A week.
It had been a week since their show, a week since I last saw them, a week since I had heard their voices. Even longer since I had done any of those things in person. An entire week.
And here I was, miserable, my face aching from the fake smile I had put on, walking off the stage after my first solo show in my entire career.
"What the hell was that?" Unfortunately, Tatsuo had caught on to the actions of the others, and insisted on being present at my show. This one was a ticketed one, thank God, but I had a deep feeling of guilt inside me knowing that no one in that crowd received the show they were expecting; the show they had paid for.
"It was a concert," I retorted, dumbly. I kept my eyes to the ground, a blank expression on my face.
His face, however, held a sour look. "I told you, this show was supposed to ease all the fans into the new changes. And after that?" He pointed to the stage where I had just exited. The crowd was still cheering. I couldn't help but notice that they lacked their usual enthusiasm. "After that, they'll be asking even more questions."
I crossed my arms. "Oh no," I deadpanned.
"Listen, Rin," his voice lowered, and I was forced to meet his angry eyes. "Do you want to lose your fans?"
I let out a breath, but didn't respond.
"Do you want to disappoint the people who gave everything to you?" He leaned closer to me.
Where is Erik? I needed some sort of defense. But there was no one in this hall except for me and the threatening man in front of me.
"Do you really want people to come to your show and leave disappointed? Aren't you supposed to be all about your fans? I thought you of all the others actually cared about them."
I felt myself shaking.
"Do you even care at all?" He rose his voice.
It almost seemed like he was trying to make me angry.
"Answer me," he sneered.
"Fuck off," I finally said.
He paused, and, after a moment, stood tall once more. He chuckled. "Let's go."
I hesitated in following him through the hallway, but I found I had no choice. My footsteps were nothing but small taps against the marble floor. His were thunderous stomps that echoed against the walls.
It had been a horrible show. I smiled, I danced, I laughed, and I fought back tears the entire time. There was no thrill. There was no adrenaline rush, no stage high. Just loneliness. The stage was huge without another living soul to occupy it with me, and I felt much, much too small compared to it. There was no doubt in my mind that the crowd had noticed.
The unease in our fanbase had skyrocketed after the show the others had put on. It had been my job to put everything back in place. I had failed. And I couldn't care less.
We entered a large room behind the stage. The signing room. To my left was a line of fans, already stretching out the door, each holding a poster, a CD, a shirt, something for me to sign. Cheers rose up as I entered, and I felt the first genuine smile of the night fill my face.
But, as I turned to them, I felt Tatsuo grab my arm. "We're leaving."
My heart dropped. "Excuse me?" I slowly turned my gaze to him. We were just out of earshot of the fans.
"You put on a show like that, and you expect me to let you talk to them afterwards?" He looked at me incredulously. "We're leaving."
Another surge of anger shot through me. "Bullshit, we're leaving," I repeated, yanking my arm out of his grip.
"If you make a scene, I swear-" He began through clenched teeth.
"You swear what?" I felt my voice rising. "You just gave me an entire speech on the importance of making sure my fans still love me, and you won't even let me sign for them? Interact with them? Something I do after every single show? And you think that'll make them feel better about this whole thing?"
"Rin. Quit talking." His hands were balled into fists, and I felt his anger rising. The fans were watching.
"No," I answered, loud enough for the entire room of crew, instrumentalists, and fans to hear. "You're the one who put me in this shithole of a situation, you're the one who put yourself in this shithole of a situation, and yet you want me to fix it? And then when I actually try to make this whole thing a little less hellish for all of us, you tell me that it's my fault that we can't?" Standing on my tippy toes, I impulsively pushed my hands out in front of me, shoving him away from me to create a little more space between me and the fucker in front of me. "This is your fucking problem!" I yelled. "Fix it."
The entire room held its breath. A camera flashed.
With that, I circled around him, exiting out the back stage. The fans groaned and cried after me in protest, a sound that was as appealing as nails against the chalkboard. For the first time, I stepped into the night, entering the car of my chauffeur, and didn't sign a single thing.
I had flown here.
The last time I was on a plane was when Ia and I had helped my parents move. Now, here I was, in the same city as them, and completely unable to see them. My entire life was planned out, surely Tatsuo's work, and after that stunt at the concert, I was sure there would be hell to pay. But what else could he do? He had already taken everything from me. I had nothing to lose.
Although it was California, it was still winter. I could get away with wearing my dresses as long as I opted for the heavier, warmer ones. It was in one of these that I stood in, backstage at Iroha's show, quaking under the pressure of whatever was about to happen.
Another attempt at soothing the fanbase. I knew it. It seemed stupid to me that Tatsuo would allow me to go onto stage once more after the horrible attempt at a recovery a few days ago. The concert was still being talked about online, and the rumors for what had happened between me and the Vocals were swarming. I was here to clear them up.
The most frightening thing about the next hour was that Iroha had way too much power and influence in her position to be threatened by Tatsuo. There was no way she could be scared into doing his will, she had solidified herself into the world of show business too well to be affected by anything he could do. Which meant she would be asking me lots of questions that he did not want me to answer, and I would be forced to. And he expected me to lie.
I sighed, leaning against the wall. People rushed around me. I noticed recently that people had begun to swing widely around me whenever I was near. A fraction of the conversations I used to have took place now. But the guilty looks I received had tripled. Everyone here knew my position, or at least had some sort of idea, and stared at me like I was some sort of patient, infected by a disease with no cure. It had only been a few days since I returned to my shows and interviews, and I had already gotten used to it.
"Rin," a stage manager ran up to me. "Show starts in five."
"Thanks," I answered, without looking at her.
She lingered for a moment, then lowered her voice. "...Iroha wanted me to tell you something."
I turned my gaze towards her, still leaning my suddenly-throbbing head against the cold wall. "What?"
"She wants to help you."
I blinked. "Help me?"
"She knows what's going on, and she wants to help you."
"How?"
The lady clutched at her clipboard. "I don't know. She just told me to relay the message."
I furrowed my brow. "Okay."
She nodded one last time, and then ran off.
I crossed my arms. Why would she tell me that, and nothing else? If she was doing it before the show, it must be to tell me to answer honestly. But she must know that there's no way I could do that. Tatsuo was here, somewhere. He had been avoiding me since the show, and if that was all it took to get him away from me, I would have done it days ago.
Out of nowhere, the intro theme for the show began playing, and the crowd applauded as the show began. Iroha was walking onto stage, probably, in her usual, confident manner.
"Good morning, California!" She cheered, laughing softly. Once the applause ceased, she spoke again. "Today, we have the honor of hosting a past visitor onto the show-"
Everyone is watching, I thought. My parents, Ia, Erik, and the others. I imagined my friends gathered in Miku and Luka's apartment, silently staring at the TV. It was certainly exactly what they were doing right now. I tried to imagine how Len must be feeling, watching me like this. I took a deep breath. Whatever happens, it'll all be okay. I didn't do a very good job of convincing myself. All eyes were on me. It was my move.
"-without further ado, here she is! Rin!"
I leaned off of the wall, walking slowly to the stage entrance. The second the cameras and the crowd came into view, I pulled my hesitant lips into a smile, waving gently and stepping towards the couch. More applause. More mindless drone.
"Rin!" Iroha beamed at me as she gave me a brief hug. "It's so nice to see you!"
"Thank you, Iroha," I said, trying to keep my voice straight. "It's very nice of you to have me." Here's that fake shit again. It had been bearable the first time, when I had Len with me, but now, I felt like puking.
Iroha sat in her chair, crossing her legs while I lowered myself onto the couch across from her.
"Oh, Rinny," she began, a notepad resting on her lap. "That was quite the show the other day. How did it feel to rock the entire stage by yourself?"
The question took me off guard. I lowered my eyes, and then immediately rose them once more to meet her gaze. She's getting right into it, I figured. Every movement of mine was being recorded, watched, and analyzed. It was vital that I kept control of my body language.
"It was a new experience," I answered, trying to avoid negative wording. "What with there being so much extra space, I felt compelled to... I guess, run around more?" I laughed emptily at the answer. "Dance more, you know. All that stuff. I was exhausted after the show." I widened my eyes for emphasis.
"I would never be able to do it myself," Iroha told me. "That's why I just sit in my little chair for a living." She patted the armrest of her bleach-white chair as laughter rippled through the crowd. "And I'm sure travelling alone must be difficult, too."
What's with all the uncomfortable questions? She definitely wasn't acting like she was trying to help me, putting me in the difficult situation of answering these without betraying my position and trying to be honest at the same time.
I smiled. My mind raced for words to say. "It's nice having my own hotel room," I laughed. And wave of chuckled ran out past me.
"I can understand that," she agreed, looking back down at her notepad. "Now, I really must ask the question that is on everyone's mind, if I may."
Oh no.
"What happened?" She asked, concern rising in her voice. "Why aren't you with the others anymore?"
I took in a breath, searching for something to say. They're watching, I reminded myself. I couldn't tell them we had a falling out, that would mean having to pretend that my best friends were my enemies for the rest of my career. I couldn't tell her I was kicked out, because that would create a barrier between my fans and theirs, possibly starting a minor civil war.
It had been only a few seconds since she had asked the question, and that was way too long.
"I'm taking a break," I finally told her, crossing my legs and draping my intertwined fingers over my knee. "It was very sudden, being brought into this crazy world of concerts and fans and the like, and I felt a bit... overwhelmed. So I've decided to take a break."
"But you are still doing shows?" She inquired. If fifty cameras were not trained on me, I would have glared at her. What is she trying to do here? She's not helping at all.
"Yes," I answered. "I wanted to try one by myself, to see if there was any less... pressure."
She raised her eyebrows at me. "Was there?"
My thumbs were twiddling. I held them still. "It was different, though I'm not sure it was any better."
"Will you return to the Vocal's?"
I opened my mouth to answer, but no words came out. Everyone was watching. Oh no. No no no no no-
"Because it must be hard being away from them," she continued, her fingers drumming against her notepad.
"It is," I finally admitted. "I miss them. But I know it's for the better."
"Is it strange being away from Len?"
I flinched at his name. I couldn't help it. He's watching.
"What with you two spending so much time together during your few months with them, I'm sure it must be hard."
I took a deep breath, feeling almost angry at Iroha for putting me in this position. She knew exactly what I felt about-
And then it hit me. All the squirming I had done, all the uncomfortable questions I had answered. She was trying to get me to act nervous. Through my reactions to her questions, she was telling the entire world how miserable I was, how awful my position was, and that something was definitely wrong. She was helping, by giving her audience another glimpse into the life I was living. Even she was fidgeting herself, drumming her fingers against the notepad, shifting herself in her chair, but her nervous habits were totally purposeful, while mine were unconscious. My anger turned into awe. She was playing her world like a fiddle. Every movement was calculated, every word, every expression. Her strategy was impeccable. Telling the world exactly what was going on without a single word.
Hope swelled within me. It was a good idea. The fans were our lifeforce. If they knew something was wrong, change was bound to happen. They were still my only hope, and right then, right there, I felt at least some resemblance of control over my situation.
"Yeah," I finally said, relaxing a bit in the presence of a friend. "It's hard." I felt the peppiness in my voice melt away at the confession. I said no more.
Her voice dropped as well. A somber mood filled the stage. "When is the last time you spoke to him?"
With every question she asked, I took a deep breath. Pausing, I tried to remember. I would have to lie here. But the pause itself said enough. "A few days," I told her. "We had lunch a few days ago."
Lie.
She nodded, pleased that I had finally caught on to her game. "And the others?"
"...longer than that."
"That's unfortunate."
"It is," I agreed, trying to perk up a bit. "But we're still very close. Very."
She smiled, though sitting up here with her, I saw a glint of sadness in her eyes that was undetectable by the cameras. "That is good to hear." She lifted up her notepad, looking over it at she spoke. "The girl who sang with Len at their free show a few days ago. We've still not recieved a formal introduction from her," she pointed out. "Who is she?"
'The girl who sang with Len,' Her wording was so careful. She might as well have said 'The girl who replaced you.' I was amazed at her power to manipulate words.
"Oh!" I sat up straighter. "Her-her name is Kanon. But I will let her more official introduction to her," I smiled.
Her brow furrowed. "It just seems odd that a new singer would join your friends at the same time that you took a break from them."
"...It was quite sudden."
She nodded. "But, back to the show a few days ago."
Another thing on everyone's mind, I thought. 'Why was that show so awful?'
"I heard through the grapevine that you were unable to meet your fans after the show," she said.
I thought back to my argument with Tatsuo. "We had a busy night ahead of us."
Lie.
She nodded. "There was quite the commotion backstage after the show. What happened?"
She's asking about the fight. How was I supposed to skirt around this? "Oh," I chuckled. "It must have been a misunderstanding. There was nothing wrong."
"A misunderstanding," she repeated. I wondered if I was making this incredibly easy or incredibly hard for her. "But you wanted to see them, yes?"
Another deep breath. I uncrossed my legs. "It's a bit of a tradition, and I wasn't too intent on breaking it."
"But you had to." She emphasized the word with a nod of her head.
"...It was necessary."
"Was it?"
It was hidden as a rhetorical question to the crowd, but I knew better. She shuffled once more in her chair as I remained silent as a puppet.
"Are there any albums in your future as a solo artist?"
Then came the less uncomfortable questions. Those were much easier to answer. Future songs with other artists, how's the family doing, Holiday plans, and the like. Before I knew it, we had risen from our seats, hugged one final time, and exited the stage together as the crowd rang out behind us.
The second we were hidden backstage, I turned to her. "Iroha, you don't even know-"
Her eyes flickered behind me, silencing my words. I followed her gaze. Tatsuo stood, watching us, his arms crossed.
Iroha lifted her chin up slightly as she addressed him. "The new Vocal manager?" She smiled. "What an honor. I would have liked to see you on the stage-"
"Yeah, I know you would have," he interrupted.
I stood between the two of them, all three of us knowing the extent of the situation, and all three of us knowing what exactly had just been broadcasted to the world. Another win for us. I grinned, despite the tense air that stood between all of us.
Iroha sighed, dropping all acts. "I expected more from you, Tatsuo. It was blindingly obvious that Rin was unhappy at the concert, and you allow her to appear in public again? Foolish, almost." She crossed her arms, speaking with the grace of a queen.
"I'm not worried," he huffed.
She raised an eyebrow. "No?"
"It's not your place to interfere with the affairs of my clients."
"But Rin is not your client," she pointed out. "She is Erik's."
"While she is apart of this company," Tatsuo was growing frustrated. "She is my client. And you, along with your little talk show, have no power over that."
I felt like I was witnessing a battle between two gods. Iroha a kind and mystical being, Tatsuo a rough, war-torn devil. I instinctively moved against the walls as they spoke. Being caught in the middle of this would mean certain death. These two must have history.
"You're right," Iroha huffed. "I don't. But I do have more than a little bit of control over how they-" she pointed to the stage. "....view said company."
He let out a laugh so powerful it shook the walls. "They have been around longer than you and you're stupid gossip group. Their fans are set in stone."
"It was an interesting concert, Rin's," she pointed out, casting a glance at me. "And an even more interesting show afterward."
"I don't know what you're talking about," he lied.
"Would a photo jog your memory?" She grinned.
A camera flashed. Iroha had a picture of me screaming at Tatsuo. I would have died to see it.
He said nothing.
"They don't love you, Tatsuo," she pointed out. "They love Rin. And Miku. And Len. And everyone else. And when they figure out what you're doing to them, what will they say?"
We have him. I smiled from the wall, thankful that Iroha was on my side. Oh my god, we have him. This is it, this is the loophole! If we can scare him enough into thinking he's ruining the company, he's sure to step down. I promised myself to start packing the second I arrived back at my flat after this trip.
"It doesn't matter what they say," he said.
She laughed. "I think you're wrong."
This time, it was Tatsuo that smiled. "Go ahead. Put the picture out. I don't care if everyone thinks Rin is unhappy with her position."
"Why not?" Her voice wavered, along with my hope.
"Because I don't care if Rin is unhappy with her position." He folded his arms. "The Vocals survived without her for years. They can do it again."
My smiled wiped itself off of my face.
"You said it yourself," he continued. "Why should I let her make public appearances if she's going to make an idiot out of me and my clients? She is a callback, after all." He glanced snidely at me.
A callback. Me.
"And callbacks don't perform, anyway. So why should she?"
They had told me that being a callback was the life to live. No shows, no commitments, just parties and money. Get paid for doing nothing. But I would never dream of going to a party without my friends. Doing nothing included sitting on my pile of pillows, a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, staring mindlessly at the TV. I'd been doing that for almost two weeks. Could I do it for the rest of my life?
Helplessness filled me once more as our lead slipped out of my grasp.
Iroha was silent.
With a final smirk, Tatsuo turned on his heel, and sauntered away.
"Don't listen to him," Iroha said, grabbing my arm. "He doesn't know what he's talking about."
Her words were unconvincing.
"I will still leak out this photo," she promised. "And the audience will hear about it. And it'll be viral by tomorrow night. I swear to you."
I frowned at the floor between us.
"I will help you get out of this, Rin."
There were many promises of the same nature being made to me, and yet no change had yet to occur. Driving back to my barren hotel room, I could feel myself losing hope by the second.