Love So Sweet [an Ohno Satoshi love story] - Chapter 39, part 2
Meanwhile, nearby in the artsy part of Brooklyn sat Rina in her scheduled meeting in front of three Japanese media associates.
“… We would like to hire you as our film’s chief soundtrack composer.” the first suited person repeated.
Rina blinked several times in disbelief.
“All your other pieces of work were reviewed; your mashup song for the IPod commercial was particularly innovative. After deliberating, we believe that you have the right sensibility to deliver the amount of sensitivity we’re seeking, but also a powerful mood, for Shiawase Na No Ni (I’m Happy With Just This).” another nodded quite sincerely.
“Since Shiawase Na No Ni is going to be produced almost entirely in Japan, we would have chosen a local composer, but Yamashita Kousuke specifically recommended you, Katsumi-san. You were Yamashita-san’s assistant a few years ago, am I right?” the third one explained. “This IS going to require you to stay in Japan for about a month’s time, perhaps travel back and forth several more times if the occasion arises. Around the time of the movie’s release, some kinks might pop up, naturally.”
“Trust us, we realize that accepting our offer would be a big commitment for you, to completely leave all your projects behind for an extended amount of time. But we believe that it would be an invaluable experience for you. It might be your biggest venture yet; you would be almost completely in charge (only discussing with the director and producer,) a rare opportunity for someone of your young age.”
“What do you say, Katsumi-san?”
Not having uttered a word since they had brought forth the proposal, Rina sat there introspectively. Finally, she cleared her throat and bowed down at the table. “Thank you so much! I’m - so thrilled, but… may I think about this? I will get back to you with my decision by this Friday.”
On the bus that would take her back home, Rina fell even deeper into thought. They’re giving me a chance, a concrete reason to go back… she contemplated - it made her happy, which in turn made her uneasy. Why did she want to leave New York when she was doing perfectly well here? Why didn’t she “live it up,” as Cassidy insisted, like she used to only a few years ago? Was she not content? Here she had her parents, her various friends, and she was always in-demand for her music skills. But… would she really last, continuing as she was without feeling any deep connection? There was something about Japan’s persevering traditions living in harmony with the modern world that was more settling to her romantic soul than these constantly shifting New York streets. Plus, she’d already be there for Sho’s wedding, right?
Of course, there was always that one person in Japan who always came to mind - Ohno Satoshi. Her days were often on-the-run, but she was often reminded of him in little ways. How would it be like to see him again after three years without having kept up with each other at all? Again, not for a lack of feeling, but a mutual surrender to the ways fate would take them. Rina didn’t know how she would react, but she surely did miss him deep down.
Riding past the dark (but still active) streets, something caught her eye. In front of a charming painted brick building face hung a banner illuminated by the streetlamp. The sign said KAZE, the same one as the flyer in the mail. Since New York is the city that never sleeps, a crowd of people was milling outside the door and it seemed like more were inside as well. Rina’s hand flew to pull the wire above her head, and the bus came to a halt.
It felt like forever since she had visited an art exhibition, and this one felt like it was worth the time to explore even though she still had an unfinished musical score back home. The whimsical intelligence of each artwork charmed her sensibilities. There was one corner filled with intricate sketches of everything from cartoonishly realistic people to a zebra with only two black stripes. Up close, the microphone drawing was fascinatingly detailed and was like a modern Find-It illustration. A ceiling-to-floor curtain of handcrafted umbrellas strung together (whose overlays were constructed of anything from garbage bags to colorful yarn, to real feathers and paper clips) hung in the middle of one hallway; they would spin like tops if you gave them a nudge. Sitting on the floor, right where people expected to have room to walk, was a giant clay head with thick-rimmed, sequin black glasses. Each eye was a glass bowl filled with water and a single swimming goldfish. The head grinned up at a crumpled newspaper raincloud. It was all tied together by the hip, oddball background music with a ukulele, whistling and hyper techno inserted every now and then.
This haphazardly skillful style seemed so familiar to Rina, somehow. Each piece she studied with care, and many brought a smile to her face. Whoever this “Sammy” was, he was certainly a curious soul. From the raw-edged objects he’d created, it didn’t seem like he was trying for the awe factor or make people think too hard about hidden meanings. These merely sprouted from his imagination and he just wanted to share his love of creating art with people.
After some time, Rina wandered into the very center of the exhibition and was captured by what stood there. It was an undersized but emotional focus for the show - a beautiful bronze, gnarled tree with a twisting trunk and wide, fanning branches. Taking a closer look, she realized that it was made of hundreds of metal instrument strings taken from violins, guitars and harps, even old pianos, wound around wedges of smooth driftwood. Instead of leaves, dozens of round, vintage, yellowing light bulbs hung from the tree’s branches lit up to diffuse soft golden light. Although all the other artworks had been urban and hipster in feeling, they led up to this one intuitive design.
Someone noticed her and how she had been gazing at the tree for the longest time with a wistful expression. The man walked up beside her and spoke up.
“Did you know that not one drop of glue was used to hold this together? All the light bulbs were salvaged from old lamps, salons… It was tough to find ones that still lit up.”
She broke out of her thoughts and turned to the blonde, bearded man in a black turtleneck.
“Are you the artist?” she asked.
“No, no, I’m the gallery owner. My name is Craig Michaelson.” he corrected politely. “Sammy is too shy to mix with his audience.”
“Oh, really?”
“But he would like to know their opinions… So what do you think about this?”
“It’s… intriguing. I would imagine that with the electricity off, it would look like an ice tree, but now with the lights on, it looks like warm summer. I like the contrast of that, and the softness of the wood with the wires; the wires look like veins almost, like… a muscle. Can you see it? It’s like it’s alive.”
The man was surprised at her close analysis. Knowing a business deal when he saw one, he proceeded methodically.
“It’s certainly something both inspirational and functional as well. You could use it for lighting and as a centerpiece in your home.” He waited for it.
She nodded. Actually, it would go perfectly in the empty space of floor in her apartment, now that she thought about it.
“Would you like to - make an offer to buy it from the artist?” he asked.
Rina raised her brows. “Buy it? I - I hadn’t considered… Are you sure? This seems…”
Always eager for a sale, Michaelson nodded earnestly. “I will go speak to him right now and bring him down to meet you!”
credit: wingsonwords
Having waited several hours for a certain someone to show (although realistically impossible), Ohno had fallen asleep on the couch in the upper lounge and was lost in a fuzzy dream of underwater fishing in the middle of Kokuritsu Stadium. Michaelson prodded him in the shoulder.
“Yamette yo, Jun, that tickles~” Ohno giggled sleepily.
“Ohno-san, please wake up!” the man urged in careful Japanese, wondering what the heck Ohno was dreaming about.
Ohno was jolted out of his sleep. “Eh, is it time for closing, Michaelson-san…?” Ohno grumbled.
“No, it’s only 8:30… but listen, there is someone who would like to buy one of your pieces! Isn’t that great news?”
Ohno’s brow furrowed a little and he sat up slowly. “Majide? Why? Which one?”
“The tree. She would like to have it for her apartment.”
“Heh~ I don’t know… I hadn’t planned on selling anything. This is all just for people to see.”
“But this means that there’s a demand! Selling your work makes you a legitimate artist!” At Ohno’s hurt look, Michaelson changed his words. “N-not that you aren’t an artist already, it’s just that - if you start to sell your works, your vision be more “out there” amongst the public, you’ll have more influence.”
The artist smiled softly. “I’m not looking for any of that, Michaelson-san.” Besides, unknown to Michaelson, he definitely had enough public exposure anyway. “That tree means a lot to me.” he added honestly.
Michaelson sighed. “She seems like a very nice young woman, Ohno-san, very sincere in her offer and inspired by your work. At least speak to her. Only then should you make a definite decision.”
“… Alright.” Ohno yielded with a sigh. “Where is she?”
“Just down below. See, right there.” Michaelson pointed outside the two-way windows (which had a view of the whole gallery) at the young woman in white. “I’ll introduce you.”
This woman was far away, but Ohno’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. He swore that… He knew that it was… He raced down the stairs with his beating chest.
credit: je_cookiedaysx
-----------------------------------------------------
Sorry for another cliffhanger XD But as I promised, they aren't over yet!
“… We would like to hire you as our film’s chief soundtrack composer.” the first suited person repeated.
Rina blinked several times in disbelief.
“All your other pieces of work were reviewed; your mashup song for the IPod commercial was particularly innovative. After deliberating, we believe that you have the right sensibility to deliver the amount of sensitivity we’re seeking, but also a powerful mood, for Shiawase Na No Ni (I’m Happy With Just This).” another nodded quite sincerely.
“Since Shiawase Na No Ni is going to be produced almost entirely in Japan, we would have chosen a local composer, but Yamashita Kousuke specifically recommended you, Katsumi-san. You were Yamashita-san’s assistant a few years ago, am I right?” the third one explained. “This IS going to require you to stay in Japan for about a month’s time, perhaps travel back and forth several more times if the occasion arises. Around the time of the movie’s release, some kinks might pop up, naturally.”
“Trust us, we realize that accepting our offer would be a big commitment for you, to completely leave all your projects behind for an extended amount of time. But we believe that it would be an invaluable experience for you. It might be your biggest venture yet; you would be almost completely in charge (only discussing with the director and producer,) a rare opportunity for someone of your young age.”
“What do you say, Katsumi-san?”
Not having uttered a word since they had brought forth the proposal, Rina sat there introspectively. Finally, she cleared her throat and bowed down at the table. “Thank you so much! I’m - so thrilled, but… may I think about this? I will get back to you with my decision by this Friday.”
On the bus that would take her back home, Rina fell even deeper into thought. They’re giving me a chance, a concrete reason to go back… she contemplated - it made her happy, which in turn made her uneasy. Why did she want to leave New York when she was doing perfectly well here? Why didn’t she “live it up,” as Cassidy insisted, like she used to only a few years ago? Was she not content? Here she had her parents, her various friends, and she was always in-demand for her music skills. But… would she really last, continuing as she was without feeling any deep connection? There was something about Japan’s persevering traditions living in harmony with the modern world that was more settling to her romantic soul than these constantly shifting New York streets. Plus, she’d already be there for Sho’s wedding, right?
Of course, there was always that one person in Japan who always came to mind - Ohno Satoshi. Her days were often on-the-run, but she was often reminded of him in little ways. How would it be like to see him again after three years without having kept up with each other at all? Again, not for a lack of feeling, but a mutual surrender to the ways fate would take them. Rina didn’t know how she would react, but she surely did miss him deep down.
Riding past the dark (but still active) streets, something caught her eye. In front of a charming painted brick building face hung a banner illuminated by the streetlamp. The sign said KAZE, the same one as the flyer in the mail. Since New York is the city that never sleeps, a crowd of people was milling outside the door and it seemed like more were inside as well. Rina’s hand flew to pull the wire above her head, and the bus came to a halt.
It felt like forever since she had visited an art exhibition, and this one felt like it was worth the time to explore even though she still had an unfinished musical score back home. The whimsical intelligence of each artwork charmed her sensibilities. There was one corner filled with intricate sketches of everything from cartoonishly realistic people to a zebra with only two black stripes. Up close, the microphone drawing was fascinatingly detailed and was like a modern Find-It illustration. A ceiling-to-floor curtain of handcrafted umbrellas strung together (whose overlays were constructed of anything from garbage bags to colorful yarn, to real feathers and paper clips) hung in the middle of one hallway; they would spin like tops if you gave them a nudge. Sitting on the floor, right where people expected to have room to walk, was a giant clay head with thick-rimmed, sequin black glasses. Each eye was a glass bowl filled with water and a single swimming goldfish. The head grinned up at a crumpled newspaper raincloud. It was all tied together by the hip, oddball background music with a ukulele, whistling and hyper techno inserted every now and then.
This haphazardly skillful style seemed so familiar to Rina, somehow. Each piece she studied with care, and many brought a smile to her face. Whoever this “Sammy” was, he was certainly a curious soul. From the raw-edged objects he’d created, it didn’t seem like he was trying for the awe factor or make people think too hard about hidden meanings. These merely sprouted from his imagination and he just wanted to share his love of creating art with people.
After some time, Rina wandered into the very center of the exhibition and was captured by what stood there. It was an undersized but emotional focus for the show - a beautiful bronze, gnarled tree with a twisting trunk and wide, fanning branches. Taking a closer look, she realized that it was made of hundreds of metal instrument strings taken from violins, guitars and harps, even old pianos, wound around wedges of smooth driftwood. Instead of leaves, dozens of round, vintage, yellowing light bulbs hung from the tree’s branches lit up to diffuse soft golden light. Although all the other artworks had been urban and hipster in feeling, they led up to this one intuitive design.
Someone noticed her and how she had been gazing at the tree for the longest time with a wistful expression. The man walked up beside her and spoke up.
“Did you know that not one drop of glue was used to hold this together? All the light bulbs were salvaged from old lamps, salons… It was tough to find ones that still lit up.”
She broke out of her thoughts and turned to the blonde, bearded man in a black turtleneck.
“Are you the artist?” she asked.
“No, no, I’m the gallery owner. My name is Craig Michaelson.” he corrected politely. “Sammy is too shy to mix with his audience.”
“Oh, really?”
“But he would like to know their opinions… So what do you think about this?”
“It’s… intriguing. I would imagine that with the electricity off, it would look like an ice tree, but now with the lights on, it looks like warm summer. I like the contrast of that, and the softness of the wood with the wires; the wires look like veins almost, like… a muscle. Can you see it? It’s like it’s alive.”
The man was surprised at her close analysis. Knowing a business deal when he saw one, he proceeded methodically.
“It’s certainly something both inspirational and functional as well. You could use it for lighting and as a centerpiece in your home.” He waited for it.
She nodded. Actually, it would go perfectly in the empty space of floor in her apartment, now that she thought about it.
“Would you like to - make an offer to buy it from the artist?” he asked.
Rina raised her brows. “Buy it? I - I hadn’t considered… Are you sure? This seems…”
Always eager for a sale, Michaelson nodded earnestly. “I will go speak to him right now and bring him down to meet you!”
credit: wingsonwords
Having waited several hours for a certain someone to show (although realistically impossible), Ohno had fallen asleep on the couch in the upper lounge and was lost in a fuzzy dream of underwater fishing in the middle of Kokuritsu Stadium. Michaelson prodded him in the shoulder.
“Yamette yo, Jun, that tickles~” Ohno giggled sleepily.
“Ohno-san, please wake up!” the man urged in careful Japanese, wondering what the heck Ohno was dreaming about.
Ohno was jolted out of his sleep. “Eh, is it time for closing, Michaelson-san…?” Ohno grumbled.
“No, it’s only 8:30… but listen, there is someone who would like to buy one of your pieces! Isn’t that great news?”
Ohno’s brow furrowed a little and he sat up slowly. “Majide? Why? Which one?”
“The tree. She would like to have it for her apartment.”
“Heh~ I don’t know… I hadn’t planned on selling anything. This is all just for people to see.”
“But this means that there’s a demand! Selling your work makes you a legitimate artist!” At Ohno’s hurt look, Michaelson changed his words. “N-not that you aren’t an artist already, it’s just that - if you start to sell your works, your vision be more “out there” amongst the public, you’ll have more influence.”
The artist smiled softly. “I’m not looking for any of that, Michaelson-san.” Besides, unknown to Michaelson, he definitely had enough public exposure anyway. “That tree means a lot to me.” he added honestly.
Michaelson sighed. “She seems like a very nice young woman, Ohno-san, very sincere in her offer and inspired by your work. At least speak to her. Only then should you make a definite decision.”
“… Alright.” Ohno yielded with a sigh. “Where is she?”
“Just down below. See, right there.” Michaelson pointed outside the two-way windows (which had a view of the whole gallery) at the young woman in white. “I’ll introduce you.”
This woman was far away, but Ohno’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. He swore that… He knew that it was… He raced down the stairs with his beating chest.
credit: je_cookiedaysx
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Sorry for another cliffhanger XD But as I promised, they aren't over yet!