Pop Rock Love (2 page)

But the truth was, no one
really knew where they were going, or maybe she was the only clueless one. Loud
Japanese pop music blared on the sidewalks, while giant plasma screens
introduced the latest sugary pop sensation. “I’d rather have rock anytime,”
Mimi mumbled as she trudged up a slope with her luggage and guitar.

After walking around for twenty
minutes, Mimi realised that she was standing in front of a departmental store
known as PARCO, instead of where the hotel was supposed to be. She scratched
her head as she thought back, retracing her steps mentally. She figured that
she had probably gone out of the wrong exit at the station. Rather frustrated,
Mimi decided to backtrack and walk back to Shibuya train station. She turned a
corner and suddenly froze. Right there and then, she heard Yuki’s voice.

“Do you remember me?” he
whispered.

What? That is impossible, she
thought as she held her breath and looked behind. A crowd of random people were
walking towards her, but no Yuki. Maybe she really was going out of her mind.
Now it sounded as if Yuki was chanting some weird sounds next to her. But the
only thing next to Mimi was a store with a huge screen playing the music video
of some manufactured boy band.

She turned towards the screen
but it was too big and high up for her to decipher the figures dancing around.
She took a few steps back and looked up. According to the heading at the top of
the video, they were a boy band called Fire Boys. The music video displayed
five guys, dressed in shiny white suits. Each one of them, clutching a red
rose, was doing a series of synchronised finger jabbing dance moves. Their
latest single, “Love Love Night,” was heard blasting from the screen.

“What the...” she gasped.

There was no mistaking it. Yuki
was the one dancing in the middle. Mimi stared, gaping at the image of Yuki.
She didn’t even realise that she was standing in the middle of the road. The
next thing Mimi knew, there was a loud car horn and everything around her went
black.

Track #2

Am I dead or alive?

Mimi opened her eyes to see a
circle of fluorescent light. She was lying on a bed with white linen sheets. No
one was around but she gathered that somehow, she had landed in hospital.
Attempting to sit up, a sharp pain pierced through her leg, making her cry out.
A nurse who happened to be passing by entered her room.
 
“Miss Chan, how are you feeling?” she
asked, pressing a button by the bed. Mimi’s bed started to recline upwards.

“What happened to me?” Mimi
asked. She noticed that her left foot was wrapped up in a cast.

“You were brought in here in
the evening. Don’t worry, you only sprained your left ankle. It’s nothing
serious, although it may take a month to fully recover.”

“But nurse, who brought me here
and why am I in such a private room?” she asked, starting to take in her
surroundings. She was the only patient in the room and she was sure that this
place was luxurious by hospital standards. There was a cream leather couch at
the side, her own private bathroom and the bed she was currently sleeping on
was bigger and softer than her own back home. The sky had turned dark and Mimi
could see a pretty view of the streets below, dotted with night lights.

“Ah, Mr Sato has paid for your
stay in this room. He was also the one who brought you here.”

“Mr. Sato? Who is that?”

“He said he was a friend of
yours. He gave us your passport and checked you in this evening. My name is
Yoko, if you need anything just press this button,” Yoko motioned towards a red
button at the side of Mimi’s bed. She then bowed and left. Mimi laid down on
her very soft and fluffy pillow and wondered about this certain Mr Sato. Why
was he paying for her medical expenses? He had to be rather rich to pay for a
personal room. And there was also that nagging thought; what was she going to
do now?

Mimi winced in pain whenever
she tried to move her left leg. How was she going to find that idiot Yuki now?
She covered her face with her hands when she remembered that Yuki was part of
some wussy boy band who didn’t even compose their own songs and wore matching
performance outfits. If her leg weren’t in this state, she would have gone back
to Singapore. At least now, Mimi understood why he had to leave suddenly. If
Yuki, the pop star, knew that she came all the way to Tokyo, he would probably
think she was some stalker.

“Does
that make me a bimbo fan?” Mimi asked herself out loud.

“Excuse me?” a deep male voice
asked.

Was it the doctor? She wondered
as she looked towards the door. Instead, Mimi was faced with a lanky, tanned
guy wearing a tailored dark blue suit. He had long straight hair up to his
shoulders, and despite the fact that it was night time, he was wearing a pair
of sunglasses.
 

Mimi tried to sit up again but
the pain in her foot made her yelp.

“Hey, take it easy,” he said.
Mimi looked at him curiously.

“Mr Sato?” she asked. Sato gave
a quick nod but kept his sunglasses on. Mimi recognised his eyewear from the
latest Spring/Summer Gucci collection. His dark suit was also from the Italian
brand. He sat down on the sofa and finally took off his shades. He looked about
thirty, had a sharp chin and wore dark blue contacts. He wasn’t your average
pretty boy but he had a very interesting face. The trouble was, Mimi still had
no idea who he was.

“I’m sorry but I had to give
them your passport when I admitted you here,” he said, matter-of-factly in
English, “My name’s Akira Sato. Call me Sato or Akira, but I’d prefer if you
call me Mr Sato.” He leaned back on the sofa and studied her face. “So, you are
Miranda Chan from Singapore? Are you a tourist? Is there anyone I can contact
here in Tokyo?”

“I guess you can say I am here
for a holiday. But actually, right now, I would like to return to Singapore. I
think I can still travel in this state,” Mimi replied in Japanese. There was
something about his mannerism that annoyed her. He seemed arrogant and full of
himself.

“But you’ve only been here for
a day? Were you too traumatised by the accident?” He asked in Japanese.

“No, I came here for something,
but I don’t think it matters anymore,” Mimi said. Sato reached into the inner
pockets of his jacket and fished out a cigarette.

“You have been dumped, haven’t
you?” he asked, before placing the stick between his lips.

“What? No, I didn’t say that.
And you can’t smoke in a hospital!” Mimi said, glaring at him. He ignored her
and lit it anyway. She noticed his long and delicate fingers as the cigarette
dangled from them.

He blew a smoke ring in
defiance and said, “Look, let me tell you the truth. Maybe I’m not that well
known in Singapore, but I am quite an important person here in Tokyo. If you
ever let known to some tabloid reporter that I ran you down with my car, there
will be trouble for both you and I. So just tell me how much...”

“So you were the one who caused
this injury!” Mimi shouted, pointing at him. “If you were really so famous, I
would have known who you are because I have a very good knowledge of the
Japanese rock music industry. But since I don’t, stop acting like some wannabe
rocker and using money to bribe me!”

Sato stubbed his cigarette on
the carpet flooring and with his hands in his pant pockets, he swaggered
towards her. Mimi was a little alarmed by his advance but she continued glaring
at him. He stood beside her bed and said, “Come and stay with me. I have a
house maid, she will be able to take care of you until you get better.”

“What?”

He let out a short laugh. “I
won’t take advantage of you, if you are thinking about that. You are not my
type. Just let me make amends.”

“The answer is no. I just want
to go back to Singapore!”

He stretched out his hand and
patted her head, “I’ll give you one night to think about it.” And acting as if
he had not heard her at all, Sato turned away and walked to the door. “I just
think,” he said with his back facing her, “that you shouldn’t give up so
easily.” And with that, he left.

“Crazy guy!” Mimi cried and
snorted in disbelief.

A few days later, Mimi was
standing in front of his apartment, located in Ebisu, one of the most
fashionable districts in Tokyo. She was on crutches while Sato was beside her
carrying her belongings. His place was on the tenth floor and he explained to
Mimi beforehand that it had two levels and a maid came by daily to clean his
house and cook his meals. He opened the door and Mimi cautiously stepped
inside. Sato’s place was spacious, clean and minimal. He seemed like someone
who didn’t like any fuss but there was something cold about his apartment. It
had white-washed walls, parquet flooring and black modern furniture. The first
floor had a bedroom, living room, kitchen and bathroom. A small spiral
staircase led up to the second floor which had another bedroom and study. Mimi
thought it looked
like the sort of
picture-perfect house you’d see in a catalogue and she found it hard to believe
that someone was actually living here.

“Take a seat, I’ll get you
something to drink,” said Sato, after placing her stuff in the guest room on
the first floor. Mimi limped over to the living room and sat down on his black
velvet couch. She saw a bookshelf next to the television but in place of books,
numerous music awards were showcased on the shelves. No wonder he claimed
unabashedly that he was famous.

Mimi did a lot of thinking
before moving in with Sato. She would never admit it, but his words, “You
shouldn’t give up so easily,” somehow stuck. And since she was stuck with a
sprained ankle, staying with Sato may actually be her best option. She didn’t
want to spend a bomb staying at a hotel and on top of that, Shina would be too
busy with work and Mimi didn’t want to bother her. At least Sato had a maid,
Mimi reasoned. Although it didn’t really make sense that she was putting her
trust in a stranger. After her first encounter with Sato, she called her friend
for advice. Shina was pretty much in shock when she heard about Mimi’s
situation.

“Wait, did you say his name was
Akira Sato?” she asked.

“Yes, that’s what he said.”

“He is rather tall, has
shoulder-length hair and has a mole underneath his left eye?” Shina inquired.

“Er... I think so,” Mimi
replied, not one-hundred-percent sure about the mole part. She heard a loud
squeal at the other end of the line and Mimi felt a surge of panic. “Shina! You
have to keep this a secret!” she pleaded.

“Don’t worry Mimi, I will. The
thing is Sato is a famous music producer. He works for Niji Music.”

“Niji?” Mimi cried in
disbelief, “I know them! My favourite rock bands are under that company!”

Niji Music is an independent
(or “indies” as known in Japan) rock label. Don’t be fooled by the term
‘indies’, it is a serious money-making company. The most highly-acclaimed rock
bands are under the label, preferring to remain independent instead of moving
to a major recording label. Despite gaining recognition and often playing to
packed live houses, Niji bands prefer to remain underground because they could
still keep a level of creative integrity, without letting anyone in corporate
suits dictate their music career. Mimi’s favourite band, Filth, was under Niji
Music.

Shina continued, “So, it might
be a good idea to stay with him. He’s a public figure and he’s smart. He won’t
do anything to you. I figure he is just feeling guilty about knocking you
down.”

Mimi doubted that egoistic head
of his would ever feel guilty. Her temples started to throb as she replied, “I
see. Thanks Shina, I’ll call you again.”

And that was how Mimi found
herself presently sitting on Sato’s sofa – although finding out that he
was the producer of her favourite band didn’t change her opinion of him. She
crossed her arms and wrinkled her nose. She felt like she was sitting on
something. Mimi felt about behind her and found a pair of lacy black underwear.

“Yucks!” she cried, flinging it
away from her.

“What happened?” he asked,
walking towards her holding two cans of iced coffee. The black blob went flying
towards him and the panties landed on Sato’s head. Mimi coughed, trying to
stifle her laughter, both amused and horrified at the strange scene. He swept
the underwear off his head and shrugged.

“I hope that is not yours,” she
said, trying to inch away from him as he sat down next to her. Mimi’s comment
was met with a stern stare. He placed one of the cans on the coffee table and
opened his own.

“Is this for me? I don’t drink
coffee,” she said.

Sato sniggered and said, “I
think this is a good time for me to lay down some house rules.”

“House rules?”

“Firstly, this is not a
supermarket. I am giving you a roof over your head for free. So whatever I give
you, take it or leave it, there is no option.”

Mimi felt a sinking feeling of
dread and wondered what she had gotten herself into.

“Number two, and this is more
important than the first rule. From now on, you are Mimi Sato, my younger
sister who has returned from her London studies. You came back because you
missed your wonderful and adorable brother.”

“What? You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m not. I don’t want to be in
the tabloids for having some random girl in my house. Nor do I want the number
of lovers I have to diminish just because I’m housing some stranger.”

As Mimi had thought, she had
made a big mistake. But there was no turning back now. “Okay, I understand.
I’ll leave when I can walk again.”

Sato smirked and said, “Let’s
just hope your boyfriend isn’t a rock fan or he might just blow our cover.”

Yuki? That boy band member?
thought Mimi to herself. “Don’t worry. He won’t,” she said, taking a sip of
coffe.

*

Yuki sat alone in the waiting
room of the television studio. Clad in a purple hoodie that was currently
pulled over his wavy locks, he whipped out his white mobile phone and stared at
its wallpaper. It showed a shot of himself and Mimi, beside each other, cheek
to cheek, both smiling broadly. He wondered how it was possible for anyone to
even be that happy. His finger moved over to the ‘delete’ button on his mobile
phone. Suddenly, the door flung open and the rest of the Fire Boys tumbled into
the room. Their entourage of stylists, make-up artists and assistants soon
followed. The whole room was suddenly filled with chatter and commotion. Yuki
quickly stuffed his cell phone into his bag.