Pop Rock Love (5 page)

“Why haven’t you ever offered
me any pay?” Roy asked. He was wiping the bar counter with a cloth.

“That’s because you’re family
and you offered to help me.”

“This is clearly favouritism!
Anyway, I don’t see why you need me around when you have someone else to help
out at Sakura. I should be focusing on my studies anyway.”

“Well, if you feel that way, go
study then.”

Roy pushed his glasses up his
nose and gave her the silent treatment. But her brother never stopped helping
out at the bar. He still lurked around doing his job, serving drinks while
giving Yuki shifty glares. Mimi found the whole situation rather funny as Yuki
didn’t seem to notice her brother’s unwelcoming attitude. He always gave Roy a
sweet smile whenever he saw him. Yuki was, quite surprisingly, diligent in his
job. She also realised that these days, more female customers were dropping by
the bar. Yuki would always stick around to help with the closing too.

“Yuki, what did you work as in
Tokyo? Were you some sort of waiter? You seem so comfortable here.”

“Me?” he said. Yuki thought
about it before replying, “I was a dancer.”

Mimi narrowed her eyes at him,
“Are you lying?”

“You don’t believe me? Let’s
bet on it.”

Mimi looked at his skinny frame
and wondered, how could this guy be a dancer? She didn’t think he could even
pass off as a ballet dancer.

“What do you want to bet on?”

“If I’m right, you have to
grant me a wish.”

“Fine. Prove it.”

Yuki was wearing a black
pullover and jeans. He walked over to the pub’s mini stage and said, “I need
some music.”

“What kind of music?”

“Anything by m-flo?” he asked.

“I don't think so?” Mimi said,
clearly baffled.

“Never mind, give me ‘Boom Boom
Pow’ by the Black Eyed Peas.”

She walked over to the sound
console and began to play the urban hip hop tune. Once the music blared, Yuki
started off with a perfectly executed backflip. Mimi gasped in surprise. He
seemed like a totally different person altogether. His body moved in sync with
the beat and then Yuki started a dance routine that included popping, locking
and he gave a grand finish with a one-handed handstand.

Mimi clapped loudly. “I was
wrong for not believing you. That was awesome!”

He sat down by the stage and
folded his arms.

“Are you angry?” Mimi asked,
walking towards him. He reached out and held both her hands. Pulling her
towards him, he looked at Mimi seriously. “Please close your eyes,” he asked.
Mimi obeyed. Yuki then leaned towards her and planted a soft kiss on her lips.
She opened her eyes in astonishment. It was the first time he kissed her.
“Mimi, I can never be angry at you,” he whispered and wrapped his arms around
her, holding her close. “I didn’t realise it before but when I came to
Singapore, I was searching for something. I found you. And in a way, I found
myself.”

She held on to him tightly too.
At that moment, Mimi loved everything about him... Everything.

Track #4

When Sato returned home that
evening, he found Mimi in a deep sleep with her arms hugging her guitar. Music
sheets were strewn all over her. He turned towards Yamada and asked, “Has she
been sleeping all day?”

“No, she was strumming her
guitar for a while before that. But the poor girl must be tired, she does sleep
a lot,” Yamada replied. Sato picked up one of the pieces of paper and glanced
at the title of the music sheets, “Maybe.”

By the time Mimi woke up, the
whole house was drenched in darkness. Grabbing her mobile phone, she glanced at
the time. It was 2 am and her throat felt extremely dry. Reaching out for her
crutches, Mimi slowly crawled out of bed. She was astonished to see that the
room upstairs still had its lights on. A loud banging suddenly blared from the
study, startling her and she wondered if the owner of the black underwear had
returned. It was an uncomfortable thought but she desperately needed some
water.

The soft tinkling sounds of the
keyboard rang through the darkness. Someone was playing a slow and sad melody.
Forgetting her initial thirst, Mimi sat on the steps of the spiral staircase
yearning to hear more. Before long, she found her face wet from her own tears.
The music seemed so full of bittersweet memories, even though it had no words.
The playing eventually stopped but she sat there, glued to the step, waiting.
She didn’t even realise that someone was standing beside her.

“Mimi?”

She yelped in surprise.

“Calm down,” said Sato as he
sat down beside her. “What was that about?”

“I’m sorry, I was thirsty but I
heard your music and it was...” Mimi looked at him. “It was beautiful.”

Sato looked at her tear-stained
face and sighed. He stood up and offered his hand to her. “Come on, I’ll get
you something to drink.”

They both sat at the dinner
table. Sato had opened two cans of beer and passed one to Mimi. She took it and
wondered why the atmosphere between them was always so strained. For a few
minutes Mimi just focused on drinking from the can.

“You couldn’t sleep?” she
asked.

“I don’t sleep,” he replied.

“At all?”

“Maybe, one, two hours at the
most.”

“Oh...” Mimi scratched her head
and racked her brain, trying to think of another topic. She shook her can. The
beer was gone.
 
Sato looked at her
quizzically. “Do you need my help in finding him? I have tons of networks.”

“Huh?” It took her a while
before she realised who he meant.
 
“It’s kinda complicated,” she said, wearily.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Not with you, Mimi thought.

“Can I have some more beer?”
she asked instead. He shrugged and passed her another can. Mimi opened the can
and gulped down the chilled beer. She took a deep breath and said, “It’s
complicated because I love everything about him. But now I wonder if he ever
loved me. Now, as I’m here, thinking about it, I don’t think he ever did.”

“Why don’t you ask him instead
of assuming? Guys are not good as expressing themselves.” Sato said, opening
another can of beer for himself.

“I’m probably scared of the
answer,” she said, hanging her head low.

“I see.”

She wondered if he was mocking
her. “Guys are not good at expressing themselves? I think you express yourself
very well.”

Sato sneered, “Me? I’m the
worst kind of guy.”

“Why?”

“I’m handsome, cool, talented
and have that tortured air going on. Women want to save me, but I never let
them. I just string them along, draining them of all their energy.”

“You really are the worst!”
Mimi said, nodding. She could feel the effects of the alcohol kicking in and
her eyelids were getting heavy.

“So, Mimi, you’re lucky that I
warned you,” he said looking straight into her eyes. “Don’t fall in love with
me.”

Mimi snorted in disbelief.
“Sorry, I don’t find you handsome or cool,” she muttered as she gulped down her
beer.

Sato seemed amused. “You are
definitely not my type.”

The next morning Mimi found
herself sprawled on the living room couch with a bad headache. The sun was
already up and empty cans of beer were thrown haphazardly on the floor.
 
Sato seemed to have left for work,
leaving the mess behind. Mimi slowly limped over to her bed and was prepared to
spend another day sleeping when a text message beeped from her cell phone.
Curiously she picked it up and found that the text message came from last
night’s drinking buddy.

She read the text aloud,
“Yamada had a home emergency to attend to and I left an important file at home.
It is a clear folder next to my laptop in my study room. Take a taxi down to
the Niji Building at Ginza. I’ll meet you downstairs. Make yourself useful.”

What? Do I really have a
choice? Wait a minute, on second thought, Niji Building? Maybe I can see Filth
there. That idiot better introduce us, thought Mimi, as she read the text
message again.

Whatever the case, it was
better than dying from boredom here. Searching through the clothes in her
suitcase, Mimi threw on a below-knee pink checkered shirt dress and a white
scarf. She then cautiously climbed up the stairs (more like hobble her way up)
and peeked into Sato’s room. His study room functioned like a mini music
production studio and had a keyboard and sound mixing equipment. After finding
the file, Mimi made her way out whilst leaning heavily on her crutches, and
hailed a cab.

“Niji Building please,” Mimi
told the driver. It was a breezy spring day in Tokyo. The weather was cool with
soft rays of sunlight and she knew that somewhere, cherry blossoms were in full
bloom. She glanced out of the window of the cab to see steady streams of
business professionals walking briskly along the pavements. Everyone in Tokyo
appeared to be in a rush to go somewhere. Mimi felt a little envious and she
wondered when she was ever going to have any direction in her own life.

The taxi stopped in front of a
silver circular building about twenty-storeys high. Mimi spotted some teenage
girls loitering around the entrance who were decked out in black, with thick
black eyeliner, carrying CD singles of Filth. The taxi stopped by the entrance
of Niji building where a man in a black suit greeted her and paid for the taxi
fare. He helped Mimi with her crutches and guided her inside, past security.

“My name is Shiba, I’m Filth’s
new manager. Mr. Sato asked me to meet you,” said the man, and he offered Mimi
his business card.

“My name is Mimi. Nice to meet
you.”

“You do look a little like Mr.
Sato.”

“Excuse me?” she exclaimed as
the lift arrived on the seventh floor. She suddenly remembered that she was
supposed to be his sister. “Oh, thank you,” she added hurriedly.

“Here you go, this is his
office,” Shiba said, opening the office door for her.

“Thank you,” she said, stepping
inside. Sato’s office was massive. It had red sofas, gigantic autographed
posters of the bands under Niji music, a flat screen television and a big desk.
There was even a small pool table set up in the corner.

“Take a seat, he’ll be coming
up,” said Shiba as he bowed politely and took his leave. Mimi sat on the couch,
and looked down at the folder in her hands. A photograph of Filth was on the
front of the file. Mimi looked at it curiously and thought, maybe it had some
secret information on Shuji, her favourite member from the band. Sato swaggered
into his office shortly. “You’re late,” he said, folding his arms.

“I guess, you don’t know how to
say ‘thanks’?” she retorted.

“You know it’s your fault that
I forgot this,” he said, picking up the folder.

Mimi rolled her eyes and
muttered under her breath, “Idiot.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing,
I’ll get going now,” she said, reaching for her crutches.

“Wait, you like this band,
don’t you?” he asked, waving the file.

“How do you know?”

“You have their song as your
mobile phone’s ringtone.”

“Ah...” she nodded. Mimi had
Filth’s latest single “Grim Beauty” as her call alert tone.

“Come with me to the studio.
They are recording their new album.”

“Really?” Mimi’s heart skipped
a beat.

“Yes, but if anyone asks,
you’re my sister.”

“Thank you!” Mimi said and
without thinking, jumped up in joy. “Ow!” she shouted as she landed on her bad
ankle and slipped. Sato quickly grabbed on to her. “I think you’re the real
idiot,” he said, holding on to Mimi tightly.

They both stood in the elevator
in silence. “Yes,” said Sato suddenly. “I realise you’re like a strawberry
glazed donut.”

“What?”

“You look frosty on the outside
but the truth is you’re actually soft on the inside.”

“That is ridiculous. But why
strawberry?”

“You’re always in pink,” Sato
pointed out.

“Idiot.”

“And the way you call me
‘idiot’ is very rude for a little sister.”

“I don’t think you can lecture
me about manners.”

“Of course I can, I am your
beloved older brother,” said Sato giving her a little smile that didn’t reach
his eyes.

“If my ankle didn’t hurt, I
would have kicked you.”

They arrived at the basement.
Mimi stepped out and looked around in awe. “Wow,” she gasped, looking at the
recording studios. Mimi didn’t know anything about music production but
everything looked shiny and state-of-the-art. They walked into the biggest
studio. The studio was divided into two smaller sections. One, where she was currently
standing, was the control room. It was the area where the producers and music
composers stayed during a recording and was filled with various equipment such
as mixing consoles and monitor speakers. The other section of the studio was
the recording booth where the artistes recorded their music.

Mimi drew in a sharp breath
when she saw Filth in the recording booth. They all seemed busy and were
meddling with their instruments except Shuji. He was standing by the
microphone, peering at Mimi and she felt as if he was scrutinizing her. Wearing
a large Rolling Stones Forty Licks T-Shirt that highlighted his bony frame,
Shuji’s chin-length brown hair was tied in a low ponytail and he had thick
black eyeliner on. Mimi thought he looked better in person than in their music
videos.

“Sato, who is that cute girl
beside you?” he asked, speaking through the microphone. Everyone in the two
sections could hear him and they all turned to look at Mimi. She really wanted
to hide somewhere at that moment. Sato answered back calmly. “My sister. She
wanted to see where I worked.”

“Oh, I see. I’m sure she’s the
good-looking one in the family,” answered Shuji and he gave her a quick wink.
Mimi just looked back at him, open-mouthed, too surprised to react.

“Let’s start. Instrumentals
record first, Shuji comes in later,” instructed Sato.
 
The raw growl of the bass guitar rang
through the studio. Mimi could feel the energy of the music run through her
veins. She shut her eyes and listened intently. Filth was a four-piece band
– guitar, bass, drums and vocals. They officially made their debut with
Niji Music about three years ago. Despite playing loud rock music, which
included some heavy metal and industrial rock influences, the members had a
large female fan base due to its good-looking members. But no one could deny
that Filth had talent. It was like putting four gifted musicians together in a
band. Their music was strong, loud and seductive. The vocalist Shuji was in
charge of the lyrics while the other band members composed the music.

The track they were recording
today was called “White Face” – a mid-paced rock ballad – for their
upcoming album. Shuji approached the mic and started to sing. Rumour has it
that Shuji’s whole family died in a plane crash when he was ten. He never
confirmed it. In fact, he barely mentioned to anyone, even to his own band
mates, about his family. And they knew him enough not to probe. Shuji sang like
a tormented angel, sometimes screaming into the microphone, sometimes
whispering gently. Every note came alive with his voice.