Bright Lights, Big City

Cerulean

But does he know about second breakfast?
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
  1. Look for groups
  2. Looking for partners
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
  2. One post per week
  3. Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
  1. Elementary
  2. Intermediate
  3. Adept
  4. Advanced
  5. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Primarily Prefer Male
Genres
I like most. However, I have found I am most comfortable with Fantasy, Sci-fi, Fandom, and Modern.
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So this was going to be my new city. Tokyo. How he even ended up here was beyond him. Considering the language barrier and the fact he just plain didn't blend in. The only way he could look more like a tourist is if he had a camera and was constantly pointing at the anime billboards. Well, the language barrier wouldn't be too bad. For the most part, he could get by with short English and using things like a pencil and paper. If you ever needed to save a life with Pictionary, Richie would be the guy to go to.

Unfortunately, drawing stick figures wouldn't help him today. The call was so convenient, that if he didn't take the offer, what was coming to him may as well just set up an appointment of its own.

Coming down the alleyway, it seemed there was a group of instrument carrying people going into one of the back doors. The were all huddling down and into an average sized room and then split off into the groups of the people that ended up talking to each other. And since he wasn't in on the arrival that he ended up standing there, by himself. Shit. I didn't get here in time and now I going to be one of the people everyone will be pointing and talking about. Didn't help that he STILL didn't look like he was from around here.

So he waited for the auditions to start...or at least for the manager of this band to come in and just shoo everyone but him out. What was even the band's name? It was something in Japanese and he didn't have a grasp of how to pronounce a damn thing. This was going to be hell.
 
'This is it," She thought as she held the paper addressed to her. 'Amethyst 'Amy' Gray'. She had been invited to try out as a bass player for a band that her father had heard about. Being of mixed decent, she almost rolled her eyes at her situation: She fit in too well. People wouldn't have second guessed her belonging her - all of her mother's fault. Her mother was a Japanese woman who married an Italian American. Almost the only thing she got from her father was a slightly darker skin tone that came because she tanned easily (that no one noticed because she stayed inside most of the time) and her blue eyes.

Amy was born in the US, in some suburb in the middle of almost farmland like area. Even when they moved to Japan, it was more farmland. Being in a huge city like this was almost daunting. So busy all the time. No room. Yet in this busy city, she had a hard time finding something to do. She moved to Japan a during her teens with her parents, but managed to get her own place in Tokyo last year. This was the only place where she could try to make a career playing her bass.

She finally walked into the room where she was supposed to go, when she realized there were a lot of people already here. But she wasn't late: was everyone in this city early? Then someone came in soon after she did: And he was definitely out of place. An eye brow rose and she headed over to him. Yeah, he should be able to speak English.

"Hey, you okay," she asked. English was her natural language: it was the middle ground between her two parents' languages.
 
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He almost wanted to start speaking Spanish, just to fuck with her. However, his better judgement took hold and he smiled. Nodding, he turned towards her. The pronunciation was perfect, or at the very least, it was American. Not that he would have minded, but it was nice to speak to have someone home over to chat.

"Oh yeah, just hanging out until everything gets underway. Seems like a lot of people wanted to try and fill the spots left open. So, how long were you in the States before coming over?" He said knowingly. It made him feel smart, figuring this little tidbit out. I'm smart.

Some of the other hopefuls started eyeing them both. He didn't know if it was judgement or they were just not expecting a couple of Americans to be here. The sparsely lit room didn't look like it was supposed to be used for anything and that it was a last minute "just throw them in there until we need them." There were two sets of double doors on the other side that likely had the final destination. The final resting place of dreams, most likely. He hated that. The idea of a single audition deciding whether or not you have the right career. Most stars aren't even perfect coming out of the flood gate. Now, if he spoke Japanese....

The doorknob began to turn.
 
Amy was going to answer when the doorknob turned. "Oh, well I made it just in time then," she commented with a smile. "I bet they're going to separate us by our instruments to better figure out what their choices are." She turned back to the obvious American. "In bocca al lupo!" She threw in some Italian trying to throw him off. "Hopefully you're not aiming for bass... seeing as that is my instrument."

Okay, so he was right about the States comment. Guess her English gave it away. She tried to spot other Bass players, and shaking her head. Would she be able to stand out in the crowd? Or is she doomed? Why would her father tell her to go to this anyway... She had to admit it, she kind of needed it. Her current job was enough to keep her place, but she really wanted to be making music. Something during the day to help support her nights....
 
The man that entered was wearing a tailored, white suit. Well, at tailors as you can get with a man that size. He looked like an inflated pancake. The only thing distracting him from that was the fact he noticed that she did not answer her question. Got her. However, the language she spoke next was probably one NO ONE else spoke in this room. Assuming it was something nice, Richie smiled. "Oh gosh no, not bass. I am aiming for something much more...vocal."

Just then, the manager called out to them all. "I would like to thank you all for coming. At this time, we would like you to separate by what instrument you play. And if you play more than one, go into a group of your stronger instrument. Vocalists, you get into your own group. Unless, you instrument is stronger. Feel free to do so now. " Of course, this was in Japanese and he didn't have a clue what was going on. All of the hopefuls started to move into groups. For the most part, it looked like it was going by instrument. She was right. The groups were already starting to form, most likely due to them all being all chatty chatty buddy buddy. Richie looked at the group that had he least amount of instruments but most variety. Giving a nod, he leaned against the wall with his case over his legs.

"We are looking for someone who actually has a skill in something, not just some amateur who likes to play around in their garage. That said, you will be coming in by groups to sit in the room and going one at a time. Drummers first."

As probably one of the larger groups went in, his eyes searched for his new buddy. Spotting her, Richie immediately stuck out his tongue and looked away as if nothing happened. he auditions were starting, and they would be noisy. Drummers.
 
Amy was taking in her competition when she noticed that guy just leaning against the wall. He wasn't going to try to mingle at all? Unless... he really didn't speak any Japanese! This made it all the interesting. And did he just-
He did. He stuck out his tongue and then acted as if it were nothing.

Her mouth opened as she laughed a little, then closed it nodding. She turned to one of the other girls near her. "Are you here to sing?" She asked in Japanese, hoping that his 'vocal' comment was referring to the fact he wanted to sing for the band.

The girl nodded. "Yes, I am! I am so nervous!"

"Ah, me too," Amy exclaimed. Perfect, she found someone who could help. "But at least we are doing better than that guy," she said, motioning to the American.

"Why do you say that," the girl responded, looking at him.

"I don't think he speaks Japanese." She hoped that this would encourage the girl to help the poor American. And from the looks of it, it worked. The other girl looked at him sadly, as if she felt like he was a lost puppy. The girl then left Amy to go talk to him. Satisfied of a job well done, Amy went over some practices scales and fingers in her head, working on nailing the audition.

The girl headed over 'The American'. "Hi. Are you here to sing," She asked in slightly broken English.

Amy couldn't help but smirk. Job well done.
 
He was having his fun and decided that he would behave for now. The sounds of a drummer drumming were starting to be heard from the door. Auditions were beginning to pick pretty quickly, and it gave him a rush of excitement and nervousness. Don't freeze up. Don't freeze up. You can do this. His blue eyes grew more sensitive and they barely seen the American Asian motioning to him. The expression on his face suggested arousal of suspicion, and as the girl came over to him, he squinted at the now troll of a woman.

But the girl that came over was seemed really nice and Richie wouldn't dare treat anyone with any less compassion than they would show him. So he smiled, and nodded. "I am. I also have this case, which has my little piano in it." He said, patting the side. "Oh! Well, that girl over there--" She points to Amy, to which Richie squinted jokingly at again. "--said that you might not speak Japanese. Is this true?" He nodded again. "Aw, you poor thing. I can help you. I will translate any Japanese for you, ok?" Her voice was massively adorable, which didn't help anything. As much as the situation felt sudden, he could not deny that it would be all too arrogant to say no. "Of course, thank you very much."


The girl's face lit up and she started leaning against the wall next to him. She herself had a case that was shaped into a guitar. "So what do you play?" He asked. "Oh, just a little guitar. I think the word is...acoustic?" Richie quickly nodded, smiling. This girl's English wasn't perfect but she certainly had no issue carrying on a conversation with him. Heck, he might even try to get her number...and maybe even the troll's number. He could use the contacts.

By this point, a few of the drummers had exited the basement. There were mixed reactions. Must be they were telling them all that they would contact them as a lot of American business do for job interviews. Some of them just knew they weren't going to get the call.
 
Amy rolled her eyes, squint at her all he wanted, she helped the sore thumb out. And she watched them from her side view, and saw that they were talking comfortably. Maybe a little too comfortably, but hey, she heard American men tended to like Asian women. And that girl that was talking to him apparently liked his type as well. It worked. For now.
She shook her head trying to focus on something - anything else - as she tried to interact. She got into a mini discussion about different methods of strumming, but mostly she kept her eye on the door that the drummers went through.

One by one they left and none of them seemed to have an exact reaction proclaiming they had been told something extraordinary. There were more delusioned ones and dejected ones more than anything. Amy grabbed her bass's case and started to mess with it a little bit, wondering what would be next. What kind of process would this be and how would they chose? Did they want the hard core rocker type, the quiet but steady type, or the overly cute girl who you wouldn't believe she was good at bass until she had a solo. If it was the overly cute type, she might have been screwed. But it also seemed like there weren't many female bass players; mostly male. That could work in her favor.

She smiled, as she realized she was enjoying this atmosphere. It was a nice change from her quiet and secluded type of lifestyle. Maybe some of these people had the right idea; make some friends, trade some phone numbers, and maybe keep up some social interactions after this experience.

She had a few guys try to talk to her, but as much as she tried, they kind of bored her. They weren't... odd. Like the tourist who was still talking to the 'cute girl' that Amy sent his direction. She almost gave in to talk to them when more people came out. She took this time to study them to see if any reactions had changed.
 
Soon enough the man in the white came out and requested any guitarists but not bass. At least, that is what the gal said before smiling and going in. She was really nice and had hobbies that included drawing and yoga. Dedication was a word to describe her, as she had taken off from a waitress job a few blocks away. There was a very bubbly, yet peaceful vibe about her. They would get along very well, as band mates and maybe even as friends. Surely, many tips went her way.

The room was getting more and more empty with maybe ten or so left. It became more and more obvious that she was trying to keep track of him. And it didn't look like he was the only one who wanted to get in a few words edgewise. Of course, it was all Japanese but body language was something almost anyone can pick up on. As more sounds of music called from the door, the tourist made his way back over to the girl. "Somehow, I think they wanted more than just your advice for the audition." He said, with a light hearted smile. A warm hand reached out to her.

"I'm Richie, in case you were curious."
 
Amy laughed at his straightforwardness. "They may have, but just unsure about how to ask. I could never be sure. My radar seems to be off recently." She accepted his hand easily and shook it as she was taught. "And I'm 'Amy'." she said, giving air quotes. She always had to do it that way, because she used a nickname. She nodded towards the people going out.

"Doesn't seem like anyone is quite that hopeful or flat out got it. I wonder if they are going to drag it along and leave people wondering for weeks or if they are going to end the pain after a few days," she commented. She was starting to get a little nervous, because it didn't seem like anyone really got a reaction that just screamed 'they had a chance'. She bit her lip, wondering if she should really be trying.
She knew she had to, otherwise she'd never get in a band. But the wait was what killed her most.

She looked back at Richie, trying to size him up. "Well, drummers and guitarists already went in. I don't see you carrying a bass, so I am assuming you are going for vocal."
Okay, small talk may not be her best talent, but hey, she was trying.
 
A smile was given, when the airquotes came out. "Is Amy a fake name? Is that why you used the airquotes? You have a secret identity hm?" Richie made a silly face at her. The irony being that he actually DOES have a secret identity. It was part of the reason he wanted to come to Japan. No one could know who he was. Though, put of him sees the irony that he now lives in a place he could be picked out of a crowd from a mile away. Good thing he has the cool visor. But he decided to drop the identity subject, because he actually had something to hide.

"I suppose it depends on whether or not you get the spot. If they choose you, I don't think they would make you wait. The rest of the fish just kind of...swim off. Some might try to call back and try to up their standing but I am not really sure if that actually works unless they are indecisive and the person calling happens to be in the running anyways." He shrugged and looked over to her lip biting. It was kind of hot, if he was honest, but now isn't the time to get naughty if she was feeling off.

When she looked back, his gaze didn't move very much. His eyes were merely watching hers as they seemed to scan him for information. "Vocals and piano." He said simply, before tapping the case. "So uh....you all about that bass then?" He said, keeping a straight face and blinking.
 
Amy's mouth fell open, then she turned her head trying not to laugh, and failing miserably. She covered her mouth as her shoulders shook. "I cannot believe you actually said that. Oh my God..." she understood his reference sadly, because when she first started to hear about the song, she had to listen to find out what the big deal was. And now and then it would get stuck in her head.

It was a curse.

Once she regained herself a bit, she tried to come up with a come back, and ended up shaking her head. "I admit defeat. I cannot think of a single thing to counter that comment. Ben fatto. ((Good job.)) There is more to you than what meets the eyes Richie. And to answer prior question, My real name is Amethyst. It is horrid and weak sounding and girlie. It would be fine if I was some cheerleader that dated a quarterback, not a bass player. I can get away with Amy." Funnily enough, she did have another name she went by at night, but it was her secret that no one was to find out about. It was a way to make a positive difference in the world without being targeted. She was able to have her 'normal life' and she intended to keep it that way.

She started to fidget, wishing she could get over the nerves, but it wasn't working. "You'll have to keep entertaining me, because my nerves are starting to get at me American."
 
As soon as she reacted, his expression broke into and smile and small chuckle. Now it was playing in his head too, but the joke was on her. He actually liked that song. Richie began humming the beat a bit before she began to speak again. His arm raised as the bass player admitted defeat. A great victory was had today. I would like to thank my mom and my little dog Fluffy. And of course she threw in more...whatever the hell she was speaking besides English. "Ah, I see. Surely, there are plenty of worse names it could have been. If it makes you feel better, I did play football in high school. Not quarterback but you can't get everything you want in life." He said laughing, before realizing that he basically just suggested that they could/should date. Oops. "You could always use a fake name, like Slash or Rodney Dangerfield."

Amy was looking more and more nervous with her body language and Richie could see it. Perhaps, if he distracted her that the nerves would go away. "I'd be happy too, perhaps over dinner?" He said, will a curious eye brow raise.

At this point some of the guitarists had left and the helpful girl had come over to him. "I am sorry, I do have to go back to my job. Perhaps we will meet again?" He said, touching his arm. "Sure thing." "Great!" She exclaimed before running off. Blinking a bit he could feel that she had put something on his arm. Reaching, the singer pulled off the little piece of paper and found that it had the following: Muramoto Hasumi 010-222-3987. And it had a "<3" Before doing anything else, he quickly put it into his pocket. He now felt silly as Amy had not given him an answer yet. But before she could, the man came out again.

"Bass players, please."
 
Amy let out a sigh of relief. The sooner she had the audition, the better she would feel. She heard the football player part; she was going to comment that it was a good thing she wasn't a cheerleader. But before she finally worked out her answer, he asked about dinner. She was going to answer him by saying sure, but the girl from before come over back to him, practically ignoring her. Amy shouldn't have been surprised, but she thought she'd at least get some sort of acknowledgement. She was the one who recommend the tiny girl go talk to him.

Fine. Whatever.

And she went ahead and - really. She hadn't seen that method of passing numbers. But she got a glimpse of the note to confirm what was on it. She shook her head, as if submitting. "Looks like you have a date for dinner already. I'll see you around American. Good luck," she stated as she grabbed her case and headed in to audition. It was to be expected, right? American guys go for the cute tiny Asian girl that seemed nice and shy. Not a slightly mouthy version like her.

And she headed into audition. She should thank that other girl; her nerves were gone. Now she was in the perfect mood to beat all of her competition.

Before she knew it, it was over. She was breathing slightly heavier than she was, but it was because she put on one heck of a performance. She felt as if she nailed it. She could see something in their eyes when they shook her hand to tell her that she'd get a call if she got it.

Oh yes, she did very well. She put on her charming smile as she gave a slight shy good bye, to show them she could be charming as well and packed up her bass.

As she walked out, she took a deep breath of air, glad to be out of there. Don't get her wrong, it was fun, but the nerves and air sucking of others worrying made the freedom out here appreciated. They were going to call vocals soon and she knew he'd be heading in. But for all she knew, he was chatting up someone else.

It made her slightly bitter, and wondered why she even cared, but continued on her way.
 
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It actually made him feel a little bit down, watching her walk away. Can I not chose who I do or do not have a dinner date with? Of course, if it is a date then he believed that dating more than one person is okay. It's when any relationship gets deeper that it would turn bad if there was more than one person in the picture. Not that it mattered, because she was gone and a chance to try and see her was lost. After all, she said see you around without ever giving him a clue where they could ever meet. Maybe, he was over thinking this. Most likely, he was.

Breathing, he just leaned against the wall in a room full of people that didn't look like the chatting type. The powerful bassists were going up and he wondered which one was hers. There was one in particular that stand out and he hoped that it was Amy. When they all started to come out, Richie stopped slouching. He felt the need to correct what had happened and now wanted to squint at Muramoto.

"Amy." He said, when she had come out. No one was even around him. "I feel as though we got off on the wrong foot here and I want to make it up to you. Would you wait for me to be finished and we can talk? Please?"

Again, the man in white came out and starting to look more flustered by the minute. "Vocalists, please."

"I am guessing that is me but..." He didn't move. His eyes were locked onto hers.
 
To be honest, she was surprised that he came and talked to her before heading in. She had thought he'd try to talk up someone else, but she had to admit she was flattered that he was trying. She was going to answer when she heard the man in white call out:

"Vocalists, please."

She assumed he'd walk away, but he didn't. He kept eye contact. Was he serious? He could possibly miss this call just waiting for her answer. "Ah, yeah. Sure. I'll wait," she said, nodding her head. She was a bit flustered, for his defined attention was quite a very bold move on his part. "I'll wait, but don't miss out on this. Go," she said, motioning towards the door. "I'll wait right where you ere. I promise."

She started to move towards the same spot he had been.
 
His eyes seemed to light up, along with a nice smile. "Then, I'll be right back. I have an audition to crush."

With that, he slipped by and disappeared behind the doors. Various instruments and singers could be heard but none that were using the piano. One by one the other candidates did their best and then left the room. He would normally have a bit more of a guard up but it seems he already had someone in his corner. The man in white. When Richie still lived in the United States, he heard him play at a coffeeshop and give him a card. Two missed calls, a text, and 12 minute phone conversation later, the American was packing his things for Toyoko. The man in white, nodded and off he went.


When it was over he got same speel, except in perfect english. The other band members were talking among themselves as he packed his things and left. The first thing on his mind now was Amy. Would she still be there? He opened the door to find out.
 
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Amy hadn't realized that she could actually hear some of the auditions from where she was and looked at the door in shock. Richie heard her audition? But he wouldn't know which one was her... but she could possibly hear him. She listened carefully, and remembered he had said something about also playing piano. No one had done anything like that, but then one did come.
And she gasped.
The voice was awesome. It was touching and she found that she enjoyed it a lot. And it was with a piano! Was it- could it be?

When he walked out, it was confirmed. He was the ONLY one who played piano. She couldn't help but smile when she saw him. "I can't believe it! You were fantastic!" she said, not realizing how insulting that could be. But her mind was far from it. "No wonder you stayed right here. But seriously, that was perfect. I am officially impressed. If you don't get called, I would be surprised because I don't think anyone was nearly as good as you were."
 
Oh god. She certainly stayed and now she had him blushing and feeling like a shy school boy. Amy had heard him and somehow that was bringing out some shyness. Richie didn't have a clue of what to say next. Redness had overtaken his face, much like it did when he was a young wee boy singer. Even to this day, he often was self-conscious about the singing. The piano was easy. You could almost always expect a piano to be in tune. It's just up to the player to press the right keys for the intended sound. But voice...voice is a whole nother game. You have to worry about diet, emotion, technique, and all these other stuff that can even make a voice way better than his crumble.

"T-Thank you, Amy. I am glad you liked it." His eyes didn't even meet her now. It was if the collected attitude/bravado got turned on its head.

"Forgive me for my current bashfulness." Richie spoke softely. "Singing, for me, is like stripping down to my most naked anyone could possibly be. Clothes are gone, but so are my walls. I become an open book and vulnerable for an audience. It's the only way I can function as a musician."

Slowly, his eyes moved to meet her expression. "You mind if we get out of here and find something to eat? I have an odd feeling...it might be hunger...or maybe its you making me want to eat." He chuckled motioning to the door.
 
She was surprised at how he described it. She had never heard of anyone admitting to putting themselves out there in such a fashion. She could understood, because it sort of felt similar when she played bass, but it was refreshing to hear someone else say it that way. She automatically nodded her head at his suggestion.

"How would I make you want to eat," she finally asked, not thinking of anything else to say. Amy just tried to think of anything, but Richie caught her off guard. Again. He just was so different than anyone else, and it was refreshing. Even if he was kind of a player. "Where do you want to go?"

She brushed her hair back over her shoulders so it wouldn't be in the way, maintaining a normal appearance. But honestly, she was a little nervous. Usually when she was asked out it didn't effect her. She knew what to expect, and pretty much found the experience kind of dull. But with him who knows what will happen. The only thing that bothered her was the number he kept in his pocket from that other girl. Amy regretted sending over that girl earlier. Honestly, she thought she was helping but it kind of made her jealous instead.

She made sure her case was securely on her back so that no damage would come to her bass before facing Richie again. She was kind of waiting to see what he said next. Plus, she had to admit, what he said was kind of hot.