Fic: B-sides & Singles, Part 6
This stuff has been sitting around on my hard drive forever. I'm only posting it to distract myself from this really weird story that's just....I dunno, pestering me to death, lately. The writing hiatus still isn't officially over. I just have 25 pages of handwritten notes on this thing, churned out over five days, because it won't shut up. But it's not writing. It isn't really not-writing either, like the whole B-Sides thing was.
Whatever. Thinking about it gives me a headache. Like the moral dilemma over whether to pay for a DW account, just so I can load up more icons. Meh.
Here, have some old stalled fic:
On their first meeting, the talent coach tumbles into Hikaru and hugs him like a long-lost best friend. By now, Hikaru is pretty well reconciled to assuming that everyone he meets through Tamaki will be in some way utterly bizarre. And Haninozuka-sensei is a huge improvement over the image consultant, this insane harridan with a voice that could shatter Kevlar, named Renge. He'd concluded pretty quickly that Renge was the kind of evil-eyed crazy that would boil your pets if you pissed her off, and he should just nod at whatever she said and stay under her radar. By comparison, Haninozuka-sensei is weird, but harmless. The type who thinks nothing of tackling unsuspecting strangers with hugs, and eats ridiculous amounts of sugar. In spite of the sweets fetish, his teeth are perfect.
Sensei is a few years older than Tamaki and Ootori, as it turns out. But he looks like he's about sixteen, and dresses like he's twelve. Or like a twelve-year old dressed by someone with a taste for pretty boys and a lot of money, anyway.
When it gets down to the coaching though, he doesn't screw around. Their first session takes most of the day, and he tests everything Hikaru knows about singing and stage movement, before telling Hikaru he can forget all that, they're going to start from the beginning.
"You're nice to look at," he says. "But watch Kao-chan, when he goes out. Notice how people can't look away from him."
This is news to Hikaru, who'd been figuring it was just him. "How am I supposed to be like that?"
Haninozuka-sensei explains about body language, posture, and eye-contact. "Hika-chan's presence is more forceful than Kaoru's, but if you're uncomfortable, it turns people off. Now let's talk about your voice...."
He assigns Hikaru a lot of voice and ear-training exercises, and sets him a calisthenics and aerobics regimen to improve his lung capacity and get him in shape for stage work. Of course Hikaru has never worked out a day in his life, and by the end of the session thinks surely he's going to die. Sensei isn't very sympathetic.
"You'll get used to it in a couple of weeks. Here, drink some water."
**
The daily exercise is brutal, but Hikaru gives in and does it, because there really isn't anything else to do. He can't go out anywhere without Kaoru tagging along and Takashi to chaperone, and if he's ever tempted to give them the slip, he knows Ootori will surely hear about it. Which pretty much sucks the fun out of any plan he might make, right off.
So he does the calisthenics and jogging and crap, and he does the voice training because it's the next best thing to yelling his head off, which he feels like doing most of the time. He just locks himself in the soundproofed practice room on the second floor of the mansion, and has at it for three or four hours a day to keep himself sane. As a minor side-effect, his singing happens to get better, but all he really cares about is that he feels less like hitting people or bashing his head into a wall afterward.
**
After a certain amount of practice, Hikaru finds out he can really screw with people's heads, by acting just like Kaoru. This amuses the hell out of Kaoru, himself.
He doesn't set out to do it on purpose at first; he's just trying to figure out what makes people stare, whenever Kaoru shows up. Once Haninozuka-sensei brought it to his attention, Hikaru started seeing it everywhere.
All he can pin it on at first, is that Kaoru generally gives one of two impressions: that he's just been thoroughly well laid, or else that's the next item directly on his agenda. Both are equally effective for getting peoples' interest, but Hikaru has to study him, to figure out how he pulls it off.
A lot of it's body language, Sensei was right about that. Kaoru stretches out his limbs more than most people when he walks, or reaches for a cup of tea. He takes a little extra time doing anything, like there's no rush, he's just moving his body for the pleasure of it.
He'll act like he doesn't notice the attention he gets, when they go out in public. And then he'll pick one person out of a crowd of turned heads to notice back. Tilt his chin and give them a slow smile. Meet their eyes for a few seconds, and then drop his gaze so all they see are his long eyelashes, like he's thinking about something that person and him might do together, and looking forward to it. And somehow the whole crowd ends up frozen, holding their breath.
So Hikaru tries walking with a longer, slower stride too, and learns to put his hips into it a little. He draws out his gestures, and whenever he gets the urge to glare and elbow people out of his space, he thinks about how it feels to crawl out of a hot bath, on his way to stretching out in bed for a long lazy fuck at two in the afternoon. Granted he ends up horny as hell sometimes, but it does the trick. People start staring when he walks into rooms, too.
**
A few months into the coaching, Hikaru and Kaoru start getting invited to parties. Mostly after-parties for movie and TV premieres, record releases, stuff like that. They meet actors and producers, musicians and other celebrities, and scores of entourage and lesser individuals whose names Hikaru can never keep straight. If he could get wasted like everybody else, these parties might actually be fun. But they're always accompanied by Tamaki or Ootori, usually both, and as Ootori points out, the point is social networking, not enjoyment.
He finds out Ootori is a better performer than anyone would give him credit for. Watching the man paste on an affable smile beneath his silver glasses, and charming A-list actresses and men whose suits are nearly as good as his, is completely unnerving though.
Kaoru laughs when Hikaru mentions this. "What, you didn't think he got so rich just by scaring people, did you?"
"Well yeah, why not?"
"It's the challenge, not the money he likes. You should've noticed that by now." Kaoru is giving him this cool, amused look which reminds Hikaru that he still doesn't know how Tamaki and Ootori had roped him into this whole deal. The one time he'd asked, Kaoru had unfolded himself from his chair, and shrugged carelessly. He'd met them at some party or something, years ago. He didn't really remember. Then he'd wandered off yawning, saying he was going for a nap.
**
After eight days of photo shoots all over half the damn country, with this pervert photographer who looked like he wanted to eat the both of them the whole time, Hikaru and Kaoru get invited out for a night of partying by the photographer's assistant.
"Hmmm, I don't know. We'll have to ask Mom and Dad," Kaoru sing-songs, and Hikaru rolls his eyes. Kaoru often refers to Ootori and Tamaki as Mom and Dad, though never where Ootori can hear. It actually pleases Tamaki, for some bizarre reason Hikaru doesn't even want to know about.
"I'm not going anywhere he's gonna be," he mutters, meaning the photographer of course. Seriously, the guy was like sixty. It was disgusting.
"Aw, c'mon. It's been ages since we did anything fun." They're in the dressing room, where Hikaru's been trying to rub off the glittery body paint from their last session. The stuff was sweat-proof and smudge-proof, and half a box of tissues hadn't made a dent so far.
"Then go," says Hikaru, scowling at the shiny blue swirls on his chest and arms. What was he supposed to use on this crap, nail polish remover?
"Neh, they never let me go alone." Which was true. Evidently, Kaoru was a serious trouble magnet at parties by himself, though he never seemed to realize it. "Hi-ka-ru..... Pleeeease? You know Takashi won't let that dirty old man bother us." He wriggles up next to Hikaru, holding out a package of lanolin wipes, with that little pouty mouth that made grown men in suits blush. Hikaru had secretly tried to learn that pout, but he could never do it seriously. Being Kaoru, he's learned, means having absolutely no shame at all; it's like Zen mindlessness in a way, and Hikaru just isn't there yet.
"Takashi won't let us drink, either," he reminds Kaoru, whose pout then twists into a crafty little smile. He hooks his chin over Hikaru's shoulder and makes sly cat's-eyes at him in the mirror.
"There's ways around that."
In the end, Hikaru lets himself get talked into it, because it seems easier to end a lousy week with tiresome chaperoned partying, than with two or three days of Kaoru sighing and sulking in their rooms back at the mansion. And it turns out that Ootori and Tamaki aren't available to come along, being tied up with some executive banquet thing that night. Though of course Ootori can't help laying down some ground rules on the phone to Hikaru (telling them to Kaoru is always pointless; he'll nod and smile and then completely forget you even talked to him. Maybe that was a Zen thing too; who knew).
"You will be mindful of negative publicity," is the first thing Ootori says. "Whatever happens to Kaoru, happens to you," is the second, and more ominous thing.
Hikaru makes a point of sounding as bored as possible with the party, his life, the universe in general. It's hardly a stretch for him. "Don't worry. We won't have any fun."
Ootori answers with a frosty chuckle, and hangs up.
**
Whatever. Thinking about it gives me a headache. Like the moral dilemma over whether to pay for a DW account, just so I can load up more icons. Meh.
Here, have some old stalled fic:
On their first meeting, the talent coach tumbles into Hikaru and hugs him like a long-lost best friend. By now, Hikaru is pretty well reconciled to assuming that everyone he meets through Tamaki will be in some way utterly bizarre. And Haninozuka-sensei is a huge improvement over the image consultant, this insane harridan with a voice that could shatter Kevlar, named Renge. He'd concluded pretty quickly that Renge was the kind of evil-eyed crazy that would boil your pets if you pissed her off, and he should just nod at whatever she said and stay under her radar. By comparison, Haninozuka-sensei is weird, but harmless. The type who thinks nothing of tackling unsuspecting strangers with hugs, and eats ridiculous amounts of sugar. In spite of the sweets fetish, his teeth are perfect.
Sensei is a few years older than Tamaki and Ootori, as it turns out. But he looks like he's about sixteen, and dresses like he's twelve. Or like a twelve-year old dressed by someone with a taste for pretty boys and a lot of money, anyway.
When it gets down to the coaching though, he doesn't screw around. Their first session takes most of the day, and he tests everything Hikaru knows about singing and stage movement, before telling Hikaru he can forget all that, they're going to start from the beginning.
"You're nice to look at," he says. "But watch Kao-chan, when he goes out. Notice how people can't look away from him."
This is news to Hikaru, who'd been figuring it was just him. "How am I supposed to be like that?"
Haninozuka-sensei explains about body language, posture, and eye-contact. "Hika-chan's presence is more forceful than Kaoru's, but if you're uncomfortable, it turns people off. Now let's talk about your voice...."
He assigns Hikaru a lot of voice and ear-training exercises, and sets him a calisthenics and aerobics regimen to improve his lung capacity and get him in shape for stage work. Of course Hikaru has never worked out a day in his life, and by the end of the session thinks surely he's going to die. Sensei isn't very sympathetic.
"You'll get used to it in a couple of weeks. Here, drink some water."
**
The daily exercise is brutal, but Hikaru gives in and does it, because there really isn't anything else to do. He can't go out anywhere without Kaoru tagging along and Takashi to chaperone, and if he's ever tempted to give them the slip, he knows Ootori will surely hear about it. Which pretty much sucks the fun out of any plan he might make, right off.
So he does the calisthenics and jogging and crap, and he does the voice training because it's the next best thing to yelling his head off, which he feels like doing most of the time. He just locks himself in the soundproofed practice room on the second floor of the mansion, and has at it for three or four hours a day to keep himself sane. As a minor side-effect, his singing happens to get better, but all he really cares about is that he feels less like hitting people or bashing his head into a wall afterward.
**
After a certain amount of practice, Hikaru finds out he can really screw with people's heads, by acting just like Kaoru. This amuses the hell out of Kaoru, himself.
He doesn't set out to do it on purpose at first; he's just trying to figure out what makes people stare, whenever Kaoru shows up. Once Haninozuka-sensei brought it to his attention, Hikaru started seeing it everywhere.
All he can pin it on at first, is that Kaoru generally gives one of two impressions: that he's just been thoroughly well laid, or else that's the next item directly on his agenda. Both are equally effective for getting peoples' interest, but Hikaru has to study him, to figure out how he pulls it off.
A lot of it's body language, Sensei was right about that. Kaoru stretches out his limbs more than most people when he walks, or reaches for a cup of tea. He takes a little extra time doing anything, like there's no rush, he's just moving his body for the pleasure of it.
He'll act like he doesn't notice the attention he gets, when they go out in public. And then he'll pick one person out of a crowd of turned heads to notice back. Tilt his chin and give them a slow smile. Meet their eyes for a few seconds, and then drop his gaze so all they see are his long eyelashes, like he's thinking about something that person and him might do together, and looking forward to it. And somehow the whole crowd ends up frozen, holding their breath.
So Hikaru tries walking with a longer, slower stride too, and learns to put his hips into it a little. He draws out his gestures, and whenever he gets the urge to glare and elbow people out of his space, he thinks about how it feels to crawl out of a hot bath, on his way to stretching out in bed for a long lazy fuck at two in the afternoon. Granted he ends up horny as hell sometimes, but it does the trick. People start staring when he walks into rooms, too.
**
A few months into the coaching, Hikaru and Kaoru start getting invited to parties. Mostly after-parties for movie and TV premieres, record releases, stuff like that. They meet actors and producers, musicians and other celebrities, and scores of entourage and lesser individuals whose names Hikaru can never keep straight. If he could get wasted like everybody else, these parties might actually be fun. But they're always accompanied by Tamaki or Ootori, usually both, and as Ootori points out, the point is social networking, not enjoyment.
He finds out Ootori is a better performer than anyone would give him credit for. Watching the man paste on an affable smile beneath his silver glasses, and charming A-list actresses and men whose suits are nearly as good as his, is completely unnerving though.
Kaoru laughs when Hikaru mentions this. "What, you didn't think he got so rich just by scaring people, did you?"
"Well yeah, why not?"
"It's the challenge, not the money he likes. You should've noticed that by now." Kaoru is giving him this cool, amused look which reminds Hikaru that he still doesn't know how Tamaki and Ootori had roped him into this whole deal. The one time he'd asked, Kaoru had unfolded himself from his chair, and shrugged carelessly. He'd met them at some party or something, years ago. He didn't really remember. Then he'd wandered off yawning, saying he was going for a nap.
**
After eight days of photo shoots all over half the damn country, with this pervert photographer who looked like he wanted to eat the both of them the whole time, Hikaru and Kaoru get invited out for a night of partying by the photographer's assistant.
"Hmmm, I don't know. We'll have to ask Mom and Dad," Kaoru sing-songs, and Hikaru rolls his eyes. Kaoru often refers to Ootori and Tamaki as Mom and Dad, though never where Ootori can hear. It actually pleases Tamaki, for some bizarre reason Hikaru doesn't even want to know about.
"I'm not going anywhere he's gonna be," he mutters, meaning the photographer of course. Seriously, the guy was like sixty. It was disgusting.
"Aw, c'mon. It's been ages since we did anything fun." They're in the dressing room, where Hikaru's been trying to rub off the glittery body paint from their last session. The stuff was sweat-proof and smudge-proof, and half a box of tissues hadn't made a dent so far.
"Then go," says Hikaru, scowling at the shiny blue swirls on his chest and arms. What was he supposed to use on this crap, nail polish remover?
"Neh, they never let me go alone." Which was true. Evidently, Kaoru was a serious trouble magnet at parties by himself, though he never seemed to realize it. "Hi-ka-ru..... Pleeeease? You know Takashi won't let that dirty old man bother us." He wriggles up next to Hikaru, holding out a package of lanolin wipes, with that little pouty mouth that made grown men in suits blush. Hikaru had secretly tried to learn that pout, but he could never do it seriously. Being Kaoru, he's learned, means having absolutely no shame at all; it's like Zen mindlessness in a way, and Hikaru just isn't there yet.
"Takashi won't let us drink, either," he reminds Kaoru, whose pout then twists into a crafty little smile. He hooks his chin over Hikaru's shoulder and makes sly cat's-eyes at him in the mirror.
"There's ways around that."
In the end, Hikaru lets himself get talked into it, because it seems easier to end a lousy week with tiresome chaperoned partying, than with two or three days of Kaoru sighing and sulking in their rooms back at the mansion. And it turns out that Ootori and Tamaki aren't available to come along, being tied up with some executive banquet thing that night. Though of course Ootori can't help laying down some ground rules on the phone to Hikaru (telling them to Kaoru is always pointless; he'll nod and smile and then completely forget you even talked to him. Maybe that was a Zen thing too; who knew).
"You will be mindful of negative publicity," is the first thing Ootori says. "Whatever happens to Kaoru, happens to you," is the second, and more ominous thing.
Hikaru makes a point of sounding as bored as possible with the party, his life, the universe in general. It's hardly a stretch for him. "Don't worry. We won't have any fun."
Ootori answers with a frosty chuckle, and hangs up.
**