Pop Rock Love

by Raine Koh

  “Sato... Thank you so much, really...”

  “No need to thank me. I would never sign anyone if I didn’t think they had potential. Go through the contract today, I’ll assign you a manager tomorrow.”

  Mimi walked out of Niji Building and looked up at the clear blue sky. Taking a deep breath of fresh air she stretched out her hands and declared, “What a beautiful day! I should go shopping!” Mimi couldn’t believe that she hasn’t even gone shopping once in Tokyo. But since her leg is better, and she didn’t need those troublesome crutches anymore, this was the best time to shop, Mimi thought as she hailed a cab.

  “Take me to Laforet, Harajuku,” she told the taxi driver. The taxi driver headed towards the youth fashion district, Harajuku, a place famous for cosplayers and lolitas. Mimi knew that some of the quirkier mid-range brands were housed there too. From the taxi window, she saw Takeshita Street, a place renowned for street fashion and crepes. Mimi suddenly felt hungry.

  “I’m sorry Sir, but can you drop me off here?” she asked. Despite it being a Monday, the place was packed with high schoolers and stray tourists. Mimi slowly walked along the street, amazed at the colourful little shops that sold everything from cute lingerie, cosplay items, to pop idol photos and merchandise. There were many posters of the Fire Boys plastered outside the idol shops. Mimi stopped and stared at one huge photograph of Yuki. He had a big smile on his face, which seemed to reach all the way to his eyes. He looked exactly like how she remembered him. Her hand reached out to touch his face but she stopped herself midway. “I must be going mad,” she muttered to herself. But she continued looking wistfully at his face and wondered if she would ever see his smile ever again. Mimi decided to continue her pursuit of a dessert crepe store and pried herself away from the photograph. She didn’t notice a small step in front of her and ended up falling onto her knees.

  “Ouch!” she cried. Her knees were badly scrapped and it was difficult for her to get up to her feet.

  “Are you okay?” asked a male voice as he knelt down beside her. He was wearing a cap and he looked at her wound.

  “I think so,” she said and Mimi looked at him. Their eyes met and Mimi felt the world around them come to a standstill. It was him. Yuki was beside her, more beautiful in person. He looked as surprised as she was.

  “Is that Yuki? Isn’t he from the Fire Boys? Quick, take a picture...” Hushed whisperings were heard around them. Some schoolgirls had even started to whip out their camera phones, trying to snap a photo of him, and of Mimi as well. She looked on at Yuki, alarmed. He swooped down to carry her up in his arms and leaving everything else behind, started sprinting down the street. Mimi was so shocked that she just clung on to him for dear life. She looked over his shoulder and saw a horde of school girls and some office ladies – who had taken off their high heels – join in the chase. And goodness, they were fast. Were they going to get caught like this? But Yuki was pretty fast too, despite the extra weight (herself) he had to bear. He ran across the street and sprinted towards Yoyogi Stadium. He easily got pass security with Mimi in his arms, while the security guards stopped the pursuing stampede from entering the stadium.

  “Oh crap, it may actually be more dangerous for you inside here than outside,” Yuki panted, his hair drenched with sweat.

  “Yuki, can you put me down?” Mimi asked, timidly.

  “Oh sorry,” Yuki said, gently releasing her. He squatted down and looked at her knees. “It’s quite a bad scrap there. I’ll help you get some ointment. But first, let me see, where is the safest place for you?” He stood up and looked around. It had to be a place where the managers and men in suits won’t find her.

  “Yuki, don’t worry about me. I will be f...” Mimi started. But before she could finish her sentence, Yuki had swept her up in his arms again. She yelped in surprise. He is rather strong for his size, she thought. The pop star kicked open the door of the female toilet and walked in with her. The place was understandably empty, and Yuki gently placed her down a second time. “Thanks...” she muttered. He went inside one of the cubicles and put the toilet seat down. “I’ll go and find some ointment for your injuries. Please take a seat here first?”

  “Yuki, you don’t have to, my knees are fine...” Mimi protested, adding some hand gestures for effect. Her words seemed to have fallen on deaf ears. He simply placed his hands on her shoulders and added, “I’ll be right back.” Yuki then zipped out of the ladies, leaving Mimi alone in the toilet. There didn’t seem to be a better option, so she stayed put on the toilet seat.

  But then, what were the chances of meeting him like this, Mimi thought, burying her face in her hands. “I guess this is going to be our last goodbye, in a toilet,” she mumbled to herself, “How romantic.” She heard the toilet door swing open and Yuki reappeared in front of her, clutching some cotton pads and a bottle of purple liquid.

  “This may sting a bit,” he said, squatting down next to her. He went on to soak one of the cotton pads with the purple liquid. Mimi bit her lower lip and nodded in reply. Yuki, as gently as he could, placed the soaked cotton pad on her wound. She winced in pain but never made a sound. He repeated the whole procedure a few times, until both wounds from both her knees were covered with purple blotches. “Thanks Yuki,” she said, managing a small smile at him. He looked up at her and smiled too. “Come on,” he said, standing to his feet, “I’ll help you up.” Yuki carefully held on to her arm, helping her to stand too. They were both standing face to face in a tiny cubicle when they heard the door of the restroom swing open. Yuki quickly slammed the door of the cubicle shut, holding on to Mimi tightly. He listened intently for any clue as to who the new visitor was. All Mimi was concerned with was the fact that her face was close enough to his chest to hear his heartbeat. She could feel her own heart beating wildly too.

  The new visitor to the Ladies started to sing a tune. “Love Love Night, dum dum dum...”

  Wait a minute, Mimi recognised that voice. Yuki released his grasp on her and opened the cubicle door. Both of them peeked at the new addition. “Oh my, Yuki! You scared me!” exclaimed Jiro, who was holding on to a ball of string and a pair of knitting needles. “What are you doing in the Ladies and...YOU!” He noticed Mimi in the cubicle as well.

  “Mimi this is Jiro, Jiro, this is Mimi,” said Yuki, stepping out of the toilet cubicle. Mimi stepped out as well. She nodded at Jiro and vice-versa, even though they were meeting for the second time, but Yuki didn’t have to know that yet. “Mimi hurt her knees, so I was tending to them,” Yuki explained.

  “Oh my, it looks serious though.”

  “Erm, Jiro, if you don’t mind, could you guard the door for us outside? I need to talk to Mimi for a bit.”

  Jiro widened his eyes in surprise. “Sure Yuki, I’ll be outside if you need me,” he replied, tip-toeing his way out. Mimi didn’t really want to be left alone with Yuki, because she knew the inevitable good-bye would happen. I must not cry, I must not cry, she repeatedly told herself in her head. Yuki turned to face her, “Mimi... I’m sorry for leaving you like that in Singapore.”

  She looked into his big brown eyes and she could feel her resolve dissolving. But she knew if she shed tears now, it’ll be harder for Yuki to leave. “Yuki, you don’t have to apologise. You know, watching you perform that day, I understand how important you are to some people, especially to your fans. Just your very presence is enough to make people happy and believe in themselves. You represent something very important to them and you can only work hard right now and give your best right now.”

  “But I still owe you an explanation. Actually the real reason why I was in Singapore... Well, it was sort of a punishment for me. I started going out with a model and the agency found out about our relationship, so I was, you can say, banished from Tokyo and future Fire Boys activities till the CEO said otherwise. So I was sent to Singapore because I had an uncle who lived there.”

  “So you broke up with the model because of the agency’s opposition?”

&n
bsp; “Not exactly. She was cheating on me and so I broke it off with her. She got angry and sent photographs of us to the CEO and threatened to expose our previous relationship to the media.”

  “I see.” Mimi didn’t really know what to say. Things seemed so complicated.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you,” he said. “Mimi...” he started but his mobile phone rang at this moment. He picked it up and Mimi could hear his manager screaming at him from the other end.

  “Yuki, Kon is looking for you! Hurry up and get to the stage now! And help me find Jiro too, he never brings his mobile phone with him!” hollered Jun.

  “Let this be goodbye then. It’s really for the best,” she said quickly, looking at the tiled toilet floor.

  “Goodbye,” he whispered. Mimi was so sick of crying but she could feel her tears threatening to fall again. “Goodbye Yuki.” And he walked out of the door.

  Mimi crumpled to the tiled floor and tears started streaming down her cheeks. “This is for the best. It really is,” she whispered to herself, trying to calm herself down. She heard the toilet door open a crack. “Is someone there?” she asked, frantically wiping her tears away using the back of her hands. No one answered her. Instead a stuffed crocheted black cat appeared from behind the door. Mimi sniffed and rubbed her nose but managed a small smile. “Are you supposed to be mine?” she asked. The black cat nodded. “Can you tell your maker that I’m fine and that he doesn’t need to hide behind the door?” she said. The stuffed cat nodded again. Jiro opened the door and entered the restroom, with the stuffed cat in his arms. He passed it to Mimi. “I made him for you. It’s to apologise for scaring you that night.”

  “Thanks... I appreciate it. He’s really cute,” she said, hugging onto the toy.

  Jiro sat next to her on the floor. “You know pop stars don’t sell music. We sell dreams to people.”

  “Are dreams worth more than love?” Mimi asked.

  “If the love is true, it will wait until the dream becomes a reality. True love also gives strength to a dream.”

  “I think you are smarter than you look,” she said, gazing at the shaggy brown-haired boy.

  “And I think you are stronger than you look. Anyway I told my brother to come and get you.”

  “Sato? Oh please, he is so busy and so in love with himself, he won’t come. I’ll take a cab.”

  At the moment, the toilet door burst open and Sato appeared right in front of her eyes. “Why do you keep getting injured? Are you some sort of masochist?” he hollered at Mimi.

  “Do you think I got hurt on purpose?” she shouted back. Jiro helped her to her feet. “Thanks Jiro, for the cat. Good luck for your concert tours too.”

  “Don’t mention it!” he replied cheerfully. “Bye, brother! I’ll leave her with you then.”

  Sato and Mimi sat in the BMW convertible – with its top closed – in silence as it cruised the Tokyo streets. The sun was setting and the street lamps were turned on. Mimi just leaned against the car door, staring at the view forlornly. Sato was holding on to the steering wheel with one hand and resting his head with his other hand.

  “Sato...” she said, out of the blue.

  “Hmm?” he grunted, keeping his eyes on the road.

  “I will be your best artiste.”

  Sato sniggered in reply. “You don’t believe me?” Mimi asked.

  “I’ll believe it when you stop crying and start composing.”

  How can anyone be so insensitive, she thought.

  “Mimi...”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s okay to cry if you want to.”

  “Idiot.”

  Track #8

  For the next eight months, Mimi’s days consisted of long hours at Niji Building, working on her debut single and album. Sometimes, she even found herself sleeping on the floor of the studio after days of non-stop composing and rehearsals. Eight months had passed since she signed the contract with Niji Music. Besides working on composition and recording, she had also been given Japanese language tuition and vocal training. Mimi was also thankful that her ankle was finally healed. She was surrounding herself with so much music, that she didn’t have much time to think about anything else.

  Today, Mimi was in the band rehearsal studio, practicing her debut single “Maybe” on a pink electric guitar. Sato – who had since taken on the role as her main producer – entered the studio and passed her some music sheets and a CD.

  “This song will be the B-side for your debut single,” he said. Mimi stared at the title of the paper. The song was called “Farewell”.

  “Isn’t this the new song you have been working on for months?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously. It was that same sad melody she heard him play every night.

  “Why? Is it not good enough for you?” he challenged, raising his voice a notch.

  “I thought you were going to give it to Filth?”

  “I changed my mind.”

  “But... But... This song is the best song I’ve heard in a long time. I don’t think it should just be the B-side of my single!” Mimi exclaimed.

  Sato looked at her and tapped the disc lightly. “This song is very personal to me, maybe too personal. Putting it on the B-side of a single ensures that it won’t be blasted on the airwaves often. It’s better that way.”

  “Thank you, Sato... I’m honoured...” she stammered, more out of being rendered speechless and at a loss for words.

  “And as to why I am giving this song to an inexperienced and shady artiste like yourself, you figure it out,” he said in a huff and stormed out of the room.

  Two more weeks and Mimi would be having her first live in Tokyo, as an opening act for Filth. Although Sato was not technically her manager, he had been acting like one. Of late, he had been dictating Mimi’s every professional move. Maybe he’s scared that I’ll mess this up, she thought. Her “real” manager, Kenta, entered the studio. He was in his thirties, with dirty blonde short hair, small eyes and a thing for leather jackets. “Mimi, your first live is at O-Nest, a live house in Shibuya. Sato told me that you will perform this new song, ‘Farewell’ as well?” Kenta inquired.

  “Yes, he just told me.”

  “He said that a single keyboardist will accompany you for that song. We won’t need the band. His name is Kamaki and he’ll practise and record the single with you later this week.”

  “I wonder if we can make it on time,” Mimi said, furrowing her brows.

  “Don’t worry, we will. Have you been eating, you look like a ghost,” asked Kenta, looking at her sternly. Mimi let out a sheepish grin and shook her head. “I kinda forget to eat sometimes.”

  “Come on, let’s go to the café across the street. Some sun will do you good, you’re looking too pale these days.”

  Sitting underneath the autumn sun, at an alfresco café, Mimi started wolfing down some spaghetti carbonara. “See, I knew you were hungry,” said Kenta, folding his arms and looking at her in disdain. “After your debut, be careful not to eat like that in public.”

  Mimi held back a retort, not wanting to talk with her mouth full.

  “How many tickets do you want for the Filth live? I can get them for you.”

  “Probably one?” she replied, thinking about Shina.

  “One? Are you sure? It’s your music debut and you only want one? What about your friends in Singapore? Mom? Dad?” asked Kenta.

  “Mom and dad passed away a few years ago,” Mimi said, reaching out to gulp down a glass of water.

  “I’m sorry. How did they pass on?”

  “Car accident, about two years ago. I do have a younger brother, but he’s busy with his studies in Singapore. I don’t think he’ll be able to make it.”

  “Well, at least tell him about it.”

  “I will.”

  Kenta looked at her with a slight hint of pity. Actually, Mimi had been working so much on her music that she forgot to make any friends in Tokyo. Besides Shina, whom she knew before, everyone else she had
met were all related to her for a professional reason. Even her relationship with Sato was a little confusing these days. She wondered if he just saw her as an asset to Niji Records.

  Mimi sighed and at that moment, loud pop music was heard blaring from a container truck. She turned around to see five familiar faces on the container truck.

  “It’s Fire Boy’s latest single, ‘Violet Crush’. I don’t know how familiar you are with the Japanese music industry but if this song doesn’t budge from the top spot for a month, it may be the main competition stopping your song from hitting number one on the Oricon Charts.”

  Mimi looked at Kenta in surprise. “You really believe that I can make it to number one?”