Airhead

Part 1

Airhead: Part 1

Oh those journalists, they were quicker at catching Yamanaka Ino drunk in the Congo than the entire United States were at finding Osama bin Laden. She tugged her ear and found that the source of her pain was due to do the ridiculously heavy and overpriced earring she was wearing and flung it off. It wasn't like she could find the other pair either (probably lost it on the beach). She frowned as the news was replaying once more, showing her in a light she would never want anyone to see her in – on a wall-sized screen no doubt. Ino actually cringed at the girl on-screen, hair fanned behind her as she giggled and imitated a vain celebrity that she knew and then, to her steadily growing mortification, she offered a striptease. Thankfully at this point, the camera's veered away from the screen to go back to the newsreader and some other clips of her on the catwalk. Ino was just glad that she had spotted the camera in time and had stopped stripping before she could really embarrass herself.

She hadn't even managed to get some water into her system when her mobile phone bleated rudely. Ino's face paled as she checked the caller ID and it spoke of a number she could never ignore. Her dad.

"Hello dad, I miss-"

"Yamanaka Ino," Came the icy voice on the other end, devoid of any of its usual warmth or even exasperation.

When he said her full name like that, the blonde girl knew she was in trouble.

"So... you've watched the news... huh?" The words were out before she could stop them and she couldn't even make them sound apologetic or anything. It almost sounded like she was proud of the stunt she was pulling on the cameras. Why did she do this to herself? Was she secretly a masochist and enjoyed receiving punishment?

What time was it even in Japan? How did the media get around the world so fast?! Why was her dad even up at that hour?

"I want you back home in Japan. Cancel any photoshoots you have, any magazine interviews, any catwalks, anything. Come home right now."

And the phone went dead. No 'I love you's or 'I miss you's or anything like that were traded, her father had just ordered her to return home right now. She was actually more than a little terrified. Her father had spoken only once this harshly to her, that was when she and Sakura had got into this terrible fight at school during Science class (chairs were flung, books were torn, ties were ripped up, beakers smashed... you know, just to put it lightly), but she hadn't felt quite so bad because the girls had rekindled their friendship during detention. That had been worth it. Right now though, there didn't seem to be any silver linings in her schedule at all. She didn't bother telling her personal organiser that she was taking a flight back to Japan, let them suffer because it was their job to organise all the chaos that had occurred last night but they hadn't done any damage control. But if she knew what was waiting for her back home, she would have quite happily taken residence in the Tora Bora Mountains herself (provided they had hot, running water).

"WHAT?! YOU HAVE GOT TO BE JOKING!" Ino screeched, standing up as she glared hotly at her father. She had never shouted at him like this, never met his eyes when he had been quite that furious, but his punishment was just so ridiculous, she couldn't quite believe it.

"I'm very serious," Inoichi replied in a serious voice. To show how serious he was.

Malachite eyes met the stern green ones of her father and she tossed her long hair behind her shoulder, showing exactly how much of a diva she had become in the almost-two year absence she had left school to become a super model.

...

"I understand, some of it is my fault," her father began, keeping his gaze evenly on her but suddenly, it became wearier. "If only I had stopped you from signing that ridiculous contract at sixteen, then you wouldn't have become a model."