In the corner was a table full of younger ladies, all of them were impeccably groomed and doning Louis Vuitton or Dior.

80% of them were probably wearing Manolo Bhlanik stilettos.

Only one or two of them were actually looking at the men that had just entered, one of those girls, leaned across the table and whispered into another's ear, this one had long copper colored hair that was curled into loose ringlets that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back.

Cradled in her right hand was a Cosmopolitan. She must have been the ring-leader.

The group of giggling girls then got up from the table, grabbing napkins and digging into their expensive designer handbags for pens before they began trotting over to where Kaz and Keiji were seated. The first girl, who was obviously bolder than the others then immediately asked for Kaz's autograph...the others then chimed in after her. All of them were like lionesses in the way that they looked at the two of them, as if they were ready to pounce and eat them alive.

Kaz replied: "You don't look like my regular fans...Who should I make it out to?"

The first girl in line quickly answered... "Aiko."

Then the second "fan" stepped up and said, "Aiko."

Then the third. "Aiko".

Apparently they were all named Aiko.

Kaz's smile became forced as he glanced over their heads, through them. Where the fuck is she? That bitch. On the girls napkins he wrote her his messages: To Aiko, Choke on a cock. Love, Kaz And... Aiko, Shouldn't you be in jail, or did daddy bail you out? Love, Kaz. And a third, Bitch, too scared to face me? Kisses. Kaz.

With her lips freshly painted and her nose elegantly powdered, Fujihana Aiko wore a cheshire smile and an incredibly coordinated outfit as she stalked her prey.

When she was close enough for Kaz to hear her she spoke up, her hand sliding over his shoulder delicately as the words escaped. "Choke on a cock... that was poetic..."

"Aiko." Apparently, Kaz wasn't happy to see his ex-girlfriend. But after the way they'd broken up (read: she broke up with him), -after numerous fights, cheating, lies, and god-knew what else...

Who really blamed him?

***

stats.
job description :: paparazzi princess
affiliation :: sumiyoshi-kai
height :: 5'3"
weight :: 105 lb
age :: 20
beauty marks :: one small and lonely freckle just below her left breast; a small imperfection on a canvas of white.
favorite designers :: dior, commes des garçons, vuitton, marc jacobs
writer :: BROOKE

***

"If there is anything that I could do to help, or anything you need... "

Pause.

"Don't hesitate to let me know." Then, her movements were timed perfectly as she reached out to removed an imaginary piece of lint that tarnished the chest area of his shirt, the tips of her fingers barely making contact with his skin under it.

Confusion flashed through the kyodai's brain. After all-- this was a girl he'd seen grow up. He stood a little straighter, his head canting slightly, his voice lowering. "...if I need a vacation or if my schedule clears up?"

Just as suggestive as the lint perhaps. But they were just words. And it was just dust.

With a slight curl of the corners of her lips, and a submissive tilt of her head, she made her intentions clear.

"Whenever."