It was a catchy new disco-esque song that had half of the people in the audience bobbing along to the pulsing rhythm.

  It was obvious that Hideki was the real star of the group, though the other boys had their supporters in the crowd. It was Hideki whose voice carried above the others. It was Hideki who danced with so much passion and sexual allure as he swiveled those lean hip
s to the pulsing beat.

  Toru sank back against the wall, his cock growing hard, his heart aching to know that he’d never share that passion the way he wanted to. That night at the onsen it had been so much more than a blowjob. Even being on the giving end had given him such satisfaction. The kind he hadn’t known in years.

  He kept watching the performance, remembering it as the same show they’d done when he’d taken his youngest cousin and her friends to see them. He ducked out of the way when the current song neared the end because he knew Hideki would dash off stage to do a costume change. Toru had to bite his tongue to stifle the sound when he saw Hideki change. What he wouldn’t give to be the one helping to bathe his perspiring body with a cool cloth. What a rich man he’d feel like to be on the receiving end of that warm, heartfelt smile.

  He couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t watch anymore, and yet he was powerless to leave. So he shrank back further until the stage was out of sight and only the music -- only Hideki’s beautiful, rich voice touched him.

  Toru stayed through the rest of the show and the two short encores. While SundayEveryday was still onstage accepting the loud cheers and applause of their fans, Toru let himself out the side exit. He would’ve loved to congratulate Hideki for the great concert. The young man had put so much soul into each note, each word of the lyrics. Toru snorted at himself -- the same things he couldn’t put into his own performance as a bassist were what he loved the most about Hideki’s.

  Some of the bitterness was gone from Hideki’s stage presence also. Maybe the young man wasn’t as angry as he’d been before ... maybe he could forgive Toru for the lies after all.

  Not only was it a stupid hope, but a pointless one. Toru saw the reason for Hideki’s rise in spirits bounce past him on the way out the exit.

  If Ayumi Harada recognized Toru, she didn’t show it at all. In fact, she hardly seemed to notice him as she stopped in front of the security guard and flashed a backstage pass. “I’m here to see my fiancé!”

  Toru watched over his shoulder as the man let her by. A few moments later, he heard Ayumi cry out, “Oh, Hideki -- you were amazing!” He imagined the two lovers embracing, and that’s when it finally, really hit him.