Seduction Game (Art and Soul)

by Candy J. Starr

  “So sorry, Audrey-san. That is not possible.”

  The woman was like a machine. Going on and on with her “not possible”. It was totally possible. She just had to make a few phone calls and find someone. She was lazy and stupid. All that talk at orientation about “come and talk to me if you have any issues, we can work together to make this your best year ever” was just talk. They were all hunky dory if it was about sushi-making parties or looking at stupid cherry trees, but when it was a real issue, they were just fucking useless.

  “I’ll leave and find somewhere on my own.”

  “That’s not so easy, Audrey-san. Not many people want to rent to foreigners. You would need a Japanese guarantor. Do you know any Japanese people who would do that?”

  Since the only Japanese people I knew other than the Tachibanas were the other students in my class, I had no one. It seemed stupidly complicated to me. I was only asking anyway since I had no money to pay rent.

  “Also, the school needs to approve of your accommodation, for your visa. If you find a place, we will need to inspect it.”

  She was kidding, right? Like I was too stupid to find a place on my own.

  I’d just get high blood pressure talking to this woman. If she couldn’t help me, I’d find someone who would. She didn’t let me go so easily, though. She asked about how my classes were going and about my health and a heap of other stupid questions. I tried to answer as quickly as I could so I could get out of there.

  When I got to the cafeteria, Ingrid met up with me.

  “It’s no good. They won’t even help me. She acted like I made the whole thing up.”

  “That’s shit. Let’s get blotto. I got paid yesterday for my teaching, I’ll shout the drinks.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  We walked to the nearest bar. It was a crappy little place but the drinks were cheap and other customers didn’t bother you. The bar was down some stairs below the street and, even in the middle of the afternoon, was dark and gloomy. That suited my mood perfectly.

  “You could always do it. How much money are they offering anyway?”

  “Shit, Ingrid. I can’t ‘just do it’. Blerk. My stomach turns.”

  “You’re attracted to him.”

  Why the hell would she think that? Had I ever given one indication that Junichi did anything but annoy me?

  “No way. I have not the slightest tinge of attraction to that jerk. He’s a hell beast. Even if every girl on campus wants to get in his pants, I’m not in that queue. Hey, do you think he’s gay?”

  The barman put two beers down in front of us.

  “Who knows? It’s hard to tell with Japanese guys.”

  “It’d explain a lot. I mean it’s not like he’s without chances. He has a whole fan club on campus. Girls literally swoon over him. He’s rich and not ugly but he’s —”

  Hell, what did those people think I could do anyway? I couldn’t even start a seduction attempt. It’d be like trying to thaw an iceberg.

  “The money for sex thing is weird. I had one of my students offer me extra cash for ‘private lessons’. He actually said that in this voice that he thought was sexy but just made me vomit in my mouth. But he was like 50 years old and droopy.”

  “I need to make money. Legit money. Can you get me some teaching work?”

  “It’s not that easy, you know. And you only get paid monthly, so that would be a whole month before you got any cash in. By that time, it’d be almost time to go home.”

  “I can’t stay in that house.”

  I’d almost packed my bags after my shower last night but I had nowhere to go. I could only manage on my scholarship money because I didn’t have to pay rent. I’d had to buy all new art supplies when I’d arrived and that had cost a fortune.

  “Maybe they were just testing you out and they’ll have forgotten all about it when you get home tonight.”

  “I can only wish.”

  I didn’t think so, though. They had seemed deadly serious when they spoke to me. I wondered what was wrong with Junichi that he couldn’t get a girlfriend on his own. I didn’t want to get close enough to find out.

  CHAPTER 8

  I’m not sure how it happened. A few drinks had led to a few more, then another bar where we met a couple of guys and ended up drinking with them. The only Japanese people I’d met so far had been from my university, but these guys were nothing like them. One of them ran a skate shop and the other one worked in a cafe. They definitely didn’t have that stick up their arse attitude.

  You’d think, being an art student would be a ticket to meeting weirdos and freaks and other fun people anywhere in the world but, for all my school was meant to be so fantastic, there were about 10% of students who actually had talent and were focused. The other 90% were mainly chicks wanting some stop-gap thing to do before getting married. It was more like marriage training school. They wanted to meet guys who had prospects. And, to be honest, they spent more time painting their faces than any canvas.

  Good luck to them, if that’s what they wanted but, to be honest, they weren’t my kind of people. We had nothing in common.

  “We’re going to a live house, want to come along?” the skate guy asked.

  “Live house?”

  “You know, bands, that kind of thing.”

  “A gig?”

  “Yeah, same thing.”

  I looked at Ingrid and she nodded. It wasn’t like I was in any hurry to get home.

  The four of us left the bar and headed to the station. On the way, we ducked into a convenience store to grab some more beers. At least booze was cheap here.

  By the time we arrived, I was in a happy, floaty place. I had no idea where we were but the whole vibe seemed a lot cooler than the neighbourhood where the Tachibanas lived or around campus. The whole issue with the Tachibanas seemed not such a big deal. Something would turn up to solve things. These guys seemed nice, maybe they had a spare room. I could crash on their floor or something. I’d be okay.

  We grabbed a standing table and got more beers. The place was a bit of a dive bar, in a good way. A bunch of tables like ours around the outside of the room and a much more fun crowd than I was used to. My hair and outfit blended in here rather than marking me as an outsider. I relaxed more than I had since arriving in the country, and it wasn’t just from the drinks.

  The space in the middle of the room was mainly empty, with just a couple of people dancing.

  “They’re our friends on stage,” the skater guy said.

  I gave the stage a glance. They were a ska band. Five guys and a chick who played the saxophone. They weren’t bad, but not earth-shattering by any means. Still, the music was happy and fun. With the beers flowing and everyone joking around, my bad mood had completely vanished.

  They didn’t play for long. Maybe about half hour after we arrived, they finished up and introduced the next band. A couple of the guys came over to join us.

  “Check out this next band. They are going places,” one of the guys said.

  I nodded but didn’t really care that much about the music. I was more interested in drinking and having fun. The band was just background noise.

  Ingrid got back from the bar, balancing a round of beers. She slid them onto the table, nudging away the empty glasses and other crap covering it.

  “Hey, isn’t that your host brother?” she said. She nodded toward the stage.

  I laughed. Yeah, like he’d set foot in a place like this. Junichi was the kind to go to fancy bars on the 50th floor of some building with views over the city and where the drinks started at like $1000 a glass. Those bars that have someone tinkling out an inoffensive tune on a grand piano. He so would not be somewhere with a band setting up on a battered stage. He had that whole classical music thing going on.

  I turned around to check, just to prove her wrong. I’d mock the hell out of her.

  There were two shortish guys setting up, one weedy and the other a bit stocky.

  “Go home,
Ingrid. You’re drunk. Those guys look nothing like Junichi.”

  “Who’s Junichi?” the cafe guy asked.

  “The son of my super weird host family. He’s a total jerk.”

  Ingrid grabbed my arm. “Not those guys, the one coming back out on stage with the guitar.”

  I turned again.

  And, oh my god, that guy with the guitar looked a helluva lot like Junichi. If Junichi had an identical twin brother and they’d been separated at birth, and that other twin had normal parents, then that guy on stage would be him. He had Junichi’s looks and great bone structure but without any of that snotty attitude.

  The guy tuning his guitar had hair the same length as Junichi’s but the fake had amazing hair, the kind of hair you wanted to have sex with.

  The sleeves of the t-shirt were rolled up like he wanted to scream “look at my arms, these are the most amazing arms you’ve ever seen in your life. Don’t you just want to lick them?” I’d never seen Junichi’s arms so I couldn’t say if they were the same arms. But surely I couldn’t have lived in the same house with those arms without noticing?

  Well, okay, I’d seen his forearms and they’d been kinda hot but I’d not thought about how those forearms connected to the rest of his body.

  Wow, if the Tachibana’s had wanted me to sleep with the Junichi twin, I’d have really considered it.

  The band started and I lost track of the conversation going on around me as the fake Junichi played. In his own world, he didn’t move much but the way his hip jutted against the guitar had something obscene about it. Or maybe it was just my mind making it seem that way. No, it definitely had some sex vibe going on.

  I tried to look at the other guys in the band, the one playing bass and sharing the vocals and the one playing drums, but my gaze constantly darted back to fake Junichi.

  The fake had his own arrogance but it was a sexy arrogance, not annoying like the real Junichi. He definitely wasn’t a guy who needed to have his parents offer anyone cash to fuck him. The whole way he moved was nothing like Junichi. Those kinds of things don’t change so easily.

  A lock of hair flopped down in his eyes. He ignored it and kept playing. My fingers twitched to sweep that hair back. It was so fucking hot but it did make it harder to check out his face.

  He had long legs. Did the real Junichi have long legs? Those fingers too. They were long like Junichi’s but the way he moved them along the neck of the guitar got me all wet. I twisted one leg behind the other. I should not be thinking about the things he could do with those fingers.

  One of the guys held up a glass, asking if I wanted another drink. I nodded without really taking my attention from the band.

  I’d have moved closer to the stage but everyone had stopped dancing and the area in front of the stage was completely empty. There was no way I could move forward without drawing attention to myself. This wasn’t music you could dance to. It was much more sorrowful than that.

  As one song finishing, the fake Junichi swept back his hair with his index finger. That gesture was exactly the same as the real Junichi’s. Except when fake Junichi did it, it was hot. Really hot.

  The guy on stage glowed. He radiated a pure joy. The real Junichi never did that, though. He mostly scowled.

  He held his guitar above his head, in a totally hot rock move. Even better, as he did so, his t-shirt rode up showing off the curve of his hipbone. Was there some way I could ask to lick along the ridge of that hipbone without seeming totally creepy?

  “Wow, you’re in love,” Ingrid said, nudging me. “Is it him?”

  “Him, who?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Your sexy host brother, of course. I mean, I’ve only seen the guy a handful of times but it sure looks like him to me. Stop salivating. It’s not a flattering look on you.”

  I couldn’t even look at Ingrid. I needed to keep my eyes on that guy on stage. Purely for investigative purposes. The song ended and he pushed back his hair again.

  “They look alike but Junichi is a prize jerk and that guy is hot. He’s like the mirror image of Junichi. I can’t imagine that Junichi would ever play guitar like that either. The dude on stage is a demi-god. Way too good to play somewhere like this.”

  Jeez, I hoped I hadn’t said that loud enough for the ska guys to hear. But the fake Junichi was in a whole other league to them. I didn’t know much about guitar-playing but you could just tell. He had talent and he had charisma. The ska guys had just had crazy enthusiasm.

  “You have to admit you want a piece of him. You’ve been practically drooling all over the floor.”

  “Yeah, right. I might be a bit lonely at the moment but I’m not about to turn into a groupie. Just because a guy plays guitar well, doesn’t mean my panties are dropping to the floor for him.” I said that even though I’d spend the whole set thinking how my panties would do just that.

  “Seriously, it took me three attempts before you even heard me talk.”

  The band had completed their set and headed off stage. Another band waited at the side to set up. They pumped them through fast here.

  Fake Junichi walked across the empty centre of the room toward the bar. Heading straight in the direction our table. I wanted to check if it was him, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t look at him. But I couldn’t NOT look. This was so weird and awkward. My heart pounded and my insides twisted like someone had turned on a high-speed blender. I could not fall for a guy who looked so much like Junichi. That would be weird and creepy. But the guy walking toward me made me feel things I’d never felt before.

  Of course, the fake probably had no idea that Junichi even existed. He lived a happy existence, blissfully unaware of that.

  I couldn’t keep my head down. I had to look at him. It was beyond my self-control not to. I could sense him near me even without looking. I turned my head slowly, hoping he’d not notice the lust beaming from eyes. I’d look up and know that it was all a mistake and, off stage, the guy looked nothing like Junichi.

  Our gazes met. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at me. I stared back. What the hell?

  Was the world playing a dirty joke on me? The guy who’d almost had my panties sliding to the floor and I’d been lusting over all night stood before me and was no fake.

  The fake Junichi was the real Junichi.

  CHAPTER 9

  I waited for him to speak but he didn’t say anything, he just walked back to the stage, grabbed his guitar and headed for the door.

  “Junichi!” I called after him. “Wait up.”

  I ran after him but he’d disappeared fast. I had no idea where. I came back into the bar but all my happy mood had vanished. I needed to know what was going on with him. I mean, I didn’t expect him to suddenly open up and tell me all about his secret double life but that’s sure as hell what I wanted. If someone had a secret double life, then I wanted to know every tiny detail. I thought I’d been sneaky as hell with my skipping cram school with Shun but this was a hundred times better.

  “You’re going to do it, aren’t you?” Ingrid said.

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “The deal, you’re doing to take it. You can’t unsee that sexy beast up there on stage. You want a bit of that for yourself. No shame in admitting it. And if you get a few bucks in the meantime then all the better. It’s not like he’s the one paying you.”

  I wasn’t sure it was quite like Ingrid said. I was as curious as hell though and one way to get to the bottom of this was to tell the Tachibanas I accepted their deal. I could always renege later. I had no idea what to do, I just knew I had an ache inside me that had not been there before.

  “I’ve got to go,” I said.

  I ran down the street to the train station, hoping I’d see Junichi on the way. I didn’t see him, though. He’d probably not even caught the train, he would’ve driven. Shit, why had I not thought of that before? Of course, most people in this city caught the train. Driving was a pain in the butt. But not Junichi. He al
ways drove. He loved his car. It was some fancy, rich person car that I knew nothing about.

  Oh well, if I didn’t catch him now, I’d see him at home. It wasn’t like he could avoid me forever.

  I was almost at the station when a car pulled up beside me. Junichi wound down the window.

  “Get in.”

  “You could ask nicely.”

  I folded my arms. I had every intention of getting in the car with him but I didn’t want to look like that’s what I wanted. He could work a bit harder before I agreed.

  Even if my heart jumped. I could not look at him. He’d see the lust shining in my eyes. What had I become?

  “You could do as I say.”

  The way he growled those words didn’t help one bit.

  “You aren’t the boss of me.” Wow, super mature comeback.

  I walked over and got in the car though, because it’d be a free lift home and we needed to talk. We drove in silence for a while. I wasn’t sure how to lead into this. Finally, he spoke.

  “You’ll say nothing of this at home,” he said. “Not a word.”

  “What’s in that for me?”

  I didn’t really expect anything but I didn’t want to agree too easily either. I just wanted to play this out as long as possible.

  “A thousand bucks.”

  I almost choked. “You are kidding, right? You are just going to hand me a thousand bucks? Is that US dollars or Australian, because there’s a huge difference in that.”

  “US is fine.” He tried to act calm but his hands gripping the wheel so tightly revealed his true feelings. What was with this family throwing around money like it was candy? Did they think everyone in the world could be bought? A thousand bucks was tempting but it seemed like there’d be some catch to it, like it’d be Monopoly money or something.

  “No deal.”

  “Two thousand.”

  Wowsers. That was hard to resist.

  “So, how are you going to get that kind of money without your parents asking questions? I mean they are going to notice, right?”