〈 S k i p B ea t 〉

[nethereal]

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Showbiz is no game, but if you play your cards right, you can slip your way to the top and into the media's hearts—what you'll see when you're there, I'm not responsible for. A story about one young girl's slow climb to the top, and an established actor's struggle to avoid hitting rock bottom. Inspired by the manga Skip Beat. Realistic romance and drama between Kristy and Ren.



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[nethereal]

"I wish? Oh-ho. Such a—what's the word I need, hmm?" Deep, monotonous voice melded with the crowd's susurration of whispering and harsh murmurs as gloved hands, previously busy tapping away at the wooden table, reached into his pocked and dragged out the small white box he'd tried to stay away from for all the much of a minute. The newly-brunette man could feel a boring glare in his skull, yet the colourful cardboard was comforting in his palm, fitting perfectly as if it was a part of his very being and an extension of the tanned skin beneath the black leather. Eyes traced the 'smoking kills' message plastered on its front with an almost guilt, yet moved past the thick black font as easily as he did as a young youth of fourteen or something, watched his hands drag out his death-stick and set it a blaze with the lighter he'd procured from his pocket earlier. Plump lips pursed around it, Ren breathed in, deep enough to tell watching bystanders the day hadn't been as calm as he might make it seem, let the cool scratching linger and float around his mouth, blew it straight into the air before him occupied by the petite girl with a scrunched-up expression like he'd killed a man. It was almost humorous. She deserved it, in character or not, letting him have a smoke was the least she could do. "Ah, yes, such a bold thing for a baby like you to say. Please, I'd love to know, what does someone as young as you know about what a man wishes for?" He chuckled at the thought of it, though maybe she was less innocent than she let on; afterall, she did wear that leather like—





An incessant ringing pierced the tense silence he'd let linger, and he took another deep puff of the cigarette in his hand as the noise slowly faded from his ears and a new noise of shuffling feet took its place. Standing abruptly, he almost knocked the chair over with his impressive build (or rather height, as he'd be lying if he told anyone he was 'buff'), not bothering to glance back at the quivering seat to see if it had survived, and sauntered his way over to the girl opposite. Feet uncrossed and spread too wide, sunk deep into the chair, gazing lazily up at the taller male, she really did look every bit the part of his rebellious teen sister and he hated it. If he squinted, Ren found he could remember the almost decent, frilly dress-wearing girl he'd met that day, soft spoken and a bit shy, and not the leather-clad demon that was his female-mirror-image sitting before him. A calming smoke puff later, the man grabbed her arm, yanked her up with little care for not hurting her and forcing her up onto tip-toes. Mid-hurried-step, he flashed a smirk with a whisper of "oh, and if I'd taken to wishing for any chick, I'd make sure she wasn't as lacking as you in the curves department. You're like uncooked spaghetti, flat and straight all-around."


Weaving his way through the crowd, despite its eagerness to split apart wherever he appeared, it took hardly any time to reach the scorching sun outside and have his bike in view. Had he been Ren, and not in front of a curious crowd, he'd have grinned and skipped like a girl-scout to that motorcycle and stroke it like a kitty and not give a damn about whether or not the petite female he dragged along thought it 'safe' or not. Instead, however, he gave her an almost pouty look, aplogizing with his gaze as he placed the helmet on her head and slipped himself onto that glorious seat. The sound it made when he revved it was like an angelic choir, reminding him just how much he missed riding around on one of these things, breaking traffic rules left, right, and centre and picking up chicks dressed like the one behind him now. "Setsu, d'you want to go to the hotel, now? You can get something to eat there, and they might have a jewelry shop for those earrings of yours."

 

[VaticanCameos]

Setsu sat in silence, lips pursed as she watched Re-Caine take out a cigarette and take a drag. She wasn't in too much of a bad mood about her 'brother' blatantly ignoring her. That was, until he blew the smoke straight in front of her. A small cough passed her frown, and she crossed her arms childishly. And then he called her a baby and treated her like a child and it just annoyed her so much more and yet she couldn't do anything about it because he was supposed to be her brother and just teasing her and she was just supposed to go along with it, but oh how it bugged Setsuka. And he laughed after what he said and it just emphasised how she was supposed to laugh the words off. Instead she just tightened her crossed arms and her frown set on her face as she watched the taller boy in front of her, and let a sigh pass her lips for a fraction of a second.


He almost knocked over his chair as he stood and approached her, and Setsu couldn't help but laugh softly at the wobbling chair. And he watched her, just a bit to perceptively, as if he really had to think about if what he was seeing was real. Well it was, and he had to deal with it. And then he was grabbing her and pulling her up by her arm. It hurt slightly, but Setsu just grit her teeth and dealt with it. He was insulting her again, whispering so just she could hear. Well two could play at that game. "If I'm so lacking." She began whispering back. "Then how come you couldn't stop looking at me, hm?" She raised an eyebrow as if challenging him to reply. That was how she dealt with it, she had decided. Rebuff his insults with insults. Smirk back at him the way he was smirking at her. Just do the same, and pass it off as sibling rivalry and joking. Nobody would question it.


And by the time Setsu had dragged herself out of her thoughts they were next to that bloody bike and he was putting a helmet on her head. But he was being pouty and apologetic and she could see how he loved the bike and she gave in. She sat on the bike behind him, wrapping her arm round his waist and placing her head on his shoulder. "You better get me some nice earrings." She whined childishly as she looked up at him. "Pwease." She added, just adding to the childish aura she released as she half sulked on the back of the bike.

 

[nethereal]

Caine's leather-clad fingers stroked darkly dyed curls, catching at the ends of her hastily brushed tangles, and let pinkish lip-balmed lips linger on her forehead in a soft kiss. The man pulled away slowly, and let his shoulders slump in a show of apology, unfamiliar dark eyes dropping from hers to the gravelly ground beneath his bike tires. "Setsuka," he murmured, seemingly just holding back the sigh that threatened to press past pursed and pouting lips. As a brother, he couldn't help but pity the petite girl's fear, want to embrace her tightly—as the actor behind this whole silly facade, Ren could barely hold back the eye roll and scoff her little childish mispronunciation of 'please' elicited. Alex, if that was this child's name, was surely doing quite the job of playing the pathetic little thing, exactly the kind of person that infuriated him. And annoyingly, with her shorter hair and tight black pants, the young actress looked unnervingly like

Just like—

"You're straight, Setsu, but that doesn't mean you're not cute. You have a pretty face, even if your body's lagging behind; it's good you aren't very curvy, still, or I'd get into too much trouble if anyone thought they had a chance with you." He teased, forcing himself to smirk, as much for their curious audience of chattering girls and boys as well as a sense of odd pride, lest this girl mistake herself as the more dedicated actor. "I'll get you the nicest earrings, everyone you want, and then we can go get a few things at the shop downstairs, I'm thinking maybe we could eat in today. I'm a bit tired." The dark circles lining, though faintly so, a make-up free face that had skimped on this and last week's routine washes seemed to paint his lie as a truth. Tired? No. Having an overwhelming urge to lock himself away from the appraising glances and scarf down some food, having intentionally missed breakfast and lunch, and then sigh himself to sleep? Yes. But was work ever that simple these days? No. Gloved fingers revved the bike gleefully, wriggling himself deeper into the comfortable, leather covered seat, and running his boot up the shiny metal like a tv show seductive woman rubbed her high heel against her victim's leg. His shoe set perfectly onto the silvery surface, as if the motorbike had been crafted carefully to perfectly fit every inch of his physique, and Ren risked a soft purr he was certain not even the thing behind him would hear.

One more puff of smoke, he let it trickle it into the warm air like wispy clouds, and Ren swerved into the busy road and just in front of a car that voiced its discontent with the shrill honking of a horn. He weaved through traffic with dexterity, speeding past a red light and chuckling at the noise of camera flash and the thought of the president frowning at the text message he'd be sent detailing how the bike registered under his name owed some obnoxious amount of money, or at least it had been obnoxious when he was a youth with a measly week's pay from his waitoring days, his excuse for skipping classes: 'making money is more important now, I'll go back to classes once we're steady, dad.'

The hotel building was a fancy, expensive looking mass of grey bricks and fountains and foreigners in shorts and tank tops pointing here and there—a sight he wished he could claim to have seldom seen, but not even he could manage an outright lie such as that, and the whole ensemble seemed to still and pause to stare wide-eyed at the two as he parked his baby haphazardly and hooked his hand in the petite girl's arm, urging her on through the crowd of nervous onlookers and panicky hotel staff. The inside posed the same challenge, and a receptionist that had some trouble believing that his reservation was his, even with the key in his large hands, and that he hadn't stolen it from some poor soul. Took some ten minutes of convincing and glares, and then a minute of elevator riding before Caine found himself unlocking a grand suite that made him even more eager to run away and not look back. Fleeting glances told him what he needed to know, but the former blonde was not the most observative child he knew, so he sought to spell it out for her: "Oh, tch. Spyin' on us, huh? How low of em', you think a hotel would give you enough privacy, but no, they plaster cameras all over. For your sake, let's hope they've left the bathroom to us, hmm, Setsu?" Oh, how he questioned his life choices. Of all the jobs.

"The bed's pretty comfortable." The bed was, indeed, pretty nice, and he found himself snuggling into a pillow after throwing his coat and shirt aside somewhere, the silky sheets carressing his skin nicely. "There's only one, though, so I'll take the couch. It's closer to the fridge and tv, anyway. I wonder if they have any..." Caine forced himself up, scratching at the imaginary dirt on his chest, and wobbled tiredly over to the small white rectangle in the corner, yanking it open impatiently before a grin spread over his lips. "Ah, not quite what I was hoping for, but good enough. Setsu, up for a drink?"
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[VaticanCameos]

There were words she wasn't listening to, and things she probably should have been noting. His comments on her appearance that she didn't really want to listen to, because she was sure they would crush her and she would crumble on the inside. He was great at playing his part, that much was true, as all the men and woman behind them bought the act they were both putting on. And he was complaining HE was tired, when SHE had had to spend a day acting and liking him and being nice and pretending to be close. But he promised he would buy her all the earrings she wanted, and that was enough for her. He would have to buy her things as part of the act, even if secretly he hated her. No worry to her, she wasn't really too bothered anymore on what he thought of her. Or at least, that is what she was telling herself. He was so gleeful over that bike, such fascination and devotion on his face. Like a child in a sweet shop. Kinda hilarious, kinda adorable, yet infuriating at the same time. Caressing the bike as if it was a woman, like that stupid woman back where they had left, the one that had fed up Ren till he almost had a bit of a pudge. Just a bit.


Then on the bike and off. Weaving through traffic. A honk of a horn greeted them almost instantaneously. They didn't have to deal with the traffic reports, so it didn't really bother Setsu. Just the feeling that any moment Ren would crash and kill them. That a driver wouldn't see them and would drive straight into them. That he would misjudge a corner. Something, anything that could happen, she was sure it would. She should have faith in Ren, it seemed like he had been doing it for years before, but she couldn't shake the worry.


And then they got into an argument in the reception. Judgemental receptionist. Judged them on their looks straight away. Didn't believe it was their room. Utter rubbish. Oh well. And then taken to the lift and upstairs. But the room- oh the room. It was lovely. And as soon as they had stepped in "Caine" was being condescending and throwing himself onto the luxurious looking bed. "I'm not an idiot. I think I know when a place has been rigged to spy on us. Le's hope for your sake they haven't rigged the bathroom. No one wants to hear you sing in the shower." She teased as she followed his tired steps over to the fridge.


"No, Caine." Setsu sighed wearily as she perched against a small counter top beside the fridge that he was peering in to. "I have at least some common sense, and since I was sure you were going to get me some earrings and we would go visit the shop." She murmured, shaking her head in a disapproving manner.


"You smoke, ruin your lungs. Drink, damage your liver. Eat too much, start getting a pudge." She began as she crossed her arms across her chest and looked at her so called brother. "I respect my body while you don't with yours." Sensible. She sounded sensible. Mature. Grown up. Right? She hoped so. She didn't want to always be seen as a child by everyone. That was the whole point of why she actually stuck to something she had said for once.


"Maybe one..."