ADMIRE ME |Brothers Conflict

07

Three people looked up when I sat down in the car and closed to the door behind me. Although the driver returned his attention to the road when I closed the door softly, the other two men gave me scrutinizing glances. An awkward silence fell in the car as I struggled to place my crutches in such a way that I wouldn't poke Fuuto's friends on the backseat.

"Fuuto said that you would take me back to Tokyo," I explained in a soft voice, wondering whether they could see the traces of my tears. One of the men gave me a polite yet aloof smile.

"What are you to Asahina?" he asked, his eyes glittering with amusement. My gaze fell on the checkered pattern on his grey tie, which mismatched with his tailored, navy blue suit. Could he be Fuuto's manager?

With a bitter smile, I briefly entertained the thought of saying 'nothing'.

"I'm a friend of his sister," I replied, resting my head against the window, hoping that they wouldn't kick me out of the car. Absentmindedly, I turned the black recorder over in my hands, my fingers slipping over the smooth surface.

"After Yamako has brought us to the concert hall, he'll be happy to take you home," the man with the blue suit said, smiling friendly. The other man nodded once, which was all the acknowledgement he gave me. Both wore expensive suits, had neatly styled hair, and a poised attitude.

More than a bit impressed, I observed the two men who ignored each other pointedly.

Perhaps, Fuuto had two managers who each wanted to be his sole manager? Either way, I shouldn't ask invasive questions. If Fuuto heard that I had meddled with his business, he would have yet another reason to regard me with suspicion and scorn.

At the end of the road, the car turned left, stopping in front of gates which opened for us. Smoothly, the car started moving again, and we drove past the concert hall, eventually coming to a stop in front of two doors. Several trucks were parked around this door, a crew in white shirts running around.

"Good luck on your way back," the man with the grey tie said before leaving the car. The other man didn't look at me, already focused on his next task.

The world of idols wasn't new to me, but this side of it was. I had never seen past the stage, the flashing lights, plastic smiles, and songs.

It was like expecting a shallow creek, but finding a deep lake instead.

However, my first encounter with what happened behind the scenes was brief. After the two men left the car, the driver turned the car and drove away. Suddenly, I was alone with the driver, who didn't appear to be interested in me.

Silently, I watched the landscape as we headed to the expressway.

The yellow lights made me feel drowsy, but every time we stopped at a tollbooth, I woke up again. Therefore, I still didn't know whether Yamako was his first or last name when we changed expressways in Nagoya. All this time, the driver didn't even glance at me, his eyes on the road ahead of us.

A glance at the digital clock above the radio in the car and I learnt that it was well past midnight. I was bound to regret this tomorrow.

Sighing, I wondered why going to the concert had seemed like a good idea. If I had ended up in the festival hall, I wouldn't have been home until well in the morning.

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"Where're we?" I asked, rubbing my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt.

The driver lifted his gaze, looking at me through the rearview mirror.

"We're still at the Tomei Expressway," he said, "Twenty miles south of Tokyo. What's your address?"

Still dazed, I told him my address, which he typed into the GPS-system on the dashboard.

Blinking sluggishly, I looked out of the window. Even in the dark, I could see the silhouettes of factories and office buildings.

In one day – well, a glance at the clock and I knew that technically speaking, I had used two days – I had gone to Osaka and back.

A dazzling distance that made me feel giddy, though I blamed that on sleep deprivation.

Anxiety made it difficult to fall asleep again -a combination of the throbbing pain in my ankle and apprehension over my father's reaction. When we reached my house, I sighed deeply.

"Thank you for bringing me all the way," I said, hoping that he knew how grateful I was. The driver nodded once, driving off as soon as I had closed the door.

I stretched my back, feeling numb after hours of sleeping in a car. Then, knowing that I couldn't prolong this moment anymore, I hobbled to the door.

Unfortunately, my keys had been in my bag, which was most likely still in Osaka. Before I could lift my hand to press the doorbell, my father opened the door, relief, anger, and amusement in his expression.

"Miss [L/N]," he huffed, " on what ground do you believe that I'll let you in?"