Lynne

Chapter 1

"There's nothing Ia. Nothing," I complained into my phone as I scrolled through the internet, scouring for some last minute tickets. I paused every few minutes only to pick up my coffee and take a drink. The lively sounds of the café echoed in the background.
Ia's high pitched sigh sounded through the phone. "Should we even bother with it? I don't want you to just get scammed again."
I furrowed my brow at the screen. "I was so excited to go. What kind of person scams teenagers using concert tickets?"
"A fucked up asshole."
I chuckled. "Yeah."
Ia sighed again. After a seconds pause, she spoke. "Rin, I'll be the one to say it. I know we're both thinking it anyway."
"Um, what?"
"Maybe we should just... find new singers to like."
I took a quick, frustrated breath. "Why? Just because the Vocals are changing their styles a little bit..."
"A little bit? Every single one of their songs are about sex and drugs," she muttered.
"You're just mad because we lost our tickets. Just let me find more-"
"No, Rin! There's no point anymore."
Click.
I rolled my eyes, and set my phone down next to my laptop. I rested my elbow on the table, with my finger on my now-pounding temple. Every ticket I found was either sold, or seven hundred dollars.
Ia and I had always been Vocaloid fans. Pretty much since the company started. We'd been to so many concerts, but we had never been scammed on the internet for their tickets. Ia seemed to be more upset about it than I was, despite the fact that I was the one who was two hundred dollars poorer.
I took another sip of my coffee, and gave my eyes a break from the screen. I looked out at the perfect weather, watching people walk down the sidewalk with smiles on their faces and skips in their steps. I frowned. It was perfect concert weather.
I had even dressed for it already. I had picked out a light, knee length white sundress with yellow flowers stitched into them. I wore my favorite white headband with a bow on it, nestled into my well- groomed blonde hair. It had taken me an hour just to find my white bobby pins and place them in the perfect spots in my bangs. Even my eyeliner was perfect. I felt hot as fuck.
But it didn't matter anymore. I had to just go home and watch the concert on cable, crying into a huge bowl of popcorn.
I rested my hand on the top of my laptop, preparing to close it. After a moment's hesitation, I returned it to the keyboard. It couldn't hurt to look for a couple more minutes.
As I scrolled through Google, I saw a person appear out of the corner of my eye.
"Can I sit here?" A man asked.
"Yeah, sure," I replied mindlessly.
He sat down, coffee in hand, and relaxed into his chair. I paid little attention to him.
"I've never been to this place before," he said. "Their coffee is great."
"Yeah," I replied, not paying much attention. "It's alright."
"You don't see a lot of locally-owned cafés anymore."
"Yeah."
He sighed.
"God dammit," I whispered under my breath as I clicked on another dead link.
"Everything alright?" The boy asked.
I took a deep breath, rubbing my head. "No," I answered. "I got scammed out of concert tickets and I can't find replacements. And the concert starts in, like, four hours."
"Oh, you mean the Vocaloid concert?"
"Yeah."
He nodded. "I have a couple of extra tickets if you want them."
My fingers halted on my head , a sudden feeling of unease in me. I looked up at him for the first time during the conversation. He was wearing a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and a low-lying fedora on his head. He was looking to my left, out the windows. His face was hidden behind his chin-length blonde hair.
"You weren't gonna go alone, were you?" He continued.
I narrowed my eyes. "Uh, no," I replied, unsure of how much information I should give this mysterious stranger. "Just...just me and a friend."
He nodded, reaching for his pocket. My jaw dropped as he pulled out two concert tickets, and placed them on the table. He still didn't look at me.
A couple quiet seconds passed. "Um," I stuttered. "I-I can't pay you for those."
He let out a laugh. "Don't worry about it."
I cocked my head to the side, not knowing how to handle this situation. "Um, what did you say your name was?"
The boy turned his head to look at me, and my heart dropped.
"I didn't," Len Kagamine said with a sly smile. I gaped at him, like an idiot, and he held his pointer finger to his lips, shushing me. I nodded, understanding, but unable to speak.
"What about you?" He asked, his fedora hanging just over his cunning blue eyes. "What did you say your name was?"
I finally found my words. "I didn't, either." I mentally scolded myself for my attitude.
He chuckled. "Well you know who I am, it looks like."
I felt a blush coming to my cheeks. I looked down at my keyboard, trying to compose myself. "I'm Rin."
He leaned back in his chair, and motioned to the tickets. "Well, Rin, these tickets don't have much use to me," his cocky smile returned. "Since I'm... ya' know, in the concert. So you can have 'em."
For a second, I was put off by his narcissism, but decided to ignore it. "Th- thanks. I-"
"Oh and there's backstage passes too," he interrupted.
"Uh, cool. Are you s-"
He leaned forward, cutting me off again. "Maybe, after the show, we could... Get together, or something," he said softly.
My jaw dropped again. "Excuse me?" I asked, my voice rising.
He raised his eyebrows. "You heard me."
Without waiting for me to reply, he checked his watch, and stood. "I've got to run. Rehearsal." He nodded towards the tickets. "See you there." He flashed me another smile and turned around, keeping his head low. He strode confidently out of the café.
I eyed the tickets, not sure what to make of this.
I shook my head, and grabbed them off the table. I half expected them to be fake, considering how rude he had been to me, but they looked legit. And, like he promised, there was a backstage pass on each one.
I had always known that celebrities could be jerks, but I had always hoped- prayed, even- that the Vocaloids would be the kind people I had imagined them. A long time ago, when Miku was the only one, I went to one of her concerts, and she was so nice to all of us. She signed my t-shirt, gave me a hug, took a picture with me....
Maybe it was just Len that was rude, I thought.
Which was still a shame, because his music had always been my favorite.
I closed my laptop and put it in my bag with the tickets. I slung the bag over my shoulder, grabbed my coffee, and took my phone out of my pocket. I dialed Ia's number.
"What," her depressed voice asked through the phone.
I debated whether to tell her that Len had been such a dick to me, but, knowing that he was her favorite too, I decided against it.
"You are never going to guess what just happened to me."