Pop Rock Love

by Raine Koh

  “Ow!” she cried, holding her ankle.

  “Oh my, are you okay?” the guy exclaimed, standing up. He climbed out of the bathtub, without a single thread on him.

  Mimi quickly covered her eyes and started screaming at the top of her lungs. “You pervert! Don’t come near me! I know Kung Fu!”

  She started waving her right hand wildly around, slapping the air, while her other hand was used to shield her eyes.

  “Calm down, I’m not a pervert!” he said.

  “All perverts never admit that they are perverts! Go away!”

  “What’s going on!?” shouted Sato who had just come home. He was greeted with one of the weirdest sights ever. Mimi was on the floor, flapping her hands around and screaming her head off while his half-brother, Jiro was squatting next to her, butt naked with shampoo and soap suds in his hair. Sato grabbed a towel and threw it at Jiro.

  “Jiro, what are you doing here? How many times have I told you to call me before you barge in here!” Sato shouted. Jiro quickly wrapped the towel around his lower regions while Mimi looked at the producer helplessly. He sighed and walked towards her, carefully carrying her up in his arms and brought her to her bed. “Are you hurt?” he asked, looking at her ankle. She shook her head and answered, “Just a little traumatised,” Mimi turned her attention to the other guy, who had finally gotten out of his naked state, and was now dressed in a black tracksuit. “Who is he?” she asked Sato.

  The guy bowed at her and said, “I am so sorry for scaring you. My name is Jiro and I’m Sato’s younger brother.”

  “Half-brother. We have the same father,” Sato corrected.

  Jiro? Mimi wondered why the name sounded so familiar. She furrowed her brows and tried to recall.

  Sato crossed his arms and sat at the edge of her bed, facing his half-brother. “Anyway, what are you doing here? Aren’t you busy with your song promotions?” Sato asked, glaring at Jiro.

  “Our schedule is packed to the max, we just finished rehearsals at Yoyogi Stadium.”

  “Jiro’s a member of some boy band called Fire Boys,” Sato explained, turning to Mimi. Her eyes widened upon hearing this piece of news. Fire Boys? Isn’t that Yuki’s band?

  “Is she your girlfriend?” asked Jiro, sitting down next to her.

  “Oh please, since when does your half-brother have bad taste? Even you are prettier than her,” snorted Sato in disgust. Mimi was too caught up in her thoughts to answer back.

  “But she’s pretty. So who is she?”

  “Just a stray cat I ran over.”

  “What?” shouted Mimi and Jiro in unison.

  “What is your name?” Jiro asked, looking at her unblinkingly with his huge brown eyes.

  “My name is Mimi, nice to meet you. I’m sorry for calling you a pervert...” She thought, at least Sato was right about one thing – Jiro was prettier than most of the girls she knew.

  “Don’t worry about it. It was just one big misunderstanding. Mimi, do you know who the Fire Boys are?” he asked, earnestly.

  “Not until I came to Tokyo,” Mimi answered, truthfully. Jiro jumped up so suddenly that he scared her. He held his hands up to his cheeks and started to freak out. “Oh no! Big brother, we are in big trouble! She doesn’t know who the Fire Boys are! Our Asia Tour is going to be a failure! No one is going to buy our tickets!”

  “Calm down! Mimi is just more into rock music.”

  “Really? Mimi, where are you from?”

  “Singapore.”

  “No kidding! Yuki, one of my members just came back from there. What a small world!”

  You have no idea, thought Mimi to herself.

  Sato cleared his throat and raised his voice slightly, “Jiro, you still haven’t told me what you’re doing here.”

  “I made something for you. Wait here, I’ll get it!” Jiro came back with a black knitted sweater. He placed it on his brother’s lap.

  “Wow, you made that?” said Mimi, rather impressed. Jiro beamed at her proudly and nodded.

  “He can be a little dumb at times, but he is gifted in knitting, and since he only picked it up less than a month ago,” said Sato, holding up the sweater, looking bemused.

  “Anyway, since I’ll be leaving for the Asia tour soon, can I stay over tonight?” Jiro asked, looking at Sato with the sweetest smile he could master.

  “No,” was the curt reply. Jiro’s face immediately fell.

  “Why?”

  “This isn’t an animal shelter. One stray cat is more than enough. And besides, I have no time to listen to your incessant chatter. I’ll send you home now.”

  “Alright then, if you insist. I was just trying my luck anyway,” said Jiro, shrugging his shoulders. He turned to Mimi and bowed, “It was really nice meeting you. Please support the Fire Boys when you can and I hope we can see each other again.”

  “It was nice meeting you too. Have a safe trip.”

  Sato grabbed his car keys and ushered his brother out of the house, leaving Mimi alone. She laid down on her bed in exhaustion. “I can’t believe this!” she exclaimed, holding her hand to her forehead. What was she going to do now? Finding Yuki never seemed easier. But did she really want to see him? But wasn’t seeing him the reason why she came to Japan? “I’m such a coward,” she said with a sigh. Mimi stared at the ceiling, searching for some answers. But all she got was a blank.

  An hour later, her mobile phone started to ring. It was Sato. “Meet me downstairs,” he ordered.

  “Why?” she asked but he had already hung up. Grumbling to herself, she slowly made her way to the lobby with her crutches. She was getting quite familiar with them these days. When she reached the ground floor, a loud car horn sounded. Sato was sitting in a black BMW convertible with the top down. Mimi limped towards to the car and stared at it. “This was the car that ran me down!” she shouted, giving it a stern stare.

  “Hey, don’t blame Baby. You were the one standing in the middle of the road,” retorted Sato.

  Mimi snorted and got in the car. “Baby? This thing is called Baby?”

  “Why not? It’s more precious than most humans,” Sato said, looking at her suggestively.

  Mimi narrowed her eyes at him and wondered why he asked to meet him here anyway. “Did you send your brother home?”

  “Half-brother, and of course I did, I’m a responsible person. He lives near here,” he said, starting the engine. The engine started to purr.

  “I miss my own brother,” Mimi muttered.

  “What?” Sato said.

  “It’s nothing. Where are we going?”

  “I’m hungry.”

  “Oh, why didn’t you eat with your brother?” Mimi asked.

  “Are you kidding me? He doesn’t eat after 7 pm.”

  Mimi had never been in convertible before. She could feel the wind through her hair and she concluded that Tokyo looked much prettier at night. A soft rock ballad was playing through the speakers and Mimi thought that this whole scene would be so romantic if not for the present company.

  “Sato, can I trust you?” she asked, out of the blue.

  “You don’t really have a choice.”

  “I don’t know if you will believe me,” she said, leaning her head back on the seat. Mimi looked up at the night sky and felt like crying.

  “Tell me about it over dinner. We’re here already.” They arrived at Hotel Seiyo in Ginza. Sato bought her to Attore, a posh Italian restaurant with mauve wall panels and soft carpets. Mimi could tell by the way the head waiter treated Sato, that he was a regular here.

  “You should have told me we were coming here. I would have dressed better,” Mimi hissed to Sato. She was still dressed in her checkered shirt dress.

  “It doesn’t matter, because firstly they won’t turn a handicapped person away. And it doesn’t matter what you wear; it’s about how much cash you have in your wallet.”

  Mimi knew that it was hopeless trying to talk any sense to him. The waiter ushered the both of them to a private booth
and handed over the menu.

  “What’s good here?” Mimi asked Sato.

  “Everything is.”

  “Are you paying for this?”

  “Depends on how well behaved you are.”

  “I’ll have the walnut-smoked lamb chops please,” she ordered quickly. The waiter nodded and turned towards Sato.

  “I’ll have the Gnocchi and a bottle of champagne,” he replied passing the menu back to the waiter.

  The waiter soon returned with Sato’s champagne. He delicately poured the bubbly liquid into both their glasses, and took his leave.

  “So, what is it you wanted to talk about?” he asked, sipping the champagne.

  “I want to show you something,” she said, reaching for her cell phone. She searched through the gallery function and showed him the picture taken together with Yuki. Sato looked at the photo impassively. She wondered if he recognised Yuki but he just continued drinking his champagne.

  “Is he the guy that dumped you?” Sato asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Forget him.” Their food arrived at this moment. Mimi didn’t expect Sato to react this way. “But you were the one who said not to give so easily,” she hissed, after the waiter left.

  “That was before I knew the guy was Yuki. You’re just going to get hurt.” He finished the glass of champagne in one gulp.

  “It’s impossible, isn’t it?” Mimi said, turning her attention towards the lamb dish. The food was probably delicious, but Sato’s words just left her with a bitter aftertaste.

  “Nothing is more complicated than dating a pop idol,” he stated. Mimi glanced at Sato apprehensively, but he said nothing more. Mimi ate her dinner in silence while he resumed his champagne-guzzling marathon. Before she knew it, Sato was lying flat on the table, knocked out.

  Mimi poked him with her finger, “Sato? Are you okay?” He didn’t budge. She sighed and wondered what to do next. At this moment, the waiter came and told Mimi that he would help drive the both of them home.

  “Really? Does he do this often?” He nodded matter-of-factly and helped to lift Sato into his car, placing him in the back seat.

  “If you don’t mind, I think you should sit at the back with him, in case he needs anything,” suggested the waiter as he pressed a button on the dashboard. The roof of the convertible came on and covered the car. Mimi reluctantly complied and was sitting next to the producer. Sato slumped his body against hers with his head leaning on her shoulder. His breath smelt of champagne, which she hated to admit, smelt rather heavenly. The backseat of the convertible was pretty compact and Mimi felt squashed. Sato was sitting on her right hand and she had no choice but to place her hand around his body to avoid getting a bad case of pins and needles.

  With his face being that close to her, she couldn’t help but to observe him. He really had rather long eyelashes for a man and there was a faint scar on his left eyelid. Unconsciously, Mimi reached out and touched his scar. Actually, he’s quite handsome when he’s quiet, thought Mimi. Despite the fact that she shared the same house with him, she really didn’t know anything about him.

  Sato started to mumble in his drunken slumber, “I’m sorry, Hiroki.”

  *

  Yuki lingered outside the CEO’s office and hesitated knocking on the door. It has been ten years since he first met the CEO yet seeing him always filled Yuki with a sense of dread. He took a deep breath and knocked. “Come in,” sang a voice from the other side. Yuki entered to see the CEO at his desk, looking through a bunch of photos. “Mr Kon, you wanted to see me?”

  Kon was in his sixties but had a fit and buff body. He was wearing a black turtle neck and a white jacket, while his grey hair was slicked back. Mr. Kon used to be a famous enka (Japanese traditional music) singer in his twenties and thirties, strutting on stage in flashy kimonos and enticing audiences with his deep and mellow voice. He gave up the stage more than 20 years ago and founded Fame Factory. Kon was currently at the top of the list for the richest man in Japanese entertainment.

  Yuki sat opposite the CEO and noticed that Kon was looking through photographs of potential trainees. These photographs were usually sent in by the mothers, relatives or the boys themselves to Fame Factory. Kon looked rather irritated at the current task. “Look at this one,” he cried, pointing to one of the photographs, “He barely turned six. Do they think we are a daycare centre? But this one takes the cake,” he added, picking up another photograph. “No matter how her mom tried to disguise this candidate, it’s obvious that she’s a girl! Everyone knows that FF is an all-male academy.”

  Yuki tried to look interested in the photographs but he really couldn’t care less. The curly-haired boy just nodded in response.

  “Anyway, let’s get down to business,” Kon said, sweeping the pile of photographs to the side. He stared intently at Yuki. “Yuki, you have been in FF for about ten years. You have seen many bands come and go. I have been observing the Fire Boys, seeing how you guys are doing for the past three years, how far do you think the Fire Boys can go?”

  “We are going to be huge,” he replied simply.

  “Why?”

  “I just feel it.”

  “Good enough for me. I do believe in you guys too. Especially since Makoto’s popularity in the new drama is phenomenal. But Yuki, right now, no one in the group is indispensable. I understand your tryst with the model, I mean I was 22 before, but the problem is that you get too involved. Look at Makoto, why does he get away with all those scandals? It’s because he never lets them get too close. So I’m telling you this now, as your boss; Don’t fall in love until you are 30. Now go, I know you’ve got a television show to go to.”

  “I understand. Thank you, Mr. Kon,” Yuki said, getting up from his seat.

  “Yuki, I know you like your band a lot, so don’t mess things up.”

  *

  The next day Mimi was woken up by the loud humming of the vacuum cleaner. She rolled over on her bed and came face to face with Yamada. “Hello Mimi! It’s already late afternoon,” Yamada chirped, smiling from ear to ear. She drew the curtains and bright sunlight filled Mimi’s room.

  “Hello Yamada, where’s Sato?” Mimi asked, rubbing her eyes.

  “He left for the office ages ago. Sorry to rush you but we need to leave for the studio in an hour’s time.”

  “It’s alright,” Mimi said, limping out of bed. She eyed the bathtub suspiciously as she remembered last night’s events. She wondered how Yamada would react knowing that Jiro was in this bathroom yesterday. Maybe she would look for a strand of dyed brown hair or something. Mimi shuddered at the thought and started brushing her teeth.

  Sato’s last words came back to her, “Nothing is more complicated than dating a pop idol”. He’s right, she thought, as she faced her own reflection. I should forget about Yuki. Completely. “You can do it!” she told herself, punching her fist in the air.

  When they both arrived at the broadcast building, Mimi still had no idea what Music Stage was about. Yamada couldn’t contain her excitement when they entered the television studio. “Mimi, look at all the cameras! Will we be on television? My friends would be so jealous! The stage is so gorgeous!”

  The circular, upraised stage was located in the middle of the studio with the words “Music Stage” hung on top and lit up with pink neon lights. “The stage props will change according to the guests,” explained Yamada, pointing to the front. “Two hosts will have a short talk on the stage before the artistes perform. As the studio audience, we can clap as loudly as possible, but no screaming is allowed. Music Stage is a weekly pop show that invites the top ten artistes on the Oricon Chart to perform. The Oricon Chart represents the official number of singles and albums sold in Japan.”

  The production assistant came up on stage and gave the audience a few instructions. “We are going live in an hour’s time. If you need to go to the restroom, please do so now. Please note that the audience is not allowed to move around once filming starts. Please turn your mobile p
hones off or to silent mode.”