Description: Things are getting steamy in the CYS hotel room - or at least, one of the members of CYS is, anyway. Looking to simmer down, the band goes to enjoy some dinner at a local noodle bar. Yashiro finds the night rather inspiring, and like any good show, things end on a high note.
It's sunset in Southtown.
Fading sunlight streams in through the glass balcony doors of one of the Deluxe Studios of the Red Dragon Hotel, bathing the neat white and grey sheets and pale walls in a yellow-orange glow. It's a tranquil evening, high above the dwindling rush hour traffic and the emergent nightlife.
As he straightens the heart choker wrapped around his sculpted neck, Yashiro Nanakase stares at his own reflection in the mirror, his lips pressed together. He tilts his head at various angles, admiring his chiselled jaw, smooth brow and short, shock white hair. For a moment, he can't seem to help but grin at his own masculine beauty, a predatory gleam glinting off his white teeth.
Then, suddenly, the grin fades into a contemptuous scowl, his hulking biceps swell with tension, his fingers clench into fists, and, with thunderous force, he drives his right hand into the mirror.
The tinkling of spiderweb cracks rapidly cascading up and down the floor-length wall mirror fills the room, only to be broken by Yashiro's own bellowing voice, audible throughout the sixth floor on which the hotel room resides.
While waiting for his two buddies to be ready, Yea, you can call a female friend a buddy too, get educated, Chris is doing some stretching and exercises. Gotta keep ready for fighting. It's not that he was fighting all the time, but there was part of him that wouldn't mind shattering some skulls everyday. It's ok, all is under control.
Then there is this scream, Yashiro wants to talk to Shermie apparently. Chris knows that full well, but he stops what he is doing and peeks his brown haired head in the room, Yashiro is in. With an innocent smile, he says. "You called for me, or you were just testing your voice trying to be the next singer?" He keeps the sweet smiles, and doesn't get in the room proper, only his head still.
"Your redhead is here, handsome man!"
The bathroom door is thrown back dramatically, as Shermie emerges from behind it. She starts to sashay across the room, towards her bandmates, swinging her hips from side to side, in a way that manages to appear both sexy and stylish. At least until...SMACK! Down the French woman goes, landing flat on her heart shaped face, with her backside in the air, in a most undignified fashion.
"Putain de Merde!" she curses, in her native tongue, smacking the floor angrily, as if it was all down to its existence, rather than her insistence on wearing her hair cut in bangs, that completely osbscure her eyes.
Dusting herself off and trying to recover her dignity, she returns to her feet, that are currently clad in some rather fetching looking fur trimmed boots.
"Do you both love my outfit, boys?" she asks, her cheerful tone suggesting she's already over her fall.
"I created it myself just this week, perhaps for a show, or a fight, or maybe both!"
The outfit in question consists of a very racy looking tight black leather mini dress. It's a rather complex design featuring interlocking strings, that only barely conceal her considerable curves.
"I have another part too!" she enthuses, slipping into a dusky pink cropped jacket, that's finished with the same pale pink fur as her boots.
Moving over to the mirror, to admire her ensemble, she makes a tutting sound, as she spies the cracks.
"Another mirror destroyed, Yashiro? This is becoming a most unfortunate habit. Do we have to get you some emergency noodles?"
When the others walk in, Yashiro's fist remains embedded in the wall, arm fully extended, shards of glass and plaster crumbling away as his musclebound body shudders with rage, bared chest heaving with each breath like a bull seeing red. His expression becomes one of bewilderment when Chris appears, one eyebrow raising and teeth remaining bared with seething mania.
"Chris?! What are you smiling about?! Can't you see that REDHEAD has ruined EVERY--"
'Your redhead is here, handsome man!'
Yashiro's neck pops, along with the leather band around it, as he turns his wild-eyed glare toward his French bandmate.
"You KNOW you're not the redhead that I'm talking about, Shermie - ??!"
Yashiro cuts himself short, turning to face toward the fallen fashionista as she winds up face-down ass-up on the carpet. His expression becomes momentarily dumbfounded, mouth gaping open as his mind takes a hard swerve across an intersection into a completely different lane. He pulls his fist away from the cracked mirror, dusting away the bits of debris from his gloved knuckles as his body starts to shudder again - this time, though, with laughter, an amused smirk on his features.
"...Cute! You don't have to show off like that just to cheer me up, Shermie, but it works! Nice acting on the trip, too!"
He winks with a knowing look at the twin-tailed lady, looking her up and down at her invitation for admiration and nodding with approval.
"Looking good, babe! Summertime or not... I like your fall fashion!"
The white-haired band leader's jovial mirth seems less at the expense of Shermie and more out of fond warmth toward the long-banged lass. Stepping up beside her, he puts an arm around her shoulders in a show of affectionate companionship, then turns his head toward Chris with a look of icy-hot self-assurance.
"What do you say, little bro? Wanna get some noodles?"
He nods his head, "I know he ruined everything, we will do something about it, so that you can do what you have to do." He doesn't expend on what he was smiling about, especially since Shermie comes in.
He seems to be about to say something, but then she falls down her ass in the air, and he swallows hard. He's a teenager with hormones, even if he is mature, and doesn't usually see Shermie that way, and the way she said that French curse... At least he thinks it's French.
Looking great Shermie, you really know how to wear what you make.
With that, he things of unarousing things, to get something down, but keep his spirit up, life is great.
He follows the conversation, until Yashiro asks him something. He was back to his self-assured self, which was good. "Yes, I need food, I am not done growing. Lets. There again he smiles. Maybe he smiled too much, but the face of an innocent angel, that's what he has, just not exactly who he is, not completely.
A sly grin appears on Shermie's small, but perfectly formed mouth, as Yashiro pulls her up, on claiming to be the redhead in question. It seems she was indeed fully aware he didn't mean her.
"Ah, but who wants to talk about him?" she murmurs.
"This is not a time for anger, or discussing inferior redheads. This is a time for fun! What do you say, my cute little Chrissy?"
She smiles warmly at the teenage boy, apparently oblivious to any impure thoughts he was having about her and then leans into the tall, white haired man, as he drapes his muscular arm around her.
"Yes, my fall fashion is flawless, just like every other season! Now, if we are to go for noodles, I need to say goodbye to my little darlings!" she announces, making her way to the double bed closest to the window and bending down next to it. Placed on the floor is a cage designed for small animals, which is currently hosting two adorable looking hamsters.
Opening the sturdy clasp, she takes them out, one at a time and kisses them lightly on their furry heads.
"Au Revoir, Achu! Bonsoir, Ururi! I will be with you again soon." The cute creatures are then placed carefully back in the cage, where to Shermie's delight, they seem to cuddle up together.
Tugging at his red leather jacket, then pressing his black-gloved hands into each other, Yashiro grins, his mood apparently lifted by the plan for the evening meal (not to mention Shermie's new dress). He nods at Chris in response to his assent, then watches as Shermie kisses her hamsters.
"Mmm... I'm hungry enough to eat a hamster..."
Rockstars are known for eating hamsters, after all.
"...but I'd rather have some Chinese! Haha! I can practically taste those noodles already!"
He pumps his fists triumphantly at his sides before throwing his arms around his compatriots.
==*== TWENTY MINUTES LATER ==*==
"I can hardly even TASTE these noodles!!"
Yashiro slams his fist down on the tabletop, causing a clatter of the dishes on the party of three's table in the Chinese restaurant that the trio are sitting in and drawing worried glances from all corners of the room. The guitarist is heated again, steaming hotter than the fresh bowl of noodles that he's already twirling another mouthful of around his chopsticks.
"I can't even have a defent bowl of noodlef finfe dat wedheaded BAFTARD wuined evewyfing!" Yashiro bellows in lament as he chews on his fresh mouthful, before chasing them with a swig from his glass of beer.
The supposed lack of flavour doesn't stop the man from stuffing more of the noodles into his pie hole, though.
Chris nods "I agree with the good redhead" He smiles, that damn too good of a smile, no 14 years old should have such a smile, and innocence in his face. "Let have fun, with noodles" Pronounces it in such a way one would know he said noodles, but it would almost sound like nudes, but he couldn't say that, he's too innocent.
==*== TWENTY ONE MINUTE LATER, BECAUSE YASHIRO EXACTLY TOOK 1 MINUTE TO TALK ABOUT THE NOODLES ==*=== He was eating his own noodles, with much more moderated portions each time. In betwen two bites "Bro, nobody wants to see the content of your mouth while you're eating." Was it a nice way to say to shut up... nan couldn't be right? He looks up at Shermie for some help "I mean gotta leave some mysteries for the fans." He continues to eat, the food feeling good. Any food, at any time would feel good. He also takes his soda, no beer for him. There was no way he could try to pass for 18. Though where they currently were, he could actually buy it and drink it in secret, but nan, he was good.
"Mon cheri, you are becoming obsessed" Shermie chides Yashiro, as she sucks happily on her own noodles.
"The confusion happened months ago and it is still on your mind, no? You need a new hobby or something. Perhaps we can watch some French films together some time."
Tilting her head towards Chris, she gives him a beaming smile.
"You are growing up now, Chrissy. Perhaps it is time you have a girlfriend, like that waitress over there. Of course she is nowhere near as charming or alluring as me, but being second best is not such a bad thing."
She dabs at her mouth delicately, leaving a faint trace of coral coloured lipstick on her napkin.
"Everyone here but us is wearing some pretty weird clothes. I would love to dress them up myself. They could look so much better, with the help of my talent!"
Having washed down the noodles with alcohol, Yashiro sits back and wipes the back of his hand across his lips, shoulders hunched.
"Come on, little buddy! You know I don't give a crap about what any of these losers think!"
As if to establish his point, though truthfully a consequence of his stressed-out eating and drinking, a gurgling rumble escapes his gut as a rumbling belch.
"See? That's what the ladies like!"
He leans back in his chair, flexing and stretching at the same time and looking askance at a group of women sitting in a nearby booth, who exchange uncertain expressions at Yashiro's flaunting. He turns his eyes to the redhead that -doesn't- set his blood boiling - at least, not in the same sense that his nemesis does.
The muscular musician frowns a little at Shermie's insistence that he get a hobby - and her suggestion.
"French films, huh?"
He looks dubious, but after a moment his expression perks up.
"Hey, those have a lot of hot French women with their clothes off, don't they?"
The doubtful look is replaced with a thoughtful one.
"Hey, if you wanna tell these losers how to dress, go ahead! Just don't forget, smashing our next show is the most important thing!"
He slowly but surely gets through his noodles listening to the conversation, answering when he should, a little offended with the constant little. He's not so little. He makes a brief face, but says nothing about that. "I stand corrected. You're the master of seduction." He gives his thumb up, as he keeps eating
He then ponders Shermie's even glancing at the waitress briefly. Cute, nothing super special. "I don't need to take the first girl I see." But he looks again at the waitress, as if he's interested, but he's imagining his hands around her, neck, squeezing. He stays fixated a moment on her, but then shakes his head. "I will find someone."
He keeps eating, always speaking in between. "There's no way we won't smash our next show. We're the best." Another thumbs up, and soon, the noodles are done for.
"I think you're an uncouth brute" is Shermie's response, to Yashiro's windy display. The amused expression on her face suggests she is far from truly offended however.
"It is correct that French films often have naked women in, yes. There is no reason to be shy about the human body, it is a beautiful thing. Especially mine."
To demonstrate the point, she leans forward on the table, giving both her dining companions, a clear view of her ample cleavage.
"Don't you worry about my performance at our next show. I will be sure to give it my all and if I miss a note, then my new outfit will distract them!"
"Besides, we have Chrissy and his wonderful vocals! He will make all the young girls scream."
Thankfully she's not able to see into the teenage boy's mind and witness the dark thoughts he's having about the poor waitress.
"It is good one so young has such confidence. It's a very positive thing for our band."
As the other two talk, Yashiro returns to stuffing his mouth with noodles, slurping noisily. As much as his raging fits about a certain redhead may ruin the flavour of his food, it nevertheless works up an appetite - as does the time that he spends working out.
"That's the spirit, bud. Keep it up, and one day, you'll be able to get all the groupies you want."
Not that Yashiro is prone to such predilections - the only rival for his self-directed affections is sitting across from him at the table - and currently offering a view that's highly competitive with his own reflection. He takes a moment to admire the thought-provoking display.
"You got that right, Shermie. Maybe we can watch some French films after all, after Chris's bedtime..."
Yashiro drains the rest of his beer glass, letting out a contented sigh as he sits back.
"Chris's singing is great. My lyrics are great. Your outfits are great. You know what's not great?"
Yashiro's scowl returns as he swipes his empty glass off of the table.
"Jazz! I don't GET it!"
Yashiro pounds the table once more with his fist as the waitress scrambles to clean up the mess that he's made with the glass.
"How does a damn JAZZ band sell tickets better than US?!"
Chris smiles again. "I already have a lot of groupies, because my voice, and how you two play. We're a team, always will be." He seems to be sincere, why wouldn't he be.
When there's the view of Shermie's best assets, his eyes wanders there a moment. He knew the limits not to cross, but that wasn't one. "When you got your assets, you can be proud of them." He agrees with her, before moving on to other things. Yes he can take his eyes off of them.
He then turns his attention to Yashiro. "I can handle natural French ladies better than you. Of course there's the fur, you know." He finishes his soda now, and he tries to stiffle a laugh when Yashiro goes on a Jazz tirade. "Jazz is only popular to bother you." He can't help but chuckle a bit. "We can kick their asses, if there is ever a band fighting tournament."
Shermie sips from her glass of French Pinot Grigio, savouring the fresh and fruity taste.
"Yes, I have many French films on my laptop, that I would be happy to share with you, Yashiro. You may watch them with me, if you are careful not to disturb Chrissy's sleep."
"Perhaps this will help you chill out somewhat and stop thinking about jazz music. In answer to your question though, I believe it may be because, Iori is so hand..."
She stops herself mid sentence, fully aware of the explosion she could trigger, if she were to complete it as originally intended.
"So hands on with his publicity! He's so terrible and fame hungry! Don't you worry, boys. We will make our next show more successful than anything that awful man is involved in."
Phew, it seems she got away with it this time and even better, she threw in some insults about Iori. That should please Yashiro, or possibly wind him up further.
"You be careful with those groupies" she warns Chris. "You don't know where some of them have been." As the boy mentions fur, she fingers the cuffs of her jacket.
"Yes, if the worst comes to the worst, we can kick their bottoms! Rockstars are tougher than jazz players."
"Hey, what are you tryin' to say, Chris? I can handle a natural French lady just fine! Even if she does look good in fur!" Yashiro says as he eyes the younger male member of the group sidelong before shifting his eyes to Shermie and her new outfit.
"So, you're saying that we should be more hands-on with our publicity, huh...?"
Yashiro grins as he looks across the table at Shermie, cracking his knuckles.
"I like the way you think, sweet cheeks!"
==*== SEVERAL MINUTES LATER ==*==
A red-orange glow lights the street as Yashiro slaps a poster onto a lamp post and quickly seals it on with tape. The poster depicts the faces of the three band members in black and white, with the letters 'C Y S' over their respective portraits, and beseeches readers to check out their website, listen to their singles online, and vote them into an upcoming battle of the bands.
Meanwhile, sirens can be heard approaching in the distance as the Chinese restaurant blazes in the night, the patrons having already fled. A crowd is starting to gather to observe the fire from a safe distance in terrified wonder.
"Can't miss it, can they? Ha ha ha! This was a great idea, Shermie!"
Whatever Yashiro was thinking, it ought to be entertaining, now was Shermie thinking the same thing... That was open for a debated. He would have to see.
When they are outside, he's quiet. He's not quiet because he disapprove. He's quiet because he loves that idea a lot, but he can't voice it as such. But finally after what seems like a long moment he does speak. "You certainly can't miss it. If only the fire could have spelled CYS." Or if someone would have burn in there. It would... something. "Was that what you had in mind Shermie?" He finally ask the girl of the group. He turns one more time to see the orange glow, before he lets it out of his mind. "Is this going to become a trademark of ours?" That made him think even more.
"This isn't quite what I had in mind, no" Shermie sighs, as she responds to the youngest band member's question.
Still sipping from her wine glass, as she stands on the street, she watches the fire truck pull up outside the restaurant.
"At least the firefighters are handsome though. Perhaps I will put them on my list."
"We also look good on the poster. Overall, it is not a terrible situation."
She places her empty glass down on the sidewalk and then moves over to Yashiro and Chris, linking arms with them both.
"Let us return to the hotel. It is past Chrissy's bedtime and my hamsters will be hungry. Once that is dealt with, then perhaps we can see about one of those movies."
Log created on 17:45:46 07/03/2021 by Yashiro, and last modified on 23:03:21 07/03/2021.