Work Text:
There was I, poor down-on-his-luck paparazzo Ueda Tatsuya, sitting in a dilapidated chair with the most uncomfortable shoes known to man. I should've known it was trouble the moment I stepped into that damned set. No matter what Nakamaru had said about the upcoming stars and the brand new piece of ass in town, the atmosphere was so thick you'd have needed an axe to cut it. I wondered who had green lighted that movie, because everybody knew that most of the overblown egos of the industry were involved, not to mention some of the most scandal-prone as well.
Technicians were already losing patience and it wasn't even the second day. Yokoyama, whose company - Kanjani 8 FX - was in charge of the special effects, had told me that his co-workers were all on the verge on breakdown. For example, Nishikido, also known as 'That Sound Guy That Ruined The Shot' had gone from mildly annoying to full blown saboteur.
I could see and sense and smell everybody's sweat slowly dropping from tired foreheads. I didn't pity them that much, though. They were certainly getting better paid than me. Their studio was a big scary monster but the magazine's financial state was so disastrous that my latest scoop, 'Racoon steals kids' ice-cream', got front page.
So Nakamaru, in a desperate bid, had sent me to the set. I was undercover as a catering girl and I would rather not talk about how I had to hide my camera. Some things are better left unsaid.
I had been sitting in a corner for ages, waiting for something to happen. You'd have thought that the sheer overabundance of ego in that place would have caused several fist fights already, but no such luck. Maybe because it was the first day of filming, nobody dared to make a fuss.
I was uneasy and nervous, because Akanishi Jin, action hero and supermodel banger, had been eyeing me all day long with not very innocent intent. I couldn't rely on my being a man to be a problem so I tried to avoid him as much as I could. Yamashita Tomohisa, the other half of Japan's dumbest comedy duo (and that was quite a feat), was on set as well and that only made the situation more dangerous.
I glanced at my watch again and saw that I had been stuck in the stupidest place in Earth for twelve hours. Nakamaru could very well be the editor and my boss, but I was too hot to care.
Besides, Yamashita was elbowing Akanishi and pointing at me. I knew the rumours surrounding them to be true and I wasn't taking any chances. Who knew a bunch of comedians named 'Pink and Redder' could get laid so much.
I hid in the first broom closet I saw and changed as quickly as possible. Little I knew that having to carry a leather jacket around in 37º weather was the least of my problems. Oh, ignorance was bliss.
I tried to move as innocently as I could -after all, sets are very busy places-. I was doing a fairly good job when a glowering man fighting his own scarf stepped out of a dressing room and stood in the middle of the hallway.
I recognized him immediately. It was Matsumoto Jun, former rising star turned award-winning scriptwriter. I'd always thought him being behind the scenes was a waste. He had always been a gift to tabloid writers everywhere, but since nobody reads the scriptwriter name, the crazy rumours always stayed in the industry. I've had only seen two of his infamous tantrums, but one had ended with the police saying it was the greatest party they've ever crashed and the second one had included an Indian elephant flown in just for the occasion. Maybe this shoot had potential after all.
'I'm done, Ninomiya! I'm not accepting any more of your stupid changes. And Toda is not filming a stupid nude scene just to bring pubescent kids to my movie.'
'Then we'll have an audience full of grannies!'
When he was joined by Ninomiya Kazunari, the executive producer that had managed to create full season anime series on a budget of 500 yens and Diet Coke, I knew this was my breakthrough story. He was shorter than I imagined.
'At least they have better taste than you, you … you philistine!'
It was going to get ugly so I jumped and ran in the opposite direction, thinking I was going to be safe. Instead, my life twirled and twirled off the road. A door suddenly opened and before I knew it, I was in the middle of those cute meeting scenes from the movies. But instead of catching an idol or Audrey Hepburn in my arms, I got a screaming diva that instantly started to hit me with a script.
Trying not to be even more noticeable, I pushed the banshee into the room and closed the door.
It was a weird dressing room. I could tell there were several mirrors, but they were all covered up. An Eiffel Tower made of Pepsi Max bottles was in the middle of the room and several dozens of lilies littered the room. A poster of some Italian neorealism movie decorated the wall.
It wasn't a weird room. It was a star's dressing room and if the lilies and Sophia Loren were any indication, I knew exactly whose.
He cornered me against the door, but my reflexes were good so I avoided most of his hits.
'What the fuck?! Are you crazy? Stop hitting me with that damn script!'
He froze before throwing it at ne and muttered:
'You're the one who tried to kidnap me.'
'Kidnap you? You've been watching too much movies.'
'Then why are you here? Why did you lock us in this room, uh?'
'I'm just a fan.'
I had just realized he was Kamenashi Kazuya, Japan's most popular leading man. Among teenage girls and middle-aged women at least. His
movies were a mixture of diabetic cheesiness, forced romantic plots, cinematic conservatism and greedy capitalism.
He sure looked different without make-up. Like he was a real person and not an imaginary construct.
He didn't answer and instead squinted his eyes.
'You're a paparazzi, I know it.'
He wasn't as stupid as I thought.
'I'm a fan, I swear. Loved you in 'The Secrets that She Keeps'. Your performance in the death scene was really moving. Gave me
a whole new perspective on cancer.'
He was flattered. Actors are so easy to figure out. I learnt that in film school. Then I realized directors and scriptwriters and
producers were more complex.
'Thank you; I did a lot of research.'
His naïve delusion made him a little charming, but the scene had been painful and I hold only contempt for cinema criminals.
'Must have been fun. Not the cancer, I mean. But creating a character, building the little details, picking accurate gestures. Must be
really hard.'
He grinned like a satisfied cat. I kept the praise coming.
'You can really provoke strong emotions with your talent. I'm sure this will be your breakthrough movie.'
If they managed to end it. I wasn't so sure he'd be able to pull off the role of the confused, spiritually empty young man that all
Matsumoto Jun's movies demanded, but whether it bombed or was a blockbuster, the movie was news.
'Oh, it will. I will make sure of that.'
His voice sounded a little bit scary. If the movie had a Signature Ninomiya Psycho, he was nailing it.
'Oh, how?'
'By keeping Akanishi and Yamashita in line, of course. You can tell that to your journalist friends, you paparazzi scum.'
I waved my hand around.
'You got it all wrong. I'm just with the Cinematography department.'
'I see your camera, asshole.'
Damn it.
'This? Just an old thing, nothing important. Photography is a hobby of mine.'
He crossed his arms and stared at me.
'Let me warn you: there shall be no scandals in this set, so you better go now or I'll go you.'
Despite the fact that I could have easily knocked down several legions of guys his size, something told me this one could stand his
ground so I bowed and went out.
I smoked a little outside and then went to the magazine's headquarters. Nakamaru owed me a damn apology.
Of course, all he had to say was Good work. Now, why didn't you take a picture of his room? I rolled my eyes and prepared for
another day of hard, hard work.
The studio was as crazy and as ridiculous as the day before. A guy holding a microphone was flirting with some unremarkable actress, the kind of actress that's always on the verge of getting her big break, and another technician looked at them with a look of pure jealousy.
The director's chair was empty and I heard several people talking about the three tantrums Kamenashi had thrown that day. Matsumoto had already got his count up to twelve.
The guy that approved the financing must have been crazy. As well as all those people worked separately, a hit with both the critics
and the masses is always a fluke. Nobody knows the magic ingredients and more often than not, snobs dismiss popular stuff on principle. The movie could only lose money and then probably become a cult hit. I thought of writing an article about that, but I was a paparazzi,
not a serious journalist.
So instead I decided to go undercover - as a guy, for once. It wasn't working. I had been called 'gal' seven times so far and it would
only get worse. It always gets worse.
I stood in the middle of the hallway with my most determined debonair attitude but of course, a janitor can only look tired, dejected
and ready to jump out of a window. I fiddled with the broom, avoided eye contact and tried to ignore the big flashy sign that said
Kamenashi Kazuya.
I had only been there by chance for five minutes when he showed up with a stupid smile in his lips and a demure look in his eyes. I
cringed and focused on my brand new shoes, now covered in dirt.
'You're the world's most stylish janitor, that's for sure.'
I grunted.
He giggled.
I found it cute.
'Oh, dear, you can't convince me of your gruff manliness no matter how much you grunt.'
He started slowly caressing my … broom. I didn't dare to look up.
'I'm not the one with purple nails.'
'I play a vampirate rocker. It's character.'
I looked up and saw him. His make-up could've been in a Fauvist painting exposition and he apparently had a rainbow squid on his head
instead of hair. I stifled a laugh.
'You play a what? Wasn't this an art house film? A serious, thoughtful film?'
He twitched.
'Ninomiya-san decided to spice it up a little.'
'And Matsumoto just said nothing?'
'Nah, he added half an hour of silence to the script.'
He was pleased with that development. I remembered that some people thought Kamenashi was vying for seriousness as an actor. It was a
doomed attempt. Once you start in stuff like 'The Veterinarian that Found Love', you can't take it back.
'He thinks Ninomiya is letting that one pass?'
'No. He's just an alien who wants to take over the Earth and this set is his first step.'
I gave the matter more thought than was warranted (or maybe not) and then decided it was not unsound. Or maybe I was distracted by
Kame's scrawny legs.
'Our magazine has ethics; we won't print that. Not without proof.'
'You sure cared about proof when you printed that I had an affair with a seal.'
'That was a typo. We meant a SEAL.'
'Oh, really? And what about that time you ran a manipulated photo of me?'
We didn't have the money to pay for manipulation, so I was offended.
'We don't do that.'
'Really? Then when did you get a picture of me with no make-up?'
Oh, now I remembered. He had looked like the lovechild of a turtle and a bat. I couldn't repress a giggle.
'We both know that one wasn't manipulated at all.'
'It was!'
He frowned and I laughed again.
'No, you just look like that. It does explain why you cover up your mirrors until noon, though.'
'I look as pristine as water as soon as I get up. I'm genetically blessed.'
'Yeah, and your slim figure is made of cheeseburgers. I'm your nemesis, celebrity boy, and I know all your dirty secrets, so you better
not annoy me.'
He cocked his head and smiled.
'I have no dirty secrets. I'm shameless, what can you say?'
'Too bad. Dirty secrets are fun, don't you think?'
'Then you could help me make some?'
I shrugged. He was hot, I had no standards and it was a slow day.
'There's a broom closet over there, but Your Majesty is probably too dignified for that.'
He snorted.
'Call me when you can outmatch Akanishi, paper boy.'
I laughed and went back to work. Sadly, except for the facts that Ninomiya was annoyed they weren't able to book Ken Miyake, a retiring
stuntman, Kamenashi spent lunch practicing his lines and Matsumoto liked his tea with three spoons of sugar, I wasn't able to get
anything.
Third day of undercover and no interesting news at all. Nakamaru was about to admit defeat but wanted to give it one more try. He thought that maybe I could find a tax fraud scandal or a murder plot could land at my feet. I was, to say the least, incredulous.
I sighed, left the magazine's headquarters and dragged my feet to my car. I had already rented the costume for that day, so what the hell, I could go there one more time.
I must say I was the hottest make-up artist in the whole building, modesty be damned. My legs were positively delicious and my strut
stomped on men's ... hearts.
I had failed to consider, however, that Akanishi was still on set. As I tried to make Yamashita's eyes a little more alive - and failed
miserably- Japan's Official Horndog, was approaching like a missile. He had a target and I was it.
As I saw him get closer and closer in the mirror, my hands grew unsteady. I ended up turning Yamashita into a panda. But since he was playing a former wrestler turned vigilante, the director complimented me.
Nervous as I was, I was not ready to escape. I had a mission as well - I had to save a struggling tabloid without getting sued for
libel!
Then Destiny, for once, gave me a good hand. Akanishi tripped on some wire and fell down face first. The crash sounded like he had
broken all the bones on his body. I smirked and looked over my shoulder with a flirty smile only to be amazed by the sight. He hadn't
only tripped: he was sitting on the floor and looking at a spotlight that had apparently missed him by inches.
Yamashita sprung from his seat and ran over to his friend.
'Jin-man! Are you okay?'
'Pink-dude! I almost died!'
'I know!'
'Really!'
'For real!'
'Strange!'
'Dude!'
'Dude!'
I slickly hid behind a sleeping technician and started to take some pictures. I also tried to block their inane dialogue but it kept
drilling my ears. I glanced over to Ninomiya and saw such frustration that I almost pitied him. Given what I knew about his insane
tactics, including but not limited to shady yakuza dealings, demonic pacts and idol mongering , 'almost' was the operative word.
Matsumoto was leaving in a huff and threatening to never come back again. This was the exact same way in which had quit his acting career. Stress always got to him and any little setback became a catastrophe.
'OK! That's it! Shut up, both of you!'
Kamenashi had appeared and was intent on actually working on the film. I laughed at his delusion.
'But Kame-boy! I almost died today. I'm shaking, see?'
He lifted a non-trembling hand and then laughed.
Kame wasn't amused.
'Look, you may not care about your career, but I do.'
'You care about my career? That's so nice of you.'
'I care about mine, Akanishi. I want it to reach the next level. Your hijinks are not going to set me back.'
'They weren't mine!'
'You're not taking this as seriously as you should! You show up late, flirt all the time and don't even know your lines.'
'You're always the same, Kamenashi. This movie sucks anyways, why should I worry?'
It was the truth and truth stings like a bitch. Kamenashi was livid and I felt sorry his bubble had burst. After all, dreaming of bigger things is admirable, although stupid and naïve. I was starting to think that Kamenashi might have not yet been tarnished by what we call 'reality'. Maybe his earnest attitude was real. Maybe he actually liked his own movies and that's why he was so set on this one.
You could have heard a squirrel's steps in the following silence. A ballerina squirrel, at that.
Kame waited until we all felt trapped in a bubblegum of awkwardness and then, as he threw his hands in the air, uttered the immortal
words that any producer dreads:
'I quit.'
In the ensuing chaos, I slipped away. I lit a cigarette and slowly made my way back towards my car.
'Damn it! Stupid car!'
Nearby, Kamenashi was fighting an uphill battle against his car's door. If I had to compare his to mine, my Paparazzimobile was a
barnyard cat – ugly, old and temperamental – and his was an Abyssinian fed with truffles.
'Wow, star boy. Are you sure it's your car?'
He took a minute to answer and I inwardly laughed.
'Yes. Now fuck off.'
When a person is angry, they blabber. And blurted things fed me, so I bore his annoyance like a Knight Templar.
'It was a hard day, wasn't it?'
Butter up an actor and he'll deliver. The wisdom of the ages wrapped in the cynicism of today.
'Absolutely! Akanishi Jin has no decorum at all. He's such an unpleasant man.'
This guy had no sense of camaraderie. I now understood why he spent the breaks sleeping or reading self-help books.
'That's why you slept with him.'
A shot in the dark. A fairly easy one to make and one that'd ruffle his feathers. Annoying the guy was the best fun I had had in ages.
He waved his hand as if it was some harsh rebuttal.
'No, I slept with him because I was temporarily insane.'
'So it wasn't because of the rumours regarding his ... acting ability?'
'Those reports are severely exaggerated. He does know a few acting tricks, though.'
Spicy and bitchy, exactly how I like my news. And my coffee.
'Can I print that?'
'No, it's all strictly off the record. I might be trampled by his fans if I dare confess the truth.'
Who cares about truth anyway? This industry is all good lighting and excellent make-up, after all.
'And without attribution? Can I print it like that?'
He shook his head 'no'.
'Fans have friends in high places. They'll find out and then kill me. I don't want to get killed.'
'Then why did you sign up for this movie?'
'Because I'm crazy, of course.'
'So are you really quitting?'
He frowned.
'Ninomiya-san is very persuasive.'
Persuasive. As I didn't know about what had happened to poor young Chinen Yuuri.
'Who did he threaten?'
'My grandmother. I can't even believe he knows where she lives. She's from the country and she …'
'Star boy, he knows everything.'
I had learnt that the hard way and without even knowing the guy.
'So he told me he can't have me quitting, especially after he didn't get Miyake. I'm glad he didn't, though.'
I wasn't. Miyake had been involved in a very public confrontation regarding the quality of one of Yamashita's action movies that
everyone knew was in fact about a girl. It's always about a girl. The drama could have been delicious and palpable, but someone had
been sensible. I hated sensibility.
'Oh, what happened with that? Did they hire somebody else?'
'He called an old friend of his, but his plan to impress some high level suit is failing.'
'Who's that high level suit?'
'Nagano something. He came down to the set today.'
Wow. If it was that Nagano, it was news the magazine could use. The job wasn't going so badly after all.
'Oh, really? Nagano Hiroshi? Why did he come? Are you behind schedule?'
He punched his car.
'Have you seen our director?'
'Actually, no, I haven't.'
'Doesn't that answer your question?'
Oh.
'Oh.'
Kamenashi took my astonishment as encouragement and ran off with it. He kept a lot of bitterness hidden. Well, he just kept a lot of bitterness.
'He's Ninomiya's boyfriend, if you ask me. Come on, he failed to show up in the first day because he was out fishing! And Ninomiya just
laughed. I don't know what's so great about the guy, really.'
I was getting sick of his rants. In fact, all he did was rant. It was impossible to have a normal conversation with him without it
turning into a bitchfest.
However, the fact that he wasn't the patient, understanding man he always played was refreshing.
'So, do you want the ride or not?'
His door opened and he got into his car.
Then he lowered the window.
'Maybe some other day, paper boy. See you and stop snooping around!'
I leaned over his window and smiled a winning smile.
'It's my job.'
'No, you just want to see me, so stop it or I'll tell Ninomiya.'
'Okay, okay. But don't feel bad when I don't show up.'
He rolled his eyes, closed the window and drove off. I stood there like a penguin in a Chinese restaurant and then went to my car, thinking up excuses for Nakamaru.
The next day, Nakamaru sent me to the set along our trusted janitor, Taguchi. That set was a rising storm and our magazine needed to
get the scoop or else we would go under. After all, there are only so many infidelity scandals you can milk and so many dating rumours
you can make up before you need actual, real dirt on people. And if half of the rumours about Johnny's Studio's barely legal tactics were true, we could mine enough information for a libel lawsuit that'd give us much needed publicity. Or at least an inordinate amount of shush money that we could put to good use. I was already imagining actual air-conditioning in the office. And maybe even offices, plural.
Taguchi was excited and thought that this was his breakthrough to the competitive world of investigative journalism. I like the smell of freshly baked hope - and even more, the mouldy smell of crushed dreams - so I let him be. I'm kind like that.
I was out of ideas for creative costumes, so we went for more conventional stalking instead. Taguchi got into using my old janitor
costume and, amusingly, didn't look like a janitor at all. The only reason I had accepted to bring him along was because he had a nasty
left hook.
I tried to get into the set, but the security guards were not that stupid. They didn't buy that I was the make-up artist's brother and
I didn't have another costume so only Taguchi got in. Sadly, all I could do was stay alone in a tiny, smelly car, chain-smoking and
trying hard to ignore the fact that my life was the leftovers of youth. I just wanted the chance to do something, even if it only was creating the most amazing headline in the history of journalism.
I had already fallen asleep when Taguchi starting knocking on the door. I let him in.
'You won't believe this!'
He was excited, but I had seen him excited over pastries he had never eaten before.
'I won't believe what?'
'Akanishi Jin was almost killed.'
Was Taguchi stupid or did he think I was?
Damn it. I wanted to be in a film noir, not in a buddy cop comedy.
'That was yesterday's news.'
He grabbed me by the shoulders.
'Again.'
'What?'
'His lunch was poisoned. Then his make up was poisoned as well. He was rushed to the ER, but apparently it was nothing serious.'
I turned on the car.
'Taguchi, let me buy you a beer.'
He was puzzled.
'But we haven't been paid and I bought you lunch today. Are you sure you can afford it?'
'Those are just details! This one is the big one, Taguchi. Let's celebrate!'
Next morning, a rabid dog somehow got into the set and almost bit Akanishi.
During lunchtime, a technician nobody had seen before hit him with a microphone.
Then, a Shinto priest tried to run him over with a '91 Toyota Corolla. That same night, a teenage girl tried to strangle him outside a
nightclub.
By the end of the week, Akanishi had been the victim of five poisoning attempts (two of them by an opera singer he had scorned), thirty four close calls involving household items, six stabbing incidents that luckily weren't major and twelve almost lethal car accidents.
Also, several loose wild animals had tried to maim, bite or just generally hurt him.
It was starting to be slightly suspicious.
When the next week started, I had already decided to uncover the mysterious and repeated attempts on Akanishi Jin's life. While he had
never done anything good for the world, he had never done anything particularly wrong either and the amount of bitterness the culprit
had was disturbing.
Besides, was there a better headline than 'Plucky journalist solves puzzling case!'?
This time, I skipped the costume and just got into the set by using the most useful stealth technique: walk like you own the place.
Taguchi followed me cowering in fear.
'It's dangerous! What if the killer decides to attack us?'
He was going to die first. Those are the dangers of being comic relief.
'Why would he do that?'
'We are the heroes and attacking heroes is what killers do.'
'We're not heroes; our intentions aren't exactly pure and clear.'
'They aren't?'
I cursed under my breath. He might have been freakishly strong, but I was in the boxing club in high school and didn't need him at all.
I could knock out a dragon and have enough time to run away before it recovered, so the janitor was not necessary.
I faced him and waved a finger at him.
'Look, we're here to look for clues regarding the Akanishi Affair. If you see anything strange, tell me and do not interfere. I repeat, do not interfere.'
'And what do I do if Akanishi is in danger?'
'Rising star is killed is a better headline than Idiotic Janitor Dies Saving Star, so let him save himself.'
'How can you say that?! Journalists are here to make the world a better place, to unveil hidden truths and keep an eye on politicians,
not to dig for shameful rumours or profit from scandal.'
I looked at him without quite understanding. Was the guy for real?
'Ok, then be a hero if you want. Just let me know before hand and I'll take some pictures.'
He bit his lip and then huffed, but didn't press the point.
'Let's separate. You go ask the other employees, I'll check with the actors.'
I knew that my aura of success would scare the not so lucky ones into silence, so it was better if I sent Taguchi. Well, maybe I just
didn't want my classmates from film school, now doing menial work, to find out I was as much of a loser as they were.
I decided to go talk with the actors and maybe talk a little bit with Ninomiya. He wasn't that scary.
Akanishi was hiding in his dressing room and Yamashita answered the door.
'Our lives are in danger, man. Sorry.'
'But I'm just…'
Akanishi strode across the room and opened the door. He pointed at me.
'Dude. I totally saw you with Kamenashi the other day in the parking lot. Are you his minion?'
The guy was in a paranoia high. It wasn't unexpected.
'Kamenashi has minions now?'
He nodded.
'He hates me! He must be behind this! Get away from me!'
Yamashita rolled his eyes – was that a dash of intelligence? – and closed the door.
The rest of the cast was equally suspicious of me and my cover and I got nothing.
Apparently, actors and make-up artists' siblings don't talk that much.
Taguchi wasn't any luckier.
'Sorry! They weren't talking.'
'I didn't see you around. Where were you?'
He shrugged.
'I got lost. You see, there's a hallway. It leads outside, to the parking lot. I was hungry, so I went to find something to eat. But
when I tried to come back, I couldn't find the set.'
I barely avoided strangling him.
'Look, there's only one person left. Let me take this one, ok?'
'Then I get a beer?'
Next time Nakamaru asked for money saving strategies, my only suggestion was going to be 'Fire the janitor'.
I made my way across the studio, until I was standing before a door with a huge, huge star on it. I snorted and opened it.
Kamenashi was sleeping in a make-shift bed, covered with his own jacket. The lilies were starting to wither and he had put up more
posters. Mifune. Eastwood. Hepburn – both of them. Even Bogart. At least, he had good taste and a lot of ambition.
I cleared my throat and waited until he realized he wasn't alone.
'What the fuck are you doing here, paper boy?'
I grabbed a chair and sat down.
'Asking uncomfortable questions. Are you trying to kill Akanishi?'
He rolled and turned his back on me.
'Go away. I need my beauty sleep.'
I ruffled my hair.
'Come on, just some questions.'
He sat up and faced me.
'No, I'm not trying to kill him. If I were, I wouldn't fail. Satisfied?'
He was my best hope and I was starting to feel sorry for the guy.
'No. I need your help.'
'What for?'
'I need you to ask some questions.'
He sighed.
'You're not a detective. You're an overworked photographer who ought to leave before I call security.'
I had only one more card left but it was a winning one.
'OK, but you do realize everybody believes you're behind this, don't you?'
His jacket slid off.
'What? Are they crazy?'
'You don't speak with any of your cast mates, do you?'
He suddenly picked it up and didn't look back at me.
'There's no need.'
He had the emotional maturity of a 12 year-old. Luckily for him, so did everybody else on set.
'They all believe you're some psycho. Or a woman scorned.'
'It was a one-night stand, no big deal. I can't believe they're that stupid.'
'If you want to clear your name, help me out!'
He stood up and started pacing around the room. He cared. As much as he played the cold-blooded diva, he was scared and hurt and he was such a bad actor he couldn't hide it.
'And then what? You run the story and I look like a fool?'
'No! You talk to your agent, the magazine then runs a story about the Meddling Star That Saved Akanishi Jin. Great publicity,
for both you and the movie. And your image will be better than before.'
'It's a bad idea to get involved with your kind.'
He had a point.
'You must be curious, at least.'
'Yes, I am but I'll wait for the police to solve this.'
It was a lost cause.
'Well, I'll leave you my number. Just in case.'
I scribbled my number in a napkin and gave it to him.
For a second, I believed he was going to throw it out, but he put it in his pocket with the faint hint of a smile.
'See you,' I said while locking the door.
'You're a pest.'
Sweetest guy ever.
I was sure he'd take the bait and when my cell phone rang around midnight that same day, I knew I had been right. I let it ring a few times, just to make him twitch.
'Hi, paper boy,' he said when I finally picked up.
I tried to sound cheerful and not hungover. Taguchi had the alcohol tolerance of an ox.
'Hi. So you've decided to cooperate?'
'No, I just saw something weird and I thought I'll help you out.'
'Out of the goodness of your heart?'
'Nah. Your magazine has some photos I'd rather see destroyed. I tell you what I know, you burn them.'
'That's not a fair trade.'
'Oh, I assure you it is. My information is very valuable.'
'And I only have your word on it. Sorry, not buying it.'
'What do I have to do to get you to destroy them?'
'Help me out. Let me take you to dinner. Your choice.'
'I'm not your snarky love interest in this movie.'
'Well, you're snarky and you're interested. Close enough.'
He ignored my comments and went on.
'So what do you want me to do, then?'
'Just ask questions. Keep an eye on the set. Talk with your inside connections.'
'I have no contacts.'
'Oh, really? Then how did you become a star? Luck? Talent?'
'OK, I do have some connections, but I doubt they know much.'
'Trying is a free action. So if you try, you lose nothing.'
'OK, OK. I'll see what I can do and then we'll meet.'
'So you accept my...?'
He cut me off. This guy was the most boring yet fun person I've ever met.
'Strictly business.'
'You're such a bore.'
'No, I'm smart, paper boy. See you.'
We met in a bar. It was packed and I had to make my way across the people, the smoke and the blaring music. He was sitting in the back, surrounded by some girls that looked dumb and drunk, a bunch of bodyguards and two hip, chic up-and-coming actors.
'Paper boy.'
'Kamenashi-san.'
'Let's discuss this in private,' he said while waving a hand.
His little entourage dissipated and I sat down next to him.
'So, did you get anything?'
Subtleness was useless.
'Maybe. Do you want something to drink?'
'No, thanks. What did you find out?'
'Not much, but there's something that really stood out,' he said before a melodramatic pause. 'All the people involved are or have been
on the studio's payroll.'
'You're fucking kidding me.'
'No, I'm not.'
'What does a studio need a Shinto priest for?'
He shrugged.
'He was a consultant for a biopic.'
'Oh, I see.'
I didn't see it at all, but I wasn't about to delve into the topic.
'So now go destroy the pictures.'
'Ha. You're funny.'
'I pulled some strings for you, so you better pay me back.'
'I owe you dinner, thank you, and goodbye.'
I stood up and tried to go to the exit, but his three burly bodyguards were blocking my way out.
They were just inches taller than me. I could take them out with my hands tied behind my back.
'Destroy. The. Photos,' he hissed.
The bodyguards got closer.
Well, with one hand tied to my back.
'I. Will. Not. Not until you give me something juicier or more definite.'
'It's great information and you know it. Keep your side of the deal, will you?'
'Or what?'
'Or not even the stupid janitor will be able to get you out of this.'
'Oh, really?'
Fifteen minutes later, I was kissing the sidewalk.
At the very least, I had a lead. Either an inside job - a pissed off executive, some scorned wife - or even worse, an elaborate set-up with the consent of everybody involved.
I went back home and sat down in my couch. I wasn't really sure of how to continue.
'Damn it.'
My only contact was Kamenashi. I had to call him again. I started talking before he could hang up.
'Hi, sorry, I'll destroy them if you do me one last favour.'
'Are you a masochist?'
'Maybe. Can you send me more detailed information? Like how and when and why were they employed?'
He didn't say anything for about a minute, as if talking on the phone was for free.
'You'll destroy the pictures?'
'Yeah, I will. Tomorrow.'
'I need a guarantee.'
'Your bodyguards just beat me to a pulp. If I break my promise, they are free to do it again.'
'OK, OK. I'll send the information. With one of my bodyguards. Tomorrow, to the magazine.'
When the bodyguard showed up the next day, Nakamaru wasn't amused, but he was smart enough to shut up. My face was encouragement enough.
A day and three litres of coffee later, I was sitting in the middle of my living room surrounded by the employment history of about
thirty people. I had only managed to discover one common thread - Okada Jun'ichi, a lawyer in charge of all their contracts. I hadn't
been able to find out anything about the guy. He didn't show up at parties nor nightclubs; no known enemies nor friend. Just the perfect lawyer.
I was lost and if all the mystery movies I had watched and all the detective novels I had read were right, this situation called for
only one solution - trespassing.
I called Taguchi and two hours later, we were in front of Johnny's Entertainment. Taguchi was bouncing around like some clown on speed.
'What happened to your face?' he asked.
'I fell.'
'It looks bad.'
He poked me. I winced.
'Look, we're searching ... Stop doing that.'
'Sorry.'
'So, as I was saying, we're looking for Okada's ... I told you to stop.'
'Sorry.'
'Okada's office. Once we're there, we need to look for clues. Are we clear on that?'
He was impatient. Maybe he wanted to go to the bathroom.
'Yeah, yeah. Shall we separate?'
Thankfully, he gave me the excuse to leave him behind before I had to invent one.
'It'll be better. We'll cover more ground.'
He smiled and climbed the fence. However small his brain might have been, he was agile and useful.
I sighed with relief when I found myself alone and in the middle of an empty building. There were a few security guards, but I have good reflexes and avoided them with success.
Okada Jun'ichi. The door was clear: I had reached my destination.
'Yay.'
I picked the lock and entered into a cramped, small office. I had hoped to find piles of paper, but the world wasn't feeling noir
enough and I had to turn on the computer. Thankfully, the guy had a great archiving system and it wasn't hard at all to find a suspicious folder named 'Operation Darling', full of memos by a guy named Sakamoto. I hastily copied them and then ran away.
I found Taguchi at the entrance, already sitting in the driver's seat and ready to give me a ride home. I didn't even ask what he had
accomplished.
When I woke up the next morning, I had 35 unread messages and they were all Nakamaru's. He was denying any association with me,
pre-emptively. I figured Taguchi had told him about our midnight romp.
I got up and had a shower. The whole thing kept getting sillier and sillier. I had gone through all the files, but they were apparently planning to throw Ken Miyake a retirement party. Which was a little bit ridiculous, considering he was just a few years older than me.
I had tried to see if there was some underlying code but I had failed. I wasn't surprised - I can't even solve a Sudoku puzzle - but it still bugged me. Akanishi Jin couldn't have that many enemies. He could be irresponsible sometimes and his movies were the kind of comedy you watch when you're stoned but he had a likeable quality about him. He was like a kitty. A drunken, sleepless kitty that had
kept its cuteness nevertheless.
So maybe the clues were wrong and Okada was not at all involved in the string of almost crimes, but that would have meant that Kamenashi was a lying liar. I don't like being scammed, but it was a very real possibility.
'Whatever.'
I gathered my courage and gave him a call. I still owed him dinner, after all.
We met a few hours later at some hot spot, a chic new restaurant that sold 'Grilled rounded grinded meat' instead of burgers and
charged you accordingly.
'You were wrong,' I said as soon as he sat down.
'I'm never wrong.'
'Look, it was just a coincidence. You're just feeding me bullshit to get me to destroy the photos.'
He stopped sipping from his margarita.
'So who's trying to kill Akanishi, then? Fairies?'
'He probably fucked one and kicked her out of bed.'
In that instant, Kamenashi got a call that changed our lives. Or at least that month.
'Fuck.'
'What happened? Akanishi ran out of luck?'
'No. I did. My apartment just blew up,' he said, still staring at the phone.
I gaped.
'You're kidding.'
'I'm not. Bodyguards are not known as jokesters and one of them just told me that my apartment was just blown up.'
Some people might have seen a tragedy, but I saw an opening.
'Well. Do you have a place to stay?'
He rolled his eyes.
'No, but I'm not going to the hole you call home.'
'Hey! It's clean. Sometimes.'
'Yeah, sure. If it as clean as your shirt is, I'm screwed.'
My shirt was stainless. He was bluffing.
'Oh, you're not getting screwed yet, but we can arrange something.'
'Don't you get tired of that?'
'Of what?'
'High school jokes.'
'You're giving me too much credit. My material is strictly grade school.'
'Really, there's no way in Hell I'm going to your place.'
Thirteen hours later, he was standing at my front door, with a tiny bag at his feet and unfriendliness in his face.
'Told you so,' I said.
'My bodyguards told me I should go somewhere unexpected. Your apartment was the best choice.'
I let him come in. He wasn't impressed.
'Where do I sleep?'
'There's the bed. There's the couch. People only sleep in my bed if they sleep with me first, I guess you bottom?'
He threw his bag at my couch.
'I'm not having sex with you, sir.'
'Aw. Then what do we do? Play Charades?'
Then he stole my pillow.
'No, we sleep.'
'You're the most boring person on Earth.'
'I prefer sane.'
'No, sane people like sex. You're just boring.'
He rolled his eyes and changed the subject.
'Is there a store close by? I need a smoke.'
'There's one around the corner. Want company?'
'You'll only get annoying if I refuse.'
He did his shopping fast and decidedly, but he had a lot of things to replace. I waited outside and was surprised to see no colleagues of mine. Kamenashi's stealth abilities were legendary, but this was flabbergasting. He had managed to get to my place with nobody following him? He was smarter than I gave him credit for.
While I was meditating on paparazzi and the immortality of crabs, Kamenashi got out of the store and started walking back to my place. He didn't wait for me.
'Hey, wait!'
We walked in silence. My street was dimly lit and Kamenashi got a little closer. It had to be fear, because it couldn't be subtle flirting. Kamenashi and I didn't do subtle.
'So … what's for dinner?'
It was a stupid question. It was my place. I knew take-out was for dinner.
He held a bag in front of my face.
'This.'
'Do we have to heat it? Because my microwave is dead.'
'That doesn't surprise me at all.'
Thinking back on it, seeing the speeding car was a miracle. Even if my conscious mind was engaged in flirting, my lizard brain tapped
into humanity's forgotten survival instincts. I jumped at him with the strength of all my stupidity and rashness. We landed on the
sidewalk, quickly got up and started running to my place, not bothering to look back. When we got there, I closed the door as if
Bigfoot was behind us with an axe.
We slowly regained our breath leaning against the door.
'You okay?'
'Why did you do that?'
I glanced aside.
'I didn't think.'
'That much is obvious.'
'You can't say thanks?'
He let himself slide down to the floor. I followed his example.
'Thanks.'
'That's better. So, can I top?'
'You take the couch. Idiot.'
I didn't take that one to heart. I could see him smiling in the mirror.
'Now, take off your clothes.'
'I told you…'
'I want to see if you're hurt, idiot.'
'I can check that myself.'
I always had a tendency to underestimate a person's intelligence.
He locked himself in the bathroom while I looked at myself in the mirror. Thankfully, we were just bruised but the fright had been startling.
This was getting serious and that only meant we were going in the right direction.
Around 2 AM, a noise startled me. Kamenashi was rummaging through my stuff.
'Bastard,' I muttered and pretended to sleep until I was sure his guard was down.
I jumped off the bed and grabbed him. He was an evil … an evil raccoon. That stole kids' ice-cream.
'Spill it. What the fuck were you looking for?'
'Nothing.'
'You're a bad actor.'
Understatement of the century.
'Okay, I wanted to see what you had found out.'
I let him go.
'This was the reason you came here, wasn't it? You're my main suspect now. You probably even blew up your own place. Or maybe it was
all a lie.'
Of course, the best course of action when you're alone with your main suspect is to let him know of your suspicion.
'You saw the news, so you know it really blew up.'
I grabbed my head in frustration.
'Didn't you get the message? We need to stay away from this.'
'They are targeting me now! I want to know who they are!'
'They're probably just cinema lovers upset with your success and lack of apparent talent.'
He pouted. The bastard pouted.
'That's not it. It's the studio. Maybe they have life insurance policies for us and need the cash.'
'Or maybe it's all a publicity stunt.'
'Oh, come on. My life is worth more than a publicity stunt.'
Stunt. Oh, damn.
'Wait. I think I know what's happening. I just need to think about it.'
'That makes me feel reassured.'
'Enough with the sarcasm.'
'Wow.'
'Can't you follow simple instructions?'
'My modelling days are over.'
'Look, all you have to do is wait until morning, ok? I'll show you then. I just want to sleep now. My brain is not working well. We're shaken and scared. Let's sleep.'
I was way more sensible than I had hoped. Emotional growth, as my mother always called it, was never one of my strong points. But I was the mature one in the situation, since Kamenashi was just a bunch of nerves.
'I'm not having sex with you.'
Did I come off as such a lecherous bastard?
'They were jokes. Don't take it seriously.'
Somehow, I doubted he was able to do that.
He might have been a jittery thespian, but Kamenashi sure could make coffee.
We sat down in front of my computer, I showed him the files and waited.
'I don't see it,' he said after ten minutes of awkward silence that I spent dozing off.
'Miyake's a stuntman! Get it?'
'No.'
'It's a stunt! They needed him to plan the incidents, but ... You know, I'll go talk to somebody I know. You just stay here and don't do anything crazy.'
He thought I was the crazy one. That much was clear.
'Okay ...'
'Call your bodyguards if you feel lonely, will you?'
He threw me a pillow before I left.
I met with my informant - Yokoyama, of K8 FX - in a shady bar in an even shadier part of town. The whole place smelled of urine, vomit and cheap vodka and so did most of its customers.
Yokoyama was standing in front a pinball machine totally captivated by it.
'Hey.'
'Hey.'
'I need you to repay that favour.'
He glared at me.
'For the ninth time, lending me a camera once does not mean I owe you all the help you need, asshole.'
'It's just a question.'
He went back to his pinball game.
'As long as it's the right kind of question ...'
That was all I needed.
'What do you know about Miyake Ken?'
He glared at me again.
'You can Google that.'
'Oh, but Google does not come with a winning smile.'
'Seriously, google it. The guy is famous.'
'Yes, I know all about his fame but I want inside info.'
He stopped playing and stared at me for a long time.
'Best stuntman ever. Taught Aiba Masaki everything it knows. Retiring later this year.'
'Oh, why is that?'
'He got bored. Plus he's broken every bone in his body. Even the ones in his ears.'
'Figures. But does he have the money?'
'Apparently. He has friends in high places.'
Jackpot!
'Or do the friends in high places have him?'
'I doubt it; he's a real righteous dude.'
So righteous he tries to kill people for fun and profit.
'Are you sure about that?'
'Yes, absolutely.'
Yokoyama was a great judge of character, so I was starting to have my doubts.
'Doesn't he have a sick sister? A granny he loves very much?'
'Nope. He does have around six girlfriends, though.'
I sighed.
'You don't know anything else?'
'Like what?'
Like whether or not he was a murderous psychopath, for example.
'Like who those friends in high places are, for example.'
He fell silent and then spoke slowly.
'All I can tell is one word. V6.'
'You're not making any sense.'
'That's all I can say.'
I was sure we were dealing with dangerous people, but when they scare the guy that creates new methods of setting people on fire, you know you're fucked.
I thought about it and then settled on getting as drunk as it was humanly possible. It changes your perspective or at least shakes it
up a little bit. Literally.
I almost succeeded and when I got out of the daze, it was 7 A.M. and morning was breaking. I decided that Yokoyama was drunk enough to
forget all survival instincts - so was I - so I repeated the question.
'Come on, tell me. Who are these V6 guys?'
'OK, I will but don't tell them I told you. They're a super secret league of men that control the JE studio.'
'That's … not surprising. And not a secret either.'
'Yes, but nobody knows who they are.'
'Let me guess. Miyake, Sakamoto, Nagano and Okada, aren't they?'
'You're too smart for your own good.'
'No, the JE is too transparent. Except from Miyake, the other two are executives that have tons of power. And Sakamoto is a board member. I don't know why it is secret.'
'They're six, you idiot.'
'So? The other board members?'
'I can't talk. Besides, you're meeting them soon.'
'What? You sold me out? Again?'
'Sorry. I love my job. Where else do I get to blow up stuff and get paid for it?'
I tried to run away, but tripped several times. The streets were starting to get full of people and everybody looked suspicious. These guys may not have been psychos, but they were, at least, negligent regarding the health of their actors. And directors. And Shinto priests.
I was being followed and I knew it. A car stopped right in front of me and some brawny guy threw me into the trunk. The car sped through Tokyo in a mad chase towards nowhere and all I hoped was to get out of it alive.
We stopped and they blindfolded me before taking me out. It surprised me, since I was too drunk to even remember where I had been the night before.
We walked - well, they walked and I staggered - until I heard a door open and I was unceremoniously seated in a cold, metallic chair.
They removed the blindfold and I saw an almost empty office. It was dim and I could hear another person mutter and struggle to my right.
To my great surprise, it was Taguchi.
My first impulse was to ask what the hell was he doing there, but I still had a bit of common sense left.
'Welcome,' said a velvety voice. 'We hope you're enjoying yourself.'
I glanced around and saw a shadowy figure sitting in another chair.
'Yeah, you've got a really high end establishment here.'
There went my last bit of common sense.
'Your sarcasm is no good here. What do you know about Operation Darling?'
'Nothing at all, sir.'
The voice laughed. It was chilling.
'We broke into your apartment. We have seen the files.'
'Oh. Did you find the actor too? I was planning on returning him, I swear.'
'No, he had to go film a movie. The one we finance.'
'Oh. You're Sakamoto.'
He didn't look as imposing as I had imagined him to be.
'You're smart.'
'Do I get an explanation before being dropped into Tokyo Bay?'
'Maybe. Do you promise to shut up?'
It was obvious we both knew the answer.
'Nope.'
'Figures. Can we strike a deal?'
A deal? Why a deal?
'If your offer is good enough.'
I had bluffed my way through life and I was an expert at it.
'So, in exchange of your life, you get to expose a dark, dark plot to murder two up and coming actors.'
'And what do I get to hide?'
'Our involvement in it.'
'Can I ask you something? Is this a publicity stunt?'
'No.'
'So it has something to with insurance policies?'
'No, you can't ask anything.'
'You're no fun at all. I want my explanation. It's the way things are done.'
'You're not the hero, but I like your style. I'll tell you. It's just a retirement present.'
'Are you fucking kidding me?'
'No. Ken wanted to do something memorable. What's better than a murder plot?'
'A dead actor?'
'There are more where that one came from.'
'He wanted Yamashita dead, didn't he?'
'It would have been a welcomed side-effect.'
My eyes were getting used to the dimness and I could see two other guys. They were all wearing the same kind of well-tailored suit that looks expensive, smells like money and brings all the gold-diggers to the yard.
'Don't you have a conscience? Any of you?'
'I'm a lawyer,' said one of them.
'And I'm an executive producer.'
Sakamoto just smiled in such a way it made his answer very clear.
'Good point. A soul?'
'I used to work in the idol business,' he said and shrugged.
'Oh. At least you have a brain.'
'Sadly, I also lack a heart. It was nice meeting you, but the fishes await you.'
Okada gave a dumb-looking thug one look and the thug nodded. They left and only the thug remained.
'Tanaka?!' I heard Taguchi scream.
'Taguchi! This is so weird! What are you doing here?'
'I'm being kidnapped.'
Tanaka got a little bit closer. I could see all his tattoos. It was a sight I didn't need.
Taguchi and he engaged in the kind of conversation you have at class reunions. It was out of place and out of a surreal movie. Luis
Buñuel would have been proud.
'Oh, that's too bad.'
'Come on, let us go. We're buddies!'
'Oh, no. These guys are dangerous. They'll find out I helped you and kill me.'
'I can punch you out. I'm half-way untied, anyway, so that'll be the end result. Let's save ourselves the trouble.'
He sounded smart. It scared me.
'You were always good at ropes.'
Tanaka - who ever the hell he was - untied Taguchi first, who then unceremoniously knocked him out. I was then untied too and left to
wonder at the many marvels that the world offered.
As we traversed the complicated hallways of JE - I recognized the place now -, I couldn't contain my curiosity.
'Who the fuck was that?'
'I met him at the chess club, back in high school.'
Suddenly, everyone thought I was an idiot. I was starting to think that as well.
'Yeah, right. The truth now.'
'I have pictures.'
'Right.'
'Pictures.'
'I said right. That means I buy it. Barely, but I do.'
I could say the same about my life as a whole.
When I got home, I was not surprised to see Kamenashi's stuff neatly packed besides the door and him sitting in my couch with a cup of coffee in hand.
'I'm going away. The studio called and explained the situation to me.'
I hanged my jacket and sat besides him. I didn't want to look at him in the face.
'Figures.'
'Look, thanks but this is impossible. We're enemies by nature. I'm an actor. You're a photographer. I can't trust you, do you
understand? Besides, they want you dead or at least quiet.'
I slowly drowned into my couch.
'I will be quiet, don't worry.'
'Yeah, right. You have a big mouth, didn't you realize? All you do is blabber.'
'I like being alive.'
'It does seem silly, though. To kill you for a prank.'
'Yeah, the whole thing sounds awfully silly but that's life for you.'
He shut up for a little and I was grateful. It couldn't last much.
'There's a part of the script that sounds like this.'
'Really?'
Some day, I had to get my hands on that script.
'Yeah, my character is leaving Toda's home and she asks if they'll ever meet again. She's the wife of a low rank samurai and I'm a
vampire that refuses to kill but is always forced to do so.'
It was the best thing on the face on Earth. I hoped the movie was a success if only to see a sequel.
'That sounds original.'
'The combined powers of Ninomiya and Matsumoto. But I digress. So they're separating and she asks that.'
'What does the wise vampire say?'
'Nothing. He was never there to begin with. It was all in her mind.'
'Are you telling me you're a hallucination? Because being crazy would explain a lot, actually.'
'No, I'm telling you this whole situation is as preposterous as trying to kill Akanishi was. We were in the middle of an elaborate
prank. We fell for it and ... Just treat it as a dream.'
'A nightmare, you mean. And I didn't even get laid.'
He softly punched me in the shoulder.
'And you didn't even get an exposé!'
'What?! Tell your bosses I'll do whatever I want.'
'No, you won't. You can print a phoney story on the murder plot. Just say you never found out who did it.'
My future looked bleak. So did my present.
'Nakamaru will kill me. And refuse to refund me the expenses.'
'Then be smarter next time.'
'Next time?'
'Yeah, or do you actually think this is the last time you'll have trouble with the studio?'
'See? You're confusing me now. Weren't you an imaginary vampire and wasn't this all a dream?'
'That's the movie, although it wasn't all a dream.'
That movie kept getting better and better.
'Then this is real life and if this is real life, we don't get second chances.'
Real life kept getting worse.
'You really think that?'
'I do. I'm a photographer, you're an actor and this is the end of Roman Holiday.'
'Of what? We're not in Rome.'
'Of a movie you should see. You know, you could be the next Audrey Hepburn. All it'll take is to dial down the bitchiness.'
I had hit a philosophical state of mind or at least I had stopped caring about everything. I focused on a grey point of my grey wall
and said nothing more.
He jumped off the couch.
'Look, I'm going. We may meet again. We may not. I just wanted to say thanks and goodbye.'
'Don't I even get a kiss?'
'No. They're addictive.'
I smiled.
'Ok then. Goodbye.'
He left. I didn't move away from the couch. It was as a toothache had passed and a dull relief was setting in.
Tomorrow was another day and even if I felt as a mermaid who has let a sailor pass by, I didn't care.
I was alive and life was normal again. Colours may be pretty, but when they're clashing they make your head hurt and those weeks had been adventure enough.
Life went on as life is wont to do.
Nakamaru almost fired me and when he was ready to close down the magazine, Taguchi offered him the exposé of the century - a 7-parts article about JE's tax fraud and general embezzling. He avoided mentioning any prank and he and Tanaka Koki - I knew they didn't know each other from chess club - went on to bigger and better paid things. He had played us like a fiddle and I didn't even care.
Apparently, his whole 'investigative journalist' was not a lie. His real name was 'Taguchi Junnosuke' - not Taro, as he had told us - and at first, I vaguely recognized the name. Then, one night, as I was watching the news, I remembered. He had uncovered a politician's relationship with the yakuza and had subsequently vanished from the face of the Earth. Most of us had assumed he had gone to the big pachinko parlour in Heaven, but as it turns out, he had since then found bigger fishes to catch.
I was already doubtful of his intelligence, but now I was doubtful of his sanity. Journalism, for me, had always been about money and scoring with some chicks - or guys. The camera was just a glamorous way of saying 'Hey, I'm almost in!' and desperate people reacted to that. I had never thought of taking it seriously.
So, in the end, he was a famous, award-winning journalist and I was the paparazzi for a half-closed down tabloid. The only thing we had common was that the JE had it out for both of us and that wasn't comforting at all.
Ken Miyake retired, happy and content. My mom bought herself a karaoke machine. A technician proposed to Toda Erika. She accepted. Ninomiya tiptoed out of the closet and then went back into it. His boyfriend - since Kamenashi was right - showed up in a magazine a few days later, surrounded by chicks and drug rumours. Matsumoto managed to not have a psychotic episode. Yokoyama lost a testicle in a weird explosive accident. Aiba Masaki decided to become the next Best Stuntman in Town. The store around the corner was closed. Kamenashi's apartment building was rebuilt. Yamashita created his own fragrance, 'Pink Seduction'. Akanishi followed with 'Red Passion'. They were successful and parents of teenaged girls lost yet a little more of hope for the future. Tanaka Koki, Taguchi's former companion, decided life as thug was far more rewarding and joined the ranks of Kamenashi's bodyguards. Movie filming resumed and nobody tried to kill Akanishi again.
I followed it in the news and in the tabloids and was relieved that no other friend of Sakamoto and company - the V6, as Yokoyama had called them - had decided to retire.
I woke up every morning, had a cup of coffee left over from the night before - it tasted accordingly awful -, hopped into my car and stalked some starlets. Nakamaru had decided I was on probation - and he hadn't even paid me my expenses.
I met Taguchi twice. He treated me as an equal and called me his 'adventure companion'. He also told me he needed a photographer. I turned down the offer but kept his business car in my wallet.
Once, I met Akanishi. He paid for the drinks and I ended up carrying him home. Yamashita took care of him all night.
'You knew it all along, didn't you?'
Yamashita didn't look at me when he answered:
'Maybe.'
I revaluated my opinion of them just a teensy bit. They might have been idiots, but they were loveable idiots and maybe had some hidden
depths.
Sometimes I went out and caught a glimpse of a waifish guy surrounded by bodyguards. He never gave me a second glance.
One night, I was among the wannabes, the has-beens and the will-always-be, soaked in vodka. I lay in a chair and bobbed my heart to the
music, with my eyes shut. The lights kept going and the world kept spinning.
I heard someone snort and I flipped them off.
'Watch your manners.'
I didn't recognize the voice. I recognized the sneer.
'Star boy.'
'Paper boy,' he answered and sat down besides me.
He took care not to touch me.
'What are you doing here?'
'Not getting infamously drunk.'
I laughed.
'You're so boring.'
'We've already established that.'
'Why are you talking to me?'
'Because you're covered in your own vomit.'
'So what? It's my life and my prerogative.'
'One of my bodyguards is going to give you a ride home.'
I opened my eyes.
'Do I get a good night kiss?'
'No. You get a shower.'
'You're no fun at all.'
He laughed and went away.
I'm still not sure it was real.
It was a turning point, real or not. When you start to imagine encounters with divas that act as fairy godmothers, it means there's something wrong with you or at least with your life.
Spring was nearly over and as much as I loved my new job of stalking teen starlets, something was missing. The call to adventure was
strong and irresistible. There are so many unsolved murders - or so I thought -, so many suspicious contracts and secretive producers
in this part of town that leaving them untouched was almost a crime.
Besides, who wouldn't want a life that could be summed up as 'He's an investigative reporter haunted by his dark past. He's a janitor that's more than meets the eye. Together, they fight crime!'?
Taguchi's business card burnt my wallet.
When we met again, he was as enthusiastic as ever,even if his hair was of an strident shade of blond now. He even gave me a new camera and a codename.
I thought it was silly at first. When, in the span of one week, we were chased by wolves, stalked by Russian mobsters, trapped in sinking boats and pushed of two buildings, I decided that he was just cautious.
I changed apartments. I sold most of my cinema books. I didn't have a need for them anymore. Why should I want to make movies when my life was a movie in full Technicolor?
Only one thing was missing and I knew I could get it. All I needed to do was to work on my timing.
Last week of an already several weeks late filming. Depressed actors, excited extras, stressed producers, calm directors and all of
cinema's interesting fauna.
And in the middle, a man with hips that could con Rockefeller out of his fortune and the eyes of a demon selling you insurance. The studio was chaos, again, but I wasn't aware.
The set pulsed with animation and hidden tension, with excitement and concealed joy. I just walked amidst the loud talk and between a heated argument between Matsumoto and Ninomiya. Aiba Masaki was playing with matches and switches. A woman was laughing and showing off a brand new ring surrounded by make up artists. Two stars were having a beer and looking dejected in a corner.
And I just walked. I did not give a damn about the future. I didn't give a damn about the past. I just wanted what I was looking for. Maybe it was ridiculous and made no sense. Maybe we didn't match. Maybe that's why we liked each other. Maybe we were a pair made in Heaven.
So I stepped up to the plate and grabbed his wrist.
'Hi.'
'Hi.'
'I want my kiss.'
'Take it.'
I embraced him and kissed him in such a way Clark Gable would have been proud.
At that exact same instant, Matsumoto decided he had had enough and decided that the 'Wrap up!' cake would look great in Ninomiya's face. And as we kissed, the battle roared and the world keep spinning, spinning out of his axis as it always does. Chaos ensued in each corner of Earth. Somewhere, Yokoyama blew up something. Sakamoto planned another awesome prank. Okada drew up some contract that'd tie a poor sucker to the studio forever. Lemmings jumped out cliffs. Taguchi found a new interesting topic and tried to call me. Nakamaru filled a bathtub with money. Tanaka played chess with one of Kamenashi's bodyguards. A murderous Shinto priest played with his dog. A scorned opera singer opened her third bottle of champagne.
And I? I didn't care. I had all I wanted and even more.
I took his hand and led him out. My battered old car was waiting for us. I smiled at him.
'Just for today,' he said and I shrugged.
'Are you sure?'
He laughed. I laughed too.
Life was an endless highway and I had the convertible and the love interest.
Nothing could stop us now.