restaurant girl | t. muichiro

chapter 13: winging it?

「

𝐢'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐲, '𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲

」

Muichiro tried.

Desperately oiling his scalp, applying every single reviving conditioner and spray he could find, he tried to return his hair to its once shiny and vibrant hue of bright turquoise and pitch black.

But he couldn't.

More hair fell out into the drain as he watched in horror, his hair getting more and more brittle with time.

He found himself needing to apply makeup on a daily basis as well, before anyone saw him.

Including his own family.

Y/N smiled at the mirror as her makeup artist went to work on her face, ranting about different hobbies and lives that they had.

He wanted that.

His makeup artist frowned at his paler and colorless face, asking him how hard his manager was pushing him. To which he'd reply:

"Eight hundred calories a day." His eyes shut as each bristle brushed his skin. "It's better than before."

But no one could do anything.

Because nobody could defy Mr. Imamura.

—

"Another duo shoot?" You asked, staring at yourself in the mirror.

Muichiro nodded, seeming to be wrapping his thumb and pinky around his wrist before frowning. "For a jewelry brand, I believe."

You weren't dumb. Oblivious, but not dumb. "Why are you measuring your wrist?"

"I do it just to make sure I'm staying in the proper weight range described on my contract." He lied. He'd mastered the art of bullshitting by now. "If I lose or gain too much weight in a certain amount of time, it affects my agreement."

Frowning you walked up to him and pulled his chin down to look at you. "Be honest. What does Mr. Imamura do to you?"

Too bad you missed the way his jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists. "He's just annoying. Always calling me at two in the morning and asking me to come in at six, stuff like that. I'm excited for my contract to end."

Weird... You felt uneasy near Muichiro. Still, you stood next to him in the full-length mirror. "Does this count as a date?"

"If you make it one." Muichiro smirked, hugging you from the back and resting his head on yours. "Fuck, I really am tall compared to you. Y'know, when Yuichiro and I were fourteen, we were both only around one-sixty centimeters. Now look at me."

"Laugh all you want, dumbass." You rolled your eyes. "You're just lucky. And aren't you shorter than Yuichiro?"

"And aren't you a head shorter than me? I think if you sat on my lap you still wouldn't be taller than me." He laughed. "You're like a fucking chihuahua; short and angry. Maybe that's what I should call you."