Parker Raymond recently inherited his estranged grandfather's large plantation home in Savannah, Georgia. The Spanish Moss hanging from the estate's large oaks, its massive gardens, and a near endless bank account were, in the end, not what captured...
Fireworks exploded over Tokyo's largest outdoor Stadium as Ryohei's name faded from the massive overhead screens. He waved once more to the thousands of screaming fans, their sweaty, adoring faces surrounding the stage. He pumped a fist into the air in accomplishment and darted offstage to search for a bottle of water.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Fantastic concert, boss!" his bodyguard shouted as the singer slid up next to him. He handed the exhausted Ryohei a towel.
"Where's my water, Suke?"
"Sorry, boss, they ran out back here. There's supposed to be some in the waiting room, though."
"Damn it...no encore tonight, then. Let's go," Ryohei said with a frown. "They better have cold water waiting on me back there, at least, or I'll have someone's head!"
The large bodyguard rolled his eyes. He was fully aware of his friend's infamous 'big bark, weak bite' affliction. "Right, boss..."
"You did make sure there were no groupies hanging out backstage like I asked...right, big guy? I don't feel like dealing with any of them tonight."
Suke fell silent forcing Ryohei to stop in his tracks. "Well, boss...?"
The pop star put his hands on his hips and looked up at the face of the large embarrassed man looming over him. "Well what?"
"I'm sorry, Ryohei. They made me."
"Who made you do what?" Ryohei inquired.
Suke leaned over and whispered, "the Yakuza."
Ryohei stepped backwards. "Yakuza!?!!"
Suke quickly reached out and placed a large hand over Ryohei's mouth. He nervously looked up and down the backstage hallways to make sure none of the thugs stood nearby. "Shhh!!! They might hear you!"
The singer pulled his bodyguard's fingers from his face as if they were the tentacles of a squid suctioned to a window. "Stop that!"
"You don't understand, Ryohei, they're really Yakuza...tattoos and all. They're armed, too! One of them showed me the handle of his pistol"
"I'm not going to the dressing room, then!" Ryohei exclaimed. "Call my limo!"
Suke emphatically shook his head side-to-side. "No, you have to go! They told me to make sure you got there or..."
"Or what?"
"Don't ask, boss."
"Oh," Ryohei said in understanding. He looked down at his quaking hands and then closed his eyes. "Crap. Alright, let's go..."
