Doll (MikaYuu)

♦37♦ - Walk, Walk

I was still jamming.

"Well, well, well..." I spun around at both voices behind me and in the in-ear. I smiled as he leaned against the doorway. He looked amazing. "If it isn't Amane."

"Shindo." I replied, sliding off the stool. Damn... He looked so good in his button-up vest and tie. Classy. "Okay, can you please explain to me what the heck is going on here?"

He gave me a funny look, a small shrug. "It's a fashion show. My first year, but second time going."

I nodded, still a little in the void. "This should be interesting. I think. What is this, like America's Next Top Model?"

He laughed a beautiful sound I'd never get tired of. "Ah, nothing of the sort, really. You'll see."

It seems the echoing noises outside had finally gotten to him as he furrowed his eyebrows. He went up to the corner of the prep room, sliding aside a small blind, which I didn't even notice, that covered a small, dusty window. A barely-audible, uneasy noise left him after he witnessed, which of course brought me curiosity.

"What?" I asked as if it were nothing. I swore I could see him sweating a little.

He leant down, covered his mouth as if he'd tasted something bad. "There weren't that many people there last time... What if I fail at talking?"

As if he could fail at being fucking amazing.

I predicted it was nothing but candid shyness, but I could see his face a bold pale and his hands tremulous against his face. He was far beyond panic. He looked like he was going to hurl. It kind of frightened me to witness.

What could I do...

Geez! Couldn't these people just meet him
backstage or something?

I went up to him and held his face steady, his hand automatically cupping around my own. "Breathe," I calmly murmured to him, demonstrating what I wanted him to do. He stared in concentration, mimicking me. "Just breathe. Don't be pessimistic."

He matched his breathing with my own, his pulse still thumping harshly against my palms.

When his pulse slightly slowed, I saw the faintest smile on his face. I continued. "Keep all of your other thoughts away, just put your vocabulary up front. Pretend you're just rehearsing."

"I'm so never speaking again after this," he chuckled breathily, licking his parched lips. I laughed too, brushing the hair out of his face.

"You got this."

Both of our in-ears buzzed, a womanly voice ringing in.

"Mikaela, prêt?"

He calmed me with a thankful look. I smiled back. You got this.

I gave him a reassuring squeeze on his hands before he made his way off.

"Let me hear some!" I joked, making him roll his eyes.

He pulled the mic closer to his lips, steadily replying much calmer now. "J'arrive tout de suite."

Damn. I winked, chuckling as he strutted out the doorway.

Minutes later, I was peering out the windowed corner in awe, my face smushed into the glass. I was so excited. I never knew I could get excited over something like this. It was all Mika. Had to be. Either that or my mother was seriously possessing me.

I locked eyes on the runway, smiling brightly at the positive hysteria erupting as he waved while coming out. This was going to be good. He was practically worshiped. Hell, I was so jealous...