i wake up to the screeching sound of my 8 o'clock alarm.
my sore body wouldn't let me get up, so i let it ring for a few moments before i couldn't stand it anymore. i quickly turn it off and stare at the ceiling. i put my palms to my forehead; "why the hell am i so sore? it's not like i went out clubbing or some shit," i thought. i run a hand over my face, leaving it over my eyes a bit longer.
i hesitantly and painfully sit up, not wanting to leave my warm and comfy covers. i bury my face into my hands for a second before actually getting up from my precious bed.
i drag my feet to the bathroom and brush my teeth. "ah, fuck," i curse under my breath, putting a finger to my bleeding gum. i finish, deciding to ignore it.
after i finished getting ready, i had to pick an outfit for my 'knock' cover at this small café i could never pronounce the name of. my dumbass forgot to pick the outfit the night before because i was so tired, so it took me about 10 minutes contemplating between both of my choices before i finally picked one.
just as i was about to leave the room, my phone goes off. "hello?" i say. "hi, ms. fumiko sasaki right?" "yes, that's me." "i'm calling from patisserie boissiere in shibuya, your performance has been moved from 11:45 a.m. to 11 a.m." "what?? why didn't you tell me sooner? it's already 10:30!" "mis-" "y'know what? it's fine. i'll be there asap." i hang up, rushing to get my things and sprinting out of my apartment.
i hurry in to my car and start driving like a maniac. "what the hell man?! why didn't they tell me like, yesterday?" i say to myself while squeezing the steering wheel, impatiently waiting for the red light to turn green. as soon as it does, i step on the gas. it's a good thing the café is near my home, so i won't be that late.
i arrive at 10:40, scrambling into the bathroom to top up my shitty makeup. i walk out. "ms. sasaki! you made it in ti-" "not now."
i begin warming up, the adrenaline and nerves fusing to make a big mess in my brain. i feel my hands starting to get clammy and realised i hadn't eaten anything. "hey, could i have something to eat?" i ask one of the staff. "no. your performance is on in two minutes," he replies. "rude," i say under my breath. i guess i'll have to pray i don't pass out or something.
i start dancing, trying to keep my face not-so bitchy. people actually seemed interested. my eye was on this one white-haired dude which wasn't paying attention at all. despite a few glances, he acted like i wasn't there.
my audience didn't lose interest and that motivated me a little. (despite that white-haired guy, what a bitch.) i feel a little lightheaded, but alright.
as i approached the dance break, things started to get patchy. i manage to finish the dance, but black out as soon as i try to look decent for the ending.
i wake up to the staff i asked food from trying to shake me awake. "ms. sasaki! ms. sasaki!" he called. "hmm?" i responded. i tried sitting upright, but the weight of my head didn't let me. "oh, thank goodness you're awake!" one of the people from the audience said, her hands over her mouth. i smile weakly at her. "you alright?" the staff asked. "yeah, my head hurts a lot, though."
i look over to my side and see the white-haired man standing a good distance away from the stage i was dancing on, hands in his pockets. his face was indifferent as if he saw this happen every day.
"anyone got a pillow or something soft? i need to cushion her head," asked the worker who shook me awake. everyone stayed quiet. "seriously? none of you have anything soft? that's weird," i said, rolling my eyes.
the white-haired man reluctantly opened his backpack and gave me a small pillow. "here," he said in a flat tone, his face borderline disgusted. i smile sarcastically at him while the worker took it and placed it under my head.
i successfully made it up after 5 minutes, plopping down onto a nearby chair and putting my head on the table.
"for fucks sake," i say under my breath, lifting my head up. "what the fuck do you want, blondie?" i see him sit down across from me. he stays silent, hands in his pockets once again. "if you're expecting me to thank you for the pillow, giving it to me was literally the bare minimum." i said, annoyed. "i still wanna hear you say it." he responded, tilting his head to the side. i roll my eyes. "thank you. there, i said it. now fuck off." i retorted, going back to my original position. i could feel him walking away with a smirk on his face.
