If the Shoe Fits Chapter 4
“Hello Gorgeous, are you here alone?”
Akihito turned around and what he saw made his eyebrows go up in surprise. Despite his fluent Japanese, the man who had greeted him was a foreigner in clothes that belonged in a Hollywood costume drama - velvet jacket cut close to the body over frilly fronted shirt that reminded him of the one Jun had worn at home earlier, and skintight white pants - his long brown hair slightly curled at the bottom.
“You’re so beautiful,” the man continued. “I’ve been looking at you-“
Remembering one of the tricks that Yu-chan had taught him while they were riding to the club, the photographer gave the man a beseeching look and mimed with two fingers at his throat that he was unable to speak.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” The man sputtered apologetically. “But perhaps we can go outside, away from this din and get to know...”
Before he could finish his sentence Akihito had slipped between waiters bearing trays of champagne and canapés and made his way to freedom. Standing in a dim corner, he exhaled audibly then began to look around for his target. Since tumbling out of Kou's borrowed car -- which his fairy godmother had rechristened the Pumpkin Carriage -- 20 minutes earlier, his senses had been on overload. By the time he had walked the half block to Club Verve, there was no longer a line at the door and only a lone photographer was hanging about. Luckily the man wasn’t a colleague from his newspaper, but still Akihito felt odd when the paparazzo’s flash bulb went off just as he handed his invitation to one of the Men in Black at the door. Making his way past other guests, he couldn’t help but marvel at the luxury and decadence he saw. The clothes, the bling, the snatches of conversation he caught - about important meetings, trips to exotic places, recent shopping sprees at Omotesando Hills... Feeling utterly out of place, he swallowed his discomfort and pushed forward, keeping an eye out for his cousins and their usual retinue. Once he looked up and found himself staring straight at Toshi, his half-hearted benefactor, but there was no recognition in the man’s eyes, only mild interest, and Akihito silently thanked all that was holy in relief. Then, trying to catch his breath, he was accosted by the foreigner in the strange garb, and only now, looking around for the club’s mysterious owner, did he have the presence of mind to fully take in his surroundings.
Grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, he finished it in one gulp then grabbed another one and stood admiring the ambience. Everything around him said “Big Money,” from the coolly elegant Japanese Minimalist décor, to the artful lighting that made everyone look attractive, to the tasteful music and the free-flowing champagne. Finishing his drink, he could hear his stomach protest loudly and remembered that he hadn’t eaten since lunch some eight-no, nine hours previously. Looking left and right for a waiter with a canapé tray, he heard-or rather felt a change in the atmosphere, and turning around saw that the crowd had somehow shifted to the center of the room.
“That’s the owner-Asami Ryuichi,” someone behind him whispered excitedly, then pushed past him almost knocking his empty glass from his hand. Akihito tried to catch a glimpse of the famously mysterious mogul, but the crush of bodies moving against him and their mingled perfume proved too much. He decided to stay where he was and make a move on the man later.
“Some more champagne?”
A waiter asked solicitously, and just to be nice Akihito accepted a glass knowing that the last thing his empty stomach needed was more champagne. Switching the champagne flute to his left hand and using his right to tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear, the photographer suddenly felt an electric buzz starting at the back of his head and spreading swiftly down his neck and spine. Turning slowly around, he felt as if the crowd around him had fallen away and the room had become utterly silent and still. The only thing he saw at that moment - the only thing that existed apart from himself - was a pair of penetrating golden eyes looking straight at him...
“Hi!”
A voice from behind him broke the spell and Akihito felt like he had just awakened from a dream.
“My name’s Okada Rei,” the tall, rail-thin woman in a silver cocktail dress offered her hand. “I’m from Elan - the modeling agency?”
Nodding at the name, Akihito didn’t have time to be surprised as the woman immediately jumped into her pitch.
“First of all, let me ask you - are you in the business? No? Would you like to try modeling? I’m sure you’ve been told many times that you have the body and the face for it. We’re always looking for fresh faces and yours is the freshest face I’ve seen in a long time.”
Having delivered her spiel and extracted a promise from “Yu” that she would give Elan a call, the model scout went back to her table, leaving Akihito with her name card and the sense that a cosmic joke was being played on him. A glance in Asami's direction showed him being mobbed by a group of glamorous girls including Eriko in her vampy red dress. The sight made Akihito down his third champagne in one go, and it went straight to his head. Feeling sweat prick on his brow, he pushed his way to the balcony to his right and began to regret letting Yu-chan put him in these ridiculous high heels. Stepping through the glass door, he felt warm breeze on his face and wished he had something to mop his brow with. But the tiny satin pouch that Yu-chan had given him could only hold his camera phone and a tube of lip gloss. Well, at least it was quiet out here and he was completely alone...
“Hello.”
Startled, Akihito quickly turned around and immediately regretted it as his queasy stomach and poor pinched feet chose that very moment to gang up on him. Staring up into the face of the last person he expected to see, the photographer opened his mouth but no words came out. Unable to keep his jaw from dropping open or tear his eyes away from the mesmerizing golden orbs, he felt the world start to spin and the last thing that struck him before he blacked out was how elegant Asami Ryuichi was in his dark suit and silk cravat...
“How are you feeling?”
The photographer tried to sit up but a strong arm around his shoulders stopped him.
“Don’t get up just yet. Here-“
Something delicious-smelling touched his lips and Akihito obediently opened his mouth to accept it. Another bite followed, then another and another, with a sip of water in between, and before long he felt almost himself again. When he tried to sit up again the man let him, but those unnerving golden eyes never once left his face.
“Please eat.”
The words sounded like an order but the little morsels on the platter the man was holding looked mighty tempting, and the next thing Akihito knew, he had finished the last of them. Looking up shyly, he received a half smile that left him unsure whether to feel grateful or offended.
“You haven’t told me your name. Mine is Asami Ryuichi.”
“I know-“ Hearing his own voice, Akihito almost let go of the glass of sparkling water the man had just given him. Repeating his sore-throat routine, he mouthed that his name was Yu. Asami gave him an amused look that Akihito took to mean his cover was blown. But before he could plot his next move, the man was pulling him to his feet.
“Dance with me.”
Looking down at his bare feet, then up at the man he had gone through all this trouble to get close to, Akihito had no choice but to let him lead him around the makeshift dance floor to the waltz tune drifting from inside. A voice in his head jeered at his predicament, and the photographer had a hard time relaxing and letting the music guide him as his partner suggested. But after the first awkward steps, his body began to follow the rhythm as if he’d been doing this all his life, and then he lost count of how many songs they had danced to, aware only of the strength and warmth of the body next to him. He didn’t know how much time had passed, and didn’t even notice when the music stopped. He was aware, however, that his partner was standing still and looking at him with a smile in his eyes.
“Listen, I have to go inside to hand out prizes. I’ll be back soon. Don’t go away.”
With that the man was gone, followed by a hulking figure he had noticed standing guard at the balcony door. Sitting back down on the bench where he had recovered from his dizzy spell, it took Akihito some minutes to gather his thoughts. In a way, his mission was more than successful: He had not only gotten close to Asami Ryuichi but actually danced with him! But what if the businessman had known that he was a man in disguise? A powerful man like Asami wouldn’t be happy about that and might even want to punish him for daring to crash his party...
“Don’t go away.”
Asami’s voice echoed in his head as he put his shoes back on and slipped back into the room. There he found to his relief that no one was paying him any attention, fascinated as they were by the proceedings on the stage as one pretty girl after another was called up to receive a prize. When Eriko’s name was announced as winner of the best dressed prize, her entourage erupted into a loud cheer that almost made Akihito miss the vibration emanating from his purse. Fishing out his cell phone, he saw that he had a missed call from Kou and that it was now a few minutes to midnight! Picturing his friends cruising the street outside frantically looking for him, Akihito hurriedly found his way out of the club. As he emerged from the back exit, a clock struck midnight. Pulling the torturing shoes from his feet, he gathered up his skirt with his free hand and sprinted off towards the approaching headlights...
Akihito turned around and what he saw made his eyebrows go up in surprise. Despite his fluent Japanese, the man who had greeted him was a foreigner in clothes that belonged in a Hollywood costume drama - velvet jacket cut close to the body over frilly fronted shirt that reminded him of the one Jun had worn at home earlier, and skintight white pants - his long brown hair slightly curled at the bottom.
“You’re so beautiful,” the man continued. “I’ve been looking at you-“
Remembering one of the tricks that Yu-chan had taught him while they were riding to the club, the photographer gave the man a beseeching look and mimed with two fingers at his throat that he was unable to speak.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” The man sputtered apologetically. “But perhaps we can go outside, away from this din and get to know...”
Before he could finish his sentence Akihito had slipped between waiters bearing trays of champagne and canapés and made his way to freedom. Standing in a dim corner, he exhaled audibly then began to look around for his target. Since tumbling out of Kou's borrowed car -- which his fairy godmother had rechristened the Pumpkin Carriage -- 20 minutes earlier, his senses had been on overload. By the time he had walked the half block to Club Verve, there was no longer a line at the door and only a lone photographer was hanging about. Luckily the man wasn’t a colleague from his newspaper, but still Akihito felt odd when the paparazzo’s flash bulb went off just as he handed his invitation to one of the Men in Black at the door. Making his way past other guests, he couldn’t help but marvel at the luxury and decadence he saw. The clothes, the bling, the snatches of conversation he caught - about important meetings, trips to exotic places, recent shopping sprees at Omotesando Hills... Feeling utterly out of place, he swallowed his discomfort and pushed forward, keeping an eye out for his cousins and their usual retinue. Once he looked up and found himself staring straight at Toshi, his half-hearted benefactor, but there was no recognition in the man’s eyes, only mild interest, and Akihito silently thanked all that was holy in relief. Then, trying to catch his breath, he was accosted by the foreigner in the strange garb, and only now, looking around for the club’s mysterious owner, did he have the presence of mind to fully take in his surroundings.
Grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, he finished it in one gulp then grabbed another one and stood admiring the ambience. Everything around him said “Big Money,” from the coolly elegant Japanese Minimalist décor, to the artful lighting that made everyone look attractive, to the tasteful music and the free-flowing champagne. Finishing his drink, he could hear his stomach protest loudly and remembered that he hadn’t eaten since lunch some eight-no, nine hours previously. Looking left and right for a waiter with a canapé tray, he heard-or rather felt a change in the atmosphere, and turning around saw that the crowd had somehow shifted to the center of the room.
“That’s the owner-Asami Ryuichi,” someone behind him whispered excitedly, then pushed past him almost knocking his empty glass from his hand. Akihito tried to catch a glimpse of the famously mysterious mogul, but the crush of bodies moving against him and their mingled perfume proved too much. He decided to stay where he was and make a move on the man later.
“Some more champagne?”
A waiter asked solicitously, and just to be nice Akihito accepted a glass knowing that the last thing his empty stomach needed was more champagne. Switching the champagne flute to his left hand and using his right to tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear, the photographer suddenly felt an electric buzz starting at the back of his head and spreading swiftly down his neck and spine. Turning slowly around, he felt as if the crowd around him had fallen away and the room had become utterly silent and still. The only thing he saw at that moment - the only thing that existed apart from himself - was a pair of penetrating golden eyes looking straight at him...
“Hi!”
A voice from behind him broke the spell and Akihito felt like he had just awakened from a dream.
“My name’s Okada Rei,” the tall, rail-thin woman in a silver cocktail dress offered her hand. “I’m from Elan - the modeling agency?”
Nodding at the name, Akihito didn’t have time to be surprised as the woman immediately jumped into her pitch.
“First of all, let me ask you - are you in the business? No? Would you like to try modeling? I’m sure you’ve been told many times that you have the body and the face for it. We’re always looking for fresh faces and yours is the freshest face I’ve seen in a long time.”
Having delivered her spiel and extracted a promise from “Yu” that she would give Elan a call, the model scout went back to her table, leaving Akihito with her name card and the sense that a cosmic joke was being played on him. A glance in Asami's direction showed him being mobbed by a group of glamorous girls including Eriko in her vampy red dress. The sight made Akihito down his third champagne in one go, and it went straight to his head. Feeling sweat prick on his brow, he pushed his way to the balcony to his right and began to regret letting Yu-chan put him in these ridiculous high heels. Stepping through the glass door, he felt warm breeze on his face and wished he had something to mop his brow with. But the tiny satin pouch that Yu-chan had given him could only hold his camera phone and a tube of lip gloss. Well, at least it was quiet out here and he was completely alone...
“Hello.”
Startled, Akihito quickly turned around and immediately regretted it as his queasy stomach and poor pinched feet chose that very moment to gang up on him. Staring up into the face of the last person he expected to see, the photographer opened his mouth but no words came out. Unable to keep his jaw from dropping open or tear his eyes away from the mesmerizing golden orbs, he felt the world start to spin and the last thing that struck him before he blacked out was how elegant Asami Ryuichi was in his dark suit and silk cravat...
“How are you feeling?”
The photographer tried to sit up but a strong arm around his shoulders stopped him.
“Don’t get up just yet. Here-“
Something delicious-smelling touched his lips and Akihito obediently opened his mouth to accept it. Another bite followed, then another and another, with a sip of water in between, and before long he felt almost himself again. When he tried to sit up again the man let him, but those unnerving golden eyes never once left his face.
“Please eat.”
The words sounded like an order but the little morsels on the platter the man was holding looked mighty tempting, and the next thing Akihito knew, he had finished the last of them. Looking up shyly, he received a half smile that left him unsure whether to feel grateful or offended.
“You haven’t told me your name. Mine is Asami Ryuichi.”
“I know-“ Hearing his own voice, Akihito almost let go of the glass of sparkling water the man had just given him. Repeating his sore-throat routine, he mouthed that his name was Yu. Asami gave him an amused look that Akihito took to mean his cover was blown. But before he could plot his next move, the man was pulling him to his feet.
“Dance with me.”
Looking down at his bare feet, then up at the man he had gone through all this trouble to get close to, Akihito had no choice but to let him lead him around the makeshift dance floor to the waltz tune drifting from inside. A voice in his head jeered at his predicament, and the photographer had a hard time relaxing and letting the music guide him as his partner suggested. But after the first awkward steps, his body began to follow the rhythm as if he’d been doing this all his life, and then he lost count of how many songs they had danced to, aware only of the strength and warmth of the body next to him. He didn’t know how much time had passed, and didn’t even notice when the music stopped. He was aware, however, that his partner was standing still and looking at him with a smile in his eyes.
“Listen, I have to go inside to hand out prizes. I’ll be back soon. Don’t go away.”
With that the man was gone, followed by a hulking figure he had noticed standing guard at the balcony door. Sitting back down on the bench where he had recovered from his dizzy spell, it took Akihito some minutes to gather his thoughts. In a way, his mission was more than successful: He had not only gotten close to Asami Ryuichi but actually danced with him! But what if the businessman had known that he was a man in disguise? A powerful man like Asami wouldn’t be happy about that and might even want to punish him for daring to crash his party...
“Don’t go away.”
Asami’s voice echoed in his head as he put his shoes back on and slipped back into the room. There he found to his relief that no one was paying him any attention, fascinated as they were by the proceedings on the stage as one pretty girl after another was called up to receive a prize. When Eriko’s name was announced as winner of the best dressed prize, her entourage erupted into a loud cheer that almost made Akihito miss the vibration emanating from his purse. Fishing out his cell phone, he saw that he had a missed call from Kou and that it was now a few minutes to midnight! Picturing his friends cruising the street outside frantically looking for him, Akihito hurriedly found his way out of the club. As he emerged from the back exit, a clock struck midnight. Pulling the torturing shoes from his feet, he gathered up his skirt with his free hand and sprinted off towards the approaching headlights...