by Yuriko Hime
"Nothing like that," I said. "I really want to help her. And think about it. I can pursue both fashion design and being a manager at the same time. Because I'm not in college, I'll be given more freedom to do good on both. I don't need formal education for those."
He was dubious. "Is that your final decision?"
"Yeah."
"I hope you're doing this with a clear head and not because you've fallen in love with a girl," he said. "I know you better than anyone." I blushed and looked at the front of the store, anywhere but him. I knew better than to hide these things from Carter. The shopper left without buying anything.
I got home at five in the afternoon, just in time to cook dinner. Blaze has supposedly visited her talent agent. She didn't ask me to come. Said I should get a rest for once, and she would handle things herself. I went to my room for a quick change. It was hot today, and I've become sweaty from walking to and from Carter's shop. It would be nice to get out of these clothes.
Nearing my room, I stared at the door in surprise. There was a note stuck on the wood. 'Second door on the right corridor', it said in a looped handwriting. Blaze's handwriting, I thought. Right corridor. What could she possibly want me to see there? With a shrug, I decided to return to my room later and headed to where the note wanted me to go.
I paused outside the door I was supposed to enter. It had a sign hung on the doorknob that read 'workshop.' I twisted the knob and opened the door to see what lay inside. I gasped when I realized what kind of room it was.
I stared at the space with wide eyes. The walls were adorned with framed pictures of dresses. There were two desks in the room- a glass table paired with a stylish chair, and a wooden table that had a purple sewing machine on top. I walked giddily to the boxes stacked in one side to see what it contained. There were cloths of different colors and textures.
If I thought that was cool, nothing made me smile wider than seeing my mannequin torso in the middle of the room. It was still naked, though another note was attached to it. 'Your new office,' it said. 'From B.' My heart fluttered while reading the note. No one has ever done this for me before.
I managed to get out of the room so I could thank Blaze. I found her on her bed, curled like a child with her pillow. She was sleeping so peacefully that I didn't have the heart to wake her. My stomach flipped as I stared at her. I've always found her pretty, but her soul was what attracted me. It glowed. Subconsciously, I reached out to touch her face.
Wait, a small voice said in my head.
My hand hovered in the air. I'd touch her, and then what? There was always an aftermath to these actions. I squeezed my eyes shut. She was damaged enough as she was. I shouldn't be selfish. I straightened and shakily made my way out of the door before I changed my mind. She wasn't the only one torn in this house. My feelings were split in half too.
Chapter 17. Confession
Blaze was an artist, but to me she was also an art. As with all art, she was a series of complexities. She evoked my emotions. It was with her that I wanted to lose myself in. It was with her that I've never been more scared not to be found. She was her and yet she wasn't. She was art, and she was perfectly imperfect.
All of these emotions that she made me feel was kept in secret. Though she was very comfortable with me, and every day seemed to be showing a part of herself that I didn't know of, I kept a safe distance between us. It was not just for one reason, but many reasons put together.
Aside from being sure that she wouldn't like me back because of our status in life, I was also scared that she'd run for the hills if she realized that a girl was slowly falling in love with her. Though she did mention that she was gay when we first met, Blaze also had the habit of baiting me with her jokes. I'd hate to tell her what I felt, only to later on receive an, "I'm sorry, you should have never fell for everything I said." And then there was the thing with Uno. Add that to the growing list of why I couldn't be with either of them.
While my relationship with her was going nowhere, the move for her career was better than ever. We've visited the place where the charity concert was to be held and talked to the coordinators a week before the show. Blaze introduced me to everyone as her new manager. They said I looked young for a twenty year old girl. Blaze jokingly told them that I only eat herbs to keep the youthful glow. All of us knew I was lying through my teeth, though none contested at the time. At one point maybe they did it too.
On the day of the visit, the organizers told Blaze what time she needed to be there, her cues, and what was expected of her. I listened and took notes of everything they said. Blaze's part wasn't complicated. She wasn't performing anything. Even so, her presence would make a lot of people come- the old and young. The success of the show was dependent on her brief appearance, as much as it was with the artists who were going to sing and dance.
"You're nervous," Blaze said as we walked to the entrance meant for the artists. She grabbed my hand and squeezed. "Don't be nervous."
Her hold made me more clammy. I yanked my hand away before the feeling spread to my legs. "I'm not nervous. It's called silent anticipation." I frowned and added, "With a dash of muscle twitching."
We continued down a narrow corridor. It was hours before the show, yet people were scurrying left and right. I'd hate to see how they were doing on the main stage. They were probably setting up the lighting and the speakers that would be used. We were lucky that Blaze was provided a room to dress and stay put until it was her turn to go to the stage. Not many people were given that privilege.
"What about your friend, Carter? Where is he?" Blaze hasn't met him yet.
"He won't come until the start of the show," I said. "There's an emergency with their family that he has to attend to first." Emergency, meaning one of his sisters had some kind of favor they wanted him to do. "He said thank you for giving him the backstage pass by the way."
"Tell him I said welcome." Blaze steered me down another corridor. We were more familiar with the set-up because we were here last week, but with all the random people going in and out, it was hard to keep track of the place. I avoided two guys who were carrying boxes. They smiled at me. Wider when they saw Blaze. If they weren't in such a hurry, they'd probably ask for an autograph or a picture. I had to remind myself that I was lucky enough to be with her every waking moment.
"By the way, who makes the clothes in your friend's shop?" she asked.
"Some are imported from other countries. Some are made by his parents."
"That's cool." She stopped in front of a door and scowled when she read the name written on the sign posted. "Uno. Damn, I wish people called me Blaze more often in Hollywood." She pushed the door and gestured for me to go first.
"Think of it as role-playing her," I said.
She shut the door. "I didn't know you're into kinky stuff. How old are you again, seven?" She smirked when I gasped and turned around to look at her.
"For your information, I'm twenty. My talent said so the other week when she introduced me to everyone," I reminded her. "And I'm not talking about role-playing like that. I haven't even kissed anyone yet."
"Really now," she said, cocking an eyebrow. I regretted my statement instantly. She leaned closer. "Maybe I should kiss you, just so you're not inexperienced anymore."
"Stop playing around." I turned my back to her to hide the blush creeping on my face. "I'm seventeen."
She stepped in front of me. "I thought you were twenty? Someone is not telling the truth here." I pushed her playfully. Blaze chuckled and stared around the room. There were chairs stacked in the corner, a table with a mirror, and clothes racks with random outfits. I didn't know who those belonged to. Better not touch it.
I placed the heavy bag on the table. It was filled with the assorted makeup that she asked me to bring. "Shouldn't we have hired a makeup artist for you?" I asked.
"No need." She took several chairs and put them in one side. "I usually do my makeup when the event is as small as this."
"Small eve
nt? This? There's a freaking army of coordinators, artists, not to mention a long line of people outside who will be screaming your name later. Calling that small is unusual Blaze."
"I've been to worse," she said, sitting. "You should have seen the promotion we did in Japan for a movie. I thought it was just the Japanese who were going to be there. People from all over Asia came to see us too. The place was jam-packed. Manager Chance had to get the floor plan of the building to check where we can escape if anything happens."
I sat next to her. Hearing these stories made me feel alive. It was exciting to know what my mother did with her when they were working together. There was one thing I was wondering about though. "If you call my mom Manager Chance, then what do you call me? I'm also Manager Chance," I said, pointing to myself. "And don't you dare joke about that."
She shook her head. "Don't worry, I'm serious with this. You know what I call you?"
"No, what?"
She smiled. "I call you mine."
"Blaze," I warned. She giggled while I tried to find something to throw to her.
The door opened. Blaze and I glanced at the person who entered. Bianca, I thought. There she stood, wearing a white top, blue jeans, and sneakers. Something she could easily slip out of when she needed to change. The way she stared at me told me that she had no idea who I was. I didn't care to elaborate. It was so many weeks ago when I helped her, and with all the people she came in contact with, who was I to be remembered?
"What are you doing in my dressing room?" Blaze asked, cocking her eyebrow.
Bianca stared at the door again, then back to us. "My name is also written on the door."
"Are you kidding me?" Blaze murmured. I jumped from my chair and went to the door. Bianca's name was added underneath Uno. I nodded to Blaze so she'd know that Bianca was telling the truth. The former composed herself, though I saw irritation flash in her face before she set her lips for a smile. "Guess we'll share the room then," she said to Bianca.
Blaze has told me before that it was best to stay away from Bianca. I observed the woman as she strolled to the room with her bag and picked a corner for herself to rest on. Bianca didn't look harmful or crazy. She had the air of gentleness about her. Hmmm. She got thinner than the first time I've seen her, and her cheekbones became more prominent. Must have been because of a diet she took for a project. Never mind.
I checked my notebook to see what I needed to do. "Shoot," I mumbled.
Blaze glanced at me. "You need to pee? We passed a restroom down the hall."
I tapped my notebook and stood. "It's not that. I've almost forgotten to get your costume. It's my job." I stared from her to Bianca with uncertainty. Leaving them together wouldn't be bad right? They were adults and have worked in lots of shows together. "I'll be right back," I said, making my way to the door.
The people who were walking about the corridor have doubled. Seeing them made me feel a rush of anticipation. It was my first formal project with Blaze. I should do my best. "Excuse me," I said to a passing woman. "Do you know where I can get access to the costumes?"
She pointed down the hall. "Last door on the left."
"Thanks." We both went on our separate ways after giving each other quick smiles. In this type of industry, there was no time to waste. I arrived on the room shortly and knocked. There was a man with a funky mustache inside. I noted that his white shirt was too tight for his muscled arms.
"Yeah?" he said with a Southern accent.
I swallowed nervously. "Is this where the outfits are? I need to get the designated costume for my talent."
He stared at me from head to foot, probably wondering what a kid was doing there. I was relieved when he smiled. It felt like I passed the unspoken test. First job worries, I thought. "The outfits were sent to each dressing room," he said. "It's being delivered to your talent now. They didn't want any mix-up. You must have missed it."
"Oh, then I guess I better go on my way. Thank you."
"Your first show?" he said before I closed the door. "I've been there before missy. It's only scary at first. You'll get the hang of it with your talent." I nodded politely and headed my way. He was right. Everything was scary at first. Even mom must had a hard time when she was a rookie. It was nothing to be ashamed of.
Blaze had her eyes closed when I came back. She pulled five chairs together so she could lay down properly. Bianca was sitting in her corner listening to music. I waved so she would notice me. Bianca removed her headphones. "Did someone come over to distribute the outfits?" I asked.
She nodded. "Yeah. Yours are over there." She gestured to another chair where the clothes were placed hastily. Maybe by the staff, since Blaze was napping. Blaze could nap anywhere. She was like a cat.
"Thanks," I said.
"No biggie." I was expecting her to get back to her music, but she continued staring at me. "You're very familiar," she said. "Have we met before?"
I sat beside Blaze, careful not to disturb her. "Remember that time when you were being chased by your fans in the studio? Well, I kind of helped you escape through the window. It's okay if you don't remember though. It was a long time ago."
It took a while, but eventually, recognition dawned on her face. "Oh yeah. Riri right?" she said. "Wow, I didn't expect you to be here." And I didn't expect her to remember my name. She nudged her chin in Blaze's direction. "What are you doing with her?"
"I, uhh. . . I'm her manager." That was so awkward to say.
"I see." She nodded to herself, as if she was filing the information in her head. "Good luck with that. I'm sure you'll enjoy the industry." We exchanged pleasant smiles. I had no clue where Blaze got the idea that Bianca was problematic. She was clearly a nice person.
A staff peered inside the roomed. "I need you to prepare. The show is starting in an hour," he said.
Blaze woke up looking refreshed when I nudged and informed her of the preparation needed. Both she and Bianca did their own makeup. Since the first outfit they would wear was worn over their top, they didn't have to strip down to their underwear. Thank goodness! I didn't know where I'd squeeze into if Blaze had to do it in front of me.
After one hour sharp, I ushered Blaze to where we were supposed to go. Bianca was alone all the time. Maybe her manager had another thing to do, and she was flying solo for the event. I've forgotten about her as I fuzzed over Blaze and made sure that she was looking her best in her outfit and makeup. She didn't disappoint.
I watched from backstage when it was Blaze's turn to say hello to the crowd. Their first job was to make introductions, though I was sure that everyone who attended knew her. The screaming was loud even from where I was standing. She turned to the side where she knew I was and winked. What that simple gesture did to my stomach. Despite the butterflies and feeling the need to scream myself, I forced her to look back to the crowd who started yelling louder when she smiled.
My pocket vibrated. I fished my phone and stared at the screen. Carter was calling. "Hello," I answered. "Where are you?" I had to shout so he could hear me over the chanting of Blaze's screen name. Though I was watching from the sidelines, everything was surreal.
"I think this is entrance B," he said. "Can you come over? It's the first time I've been here."
I moved back from the stage. The staff who were standing with me were so focused on the artist and their jobs that they didn't notice me step away. "Uno is up in the stage right now," I said to Carter. "Ask the guard for direction. Tell him to show you the way." I didn't catch what he said because of the screaming fans. For a charity concert, the crowd was really wild. "Say that again," I said.
He made his voice louder. "I said I'll try to manage. Enjoy the show."
"Okay. Text me in a bit." We ended the call. I glanced back at the stage. Blaze was now seated on a wooden chair in the middle. The host was asking her questions. I tucked my phone back in my pocket and went nearer so I could concentrate on what they were saying.
The host was the guy with the crazy mustache
I've seen earlier. He looked like the poster image from The Millionaires game, but with a bigger body. He stared at the cue card and smiled. "I think the audience is going to love this question." The crowd screamed in response. "Settle down," he said to calm them, then turned to Blaze. "What we all want to know is if you're still single. You're twenty-one, but you haven't been linked to anyone. Why is that?"
Blaze gave a megawatt smile to everyone. How would she answer this? In her interviews before, she always managed to evade this type of question. "I'm single," she said into the mic.
"Marry me already!" someone screamed.
She chuckled. "I can't." Blaze glanced my way. Though we were far apart, I could feel the depth of her stare. It gave me goosebumps and a heart attack. "I'm single, but I'm madly in love with someone."
Chapter 18. Sabotage
It was funny how a couple of words can turn hundreds of screaming people to silence. "I'm madly in love with someone." That was all it took to hush everyone who were participating and watching the show. But if a person begged to differ, it was me and my heart. It was racing uncontrollably against my chest, ready to burst like an overinflated balloon. Though Blaze has glanced away, those few seconds of eye contact were enough to shake and make me undone.
I looked away from the stage, trying to get a hold of myself. The silence has turned to screaming again, this time louder and bordering on insanity. I could barely hear it because of the strange rushing sound in my ears. "Woah!" the host exclaimed. Like the people who attended, he too was having a hard time deciphering what was going on. Blaze was a desired bachelorette. Fresh out of her teens, rich, beautiful, and talented. Everyone wanted a piece of her. Who could have possibly stolen her heart?
