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“Hey, I know I’m cute, but if you keep staring, I’m going to think I have something on my face,” Rika says, chewing on her straw. She flashes a toothy grin at Momoe’s bright red ears.
Ai couldn’t make it to their little hangout today because she had supplementary lessons, and Neiru was… busy. Whatever that meant. She didn’t have to go to school and suffer through boring classes like the rest of them.
Ugh, Rika almost misses her. Almost. Not quite enough.
“S-sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.” Momoe coughs into her fist and looks away. “I um… your choker… I like your choker.”
“Oh, this little thing? Yeah, I got it to match my outfit.”
“It’s very cute,” Momoe tugs on the cuffs of her sleeves, muttering under her breath. “You’re very cute.”
Rika’s been told she’s cute millions of times. It’s what she says to herself first thing in the morning. Yet still, Momoe’s words have a genuine tone to them. As if she really means what she says.
Momoe tilts her head, and the sunlight catches on her hair, illuminating it like the blaze of a fire. “Do I have something on my face?”
Rika tears her gaze away and stammers, “No, you’re just gay!”
“Is it gay to call another girl cute?” Momoe sniffles and crap, noooooo why is Rika like this?
“I have another thing that’s cuter,” Rika says as casually as possible, but desperation gives a higher pitch to her tone. “You can have it.”
“Really? But—”
Rika stuffs a fry against Momoe’s mouth and gives her time to chew through the fry before talking again. “I have a ton of things laying around that just don’t fit my style anymore. I could either throw it all away or give it to you. No promises when, though.” It’s likely buried in a sea of old dusty junk.
“…when you put it that way…”
“I know. I’m cute and a genius,” Rika says haughtily, but it doesn’t have the effect she wants when it’s this half-hearted.
“You are,” Momoe says with that smile that crinkles her eyes. The one that makes Rika feel things.
“Just text me when you’re free.”
Rika is many things, and a habitual liar is one of them, which is why she doesn’t know why she’s on her knees, digging through her closet like an old grave for that box haphazardly stowed away. Momoe’s smile comes to mind again, and it’s been the one constantly on her mind as of late.
A bunch of her jackets have been chucked onto her bed, but still no sight of that cursed box. She had half a mind to throw it into the combustibles, but she didn’t, and now she’s here.
The moment she left showbiz, she dyed her hair, shoved the dresses in a beat up box, forgotten like she wanted to be. Who cares that she’s cute. That there were fans that loved her. It still wouldn’t change the past.
The racket of old farts, drinking at the bar, punctures her eardrums the way a construction site would if it was downstairs and in her house. She grabs a box and, in a surge of frustration, hurls it behind her, not giving a damn where the clothes spilled. In here, not even the lights of her room would reach.
She places her back against the dusty boxes, filled with memories of a lie, and curls in on herself. Ducking her head and cupping her ears, she tries to drown away the racket.
Why was she such an idiot?
Nobody cares.
Except she does.
Her phone flashes, and it vibrates two more times in a few minutes. Well, her self-loathing will always be there, she could put it on hold for a minute. Grabbing her phone, she checks the messages in the group chat.
Rika stares at the screen, watching more bubbles pop up. She should probably say something, but… what can she say?
She doesn’t know if she has the mental capacity to answer right now. Her mind’s overtaxed with the assault of her guilty memories. Now she’s sitting here in the dark, and the glare of her phone is blinding— like the sun’s rays if she stared too long at it.
There’s a slight tug on her pant leg, and she finds her turtle there. She looks down, and her lips curl into a smile. “When did you come out?” Mannen tilts his head and makes a happy sound. He hobbles away to a corner and drags something in its mouth. Oh, there it was — her old necklace.
“Thanks, Mannen.” She pets his little head with her finger and picks it up. The leather strap is a familiar weight, with a small hallowed out heart as the main piece. Clicking back to her home screen, she lines up the shape of the necklace right against the picture of her friends, eyeballing it against Momoe’s neck. “This will do.”
There’s another notification slipping down, and Ai has sent a cat image. The girl has good tastes, she’ll give her that. Rika grips her phone in both hands and sends a quick message.
Rika snorts, and the ball of anger has unfurled as it dissipates with each and every laugh. She scoops her turtle onto her lap and starts typing away.
Rika’s face scrunches up, and she stares at the bowl like it committed a crime against humanity. “How could you do this to me, Neiru? I thought we were friends!”
“We are,” Neiru says as simple as breathing. “I’m watching out for your health.” Ai snickers in the background, taking a large bite out of her juicy hamburger. When Rika directs her glare at her, Ai looks away innocently. She’s lucky she’s so cute.
Rika’s eyes narrow as the corner of Neiru’s mouth turn up. “Ooooh, that’s rich coming from you,” she growls, snatching up a piece and chomping on the tiny tree the way she wants to mow down a forest.
“Now, now, Rika. Neiru means well.” Momoe pushes her fries forward. “Here, you can have some of mine.”
“You’re a saint, Momoe.” Rika gleefully takes a stack of fries and munches on them, brushing off the foul taste of leafy fiber with the blessings of greasy salt.
Neiru sighs, picking up her burger, though she’s eating it with less gusto than Ai. Rika half expected her to use a knife and fork with how dainty she eats. Sucking off the salt on her fingers, she wipes her hand on the napkins.
“Oh here,” Rika digs through her pockets. “This should fit you. Everything else was too small.” She dangles a small necklace on her index finger.
Momoe holds both hands out and cups it as though it were something precious instead of the cheap mass-produced thing that it was. “It’s so cute!! I love it!! Thank you, Rika!” She beams a smile so wide, almost on par with one of Ai’s.
There it is again. Rika’s heart rate picks up speed as her face heats up in the beginning of a blush. Instead of demanding praise, she turns her head and says quietly, “It’s nothing,” She catches Neiru’s eyes and has half a mind to throw a piece of broccoli at her.
Neiru doesn’t say anything and instead offers a bottle of juice as a peace offering. The kind Rika would buy more often if it didn’t cost a pretty penny. She accepts it and takes a long swig out of it. Bubbling laughter and little jokes passed between the two talkative members of their ragtag bunch.
Life ain’t so bad all the time.