(no subject)
title: hard rock cafe [if i fail; cartel]
author: chartre
rating: pg-13
pairing: nishikato
summary: ryo is compelled, a little swooned god knows why, and tells this shigeaki of ichigo! ichigo! to come with him to his dressing room.
notes: fiction. also incoherent, but forgive me, nishikato must happen in fics. yes. :3 note, i used ichigo! ichigo! as a company in my ryopi fic this is where we last left it, but it's another thing in this drabble. just used the same company since i didn't have anything in mind. *shot anyway*
IF I FAIL by Cartel
Hard Rock Café - nishikato
He’s agitated. Nervous. It’s his first interview report and if he does great-great, not just good enough-he could have it published as an article somewhere in the hot column of the magazine. He’s psyched, excited; also scared and dizzy. There are too many people, and he can’t breathe too well. Still, he tries. This is for his career.
Someone shouts his name.
No, not his name; the rock star’s name. He’s coming out, finally from his concert. This is great, Shige thinks, it’s the moment he’s been waiting for. Literally. He wouldn’t be standing there backstage if it weren’t for this man. He had to be worth the interview.
Please don’t be a fraud, he prays.
So here he is, the rock star behind the scene, in another point of view. He downs his bottled water and wipes the sweat off his temple with a face towel. There is a tall man in a black suit with an enormous physique standing behind him-presumed bodyguard-telling him it’s safe, and it’s time. He calls him Nishikido-san.
He walks out of the doors, and thousands of flashes of light blind him first sight. This is why he wears shades even indoors: too much paparazzi. Doesn’t want to damage his eyes, doesn’t want the reporters to see his facial expressions when he is asked questions, those that are especially controversial and exclusive.
Reporters begin to question him various things about the concert all at the same time, some calling him Ryo-sama and others Nishikido-san, but there is one standing within the crowd, quiet, caught immovable in the sea of reporters and cameramen with flashy digitals. He quickly points out to that poor man, tells him to ask off.
He introduces himself as Shigeaki of Ichigo! Ichigo!. He wants a full report about his concert, his views, his feelings, his next ideas, his songs for the next album if there would be another.
Ryo is compelled, a little swooned God knows why, and tells this Shigeaki of Ichigo! Ichigo! to come with him to his dressing room. There is silence, and Shigeaki of Ichigo! Ichigo! walks amidst the crowd of reporters when they have suddenly dispersed to the sides, giving way to this lone man. Of course he feels awkward-how could he not, when absolutely everyone is looking at you, their faces are impossible to read?-and tries not to show too much of his face. Instead, he thinks how this is the right opportunity that’s getting him to where he wants to be. Right, this is my chance, he whispers to himself.
And they enter the VIP room, just the two of them. Ryo tells his bodyguard to "guard someone else’s body, I need some time to cool off for now."
And so being alone in the room with rock star Nishikido Ryo is intriguing, especially for Shige. Not only is he a great singer, but an idol to many as well, Shige being one of the many. Being alone with the said man also made Shige insecure. When he means to ask questions, the other party does the asking instead.
“How old are you?”
“I-um. I’m 20,” he says nervously.
Ryo also asks him out.
“Please,” he says breathlessly, “I know you want to.”
He has that look, Ryo. That look with heavy eyes, luscious lips, drunken smile-that look; the one he throws to all fan girls out there in concerts, interviews, posters, and everywhere else Ryo is in. Shige thinks he isn’t affected by it and he thinks it’s just right; but what he doesn’t know is going to be the end of his career, probably even his sama in Ryo-sama.
Something unexpected happens, and Shige is breathing harder, faster. Ryo rides his shirt up, presses against Shige on the armchair and gets on with it. He tells the latter to start asking his questions.
Shige tries, but fails. There is too much touching, too little of oxygen. He also doesn’t understand what’s happening, how it’s happening, why it’s happening-to him.
As soon as Ryo is finished, Shige is restless. He is in disarray-who wouldn’t be, this is Ryo we’re talking about-and incapable of walking out the door, let alone stand up. His breathing is still choppy, and watching Ryo adjust his necktie on isn’t helping him at all.
“Is that all?” Ryo asks, smiling. There it is again, that look.
Shige tries to clear his throat, clear his mind, because there is too much thinking, too much blood rush. “What,
“was that for?”
Ryo looks at him, stares at him for a moment.
There are a few more days of meeting, a few more days of rescheduled interview, a few more days of interaction and maybe some neurotic sex. In the end, Shige doesn’t get his column, of course; there’s just too much distraction.
And so he gets just that: the distraction.
author: chartre
rating: pg-13
pairing: nishikato
summary: ryo is compelled, a little swooned god knows why, and tells this shigeaki of ichigo! ichigo! to come with him to his dressing room.
notes: fiction. also incoherent, but forgive me, nishikato must happen in fics. yes. :3 note, i used ichigo! ichigo! as a company in my ryopi fic this is where we last left it, but it's another thing in this drabble. just used the same company since i didn't have anything in mind. *shot anyway*
IF I FAIL by Cartel
Hard Rock Café - nishikato
He’s agitated. Nervous. It’s his first interview report and if he does great-great, not just good enough-he could have it published as an article somewhere in the hot column of the magazine. He’s psyched, excited; also scared and dizzy. There are too many people, and he can’t breathe too well. Still, he tries. This is for his career.
Someone shouts his name.
No, not his name; the rock star’s name. He’s coming out, finally from his concert. This is great, Shige thinks, it’s the moment he’s been waiting for. Literally. He wouldn’t be standing there backstage if it weren’t for this man. He had to be worth the interview.
Please don’t be a fraud, he prays.
So here he is, the rock star behind the scene, in another point of view. He downs his bottled water and wipes the sweat off his temple with a face towel. There is a tall man in a black suit with an enormous physique standing behind him-presumed bodyguard-telling him it’s safe, and it’s time. He calls him Nishikido-san.
He walks out of the doors, and thousands of flashes of light blind him first sight. This is why he wears shades even indoors: too much paparazzi. Doesn’t want to damage his eyes, doesn’t want the reporters to see his facial expressions when he is asked questions, those that are especially controversial and exclusive.
Reporters begin to question him various things about the concert all at the same time, some calling him Ryo-sama and others Nishikido-san, but there is one standing within the crowd, quiet, caught immovable in the sea of reporters and cameramen with flashy digitals. He quickly points out to that poor man, tells him to ask off.
He introduces himself as Shigeaki of Ichigo! Ichigo!. He wants a full report about his concert, his views, his feelings, his next ideas, his songs for the next album if there would be another.
Ryo is compelled, a little swooned God knows why, and tells this Shigeaki of Ichigo! Ichigo! to come with him to his dressing room. There is silence, and Shigeaki of Ichigo! Ichigo! walks amidst the crowd of reporters when they have suddenly dispersed to the sides, giving way to this lone man. Of course he feels awkward-how could he not, when absolutely everyone is looking at you, their faces are impossible to read?-and tries not to show too much of his face. Instead, he thinks how this is the right opportunity that’s getting him to where he wants to be. Right, this is my chance, he whispers to himself.
And they enter the VIP room, just the two of them. Ryo tells his bodyguard to "guard someone else’s body, I need some time to cool off for now."
And so being alone in the room with rock star Nishikido Ryo is intriguing, especially for Shige. Not only is he a great singer, but an idol to many as well, Shige being one of the many. Being alone with the said man also made Shige insecure. When he means to ask questions, the other party does the asking instead.
“How old are you?”
“I-um. I’m 20,” he says nervously.
Ryo also asks him out.
“Please,” he says breathlessly, “I know you want to.”
He has that look, Ryo. That look with heavy eyes, luscious lips, drunken smile-that look; the one he throws to all fan girls out there in concerts, interviews, posters, and everywhere else Ryo is in. Shige thinks he isn’t affected by it and he thinks it’s just right; but what he doesn’t know is going to be the end of his career, probably even his sama in Ryo-sama.
Something unexpected happens, and Shige is breathing harder, faster. Ryo rides his shirt up, presses against Shige on the armchair and gets on with it. He tells the latter to start asking his questions.
Shige tries, but fails. There is too much touching, too little of oxygen. He also doesn’t understand what’s happening, how it’s happening, why it’s happening-to him.
As soon as Ryo is finished, Shige is restless. He is in disarray-who wouldn’t be, this is Ryo we’re talking about-and incapable of walking out the door, let alone stand up. His breathing is still choppy, and watching Ryo adjust his necktie on isn’t helping him at all.
“Is that all?” Ryo asks, smiling. There it is again, that look.
Shige tries to clear his throat, clear his mind, because there is too much thinking, too much blood rush. “What,
“was that for?”
Ryo looks at him, stares at him for a moment.
There are a few more days of meeting, a few more days of rescheduled interview, a few more days of interaction and maybe some neurotic sex. In the end, Shige doesn’t get his column, of course; there’s just too much distraction.
And so he gets just that: the distraction.