Shingo was rudely awakened from his sleep by the jarring ringtone of his cell. He fumbled on the bedside table and brought it to his ear. He heard Ryo’s tired voice and for a moment, he wondered whether Ryo had gotten into a fight at some random bar and needed him to bail him out of trouble. It wouldn’t be the first time he had done things like that and sometimes he felt more like a strict disciplinarian to a rebellious teenager hell-bent on self-destructing rather than the manager of an artiste.

“Shingo, I wrote something.” The voice on the other end of the line cackled with static and he sounded bored, disinterested.

“You did?” Shingo’s voice raised a few notches and there was a pause, before he heard Ryo’s slightly amused voice.

“You probably have Kamenashi to thank for that.”

~*~

 Kame was cleaning his house when he heard the doorbell chime. He was surprised at the guest but nonetheless, he opened the door. Murakami Shingo was standing there, and Kame simply leaned against his door, not making an effort to invite him in.  

“I won’t take up much of your time. I’ll just let you listen to something.” Kame deliberated for a while and pushed open the door.

“Okay 10 minutes”

Shingo placed a demo CD inside his hi-fi set and hit ‘play’. There was crackling in the background and the only accompaniment was the acoustic guitar. The sound was raw and yet it was as though it was stripped of all pretenses and the singer had laid bare his emotions for the listeners to see. There was something desperate in the voice, yet when he got to the chorus, it was brimming with unmistakable hope and belief.

I know you didn't
bring me out here to drown
so why am I 10 feet under and upside down?
Barely surviving has become my purpose
cause I'm so used to living underneath the surface

If I could just see you
everything will be alright
If I see you
the storminess will turn to light

and I will walk on water
and you will catch me if I fall
and I will get lost into your eyes
and everything will be alright


“It is this voice that made me stay by Ryo’s side even if he’s no longer the person I used to know. This genuine voice that stands out in this industry of mass-produced music and the ability to touch people with his lyrics. Give him a chance, and maybe you will realize he isn’t all he seems to be.”

Kame thought back on Ryo saying that he was burnt out and that look in his eyes as though he had wanted to believe that. How he looked into Kame’s eyes before blinking and looking away again. And he had been enthralled by the stoic, enigmatic image in front of him, because the man behind the songs was just as captivating and he wondered just how many stories there were bottled inside that slouching frame and bowed head. Because he wanted to know. He wanted to know what had caused that strange air of world-weariness to someone who was all but twenty-three, as though he was worn-down through the sun and rain, the heartbreak and the tears.

“What happened to Ryo?” Kame said, his hands resting deceptively on his knees. For a moment, he thought he saw something but it was replaced by a tight smile as he opened his briefcase.

“Those are the answers only Ryo himself can give you.”

There was an uncertain, fairly anxious look on Kame’s face as he glanced sideways at Shingo.

“What makes you think I can actually be his assistant?”

“He likes you, and trust me, that’s more than what I can say for the previous people I employed.” Kame wasn’t exactly reassured even though there was something oddly persuasive and sincere about Murakami Shingo even though he was obviously a businessman used to measuring things in monetary terms. He looked at the papers in front of him, noting all the lengthy clauses and conditions, and in the background, he could hear Ryo’s voice fading into silence, replaced by the simple procession of droning organ notes, seamlessly weaving in and out of the guitar riffs. Kame picked up the pen and for a moment, the tip of the pen hovered above the dotted line. Then he scrawled his signature right at the bottom, before letting go of that pent-up breath he had been holding inside him.

~*~

Kame stood in the middle of the room, scanning his surroundings. Most of the furniture was white and ebony black, creating a stark contrast and the room was curiously devoid of personal touches. Shingo had been nice enough to drive him here and the last thing he had said to him was “not to let Ryo intimidate you”. And standing here in the penthouse suite of the high-rise apartment, he wondered how exactly he was supposed to not get intimidated. He took a quick glance at the clock. One fucking pm and the sunlight had already dripped onto the carpet through the cracks in the blinds. Apparently musicians weren’t very good at punctuality because Shingo had told him Ryo normally woke up a little after noon. Then he heard the whisper of bare feet against the lush carpet and his head whipped around.

Ryo walked out of his room, dressed in a button-down shirt with the sleeves carelessly pushed up to his elbows and faded jeans. He didn’t even acknowledge Kame standing in the middle of the room, the first thing he did was head for the bar and pour himself a concoction of liquor. Apparently musicians also drank alcohol like people drank milk in the morning, keeping in consistency with their public persona of being emo and tortured, except it wasn’t really morning anymore.

“Nishikido-san? Erm..Ryo.”

Ryo’s eyelids fluttered in a weak blink before they settled on Kame, and he gestured towards the couch with one hand, his other hand cradling a tumbler of alcohol. Kame sat down and he saw the light bouncing off the tiny silver cross dangling in the hollow of his throat. He wondered whether Ryo actually believed in God, because frankly, he didn’t looked like he believed in anything except the power of inebriation. Then there was the metal snicking sound and the rasp of a flint being struck and Kame mentally thought that he would have backed out of this, if not for the contract he had signed and that very same clause underlined right at the bottom.

“I have an interview scheduled for today, with B-Pass. I think Shingo left something on the bedroom table for you, from the PR agency about the questions and everything.” Then Ryo tipped his head back, smoke escaping with his ragged breaths. Kame nodded, having worked at a record company before, he knew there were stringent rules and regulations involved with the interviews, especially the questions asked. And it was the assistant’s duty to prevent the interviewer from overstepping their boundaries, or maybe in Ryo’s case, getting thrown out on their asses.

“You know I’m surprised you agreed.” Ryo’s voice snapped Kame out of his reverie, and he looked at Ryo who was tapping the ashes into the tumbler from the dangling cigarette in his hand, the ashes making a hiss as they hit the beer left inside.

“Well, it’s that song so maybe you’ll be glad to know you haven’t lost it.” Kame said as he stood up and headed for the bedroom.

~*~

The fax was on the table, amidst all the mess of broken pencil leads and crumpled balls of paper. He was about to throw the mess into the dustbin when he saw something written on one of those papers.

I miss the years that were erased
I miss the way the sunshine would light up your face
So far away from where you are
These miles have torn us worlds apart

He couldn’t make out the rest of the lines after that because they had been erased. He looked through the papers on the desk. Most of them were written on, just a few lines as if the writer had written them and then given up because he had difficulty conveying his feelings. He couldn’t find it in himself to throw them away along with the rubbish because they echoed a person’s heartbreak and loneliness, and it all felt too real to be merely made up. Then he saw the faint kanji words, someone’s name. Uchi Hiroki, written in a messy scrawl at the bottom. And somehow, he knew this was the key to unraveling the mystery that was Nishikido Ryo, somehow he knew this person to Nishikido Ryo was what Kyoko was to him.

Then he heard a faint cough and Kame saw Ryo just standing there, leaning against the door, his expression placid.

“I wasn’t snooping.” Those words slipped out before Kame could stop himself and he felt angry that he felt the need to justify himself and explain so hurriedly.

“It’s okay.” Ryo said as his outstretched hand closed the distance between them. Kame looked down at the open palm for a moment and he tightened his grip around the paper in his hand before he relinquished his hold and handed it over.

He already knew what was going to happen, but he didn't expect the pain that made his heart clench painfully in his chest as he watched Ryo crush the paper in his fist, knuckles whitening with the force he was exerting before he tossed it into the dustbin. And he walked out without a second glance, as though that paper belonged there with all the trash. As though it didn’t matter to that very same person who had written it.