by Raine Koh
Talk show “Song Song Love” was hosted by one of the Fame Factory senior groups – Hiroki & Haru – a pop duo both in their early thirties. “Song Song Love” usually had a few musical artistes on the show and the interview area was held in a Western bar replica site. For today’s episode, the Fire Boys were its first guests.
Hiroki, walked on the set in a white cowboy shirt with silver sequins, black jeans, brown boots and a white cowboy hat. He strutted over to the bar and sat down. “Barman!” he shouted.
Haru, donning a black frilly apron, walked over to the cowboy, “What can I get ya?”
Hiroki banged the counter and said, “Give me a Flaming Joe, I feel like something fiery today...”
Haru leaned towards his customer, “I’ve got just the thing to warm you up.”
“Really?” the cowboy asked.
“They are one of the hottest bands around. You’ll love them!”
Upon hearing this, the studio audience started to cheer loudly.
“Really? Who?” Hiroki asked, rubbing his chin.
Haru smiled and said, “Let’s welcome our first customers, the Fire Boys!”
The audience, mostly made up of teenage girls and office ladies who decided to take a day off, clapped and cheered enthusiastically.
Each member bowed and smiled towards the camera as they entered the makeshift bar. Sitting on the bar stools, Haru, the bartender asked, “So Fire Boys, what will you have?”
“A coke, please,” all of them said in unison.
Hiroki said, “Wonderful, you all think alike. So Fire Boys, congratulations on your new number one single!”
The audience gave another round of applause.
The five members bowed and Naoki added, “Thank you very much. We couldn’t have done it without the fans.”
Haru placed five glasses of coke on the counter.
Hiroki looked at Makoto and said, “So Makoto, you were in the live action version of the manga, Host Party.”
The barman added, “The first episode earned a 24 per cent audience rating, making it the highest-rated Spring drama in Japan so far.”
“Thank you for everyone’s support,” said the blonde boy.
Hiroki said, “You played a high school student who is also a host, otherwise known as a social escort?”
“Yes, you can say that,” said Makoto smiling.
“Ah ha, so it’s time for the question of the day,” said Hiroki.
“Yes, I understand,” Haru added as he brought out a big prompt card from behind the counter and read from it, “If the Fire Boys were hosts, who would earn the most money? We’ve asked a hundred real life hosts and showed them the members’ photographs. So based on their replies, we have the top three!”
Hiroki turned to Naoki who was sitting beside him, “Leader, who do you think would earn the most?”
Naoki pondered the question for a while and answered, “Of course, I would earn the most.”
Everyone laughed at his serious tone.
Jiro added, “Yes he would, after all, he is the leader of the group.”
“See my members understand me. But second to me, would be Ginta, because he looks strong,” quipped Naoki.
“What? I don’t know if that is a compliment or not...” said Ginta, scratching his head.
Makoto added, “It doesn’t matter because you would earn the most.”
Haru turned to Ginta, “What about you Ginta? Who do you think?”
“Maybe Yuki?” Ginta pointed at the wavy-haired boy.
“Me?” Yuki raised his eyebrows.
“Yes, because he is the kind that plays hard to get. I think girls find that exciting.”
“Wait a minute!” exclaimed Yuki. The rest of the members laughed.
Hiroki nodded his head and added, “So I see.”
Yuki looked at Ginta and asked, “How did you derive at that conclusion?”
“Yuki never returns my calls or emails.”
“Yes, it’s true,” Makoto agreed and added, “He will also never give you a practical gift!”
“The more he likes a person, the more he will ignore you,” said Naoki.
“Oh no...” said Yuki, looking defeated.
Hiroki turned to the curly-haired boy and said, “Alright, so I guess, we have all agreed that Yuki would be the number one choice. Let’s reveal the answers now. At number three, we have Makoto, number two we have Ginta, and number one, as expected, the hosts chose Yuki!”
“Really? What were the hosts’ comments about him?” Haru asked, patting Yuki on the back.
“Yuki has a mysterious aura, yet has kind eyes.”
“Should I be happy then?” Yuki asked, scratching his head while the rest of the members pat him on his back.
Hiroki looked closely at the camera and said, “After the commercial break, let’s get ready to hear their latest single, ‘Love Love Night’!”
The producer shouted, “Fire Boys, please stand in position at the performing area!”
The disco beat for “Love Love Night” started to blare through the speakers. Jiro and Yuki did a double somersault across the stage while the other members were swaying their hips and doing some finger-jabbing dance moves. Yuki took the microphone and started rapping, “What’s up, disco ladies? Get your groove on, because you are in my sight. Do you remember me? You are the lucky one, Love Love Night!”
Their fans cheered as the Fire Boys started to dance in formation with smiles plastered on their faces.
It was just another day of work for the Fire Boys. With three years in the industry and more than five years in training, they knew how to make their fans happy. Yuki always believed that as long as they stood united, nothing would be too hard for them. But then he wondered why, as he was singing and looking at the audience, was he searching for Mimi’s face.
Track #3
Mimi woke up the next morning and sighed loudly. This wasn’t how Tokyo was supposed to be. She had always imagined Tokyo to be some sort of dream city where she’d find her muse. But instead, she felt trapped, stuck in some dictator’s house.
“Why the sigh? Are you alright?” someone asked. Mimi looked around and was shocked to see an elderly lady in her bedroom, holding a broom.
“Ah... No, it’s nothing,” Mimi mumbled, looking at her, “By any chance, are you the housekeeper?”
The elderly lady smiled and bowed politely. “Ah, I’m sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. Yes, I am the part-time maid. Mr Sato has left for the day. You can call me Yamada. Nice to meet you,” said Yamada. She was likely to be in her fifties, had grey curly hair and was of a small built. Mimi smiled back. “Thank you, my name is Mimi.”
“Mimi, nice to meet you. Can you walk around with that leg? I usually come here to clean a few times a week. But Mr Sato has asked me to come here everyday to take care of you. He is such a kind man.”
“What?” Mimi stuttered in disbelief.
“Did you say something?” Yamada asked, looking at her rather concerned.
“Don’t worry about me, I can walk around with my crutches.”
“I made a little breakfast. Please have some if you like.”
“Thank you,” Mimi replied. Yamada bowed again and then left to continue her cleaning chores in the living room. Mimi cautiously got out of bed and limped to the bathroom. She noticed a bathtub in the toilet and wondered how she could take a bath with her leg bandaged up. She turned to the mirror and her glum reflection looked back at her. She wanted to go home. Maybe she should really just pack up and head home. Mimi looked down at the sink and saw a newly wrapped toothbrush and toothpaste set. It was probably the work of Yamada, she thought, as she opened the plastic wrapper.
The elderly lady was setting the dining room table when Mimi got out of her room. “Yamada,” she said, slowly making her way to the table with her crutches, “Thank you for the toothbrush.”
“Hmm?” she looked up in surprise, “No, Mr Sato didn’t tell me to get any for you? Would you be needing
any? You might need to wait a while because the last time I checked, there were no spare ones here.”
“Oh, no, don’t worry about it. I already have my set.” She sat down and saw that Yamada had prepared salmon teriyaki with rice.
“Yamada, this looks delicious! Thank you! Itadakimasu!” she cried, clapping her hands together.
“Don’t mention it.” Yamada smiled. The delicious breakfast helped to lift Mimi’s spirits and she made a firm resolution to stop her whining. Maybe with the extra time, she can compose some new songs, or even write a book during this one month of rest. “Thank you for the meal!” she said, after gobbling up the last grain of rice.
Everyday Sato arrived at his office in Niji Building by 8 am. He would have his espresso (three shots, strong) while studying the day’s schedule. He knew that in order to be creative he needed to be systematic. The press called him the “King Midas” of the Japanese rock world because he knew what kind of music worked and what didn’t and he had the skill to tweak something good to something great. Major recording labels wanted him on their side, but he chose to stay at Niji Records for personal reasons. He had barely taken a sip of coffee when his office phone started ringing. At the other end was a rather frazzled band manager. “Mr Sato, we have an emergency at the studio. Shuji won’t start recording till he sees you.”
“Tell Shuji he can quit if he’s not happy with something. I am not at his beck-and-call.”
“Mr Sato, please it’s an emergency,” the manager whimpered pathetically.
“I will be there in ten minutes,” answered Sato as he banged the receiver down. He made his way to the basement where Filth was in the recording studio. He entered the studio and saw the band manager, Kiku, sitting down with his face in his hands. The members of Filth were scattered around the room – some leaning against the wall, some sitting down with their guitars, all looking rather down.
“What was so important that I had to be dragged down here?” asked Sato coldly, staring at the people in the room. Holding on to a stack of paper, Shuji, leader and lead vocals of the band stood up and faced him. Dressed in a loose t-shirt and skinny plaid jeans, Shuji had light brown shoulder length hair with red highlights, presently tied back into a small ponytail. Without his stage make-up, he could probably pass off for anyone in Harajuku. Yet Sato and Shuji himself knew that his voice was the real deal.
“I do not like what you did with the song. It’s not what we originally wanted it to be like,” said Shuji, throwing down the stack of sheet music. Sato stared at the 24-year-old and said calmly, “I am getting a little sick of your dramatics. If you want to go, just go. Just because you’ve achieved a little level of fame, you think you’re so great now? Well, the door is just right there. Go back to your livehouse days when you and your band were only making 5000 yen per night. Or, you can go to some major recording company where not only will they completely change your sound but also everything about you.”
Shuji bit his lower lip and stayed quiet. Sato looked around the room and added, “This is way too early in the day to be dealing with a couple of ingrates. Kiku, you are fired. The rest of you can reflect on your actions. If you don’t want to record then don’t. It’s your career, not mine.”
Kiku crumbled to the floor as Sato stormed out.
Mimi was on her bed strumming her guitar when the house phone rang. Yamada went to answer it. “Hello?”
“Yamada, how is she doing?” asked Sato.
“Oh, Mimi? She is doing fine. She has a good appetite.”
“What is she doing now?”
Yamada glanced over at Mimi, “She is sitting on her bed and strumming her guitar, I think. Mr Sato, would you like to speak to her?”
“It’s okay. Please prepare some dinner for me. I’ll be home early.”
“Alright,” said Yamada, trying to contain her surprise. He hasn’t been back for dinner for months now.
“Was that Sato?” Mimi asked.
“Yes it is. He said that he will be back for dinner.”
Mimi shrugged and got back to strumming her guitar. She had music sheets strewn across her bed and had been working on a song for weeks now. It was a fast rock track.
Mimi started singing the first verse,
“Maybe... One day I’ll forget your face. Forget what it was like. Sitting beside you. Being by your side. Maybe... I’ll forget your voice. And how you’ll sometimes just break into a song, or tell me your stories. Always with so much energy... Maybe...”
She stopped playing at that point and pouted. That was all she got now. Mimi jumped a little when she suddenly saw Yamada, just inches away, peering intently at her. “I’m sorry, I may have been a little loud. My songs are usually rather noisy,” Mimi explained sheepishly, scratching her head.
“No, I thought it was a very good song. You must sing it to Mr Sato. He will love it.”
“No, no! I just do this for fun. Don’t bother him about it.”
Yamada nodded and said, “I understand. Please excuse me, I will be cleaning in Mr Sato’s room upstairs if you need me.”
Mimi picked up a pencil and tried to write another line. This was useless, she thought, throwing the pencil away in frustration. She scratched her head and knew that it was impossible to focus on her music when images of a certain wavy-haired guy kept appearing in front of her. Now that she knew who Yuki was – it seemed even harder to find him. It was hard enough trying to stop herself from bursting into tears whenever she thought about him.
Suddenly she heard a strange ringing sound coming from the kitchen. Mimi took hold of her crutches and limped over to the kitchen. Yamada’s mobile phone was ringing on the table.
“Yamada, your phone...” Mimi said, clutching on to the phone. The ringing stopped abruptly. She looked at the phone’s wallpaper and yelped in surprise.
Yamada hurried down the stairs. “I’m sorry, you didn’t have to bother about it. I will call the person back.”
“Yamada, are you a fan of the Fire Boys?” Mimi asked, staring at Yamada’s mobile phone. Its wallpaper flashed a picture of the Fire Boys. In fact, they looked similar to the music video she saw previously, except that they were dressed in black sparkly suits for this one.
Yamada’s entire face lit up and her eyes sparkled. “Mimi, you know them? They are such nice boys, always so kind to us older folks too.” The 50-year-old woman spoke in a hushed tone, “Actually, this is not a widespread fact but Sato is related to one of them.”
“What! Which one?” Mimi asked, feeling a surge of panic. If she answers Yuki, I have to run away now.
Yamada pointed to the member with shaggy brown hair on her phone’s wallpaper, “Jiro, they are half-brothers. But I don’t think they are close. Sato doesn’t even mention him and they never stayed together. Only true fans know about it.” She puffed out her chest in pride, for being defined as a “true fan”. Yamada continued, “Anyway I took this job thinking I’ll see Jiro around often, but in the two years I’ve worked here, I’ve never even saw him once.”
“I see...” Mimi muttered, wondering what this new revelation meant.
“But Mimi, I thought you were more into rock. I am quite surprised you like them.”
“What? No no, I’ve heard of them, that’s all. Here’s your phone,” Mimi said hurriedly and retired to her bedroom. Maybe she should take a nap, thought Mimi, lying on the pillows. She can treat this as a long vacation. She told herself that there was no point worrying about the thousand and one “what ifs”. Mimi shut her eyes and before she knew it, drifted off to sleep.
She found herself in a scene from her memory. She was in Singapore and was running to meet Yuki at the subway station. She finally found him decked out in a purple tee and jeans and a black beanie, waiting for her patiently. “Hey, sorry I’m late, have you been waiting long?” she panted, exhausted from her run.
He shook his head and said, “Don’t worry about it. Are you okay?”
Mimi waved her hand nonchalantly and asked, “So
where do you want to go today? You want to visit Chinatown? Go shopping at Orchard Road? Visit the zoo?” Mimi asked, gesturing wildly.
“I want to see the Merlion,” he replied.
“What? I don’t understand why the Japanese love the Merlion so much. It’s weird-looking.”
“It’s cute,” he said seriously.
