Gakino squeezed her hands tighter and nodded his head.
“Well,” he said as he freed one hand so that he could pull money out of his pocket, “Let’s get you home so you can start missing me and I can find out what Shun wants.”
*
After Gakino left, she knew she couldn’t wait anymore. It was time. She’d kept all this hidden from everyone she knew and loved, and it was time to let some folks in.
She picked up her phone and grabbed the case of Tenshi’s latest CD. She snapped a picture of the cover art, a photo of Shun, Ryo, Hiroya, Sano, with Gakino on the far right. They were all dressed in white, and, most importantly, their faces were all pretty clear. Opening her mail app, she typed in some addresses before she had a chance to reconsider. She stumbled over the subject line, but decided she couldn’t put Check Out My Hot Famous Boyfriend in the subject line without one of her friends suspecting her account had been hacked. And poor Bethany would have a heart attack if she broke the news like that. Then she went back and forth on the message itself. She tried the line Ohmygodmylifeistoofreakingamazing! And then the more sedate So, I’ve got a boyfriend. Can you believe it? She even typed In Japan, I would call him kareshi. She deleted each.
To give herself time to think, she attached the album cover and added a rather blurry selfie, which, she had to admit, she hadn’t dared take again despite how fuzzy it was. Gakino had leaned down in order to fit in the shot. When he shifted his weight and pulled her toward him, the camera had moved and messed up the shot. In the photo, Gakino’s arm was around her shoulders, and his hand was pushing his hair out of his eyes. Even with the blurring, you could tell he was happy. His smile was wide, and his eyes were squinted. His face looked on the verge of laughter.
She silenced the voice in her head that told her he was trained to pose.
He’d offered to take it again, but somehow it had been too embarrassing. You took photos of things you wanted to remember and of things you wanted to show other people. She wasn’t sure she had his permission to share the photo, and she was ok with wanting to remember this, but she wasn’t ok with letting Gakino know how much it all mattered...at least not yet. Although he could probably already guess, she felt better pretending the photo didn’t matter.
She made one last attempt at a message to her friends and decided weakly that pictures would have to do all the work.
Words just couldn’t explain what had happened.
———-
From: Eloise Bromleigh
< [email protected] >
To: Bethany Danae, Maia Green, Cassandra Medeiros
< [email protected] > , < [email protected] > ,
< [email protected] > ,
Subject: Exciting News!
See attachment.
———-
*
The taxi dropped him off in front of the Taipei arena. The front of the massive structure was a rounded wall of windows, but the sides were full of angles and crannies and it took him a little bit of walking until he found signs for the southern entrance.
Rounding a corner, he saw Shun talking with someone he hadn’t expected. He grinned and picked up his pace.
This might actually be worth leaving Eloise early.
Jogging toward Shun, Gakino called out to the man standing beside the long-haired idol, “Yoshida-san. It’s good to see you.”
“Yoh-san.” Yoshida said, answering him with a familiar smile. “It’s been a while.”
“Stop it with the san stuff. You’ve spent almost a decade yelling at me. I think we can stop with the formalities.”
“Even with things as they are?” Yoshida asked, referring to his recent demotion.
“Especially with that. Even if you aren’t my manager anymore, you’ll always be worth five of me.”
“Six,” Yoshida teased.
“Six,” Gakino agreed, clapping Yoshida on the shoulder. “What are you doing here?”
“Shun-kun told me that you needed my help.” Yoshida nodded toward the serious idol beside him.
“Apparently, you and I are supervising our show here and in the other international venues.”
“We are?” Gakino asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Shun continued with mock seriousness. “Been doing it for months apparently. We’ve been inspecting the sites, planning the staging. We’re even going to start doing promo interviews to talk about what we’ve seen. That’s why we’re here this week. And that’s why we’ll be back in Taiwan frequently over the next month or so.”
Gakino laughed, relieved. “Aren’t we industrious?”
“Don’t smile yet, Gakino,” Shun warned, pulling his long hair off his face. “It’s going to be a lot of work. It’s not only Taipei, you know? It’s Seoul, Bangkok–”
“I get it. I get it. Thank you. Thank all of you.”
Ignoring his thanks with his customary brusqueness, he continued, “Yoshida, our long-time manager, of course, had to be called in to help. Because of the amount of trust we have in him, you see?”
“Of course.” Gakino crossed his arms and leaned his weight on his right leg, truly relaxed for the first time in weeks. “But where did all this come from?”
Yoshida answered, “It was actually Hiroya’s idea.”
“That’s right,” Shun added. “Our leader. The accidental genius. We were all thinking about what to do after you handed Sugiyama his own ass. Sano gave us the play-by-play. Nice going by the way.
Yoshida laughed. “Even I heard about it over at P-group. All the junior groups are talking about it. There are a number of folks who are calling you their hero.”
“Well, the guys and I started to worry about Sugiyama. He has power and Kishimoto’s full support. None of us could figure out how we were going to protect you from the fall out. Then Hiro wondered why we couldn’t prove the fans right. Why couldn’t you be in Taiwan doing something everyone already thinks you’re doing? Why couldn’t you be checking out venues? It sounded good. So Sano called up Yoshida to give it all an official touch. And here we are.”
“I’ve called in some favors,” Yoshida said, glancing down at his watch. “In about twenty minutes, three Taiwanese radio stations and two TV networks will be here. You’ll both give a few interviews about how excited you are to perform here, how much you love Taiwan, and how you think this venue’s perfect. After this, even Kishimoto-san should be satisfied. You’re doing your jobs. More than that, you’re doing Sugiyama’s.”
“But isn’t this place too small for us.” He looked up at the arena. “It looks like it has a 15K capacity.”
“With our stage design, it will only seat ten thousand,” Shun answered
“What? That’s a third of the size of our smallest venues in Japan. It’s not even a fifth of the crowd we drew in Tokyo last year. And we sold out that venue for days. Are you sure this is ok? Sugiyama’s only been looking at super venues.”
“I’ve decided this tour is going to be about Tenshi reconnecting with our fans,” Shun replied. “Super group gets intimate. We want to show appreciation to our fans, that kind of thing. More shows. Smaller venues. It’ll take more time, but we won’t loose revenue–which should please Kishimoto-san. And we’ll have more time in Taiwan–which should please Eloise.”
At Shun’s casual mention of Eloise, Gakino smiled. His best friends were accepting her, claiming her as one of their own. They were an insular group, even with the girls they dated–especially with them, actually. In the past ten years, they had seen a lot of so-called friends and lovers fall by the wayside, and their tight-knit group had only become more so over time. He opened his mouth to say thank you again, but Shun cut him off, shaking his head.
“I’ve had enough of that guy calling the shots. We are Tenshi. Yoshida-san is Tenshi. We’ve all worked together to build ourselves up from nothing, and I’m not letting some stranger–no matter what Kishimoto-san thinks of him–run our careers. I’ve been point man on our concerts since year th
ree. And I think it’s time we remind Sugiyama and Kishimoto who we are. So, don’t worry about anything. On the plane ride over, I memorized a few Mandarin phrases that should guarantee that all of the interviews see air time.” Shun finished with a wink and his trademark smile. Gakino recognized the performance. Shun was going to dazzle the reporters for Tenshi, for him, and for Eloise.
“Thank you, Shun”
“Just call me Cupid.”
“Okay, Cupid. Thanks for this. Eloise doesn’t know all that’s happening, but I’m happier knowing that we aren’t pushing Tenshi to the brink of disaster.
“This is a temporary solution, Gakino.”
“We’re going to need a permanent one.”
“You sure?”
“A really permanent one.”
“All right, then. Let Cupid take you on a tour of this place, so you’ll have something to say to the reporters when they come. And we have got to find you a bathroom. And a comb. Your hair looks like shit.”
*
Her phone had been pinging for the last few hours. Each time, she told herself it was one of her blog subscriptions or a promotional email. There was no way her friends had found time to read and reply to her message. But, after five hours it had become impossible to keep up the pretense. She wasn’t avoiding her friends, not really. But there was no reason to face her friends piecemeal. Better to wait until they’d all had a chance to weigh in. Or so she thought.
———-
From: Bethany Danae
< [email protected] >
To: Eloise Bromleigh
< [email protected] >
RE: Exciting News!
I can’t believe you got to meet an actual celebrity!!! Your life is so amazing!
I don’t know if you realize that you only sent pics…. there was no message in the body? Email glitch? I can’t wait to hear the story.
I am sooooooo happy you aren’t always cooped up in your school. I know you. You’re always head in the sand, 120% into work. Sassy has been complaining about the lack of emails by the way. So be prepared. She loves you and worries about you. I tell her that you aren’t hurt or maimed or anything terrible, but she won’t accept that you’ve buried yourself in work. I even showed her that email you sent about having to teach younger students that you weren’t fully certified to teach–how’s that going by the way?–but that didn’t satisfy her. Maia and I are flying up to take her out for drinks next week after she turns in her thesis draft to her advisor. She really needs to relax. She’s always been high strung but these last few weeks… Wow! Next time, if you have time, send some photos of your house, your school, your students. I’d love to be able to imagine you where you are!
Love you!
———-
From: Cassandra Medeiros
< [email protected] >
To: Eloise Bromleigh
< [email protected] >
Subject: My reply to your Exciting News!
That’s right. I replied to your work account. Since Bethany insists you’re always at work (and that’s why you don’t write), I thought I’d have a better chance of hearing back from you if I bypassed your personal email.
Ok, that’s enough lecturing from Your Mamma-Sass.
So! You met a famous singer? How Cool!
What else have you been up to?
I have to ask because you never e-mail us. (I lied. Of course, there’s more lecturing. It’s been months, girl.) And just so you know, when you get back to the States during your summer break, I’m going to pound you. Seriously. I’ve been taking kickboxing. Got to get this grad school stress and aggression out somehow. Besides, you know how dad is about life in the big bad city no matter how many times I tell him I don’t live in Chicago. I keep insisting that I’m more scary than anything that skulks about in alleyways, but when pops is paying $15.00/SF for a North Shore loft, I’ll pretend to play along. Plus, although I am already so bad ass, kick boxing legitimizes my claims to future world domination. Right?
But rest assured, little lady, if you continue this bullshit radio silence anymore, I will be demonstrating my roundhouse kick on you. This is your FINAL WARNING. Just send a line, like ‘I’m alive’ every few days. I’m not looking for an essay or anything. Or even a real email, just some assurance that you haven't been swallowed alive by raging tsunami waters or crumbling walls in an earthquake. Oh, god! I am turning into my father.
Anyway, I don’t hate ya. At least not yet. HUG ATTACK!
Sassy out!
———-
From: Maia Green
< [email protected] >
To: Eloise Bromleigh
< [email protected] >
RE: Exciting News!
You’re dating a singer! When did this happen?! I can’t believe you didn’t even tell Bethany before now! So, did Cassy or Bethany put the pieces of your email together and figure out that you were dating the guy? I bet they didn’t. Today is shaping up so much more nicely than I thought it was going to.
How long have you two been together? Why did you wait to tell us? What’s wrong with him? Does he have to keep you some big forbidden secret or something? And just how famous is this guy? You’re gonna have to tell me because you know I hate the internet.
And couldn’t you take a better photo? You know I can barely read anything about anybody in a picture, and you send me a blurry one. I can hardly see the guy’s eyes. So you do not have final approval.
Man, wait until Cassy figures out what you’ve failed to mention. This summer is going to be amazing. In case you decide to Skype and fix this mess you made, you’ve just got to let me join. I do not want to miss the meltdowns and freak-outs that are essentially guaranteed.
Congratulations, Eloise. I’m happy for you. You deserve this more than anyone else I know. Besides me of course.
But, with you off in Taiwan and catching some dream hunk celebrity, I’ve really gotta rethink my priorities. I’ve been in this temp job for 10 years and no arm candy to show for it. Something’s wrong with my life plan.
We miss you, Eloise.
———-
Three strikes for being evasive. She should have known that none–or almost none of her friends would realize that she’d sent them a photo of her with her boyfriend. Except Maia. Count on Maia to read the subtext. But couldn’t you count on your friends to read between the lines? When would she ever let someone hug her like that–celebrity or not–if they weren’t more than strangers?
This is what you got when you tried to avoid awkward conversations.
More awkwardness.
Pressing reply, she did what she should have done months ago.
———-
From: Eloise Bromleigh
< [email protected] >
To: Bethany Danae, Maia Green, Cassandra Medeiros
< [email protected] > , < [email protected] > ,
< [email protected] > ,
RE: Exciting News!
Hi guys. Um……. Surprise! I sent you a photo of me with my boyfriend. (And of my boyfriend with his band.)
Yes, you read that right. Eloise and her boyfriend.
If you want to hear more of the exciting story of how normal ol’ Eloise snatched up Japanese super-star Gakino Yoh, log in to Skype this weekend… Saturday morning 9 a.m., my time. I don’t know what that means for all of you. It’s way too much math.
I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all sooner. And I’m even sorrier that I fumbled and chickened out and, well, made a hash of everything. Fear not, Sassy. I will grovel in earnest in five days time.
Really immeasurably regretful. I love and miss all of you.
Eloise
———-
She knew she’d get e-mails from all of them again. Bethany would be jubilant about Gakino and very understanding of her need for space. Maia would congratulate her on finally fessing up and for scheduling a group chat. Sassy would probably launch an e
mail barrage demanding a sooner Skype time, but Eloise needed five days. Five days to figure out how she was going to explain something she didn’t understand herself.
Should she start with Once upon a time?
CHAPTER 12
She woke up to the clatter of pots and pans. Gakino was alternately singing and whistling though the music he made was lost in the noise of his cooking and his occasional screams. “No. No. No. Calm down water. Calm down.”
Lifting her head from the pillow she squinted.
Then she heard, “Omuleto you are so beautiful. You will make her smile. Here we go, flip.”
She was tired, but she had to see this.
Gakino was here in her home for the second weekend in a row. The rare treat filled her with happiness. She swept her feet off the bed and pushed them into her slippers and shuffled out into the kitchen. Gakino’s long bangs were held back with her barrettes and he had on one of her pink aprons. He hummed happily as he worked. All was in line with Gakino’s sweet Japanese housewife routine—everything except for the fact that he cooked in a tank and boxers and looked yummy.
Hearing her come in, Gakino turned around and beamed a smile her way. “Ohayou!” Walking over to her with a pan and a spoon in his hand with what looked like the makings of pancakes, he spread his arms out wide to make room for her. She thought he was going to give her a quick peck on the cheek, but he leaned in and his lips sought hers. The kiss was powerful and demanding and she grabbed onto his shirt and leaned into him. Breathless, they stopped, his forehead resting on hers.
“Good morning,” he whispered.
She tried to whisper it, too, but the words were stuck. She gulped, thinking about last night. “Hi,” she croaked.
“Ok. Have a seat. Your breakfast is on its way.”
She watched him bustle about the kitchen. He was even more enthusiastic than usual. She didn’t know she had that many dishes until she saw them all spread out. He had used every single dish she had and, looking closer, she decided some dishes she hadn’t owned before. There were empty bags from markets and shops around her house. He had gone out buying groceries and dishes, too. Not a single bit of her counter space was available, and he had made enough food to feed her for a week, but she knew that he would eat most of it. His appetite for food was as large as his appetite for life. He had noodles and miso soup and pancakes and rice and sliced fruit, and bacon, and sausage, and what looked like hamburger patties in gravy, and bread. He was in the process of bringing plates to the table which was sagging under the weight.
How to Date Japanese Idols (The Tenshi Series) Page 15