Thread: The Rock Star and the Dancer (Russian Vodka)

Seeing his old ex again, Shiro couldn't believe his eyes. Aside from the older looking face and features, it was their first high school meeting all over again. Everything else didn't matter, the security guards by the fences didn't matter, the fences could disappear and he would've hugged him tight and probably not let go. Yet he realised quickly the pain, the worry in Akira's eyes, as if he was doubting coming there. Shiro froze, trying to comprehend if this was his fault or not. Things seemed to move so fast, yet all in slow motion. Every encounter he'd had with someone else, men, women, they didn't matter. None of them came anywhere close to the passion he sought after, the passion that hadn't left him since high school. His heart was still broken, he had tried piecing it together, mending it with half-hearted sollutions. It was either alcohol or another failed attempt at falling in love with someone else that'd brought him deeper into the devastation over why he couldn't seem to move on. Hey. Shiro managed to reply, trying to cover them so the guards wouldn't get to seperate them. He didn't know what to say first of all, there was so much, and then suddenly Akira spoke, or at least tried. It didn't seem to be more than a few words, before the card was shown, the one from where Akira worked now. Without seeing the name, it looked interesting, fancy. And then the two words. Asking him to call his ex, but without looking him in the eye. Shiro was distressed, trying to figure out a response as he could see some girls in the back trying to get closer, at first thinking it might be crazy fan girls, but then realising they seemed interested in Akira as well. He wanted to say something, to invite them all over. But the car wasn't big enough, and it was only taking them to the hotel. He couldn't bring them all into the room he had. Despite their status, they had rather simple rooms meant for them to relax in. He realised that he had to do somthing the moment Akira's attention disappeared. He looked down, realising he hadn't removed anything since he came out from the stage. And as his lover was turning around, he made up his mind. He still had the card in one hand as he grabbed the sweatband around his free hand, pulling it off, moving halfways past the fence, doing the one thing he had been told not to do, not to move past the barrier and to the fans. But he had to do it as a security guard moved to push him back. Aki! The nickname he'd given his ex was all he could muster before he thrust his hand forward, managing to push it into the palm of his ex's hand. Hold onto it for me! He called out as he was moved back into the middle with the others, his other hand clutching the card with the number written on it. He needed to make the call, to talk with his ex. He needed to find out if they were more or if they could finally get each other the closure they obviously needed. Everything past that happened so fast, blanking out, he didn't remember getting in the car, it was big enough for them all and the manager to sit and look at each other, and he was being scolded for breaking the one security rule they'd been given. Yet it didn't seem to matter, all he could do was stare at the business card, seeing the sign of a girl on a pole below the name, and then the number as the band was taken to the hotel for their final night's rest.