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My Darling Please	By : Kryhs Category: J-Rock/J-Pop & K-Pop > Miyavi Views: 1171 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Miyavi. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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He smiled brilliantly and shook your hand, "Miyavi." You had heard of him from some of the girls from your college, every single one of them had a female erection for him. You didn't exactly see why. All he was a man in women's clothing wearing make up with a really snazzy hair style and a pretty voice. Suddenly you felt as if he was staring right through you and...was he looking at your breasts? When he let go of your hand you immediately and discretely covered yourself by crossing your arms over your chest and then uncovered them just as quickly because you realized it only enhanced the damn things.

"Miyavi..." said Sugiyama-san in a warning tone. She looked at him over the tops of her glasses like a stern aunt would look at her troublesome nephew.

"Yeeesss?" he said with the sweetest expression on his face. Sugiyama-san gave him a cross look and then they launched into a discussion of his plans for the afternoon. Tuning them out you began to formulate your own explanation for the highly expressive Miyavi standing in front of you. His long hair was pulled up into a ponytail on top of his head and pulled through the back of a black and orange trucker's hat. You had seen more intense looking people walk the streets of the city when you ventured out every once and a while, but what baffled you about the man in front of you was the fact that he wore his elaborate clothing so confidently. A baggy black tank top with bright green and pink swirls interlocked all over the fabric, his pants a dark green army material with another layer hanging around them like a color clashed haori. Corroded black boots adorned his feet. He also wore what looked like a big tie-dyed kimono that hung loose around his shoulders and chest but tied tightly around his waist. The smallest part of his "look" was the nose ring and the spider bite on the right side of his mouth, but without them Miyavi just wouldn't be Miyavi.

Overall, He seemed like a very happy person, but also one of those people who had more to them than what was on the surface; something deeper than what they let others see in public. Your little brother liked to refer to those kind of people as the "Onion People": people who have many unpleasant layers to them that they kept under wraps. Smart little bugger, that brother of yours. Needless to say, everything about Miyavi screamed "Walking Enigma", which is exactly why you were intrigued in the first place. But this was more of a "What is that?" feeling, not so much a "Boy, I sure do want some 'Yavi, mm-hmm" like most of the women in his life that you would meet later on.

As the conversation between Artist and Assistant continued on you noticed that the photographer was flipping through the shots he had taken with two of his crew members. A woman with grey lightning bolts in her hair sat in front of the lap top connected to his camera while another young man with eyes set very far apart crouched next to her, the photographer peering over her shoulder as the three of them discussed which photographs to keep and which to scrap. You took a few tentative steps towards them and craned your neck to get a better look at the screen. There was Miyavi posing in all his drag queen-ish glory. After fighting back the urge to laugh you took a closer look and noticed that there was a poetic aspect to all this bright flamboyancy.

"Would you like a closer look?" asked a voice that startled you. You turned your focus away from the screen and onto the photographer who smiled behind his bushy mustache and matching eyebrows. You blushed slightly and nodded.

"Yes, please. I'd like that very much."

"Come here," he said making room for you behind the lightning haired woman. As they continued talking about the angles of the musicians face and lighting and artistic or even just plain cool look to each photo you listened and studied with interest. It seemed as if this normal person you had just met had turned into pure passion caught on film. Every inch of his persona, even his eyes seemed to draw a person in. It was confidence to a point of arrogance, the "I'm-a-badass" attitude just shone from every angle of his body and face. Even his lips seemed to form the slightest smirk no matter what position they were in. How could someone exude so much self exaltation and gratification? It baffled you how this man whom you didn't even know could have such high self esteem, when you had been trying for years to achieve this inside of your own mind and heart. Obviously your attempts were unsuccessful, other wise Miyu probably would have been just another face in your life and not the girl who landed you and internship by way of miracle. In your own mind it felt a little unfair that a complete stranger had that which you didn't, and it made you want it all the more. You must have been thinking very hard because the photographer asked you if something was wrong.

"Oh," you laughed and waved his concern away with a hand, "Don't mind me I'm still adjusting to the business. It's my first day as an intern." After explaining yourself the photographer and his two minions smiled and congratulated you then gave you a card saying if you or the company was ever in need of their help to just call them up. Yeah, for what price though?, you thought a little bitterly, "Okay, thanks a lot!"

"Karisu-chan!" God damn it...

You quirked an eyebrow and looked behind you. Sugiyama-san was calling you over to her and Miyavi was waving at you from behind her. It was obviously time to go. You turned towards the photographer and his co-workers and nodded at them, "Thank you, I really enjoyed looking at your work. It's very good."

"If you liked that you should take a look at my less main stream photos on my website. It's all on the card."

"I will," you turned to leave and called back over your shoulder, "Thanks again!" The first half of the drive home was spent in silent contemplation of your own life, even though the time and place was completely wrong for it. Maybe it was time for you to get out of whatever stage it was that you were in and join the world of people in the club of society. Miyu was a regular there and she seemed to be doing just fine. Now that you thought about it: what the hell was wrong with you? It was like you were still in grade school! Because you had a few bad experiences you decided not to try any longer? How childish, you were about to graduate from college, get your head out of your ass!

"Hey! He-row?" something called from the front seat. You looked up to see Miyavi staring at you over a pair of large sunglasses. He looked in the direction that you had been staring and smirked, "Floor's that interesting, huh?"

You blushed a light pink color and mumbled, "I was just thinking about...stuff..."

"Stuff, huh? That's-uh...that's really deep..."

"Miyavi, be nice," Sugiyama-san interjected. She looked at you in the rear view mirror, "Don't listen to him, he just likes teasing new people."

"No, I like fucking with their minds and making them never come back," he replied proudly.

You snorted, "Good luck getting away with that crap around me," you said finding the street scenery suddenly interesting.

He turned towards you again, a defiant and challenging look now dancing in his eyes, "Are you challenging me, Kris-sama?"

The sound of your name spoken correctly made you look back at him. The two of you stared at each other for a moment or two before you smiled at his actions. His essence was being challenged and he was trying to defend it. To fucking bad he picked the wrong person to defend it from. You leaned forward and cocked a finely plucked eyebrow showing him you weren't going to be another passive person in the business and said, "You bet your pink covered ass I am..." Hey, if you really wanted to show Miyu that her efforts did not go unrewarded (and prove to yourself that you weren't a child anymore) you might as well start here. You caught a quick glimpse of Sugiyama-san in the mirror: She was smiling. Miyavi watched you for a little longer before he scoffed and turned back around sliding a finger up the bridge of his nose to fix his sunglasses back in place. He crossed his arms over his chest and put one of his long legs up on the dashboard.

"Hey!" Sugiyama-san yelled at him and flew into a rant about treating her things with respect. If possible, the fair skin on Miyavi's face drained a little more and his mouth went into a tight line. Something was up. When the three of you pulled up to a gated in community you realized that Miyavi was upset. Sugiyama-san drove the car up to the main office and both you and Miyavi got out. You decided to move to the front seat but you hadn't planned on Miyavi shutting the door before you could move to get inside the car. He towered over you by about a foot as he leaned on the hood of the car menacingly, his hand casually limp over the edge of the hood and the side of his body pressed tight against the door. His voice would be muffled unless Sugiyama-san rolled down the window to hear what he was about to say, but she didn't. She wasn't concerned with his words or his mood change. You stood there waiting for him to move so that you could open the door again but he just stood there.

"So, you think you have me all figured out, don't you?" he asked removing his sunglasses with the hand that wasn't blocking your entrance to the car.

"Maybe I do...or maybe I want you to think I do until I crack your shell," you said trying to appease his nerves as well as get him to let you in the car.

"We'll see about that," He turned his eyes on you and much to your surprise they were a bit distant and cold looking for a split second before they began swimming with mischief once again. He pushed off of the door and opened it for you. Bingo. As you sat down you grabbed the inside handle to pull the door shut, but something kept it open. You looked up to see Miyavi leaning inside, his dark eyes teasing you, “See you around, Miss Intern." And with that he shut the door and took large steps into the main office, disappearing behind the tinted glass of the front doors.

"What was that about?" Sugiyama-san asked while putting the car in reverse. She hadn't put her foot on the gas yet and the two of you stared at the door the idol had just left went into.

"Honestly..." you said still a little confused, "I have no idea."

X-x-X-x-X

Needless to say the first month and a half of the internship were as uneventful as the meeting on the first day. Miyu had begun meeting you for lunch at the deli on the second floor of the building and every once in a while one or two of the other interns or Sugiyama-san would join the two of you. Your over-seer had given you homework the first month of your training: watching every music video, reading every lyric and listening to every song Miyavi-san had ever made. This way you could familiarize yourself with his style and thought pattern. Much to your surprise it had helped a lot. You had learned that he was transitioning from a hard rock style to a more blues sound and now a new age sound. As far as actual work was concerned you had been given the privilege of contacting the photographers for Miyavi-san's new album as well as the people who were being paid to create the album cover and artwork. Also, you were in charge of scheduling the musicians photo shoots, production meetings, meetings with his stylists and dressers, and radio or TV appearances. Due to his new involvement in a group project both you and Sugiyama-san were very busy. Although you didn't deal with them directly, representatives for other big name musicians in the band with Miyavi-san were constantly calling to speak with Sugiyama-san. Much to your delight you had not seen Miyavi-san since that day, but you did talk to him for no more than three to five minutes at a time every other week. You had no idea what to make of his last words to you. Were they a warning? You shook you head and picked up the phone to call one of the stylists assigned to Miyavi-san in order to see if they needed anything, and partly to get your mind off of the creepy artist. But, instead of hearing a dial tone like you were expecting, you heard the sound of fast paced music and deep breathing.

"Hello?" you asked out of instinct.

"Hello? Sugiyama-sama?" asked a masculine voice. Speak of the devil, you thought dryly as you leaned back in your chair at the desk outside of Sugiyama-san's office. She had decided to take the day off because her three year old boy was sick.

"Sugiyama-san is out of the office for the day. This is her intern Kristina speaking. How can I help you?" you still had to be formal, just incase you were wrong and also because you were not close to Miyavi-san. If you were to be rude to him it could cost you the internship. You would not slip up like you had that first day of work.

"Kris-chan! Thank God!" he cried. Yep, it's Miyavi-san, unforturnately he's the only one who says my name right, "It's Miyavi. Look, can you get to the studio at..." The dance studio? Why would he want you to go down to the dance studio?

"Uh, sure, but what do you want me to do? Sugiyama-san is the one who usually-"

"Well, she's not in, is she? I need an opinion and if Sugiyama-sama is your supervisor I trust that she's taught you enough these past couple months to make a good decision." You were silent for a while before Miyavi-san spoke again, "Kris-chan are you there?"

"Yes...but I don't know, Miyavi-san. I really don't think it's a good idea," you said running your free hand through your hair. You picked up a pen and began chewing on the tip of the cap.

"Look...I don't have time to be sitting around here and waiting for you to make up your mind. I'm asking you to come over here and give me your honest opinion on something. If you don't want to tell me so I can find someone who can and will..." he said in a slightly irritated voice.

You sighed loudly, "I know I'm going to regret this, but I'll be there in twenty minutes."

You could just here the triumphant smile forming on his face, "Great, I'll see you in twenty." You hung up the phone and rubbed your hands over your face. For some reason this whole situation just gave you this image of a little red flag with the words "Bad Idea" written on it waving wildly in your mind. But, if Miyavi-san needed you it must be important. You turned off your computer and set your phone to voicemail so that you wouldn't miss any calls while you were out. Grabbing your bag you made your way towards the elevators.

Outside the sky was dark grey, great just what you needed right now, a great big storm to rain down on you when you were headed back to the office. Hailing a taxi wasn't a problem for you any more, two months of trying to get home had perfected this skill, however the ride towards the studio made you anxious. He obviously wanted to show you something, but what was it? Hopefully it wasn't something as trivial as which outfits to wear to the upcoming J-Rock Revolution Tour and the Anime Expo Concert. One, you had much more important things to worry about like scheduling, school, and tuition payments. Two, you would immediately retract the respect as a serious artist that you had built for him over the past couple of months. And God help you if it was about anything less than travel or performance plans there would be one less musician in the world by the end of the evening.

When the cab pulled up to the curb you suddenly began to worry about your appearance. Because Sugiyama-san was out you had decided to dress semi-casually in dark jeans and a black form fitting baby tee with a silver butterfly on the left shoulder. You hair was down and hung down in between your shoulder blades...it really was time for a hair cut. Never had you let it grow so long, you often became bored with trying to manage long hair and cut it off before it reached and inch below your shoulders. You retained the look of being classy and professional because of the black heels you wore, a habit you had developed since you began working for Sugiyama-san. Back to what was bugging you: Was your make up smudged from rubbing your face? Did you smell bad? Was your hair a mess? Oh, for fuck's sake, what did you care? You didn't need to impress him. You answered to Sugiyama-san, not Miyavi-san. She had told you to go with his little antics to keep him happy and she would take care of the details later. However, you shook your hair a few times, just in case, and stepped into the building. As you walked towards the front desk you began digging into your bag for your Company I.D. card and suddenly you bumped into someone.

"Oh, crap!" you cried out looking up at a slightly taller Japanese female, "Sorry, my bad." You backed away from her but she took a step closer to you and studied your face very closely.

She had long straight black hair and deep set eyes. Her face was almost flat when you looked at it from the side and her cheeks were puffy. She had the look of a pretty girl if her nose didn't look like it was constantly stuck up in the air. Her outfit consisted of a black exercise sports bra-like top and a pair of white sweats through which you could see her scandalous black underwear (Worn on purpose, no doubt. She was working with one of the most eligible Japanese men alive at the moment).She watched you with her small eyes, inwardly comparing you to something she had heard. Her nose twitched as if she were ticking off things about you that she didn't like even though she just met you, "Are you Karisu-san?"

Ugh..."Yes..."

"I'm Izumi, Miyavi-kun sent me down to make sure you didn't get lost. He also said if you were late that I should warn you he wouldn't be happy."

"Well, I'm here and I'm on time so...lead the way."

"Oh no...did I forget to mention that he wanted you to be in the room by the time the twenty minutes were up?" she said with a sneer.

"But that's like right now!" She remained indifferent. You groaned and mumbled that you really didn't need this right now and waved your arm indicating that she should take you to him. She led you towards the back past the front desk and you waved at the receptionists, "Hey, Toba, how's the Missus? What's up Kim?" You thought you heard a scoff come from the scantily clad Izumi in front of you. The two smiled and replied asking how life was going and you just nodded and followed her into the large first floor studio where you assumed Miyavi-san would be waiting to hand you your punishment. As you walked in you heard what sounded like club hip hop music and a person tap dancing somewhere near the wall length mirror. You decided not to look up, you were way out of your comfort zone, this was one of the practice sessions for Miyavi-san's upcoming Neo-Visualizm release, as well as his venues in California. He was supposed to be over there right now studying English and sight seeing, but you guessed he had come back for the week just to pick up his crew.

"You're late!" he cried in the voice he used when he was trying to get a rise out of you.

"By thirty seconds..."You heaved a great sigh and saw that had an "and that means what to me?" expression on. You looked away, around the studio, anywhere but him, "Bite me..." Why did I say that? Great, now he's going to make some kind of risqué joke.

"Is that an invi-" he began with an amused tone before you cut him off.

"What did you want to show me? I need to get back to the office before it rains..." you said quickly finally deciding to look at him. He blinked but the smile never fell from his lips, "I'm sorry." You made a little bow and straightened back up to look at him. He wore a black tank top, a pair of baggy khaki cargo pants, and black tennis shoes. His hair was pulled into a haphazard ponytail and his skin glistened with sweat. You could see wet spots on his shirt where the guitar strap hung over his shoulder and pressed against him during his practicing. Boy if you weren't annoyed to hell with him, he'd look good.

"It's okay, Sugiyama-sama told me you're a bit quick tongued, and not into the whole "social" thing or whatever, so I understand," he smiled at you. You smiled back weakly but inside you were screaming at him to be an asshole to you so you wouldn't feel bad. But, that was Miyavi-san, a kind stranger, "I wanted you to watch something and tell me what you think of it, but, try not to keep your eyes just on me. I know, I know it's going to be hard but there are other people in the performance for a reason."

You rolled your eyes, "Oh, get over yourself!" you said exasperatedly. He laughed and walked over to his guitar stand and picked up the instrument. You finally looked around at the rest of the set up. There were four dancers (girls), a drummer sitting behind a very basic kit, a bassist, a young man behind the turntables and the male you assumed was tap dancing earlier. It was the practice session for the filming of his single Sakihokoru Hana No You Ni ~Neo Visualizm~ promotional video. Miyavi-san nodded at the male behind the turntables and a piano chord struck the air. Then he started singing and you shut your mind to all negative thoughts that you might have come up with before he started. The amount of pleasure and feeling he put into his performances blew your mind. How he could be so free, so comfortable and...He was in his element, and that's really the only way you could describe it. The way he danced around with his guitar, his expressions of pleasure and taunting when the girls did their part, even his little smirk while he did his flow only brought you into the feeling of the song. Had you heard this song somewhere on the radio you would have found it and danced to it in your little late night sessions back at the dorms. Speaking of which, the hard wood floors were looking pretty inviting. You hadn't danced in about a week or so. Maybe it was time you had a session tonight?

When the song was over the entire crew was sweating and breathing very hard. You smiled and clapped softly for them, "I'm used to your style by now, so I like it!" It seemed to be a good enough answer for him by the way he was beaming with pride, but someone else didn't think so.

"He didn't ask whether you liked it...I could care less whether or not you like it," snapped Izumi from her position to the left of Miyavi-san. The musician seemed to look at her like he had never seen her before and then looked back at you. She had been the only girl dancing as close to him as she could get without seeming obvious...typical, "Did it look good or not?"

Maybe it was the fact that you were graduating in a few weeks, or maybe it was the fact that you hadn't vented any frustration in while. But you didn't appreciate the way Izumi talked to you, so you dealt with it the only way you knew how. You took it and kept a straight face, albeit you weren't smiling anymore, but you refused to let her see a rise in you, "It was very good. It's new and very different but it seems to fit you well," and before Izumi could mouth off to you again, you added, "The dancers and the timing were very clean, over all it was a great performance." This seemed to please Miyavi-san and he smiled as he walked over to you until you could see and smell the sweat coming off of him, "Have you bathed?"

"Not since yesterday morning, why?" he asked with a confused expression on his face. Your eyes flickered down to his underarms and then back up to his face, but he caught what you were thinking with a devilish smile on his soft featured face. He took another step towards you and you conversely took one back. His smile widened and he closed the space between the two of you before you could react and threw an arm around your shoulders.

"Oh, ew it's wet..." you said making the "ew-grossgrossgrossohmugahd" face as he pressed his armpit down onto your shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he asked with mock concern, "I wanted to give you a hug to thank you for coming over here even though you were working, but now I feel as if you don't appreciate it."

You could hear a few of the people in the room chuckle and then burst into laughter after you said, "That's...nice, but ooooh it's so gross! Get off!" Miyavi laughed and began rubbing his underarm on your shoulder even more as you tried to push him away. You made an elongated and high pitched "hhhaaaaaeeeeee" sound as a result.

"Oh get over it!" cried an annoyed voice causing everyone to look up. Izumi stood in front of the two of you with her arms crossed and a glare set on her face, "Everyone sweats, quit acting like a stupid kid and go do your job."

"Izumi...what's wrong with you?" Miyavi-san asked letting go of you.

You ran your tongue along the inside of your bottom lip, a habit of yours when you were angry, "No it's okay, she's right," you said looking up at Miyavi and the others, "I forgot my priorities for a second. I had a lot of fun, it was really great to watch." You turned to the rest of the crew, "You guys did a great job, thank you for letting me be here. You too, Izumi-san." Everyone but Izumi thanked you and one even said to come back soon earning him a glare from Izumi. You were about to turn back to Miyavi but stopped, "I have to go now, thank you." You were half way to the door when Miyavi-san called out to you.

"You don't have to go...you could stick around for a while and watch us practice."

You shook your head, "Thank you for the offer, but I really need to get back to the office. Sugiyama-san is counting on me to finish making your schedule for the time that you'll be in Los Angeles. I'll have her e-mail it to you by the end of the week. Thanks again!" You reached the door just as Miyavi-san and Izumi began talking heatedly.

"Why are you acting like this? What did she do to you?" he asked slightly annoyed.

"She's a fucking intern!" she snapped, "Treat her like one!" Her words stung you as the door closed. You knew she wasn't saying it just for Miyavi-san and the others to hear, she had said it so that it would be the last thing you heard before you left the room. In the world of showbiz there was no befriending those in the upper ranks when you were a paper pusher was there? You sighed and went back to the front of the studio to see a raging storm outside the window. Great...fucking great.

Tapping on the front desk you looked at Kim, "Call me a cab will you? I have to get back to the office to finish up for the day." Kim nodded and picked up the phone. Tonight was going to be awesome, luckily you had resolved to do a little late night dancing to relieve your stress. Can you say contemporary with a shot of indignation? You leaned against the front desk as Kim began speaking with the cab company. Were the words "Hate Me" written on your forehead? What was it that made you the outcast of every group you tried to integrate into? And here you thought you were doing at least a little bit better.

"Miyavi-kun, where are you going?!" you heard Izumi's voice yelling from somewhere behind the wall that cut the front desk off from the rest of the building.

"Go back and practice, Izumi. I'm fucking cleaning up your mess, again!" You turned around to see him emerge from the corner. His eyes locked with yours and he made a b-line for you, "Are you okay?"

You pushed off of the counter, "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" You saw Kim hang up the phone out of the corner of your eye and tap Toba on the shoulder, stupid gossip mongers.

"Well, Izumi was...I just thought someone should apologize for her, seeing as how she isn't going to do it."

"So you decided to come and apologize in her place? That's mighty humble of you, sir."

He made an expression that you couldn't recognize and turned to look out the window. "You're going back to the office in that?" he asked indicating the storm.

You laughed, "Uh, yeah. How else am I going to get there?"

"What I mean is, you're not going to wait it out?" he asked. For some reason you felt as if he was avoiding asking you something that was on the tip of his tongue.

Looking out at the storm you replied, "Well, no. I-I mean...you know? There's really no need for me to be here anymore, I mean I gave you my opinion so really if I stay there would be no point. And I have a lot of stuff to do back at the office, so-"

"You're just going to let her talk to you like that?" he asked cutting you off. You blinked and looked down at your shoes. You were used to people berating you, and making waves wasn't really your thing. So yeah, you were going to let her get away with it. If she wanted to act like a spoiled celebrity, that was all her. At least your conscience was clear and you weren't seen as the idiot who fought back...or were you seen as the idiot who didn't fight back?

"Well, yeah...I really don't see the point in wasting my breath on something so trivial..." you looked up to see him giving a look as if you were something he couldn't figure out.

"She just insulted you and you think it's trivial?"

"...Yes..."

"I don't get you..." he said as the cab pulled up to the front of the building.

"You aren't the only one," you said grabbing your bag and heading for the front door. You were about to open it and run towards the cab when Miyavi-san's tall frame blocked your way. You knew what this was about, and really you didn't care to be lectured on top of your pride crushed, especially a lecture from someone like Miyavi, "Move please, my cab is waiting." He just stood there and stared at you, you felt his dark eyes on you and kept your own gaze averted, "Please?"

"Why?"

"Because I need to get back to work," you said still not looking at him.

"You keep saying that, but I think you're avoiding the truth. I think you're running away from the problem you have on your hands." No I'm not...am I?

"Miyavi-san, please move."

"Why didn't you stand up for yourself back there? The way you stood up to me the day we met."

Your eyes widened and you fought the urge to look at him as a blush crept onto your cheeks, "I'll ask again, please move so I can get to my cab."

"Why won't you answer me? Are you that weak?"

I not fucking weak, "Get out of the fucking way!" you yelled. You gasped and covered your mouth with your hand as you bowed deeply, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, please forgive me." He stepped out of the way and you pushed past him into the storm and ran towards the safety of the cab grateful to get away from his judgments.

"What the hell have I gotten myself into?" you thought watching the rain stream down the window like the tears you refused to shed, "...I wish he would've left me alone."
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My Darling Please