Glitz and Glamour

The cold and callous Kimijima Ikuto wasn't always as manipulative and conniving as he presented himself to be. As a young boy, his unusually striking platinum blonde locks and sharp hazel eyes drew a lot of attention from others. Coupled with narcissistic, money-hungry parents, Kimijima found himself tangled up in the world of show-business as a young actor. He made his debut at the young age of eight and slowly lost himself to the fake persona everyone wanted him to be. The training was brutal and he pushed himself to get better and better every day. Now, at seventeen, the person he sees in the mirror is nothing like how he had imagined himself to be. He was beautiful and he knew exactly how to exploit his appeal to get what he wanted. His silver tongue could get him anything he wanted and could convince the most loyal of friends to turn on each other. He was a master at negotiations no matter what the stakes. The world was his to play around with, so why wasn't he happy?

Every interview, every commercial, every photoshoot, every role, every song, every game. All of it reminded him of an angel he once met with a voice gifted to her by God Himself. Someone who had everything he wanted but couldn't have. She had a natural-born gift. She willingly chose what she wanted to do with her life. She never stood out from the crowd when she entered a room. No heads would ever turn her way unless she was singing. She was kind to everyone and soft-spoken. The cruel world had yet to destroy the threads that held together.

The two young entertainers first met when they were just shy of their tenth birthdays. They were extras on a crime show where the two murder victims were young children. During their brief intermissions between scenes and wardrobe changes, the two struggled to make any sort of conversation with each other. The only words they managed to exchange regarded their names.

"May I call you Ikuto-kun?" the petite girl asked innocently.

"Only if I may call you ," he replied slyly.

The two would end up working together more and more due to a lack of actors their age, only he would end up in more prominent and main roles while she remained as background characters. She still never stood out or stole the spotlight away from him at all. She was the perfect shadow to complement his light. Despite all the time they spent on set with each other, they rarely spoke outside of their roles. Neither of them knew any more about each other than their names.

Kimijima's sudden voice change at the age of twelve prompted his overbearing mother to enroll him in voice lessons to improve his vocal range when singing. Now that he was beginning to change from a treble to a baritone, it was crucial that he could remain in-key at any given moment. When he finished with his lessons for the day but had to wait for someone to pick him up, he would follow the melody of a lone baby grand piano or acoustic guitar and listen to it. The person was always playing the same tune over and over again that evoked the imagery of a cold and snowy city street with a lone person trudging through it, shivering. He would sit quietly beside the door to the room, listening to the alluring notes paint a scene of frustrating isolation in his mind.

On one overcast day, Kimijima did not hear the sound of the ivory keys nor the resonance of rosewood. Instead, there was a lone voice that ensnared him with the same tune of isolation the piano would play, only more resonant. For once, he decided to enter the room to confront the mysterious musician that was able to evoke a feeling he had never experienced before.

As he entered the room, the singer was nearing the end of the pre chorus. "Do you really want to turn your life around again? You know you're my last chance..."

He was surprised to see that it was the same girl he had seen around the industry. There was a heavenly glow casted on her from the sunlight through the window in the ceiling. His sudden appearance startled her before she could begin the chorus.

"I was wondering when you would finally come in," she smiled.

"I had to see if you were an angel or human," he chuckled. "This is the first time I've heard the lyrics."

She tried to hide her blush behind the shawl that was draped over her shoulders. "How long have you been on the other side of the door, Ikuto-kun?"

"Since I started coming here for lessons." He walked up towards the piano in the room and rang his slender fingers across the keys. "May I accompany you?"

looked at him, puzzled. "The song's not even finished. How can you play without knowing the rest of it?"

Kimijima took a seat on the bench and stretched out his hands. "Sing what you want to. I will match your feelings."

"If that's the case," she walked over to a guitar case and pulled out an intricately carved guitar and swung the strap over her neck, "I want to hear the piece with this as well."

He nodded as he turned his attention to the keys in front of him. The instant he pressed down on the first note, he could feel himself be enveloped in the strange loneliness that he experienced from just listening. The feeling was more intense and, yet, he found his fingers moving across the keys and playing the alluring tune as strummed her guitar to his timing.

"It's a little cold in paradise tonight... Love faded..."

The beauty of music slowly enveloped the two young entertainers as they rode their emotions to the end of the melody. They found that the notes they needed came naturally and flowed with her lyrics to finish the painting of a lone girl caught in the middle of a blizzard. When the notes would no longer come, the two stared at each other in awe of what they just did.

Kimijima broke the blissful silence. "What do you call this?"

"The Loneliest Girl," she answered.

"Fitting," he remarked.

"It's my dream for the world to hear this song one day," she admitted. "It'll be another two years before I can make my debut as a musician, though."

"Why is that?"

"My acting contract ends in two years. I'm sure you understand the pain of contracts as well, Ikuto-kun."

Kimijima sighed as a small smile grew on his face. "Yes, they are rather boorish."

"What do you dream about?"

"Me?" He wasn't sure how to answer this question, seeing as he never had the chance to sit down and think about his aspirations in life.

"Don't tell me you plan on acting forever," she huffed.

"And if I do?"

"Expand your horizons. You can do so much more than just act."

Kimijima decided to heed her words and take up tennis when he could afford the time between his contractual obligations and school. It was the beginning of a very fruitful athletic career, though he was unaware of how big of a role it would play in his life.

was just a month shy of finishing her contract when she first coughed up blood on her way to another shoot. There was barely anything red and she thought nothing of it. As the week progressed and the autumn winds grew harsher, the violent coughing fits were more frequent. She was eventually rushed to the hospital when she spat up a lot of red sputum all over the white dress shirt of the director and collapsed on the ground. Her life shattered the moment she passed through those sterile hallways towards the imaging room.

Kimijima came to visit her with his tennis bag slung over his left shoulder and his right arm carrying a bouquet of white hyacinths. She looked as if someone had clipped her wings, but she smiled at him as he arranged the flowers in the vase by her bedside. When he finished, he pulled a chair from the side of the room and placed it beside her. He let his heavy bag drop to the floor as he took a seat.

"Do they really have to remove your vocal chords?" he asked her.

The devastation in her eyes never faded from the day she found out. "It's the only way to stop the spread."

"And if you don't?"

"Then, I will die."

The amount of information to process was overwhelming. He had nothing else to say to her. She could see how lost he was in his eyes.

"Can you feel my, can you feel my, can you feel my tears? They won't dry..."

Even grounded, Kimijima could see her last ditch effort to soar again. Even though it pained her greatly, continued to sing the rest of the chorus.

"Can you feel my, can you feel my teardrops of the loneliest girl?"

Another violent coughing fit occurred and Kimijima immediately jumped up, grabbed her cup of water and helped her pour it down the hatch. Once it subsided, a single tear fell from her tired eyes.

"The loneliest girl..." she finished the chorus, voice now raspy and war-torn.

It was the last time she ever sang.

Hours before she was scheduled to have her surgery, and Kimijima were waiting down in the perioperative area. Her voice had been reduced to nothing more than a painfully swollen sound.

"Ikuto-kun, I like you," she managed to say in her pained state.

He immediately tried to stop her from speaking so that she would not feel any more discomfort than she already was in.

"This is my last chance to tell you," she smiled. "I like you."

He was a skilled enough actor by that point that he felt obligated to start crying on cue. He had also been in many roles where he was confessed to and knew he was supposed to say something back. Kimijima wasn't even sure if he even had a genuine interest in the girl. Instead, he just reached out and held her hand.

"Ikuto-kun?"

"Don't say such things, . It's too soon to be thinking like that."

"Do you not believe me?"

", please stop stressing yourself," he pleaded. "I don't want to see you in pain."

She smiled weakly as she sank back into her uncomfortable bed and closed her eyes. Kimijima squeezed her hand harder.

"You have to believe in yourself. That you'll make it out of this," he tried to reassure her.

"Who knows what will happen?" she wondered. "Maybe they'll find a way to give me back my voice."

"..."

She made a painfully swollen sound as she looked like she was chuckling to herself. This only deepened his frown and concern.

"Get some rest while you can," he told her.

She nodded at him and mouthed 'thanks' at him before slowly allowing herself to drift off. Kimijima did not let go of her hand. Only when he was sure that she was asleep did he loosen his grip.

He was long gone by the time she got out of the surgery. When she did wake up, Kimijima had no time to be relieved, as he was selected for the country's U-17 tennis team.

It would be several months before he was able to see her again. She was on a set for a new commercial he was starring in. had grown considerably thinner, but was otherwise the same person if he didn't look into her empty, somber eyes. Communication with her consisted of interpreting signs, reading her lips or waiting for her to write down what she wanted to say on paper or her phone screen. It was a struggle for many, but Kimijima found it surprisingly easy to understand her thanks to his sharp vision and ability to read subtleties in people's behaviours. When they were finished for the day, the two took a taxi to a cafe in the middle of downtown to catch up. He noticed her disposition change considerably when they were alone with each other, though the sadness remained. She seemed happy to finally see him after so long.

'How was France?' she had written down in her tiny notebook.

"Eventful," he answered. "The world is filled with extremely strong players."

She gave him a confused look. He was concerned about the amount of honey she was putting into her piping hot spearmint tea.

"Do you wish to know what I have been up to?" he asked.

The girl nodded as she took a tiny sip of her drink. There was a twinkle in her eyes as she eagerly awaited his retelling of events.

He crossed his arms, closing himself off to her. "The French team was something else. Demons, even. I got paired up with this person by the name of Toono Atsukyou. He's quite violent and has a lust for bloodshed. Training is difficult, but that's to be expected."

There was a sliver of disappointment where the twinkle once was. She set her cup down and started writing something down. He waited patiently for her to finish.

There were many crossed-out lines before she settled on one. 'You never said anything when you left.'

"It was urgent. Camp's quite strict with outside communication," he brushed off.

She dropped her pen on the ground. He bent down to pick it up for her. When he handed it over, she was lost in nostalgia.

"?"

"You've changed," she mouthed.

He mimicked the same lip movements to try and piece together what she was saying. "I don't believe I have," he disagreed.

She shook her head. "I liked the old 'you' better."

"The 'old' me? What even changed?"

She scribbled something in her notebook once again. 'The industry got to you.'

He had no idea what she meant by that as he took out his phone to check his notifications. There was nothing but endless texts from his agent and spam messages from a group chat with some of the boys he played tennis with. Without even a sigh, he sent back replies at lightning speed, further deepening his companion's frown.

"My apologies—it was urgent."

She didn't know what to do in response, even though he looked like he wanted her to say something.

"?"

She felt a lump in her throat—the first time since her surgery. Her hand was trembling, unable to write anything down. Her lips were quivering, which Kimijima mistook as her trying to mouth something.

"I'm not sure what you're trying to say," he admitted.

All she could do was smile painfully and mouth "I have to go" to him before hastily standing up and making her unceremonious exit. The unfinished tea slowly dissipated its heat as it continued to sit on the tabletop, untouched. Kimijima wondered what was wrong, but shook it off and finished his drink before following suit.

The boy had practically become a revered deity by the time they crossed paths once again. Idol status before the age of 16 really changes a person. The endless brand deals, widely successful skincare line, dozens of acting roles and modeling gigs propelled him into an elite level of stardom that most celebrities wished they were able to achieve.

But her? She was left in the dust; her only asset robbed from her by a cruel mistress known as fate. Her beauty was too average for the industry. Not having her own voice made it all the more impossible for her to shine on stage. Even so, she never gave up hope that she could regain her voice once again. She kept refining The Loneliest Girl in hopes of being able to sing it again.

Kimijima wasn't sure why it caused him discomfort to see try so desperately to play this song. She was never going to speak, let alone sing again. And yet, she was always in the studio, strumming her decaying acoustic guitar, or playing the out-of-tuned baby grand. She continued to scratch up and rewrite the sheet music for that same song. She cried in frustrating silence when nothing seemed to work.

He realized that the song just wasn't meant to be an instrumental-only piece. The beauty of the song came from the lyrics. Someone had to sing them and he decided it was him who would. He proposed the song to his agent. Within a month, he was in the recording studio. Another month later, the song was released to the public. It soared to the top of the charts within hours.

felt numb after listening to it. Objectively speaking, the song was well produced. But, those were her chord progressions, her riffs, her scales. Those were her words to say; her story to tell; her song to sing. All of it taken without her even knowing and used by someone she thought she could call a friend. Someone she was hopelessly in love with once upon a time.

Kimijima couldn't understand why she was so upset. This was what she wanted—for people to listen to her song. It wasn't like she had the voice to do it anymore. He saw the beauty in what he considered to be a "perfect" song and he had to preserve that beauty at all costs. But that wasn't how she saw it and it was even harder for her to express that to him.

"The world deserved to hear your song as it was intended, . What don't you understand about that?"

All she could do was shake her head in frustration as her eyes welled up. "I never wanted this."

Things he used to understand without a second thought were now a struggle to piece together. His growing annoyance at having to expend energy and thought into interpreting 's lip flaps only made things worse.

"I did this for you."

She mouthed the same response that he couldn't interpret. "I never wanted this."

"I wish you could just tell me what you wanted," he groaned. "I am becoming rather exhausted trying to understand you."

Their fight ended there when stormed away. Kimijima tried to talk with her about it, but she refused to engage. All of his attempts to smooth talk or negotiate with her failed rather spectacularly. Eventually, what was left of their relationship had faded away into obscurity, himself being deluded by fame. They hadn't spoken since.

He wasn't expecting to see her again—especially at the World Cup two years later. Their eyes met just as the match began. She was holding onto a French flag. He fumbled throughout the match. She watched him lose against France. His pride was mortally wounded. Toono forgave him. Their eyes met once again. She smiled sadly at him. He hated that feeling of pity.

After he had wrapped his post-match ritual, Kimijima found himself facing again—standing mere inches away from each other. She waved at him.

", it has been a while," he started off.

"Likewise," she mouthed. "You look well."

"Thank you," he answered.

Deep inside him, that small sliver of guilt over what he did started to eat at him again. They looked at each other in silence, but it wasn't long before someone came looking for .

"Ma reine? Qu'est-ce que vous faites ici?"

Kimijima looked up and saw one of the two men that defeated him just a few moments prior on the court, Timothée Moreau. turned to address him and began signing something back to him.

"Ah, d'accord," Timothée responded to her. "Monsieur Kimijima, it was quite the formidable match, non?"

He had to put on his best smiling façade to hide his raging bitterness. "Of course. I quite enjoyed it."

Timothée turned his attention back to , whispered something into her ear before kissing the back of her hand and walking away from the two, leaving them alone again.

"Ah, you were here for him," he realized.

She nodded. "But, also you."

"Me?" he questioned as he raised his eyebrow.

She coughed gently, as if she was clearing out her throat. She breathed in through her nose before exhaling it slowly. Finally, she opened her mouth as a sound from her throat reverbed itself out.

"It was my story to tell," was the tiny, almost inaudible squeak that came from her strained vocal chords.

There was a glimmer of light when she spoke. He felt like he was witnessing the angel he once saw spread her wings again. It made his chest flutter—a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Ah... I see," was his tepid response. "Is that all?"

frowned slightly before nodding.

"Then, I believe we have nothing further to discuss," Kimijima concluded.

She waved at him before leaving to follow the French rep that had just walked away. Kimijima continued to watch as she shrinked into a smaller and smaller dot the further she got away from him.

"Did I make a grave mistake?" he thought out loud. A smirk grew on his face as he chuckled at how absurd that thought was. The tingle in his chest suddenly turned into an ache he did not like.

Of course he did, but it was too late to fix any of it now.