[Fic] All In a Day's Work
I'm re-posting this cuz misaseba asked me to, and she's awesome so I obliged.
I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things
We can do the tango just for two
I can serenade and gently play on your heart strings
Be your Valentino just for you
Ooh love - ooh lover boy
What're you doin' tonight, hey boy
Set my alarm, turn on my charm
That's because I'm a good old-fashioned lover boy
- Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy- Queen
“Matsumoto-san, they’re ready for you in make-up.”
I glanced at the nameless assistant from over my copy of The Metamorphosis and kept silent as I put a conscious effort into keeping my brows from furrowing in irritation.
“Alright, I'll be right there,” I told her, not moving an inch. I’d get up as soon as I finished this page… I was about halfway through when I heard a tap coming from by the door. I looked up again and saw a lady standing there, watching me read my book, obviously waiting on me. How annoying. The make-up room was down the freaking hall, I didn’t need an escort to walk 30 feet. I raised my book over my face so she couldn’t see my roll my eyes and exhaled dramatically as I doggy-eared the page I was on and reluctantly rolled off the couch. The family had just realized that the enormous bug in Gregor's room was actually their son. I suppressed the grumble that started in the back of my head.
“Mastumoto-san, is there something wrong?”
It was the assistant again, this time she was gazing up at me with dewy-eyed look of concern. Crap, if she told someone that I was unpleasant backstage, the media would have a field day. There would be threads in forums on like titled “JUN IS A BASTARD IN PERSON!” and that would affect sales, which means Johnny would be on my case. If you want to stay on Johnny's good side, you DON'T do anything to decrease sales. That means I needed an attitude adjustment. Quick. I took a breath and began to think of happier things, like Harry Potter. How I loved the adventures of the boy-who-lived. I felt my mood lift slightly, but it still wasn't enough to do the trick. I glanced down at the assistant, who was still wearing the ridiculously subservient expression on her face. She reminded me of a house elf. That was it! I'd treat her as a house elf! Not saying that I'd order her around and make her a slave (What would Hermione think?!) but just to make her tolerable. She was a misguided creature that liked to do things for me; I shouldn't resent her for interrupting my reading time. The next thing I knew, I felt a smile on my face.
“Nope, nothing at all. I'm just a little tired.” I replied with a grin. The assistant, who I'll now refer to as “Winky” relaxed a bit at my casual tone.
“I bet you are, with all the running around that you have to do with the games shows and the dramas...” she rambled as she opened the door and held it open for me.
“It's all in a day's work.” I answered nonchalantly as we got to the door of the makeup room (I told you it was close). I began to reach for the knob, but was halted as Winky stepped directly into the path of my hand, another terrified/subservient/awe-stuck expression on her face.
“Matsumoto-san” she said as her gaze fell flat on the floor between us “I'm sorry to bother you, and this must be very unprofessional of me...” she started. I held my breath. There are only two ways she could end that sentence. Either she wanted my autograph, or she wanted to have my babies. I honestly really didn't feel like giving her either, but the autograph was the much lesser of the two evils. I don't date house elves. So you can imagine the vast relief I felt when she suddenly began to fumble around in her purse and pulled out a CD.
“... could you please sign this?” she asked almost trembling in fear. I could tell by the waver in her voice that she was close to tears. Now, I may not date house elves, but I don't like to see them cry.
“Are you ok?” I asked, bending down so I could check her face for tears. She clearly didn't expect me to do that and as soon as our eyes met, she turned and covered her face with her hands.
“I'm fine. I....I've just been a fan of yours for so long...and now I get to work with you a little...I'm just overwhelmed, you're so nice!” she babbled. About halfway through, she finally succumbed to the tears that had been welling up, making her words almost incomprehensible. The sobbing and the fandom incited an automatic response and without even thinking about it, I began to act. I pulled my handkerchief out of my back pocket and immediately began to gently dab at her tears.
“Shh, it's ok. You don't have to cry.” I said gently. Her sobs subsided and it wasn't long before I found her gazing up at me through matted lashes adoringly. I took this opportunity to take the CD and Sharpie from her grasp and sign it: “Tears don't suit you, always keep smiling and do your best. <3 Matsumoto Jun PS- You can keep the hankercheif.” A hug, a picture on her camera phone and about a thousand “Thank you”s later, I finally found myself in the make-up chair. Ryoko, our coordi pursed her lips and frowned at me when I walked in.
“I sent for you 15 minutes ago.” she chided as I plopped down in my seat.
“I was detained” I replied in the same condescending tone.
“What was her name?”
“I don't know” I really didn't. And I most certainly wasn't going to tell Ryoko that I had nicknamed the girl after a house elf. I get enough smack about Harry Potter as it is. “Just another adoring fan”
“Geez, as much as I try and tell myself otherwise. They more you prove me right. You Johnny's Boys are all the same.” she muttered as she began to blend several shades of foundation to get my match my skin tone. I glared at her, not so much because of what she said, but because I really couldn't refute it.
We were really all alike. All groomed, trained, and molded to fit a certain ideal in the (predominantly) female psyche. We were taught how to dance, and flip and literally perform tricks. We were given opportunities to appear on shows to highlight our silly sides, make some people laugh. They gave us those pretty songs to sing, filled with lyrics that spoke of “forever” and “love” and the other things that make a sentimental heart soar. But most importantly, we learned how to use our God-given abilities and attributes make us be loved. Sho's a nerd, so he uses every chance he gets to show off his fluency in English or showcase his knowledge of current events. The more intellectual types don't feel SO silly lusting after a guy in a boy band if he's the smart one. And the occasional shirtless pic to show off that belly ring of his most certainly doesn't hurt his appeal. Nino and Ohno are silly and they totally work the humorous angle on TV appearances, game shows etc. They draw in the ones with a soft spot for the “adorkable” types. Aiba takes the energetic cute thing to a new level, which makes everyone with a maternal instinct want to take care of him and keep him out of mischief. And finally you have yours truly, after outgrowing my uberly-cute munchkin-ness at let's say, 18. I've gone on to take the role of the “sexy” member of the group. The one with the smoldering gaze, the one that is seen as a bit of a perfectionist and at times overbearing for his age, the one is able to seduce women of all ages. I've actually gotten a bit of a reputation for going for older women thanks to a couple of the dramas and movies I have done. Not that it really bothers me so much, the only time it does is when I find the oba-sans in the grocery stores or in restaurants undressing me with their eyes. That's just a little creepy.
But then again it's all in a day's work for an idol. The adoration and fame is great, I'm not going to lie to you. I profit a great deal from all the affection. But I'm not going to say that it's all peaches and cream. There are days when you wake up and think “Exactly what the hell am I doing?” or nights where the pressure of it all gets so great that you would trade it all in for a day where you could walk around with out a hat and glasses, hang out with that platonic female friend you've known for over a decade and even take the train without getting mobbed or worrying about the sleepless stalkerazzi. I'm lucky in the respect that I don't ever have to worry about where my next meal is coming from, but at the same time that security comes at the price of giving up any hopes of a normal life. I'm complaining a lot, but sometimes I wonder what I could have become if left alone to finish school like every other guy in the world. Oh, well the past is just that. The trick is to learn your part so well, that you yourself can't even tell when you're acting anymore.
“Did I say something wrong?”
I snapped out of my self-obsessed thoughts and found Ryoko peering down at me, make-up brush in hand. I was a bit shocked, having been employed by Johnny's for almost 8 years now and having her own connections to fame (she's the daughter of a well-known actor and has been linked to several of my co-workers around JE), Ryoko's never been the adoring fan-girl type. She's been thoroughly disenchanted by the idol mystique and as a result rarely takes any crap or takes our feelings into much consideration. She's known to let loose her wrath on those that cross her, so getting a bit of sympathy from the likes of her was pretty freaking amazing. I am good. I gazed up at her with my soulful eyes and just simply replied:
“Oh, it's nothing. Don't you worry your pretty little head about me” adding a suave smile to the end of my sentence. She stared at me for a second, frozen before attacking me with the make-up brush.
“Ow, hey!” I cried as I tried to dodge the rough jabs she was giving me. “This is not blending! This is abuse!” I cried. She didn't relent.
“What have I told you guys about pulling that idol shit with me?” she grumbled through clenched teeth as she reached for the tweezers. I prayed to whatever deity that was watching this heinous act of violence, and hoped for some divine intervention.
“I'm- I'm sorry, Ryoko-chan! Don't hurt me!” I pleaded almost pitifully, in my terror; I had forgotten I was talking to the only female in Japan that loathed hearing her name used endearingly by any JE idol (that she wasn't dating at the time).
“Don't call me that!” she seethed as the tweezers came in closer.
“I'm sorry! Forgive me! I'm stupid idol fluff, I know, just please, let me keep my eyebrows!” I begged shamelessly as I prepared myself for the sting of my eyebrows getting plucked. About ten seconds passed and I still felt no pain. I opened my eyes (that had slammed tight out of terror) and saw Ryoko gazing down at me with her a rather pleased expression on her face.
“What?” I asked, completely puzzled by her sudden contentment.
“Thanks Jun-kun” she smiled using that annoyingly improper and sing-songy nickname she had for me. This coming from a woman who had issues with “-chan.”
“For what?” I asked, still not following.
“For reminding me, that despite all the glitz and glamour and all that other craziness that they teach you over at Johnny's school for the ridiculously worshiped, you boys are still real people, with real fears. Like getting your eyebrows plucked off.” she said with a cheeky little smile.
She was nuts.
“You're welcome... I guess...” I answered wondering if the heart attack was really worth the thank you. She continued to beam.
“Y'know, Jun-kun I guess they're right, you really are cute.” she commented as she began to paint my face. I grinned smugly to myself. I had to be something, not even the JE-hater could resist my charms. But suddenly she stopped and narrowed her eyes at me.
“But don't think that your face entitles you to anything. I mean, yes Johnny pays my salary, and everything you learn with him teaches you otherwise. But really, it's the truth. You just happened to strike the genetic lottery, even that wasn't your doing, it was your parents.” she lectured. This I knew, I mean I really did. You can't just be a pretty face to survive this industry you have to have some personality to go with it. While it's not bad to hear this type of stuff every once in a while, I hardly think that I had done anything to deserve a lecture today.
“Do you have a point, Ryoko?” I asked bluntly. She stopped babbling and shot me a look before sighing. She knew she had gotten carried away.
“Look, you just keep your ego to a minimum, and your demands non-existent and I won't dress you like I dress those idiots in KAT-TUN.” she spat. I was instantly reminded of the God-awful ensembles that my juniors had to perform in- there was a lot of fringe, and sparkles and even some fur (that had the head still attached). Like I said, the woman is vengeful. I nodded silently, and the rest of the time went by painlessly. We chatted about random things like who's seeing who and she even asked me about what I was reading. It wasn't long before Winky appeared again to tell me that it was time for me to get on stage.
“You're public awaits, my Lord” Ryoko announced mockingly with a bow as she stepped away from the chair so I could get up. I had enough of the idol-bashing. Two could play at this game. I walked over to her and gently pulled her upright so that she was facing me. With one hand I tilted her chin so I could look deep into her eyes and I told her softly:
“You don't ever have to bow to me, Ryoko-chan” in my most sincere, earnest voice. I saw her face flush into a bright red, before she sputtered
“Wh-what have I told you about pulling idol stuff on me!” before pulling herself out of my arms and fleeing back to the safety of her make-up counter. I gave her a devilish little smirk before I turned and followed the stunned mute Winky to the stage. Yes, Ryoko, they teach you a lot more than how to be a pretty face at Johnny's. Suddenly I had a very good feeling about today's appearance.
Hey boy where do you get it from
Hey boy where did you go?
I learned my passion in the good old
Fashioned school of lover boys
I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things
We can do the tango just for two
I can serenade and gently play on your heart strings
Be your Valentino just for you
Ooh love - ooh lover boy
What're you doin' tonight, hey boy
Set my alarm, turn on my charm
That's because I'm a good old-fashioned lover boy
- Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy- Queen
“Matsumoto-san, they’re ready for you in make-up.”
I glanced at the nameless assistant from over my copy of The Metamorphosis and kept silent as I put a conscious effort into keeping my brows from furrowing in irritation.
“Alright, I'll be right there,” I told her, not moving an inch. I’d get up as soon as I finished this page… I was about halfway through when I heard a tap coming from by the door. I looked up again and saw a lady standing there, watching me read my book, obviously waiting on me. How annoying. The make-up room was down the freaking hall, I didn’t need an escort to walk 30 feet. I raised my book over my face so she couldn’t see my roll my eyes and exhaled dramatically as I doggy-eared the page I was on and reluctantly rolled off the couch. The family had just realized that the enormous bug in Gregor's room was actually their son. I suppressed the grumble that started in the back of my head.
“Mastumoto-san, is there something wrong?”
It was the assistant again, this time she was gazing up at me with dewy-eyed look of concern. Crap, if she told someone that I was unpleasant backstage, the media would have a field day. There would be threads in forums on like titled “JUN IS A BASTARD IN PERSON!” and that would affect sales, which means Johnny would be on my case. If you want to stay on Johnny's good side, you DON'T do anything to decrease sales. That means I needed an attitude adjustment. Quick. I took a breath and began to think of happier things, like Harry Potter. How I loved the adventures of the boy-who-lived. I felt my mood lift slightly, but it still wasn't enough to do the trick. I glanced down at the assistant, who was still wearing the ridiculously subservient expression on her face. She reminded me of a house elf. That was it! I'd treat her as a house elf! Not saying that I'd order her around and make her a slave (What would Hermione think?!) but just to make her tolerable. She was a misguided creature that liked to do things for me; I shouldn't resent her for interrupting my reading time. The next thing I knew, I felt a smile on my face.
“Nope, nothing at all. I'm just a little tired.” I replied with a grin. The assistant, who I'll now refer to as “Winky” relaxed a bit at my casual tone.
“I bet you are, with all the running around that you have to do with the games shows and the dramas...” she rambled as she opened the door and held it open for me.
“It's all in a day's work.” I answered nonchalantly as we got to the door of the makeup room (I told you it was close). I began to reach for the knob, but was halted as Winky stepped directly into the path of my hand, another terrified/subservient/awe-stuck expression on her face.
“Matsumoto-san” she said as her gaze fell flat on the floor between us “I'm sorry to bother you, and this must be very unprofessional of me...” she started. I held my breath. There are only two ways she could end that sentence. Either she wanted my autograph, or she wanted to have my babies. I honestly really didn't feel like giving her either, but the autograph was the much lesser of the two evils. I don't date house elves. So you can imagine the vast relief I felt when she suddenly began to fumble around in her purse and pulled out a CD.
“... could you please sign this?” she asked almost trembling in fear. I could tell by the waver in her voice that she was close to tears. Now, I may not date house elves, but I don't like to see them cry.
“Are you ok?” I asked, bending down so I could check her face for tears. She clearly didn't expect me to do that and as soon as our eyes met, she turned and covered her face with her hands.
“I'm fine. I....I've just been a fan of yours for so long...and now I get to work with you a little...I'm just overwhelmed, you're so nice!” she babbled. About halfway through, she finally succumbed to the tears that had been welling up, making her words almost incomprehensible. The sobbing and the fandom incited an automatic response and without even thinking about it, I began to act. I pulled my handkerchief out of my back pocket and immediately began to gently dab at her tears.
“Shh, it's ok. You don't have to cry.” I said gently. Her sobs subsided and it wasn't long before I found her gazing up at me through matted lashes adoringly. I took this opportunity to take the CD and Sharpie from her grasp and sign it: “Tears don't suit you, always keep smiling and do your best. <3 Matsumoto Jun PS- You can keep the hankercheif.” A hug, a picture on her camera phone and about a thousand “Thank you”s later, I finally found myself in the make-up chair. Ryoko, our coordi pursed her lips and frowned at me when I walked in.
“I sent for you 15 minutes ago.” she chided as I plopped down in my seat.
“I was detained” I replied in the same condescending tone.
“What was her name?”
“I don't know” I really didn't. And I most certainly wasn't going to tell Ryoko that I had nicknamed the girl after a house elf. I get enough smack about Harry Potter as it is. “Just another adoring fan”
“Geez, as much as I try and tell myself otherwise. They more you prove me right. You Johnny's Boys are all the same.” she muttered as she began to blend several shades of foundation to get my match my skin tone. I glared at her, not so much because of what she said, but because I really couldn't refute it.
We were really all alike. All groomed, trained, and molded to fit a certain ideal in the (predominantly) female psyche. We were taught how to dance, and flip and literally perform tricks. We were given opportunities to appear on shows to highlight our silly sides, make some people laugh. They gave us those pretty songs to sing, filled with lyrics that spoke of “forever” and “love” and the other things that make a sentimental heart soar. But most importantly, we learned how to use our God-given abilities and attributes make us be loved. Sho's a nerd, so he uses every chance he gets to show off his fluency in English or showcase his knowledge of current events. The more intellectual types don't feel SO silly lusting after a guy in a boy band if he's the smart one. And the occasional shirtless pic to show off that belly ring of his most certainly doesn't hurt his appeal. Nino and Ohno are silly and they totally work the humorous angle on TV appearances, game shows etc. They draw in the ones with a soft spot for the “adorkable” types. Aiba takes the energetic cute thing to a new level, which makes everyone with a maternal instinct want to take care of him and keep him out of mischief. And finally you have yours truly, after outgrowing my uberly-cute munchkin-ness at let's say, 18. I've gone on to take the role of the “sexy” member of the group. The one with the smoldering gaze, the one that is seen as a bit of a perfectionist and at times overbearing for his age, the one is able to seduce women of all ages. I've actually gotten a bit of a reputation for going for older women thanks to a couple of the dramas and movies I have done. Not that it really bothers me so much, the only time it does is when I find the oba-sans in the grocery stores or in restaurants undressing me with their eyes. That's just a little creepy.
But then again it's all in a day's work for an idol. The adoration and fame is great, I'm not going to lie to you. I profit a great deal from all the affection. But I'm not going to say that it's all peaches and cream. There are days when you wake up and think “Exactly what the hell am I doing?” or nights where the pressure of it all gets so great that you would trade it all in for a day where you could walk around with out a hat and glasses, hang out with that platonic female friend you've known for over a decade and even take the train without getting mobbed or worrying about the sleepless stalkerazzi. I'm lucky in the respect that I don't ever have to worry about where my next meal is coming from, but at the same time that security comes at the price of giving up any hopes of a normal life. I'm complaining a lot, but sometimes I wonder what I could have become if left alone to finish school like every other guy in the world. Oh, well the past is just that. The trick is to learn your part so well, that you yourself can't even tell when you're acting anymore.
“Did I say something wrong?”
I snapped out of my self-obsessed thoughts and found Ryoko peering down at me, make-up brush in hand. I was a bit shocked, having been employed by Johnny's for almost 8 years now and having her own connections to fame (she's the daughter of a well-known actor and has been linked to several of my co-workers around JE), Ryoko's never been the adoring fan-girl type. She's been thoroughly disenchanted by the idol mystique and as a result rarely takes any crap or takes our feelings into much consideration. She's known to let loose her wrath on those that cross her, so getting a bit of sympathy from the likes of her was pretty freaking amazing. I am good. I gazed up at her with my soulful eyes and just simply replied:
“Oh, it's nothing. Don't you worry your pretty little head about me” adding a suave smile to the end of my sentence. She stared at me for a second, frozen before attacking me with the make-up brush.
“Ow, hey!” I cried as I tried to dodge the rough jabs she was giving me. “This is not blending! This is abuse!” I cried. She didn't relent.
“What have I told you guys about pulling that idol shit with me?” she grumbled through clenched teeth as she reached for the tweezers. I prayed to whatever deity that was watching this heinous act of violence, and hoped for some divine intervention.
“I'm- I'm sorry, Ryoko-chan! Don't hurt me!” I pleaded almost pitifully, in my terror; I had forgotten I was talking to the only female in Japan that loathed hearing her name used endearingly by any JE idol (that she wasn't dating at the time).
“Don't call me that!” she seethed as the tweezers came in closer.
“I'm sorry! Forgive me! I'm stupid idol fluff, I know, just please, let me keep my eyebrows!” I begged shamelessly as I prepared myself for the sting of my eyebrows getting plucked. About ten seconds passed and I still felt no pain. I opened my eyes (that had slammed tight out of terror) and saw Ryoko gazing down at me with her a rather pleased expression on her face.
“What?” I asked, completely puzzled by her sudden contentment.
“Thanks Jun-kun” she smiled using that annoyingly improper and sing-songy nickname she had for me. This coming from a woman who had issues with “-chan.”
“For what?” I asked, still not following.
“For reminding me, that despite all the glitz and glamour and all that other craziness that they teach you over at Johnny's school for the ridiculously worshiped, you boys are still real people, with real fears. Like getting your eyebrows plucked off.” she said with a cheeky little smile.
She was nuts.
“You're welcome... I guess...” I answered wondering if the heart attack was really worth the thank you. She continued to beam.
“Y'know, Jun-kun I guess they're right, you really are cute.” she commented as she began to paint my face. I grinned smugly to myself. I had to be something, not even the JE-hater could resist my charms. But suddenly she stopped and narrowed her eyes at me.
“But don't think that your face entitles you to anything. I mean, yes Johnny pays my salary, and everything you learn with him teaches you otherwise. But really, it's the truth. You just happened to strike the genetic lottery, even that wasn't your doing, it was your parents.” she lectured. This I knew, I mean I really did. You can't just be a pretty face to survive this industry you have to have some personality to go with it. While it's not bad to hear this type of stuff every once in a while, I hardly think that I had done anything to deserve a lecture today.
“Do you have a point, Ryoko?” I asked bluntly. She stopped babbling and shot me a look before sighing. She knew she had gotten carried away.
“Look, you just keep your ego to a minimum, and your demands non-existent and I won't dress you like I dress those idiots in KAT-TUN.” she spat. I was instantly reminded of the God-awful ensembles that my juniors had to perform in- there was a lot of fringe, and sparkles and even some fur (that had the head still attached). Like I said, the woman is vengeful. I nodded silently, and the rest of the time went by painlessly. We chatted about random things like who's seeing who and she even asked me about what I was reading. It wasn't long before Winky appeared again to tell me that it was time for me to get on stage.
“You're public awaits, my Lord” Ryoko announced mockingly with a bow as she stepped away from the chair so I could get up. I had enough of the idol-bashing. Two could play at this game. I walked over to her and gently pulled her upright so that she was facing me. With one hand I tilted her chin so I could look deep into her eyes and I told her softly:
“You don't ever have to bow to me, Ryoko-chan” in my most sincere, earnest voice. I saw her face flush into a bright red, before she sputtered
“Wh-what have I told you about pulling idol stuff on me!” before pulling herself out of my arms and fleeing back to the safety of her make-up counter. I gave her a devilish little smirk before I turned and followed the stunned mute Winky to the stage. Yes, Ryoko, they teach you a lot more than how to be a pretty face at Johnny's. Suddenly I had a very good feeling about today's appearance.
Hey boy where do you get it from
Hey boy where did you go?
I learned my passion in the good old
Fashioned school of lover boys