Jon had assumed Gackt was out when he decided to rebel and bring his McDonalds’ dinner into the studio. McDonalds was his special treat but Gackt always looked so disapproving with him when he ate it, that he often savoured the food in the car like a naughty kid sneaking sweets.
“What is that?” Gackt demanded as he walked into the room, like some kind of tyrant, or Jon's old teacher from high school, a man who seemed to rule through fear and strict discipline. It was probably this teacher that had given Jon the life lessons he needed for working with such a perfectionist.
“This is a burger,” Jon announced, holding up his half-eaten dinner. “And these are fries and this here is a diet coke, got to watch my weight.”
“That is a pile of grease, those are sticks of fat and your drink is nothing but chemicals mixed in water.” Gackt informed Jon, less than impressed.
“This is what fuels America!” Jon exclaimed. “We American's can't survive without it!”
“Of course you can.” Gackt replied less than impressed but after another ten minutes arguing he felt what had once been common sense, now sounded like the naive opinions of a child. “Just eat your burger.” He sighed as he got up and walked out, determined to find one of his bodyguards who might give him an honest answer when it came to American eating habits.
“Hey Jon,” Shinya spoke up. “Is it true that if American's don't eat enough fat, their limbs drop off?”
“Oh yes,” Jon replied with a smile. “And while we're on it, we don't have blood in our veins, just coffee, preferably Starbucks.”
“You're such a liar.” Shinya complained, feeling stupid for believing Jon's lies.
“Yeah well, it got Gackt to leave me to eat dinner in peace.” Jon replied with a grin as he took a huge bite of his burger, not minding in the slightest that it had now gone cold.