Pop Rock Love (4 page)

Track #3

Mimi woke up the next morning
and sighed loudly. This wasn’t how Tokyo was supposed to be. She had always
imagined Tokyo to be some sort of dream city where she’d find her muse. But
instead, she felt trapped, stuck in some dictator’s house.

“Why the sigh? Are you
alright?” someone asked. Mimi looked around and was shocked to see an elderly
lady in her bedroom, holding a broom.

“Ah... No, it’s nothing,” Mimi
mumbled, looking at her, “By any chance, are you the housekeeper?”

The elderly lady smiled and
bowed politely. “Ah, I’m sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. Yes, I am the
part-time maid. Mr Sato has left for the day. You can call me Yamada. Nice to
meet you,” said Yamada. She was likely to be in her fifties, had grey curly
hair and was of a small built. Mimi smiled back. “Thank you, my name is Mimi.”

“Mimi, nice to meet you. Can
you walk around with that leg? I usually come here to clean a few times a week.
But Mr Sato has asked me to come here everyday to take care of you. He is such
a kind man.”

“What?” Mimi stuttered in
disbelief.

“Did you say something?” Yamada
asked, looking at her rather concerned.

“Don’t worry about me, I can
walk around with my crutches.”

“I made a little breakfast.
Please have some if you like.”

“Thank you,” Mimi replied.
Yamada bowed again and then left to continue her cleaning chores in the living
room. Mimi cautiously got out of bed and limped to the bathroom. She noticed a
bathtub in the toilet and wondered how she could take a bath with her leg
bandaged up. She turned to the mirror and her glum reflection looked back at
her. She wanted to go home. Maybe she should really just pack up and head home.
Mimi looked down at the sink and saw a newly wrapped toothbrush and toothpaste
set. It was probably the work of Yamada, she thought, as she opened the plastic
wrapper.

The elderly lady was setting
the dining room table when Mimi got out of her room. “Yamada,” she said, slowly
making her way to the table with her crutches, “Thank you for the toothbrush.”

“Hmm?” she looked up in
surprise, “No, Mr Sato didn’t tell me to get any for you? Would you be needing
any? You might need to wait a while because the last time I checked, there were
no spare ones here.”

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it.
I already have my set.” She sat down and saw that Yamada had prepared salmon
teriyaki with rice.

“Yamada, this looks delicious!
Thank you! Itadakimasu!” she cried, clapping her hands together.

“Don’t mention it.” Yamada
smiled. The delicious breakfast helped to lift Mimi’s spirits and she made a
firm resolution to stop her whining. Maybe with the extra time, she can compose
some new songs, or even write a book during this one month of rest. “Thank you
for the meal!” she said, after gobbling up the last grain of rice.

Everyday Sato arrived at his
office in Niji Building by 8 am. He would have his espresso (three shots,
strong) while studying the day’s schedule. He knew that in order to be creative
he needed to be systematic. The press called him the “King Midas” of the
Japanese rock world because he knew what kind of music worked and what didn’t
and he had the skill to tweak something good to something great. Major
recording labels wanted him on their side, but he chose to stay at Niji Records
for personal reasons. He had barely taken a sip of coffee when his office phone
started ringing. At the other end was a rather frazzled band manager. “Mr Sato,
we have an emergency at the studio. Shuji won’t start recording till he sees
you.”

“Tell Shuji he can quit if he’s
not happy with something. I am not at his beck-and-call.”

“Mr Sato, please it’s an
emergency,” the manager whimpered pathetically.

“I will be there in ten
minutes,” answered Sato as he banged the receiver down. He made his way to the
basement where Filth was in the recording studio. He entered the studio and saw
the band manager, Kiku, sitting down with his face in his hands. The members of
Filth were scattered around the room – some leaning against the wall,
some sitting down with their guitars, all looking rather down.
  

“What was so important that I
had to be dragged down here?” asked Sato coldly, staring at the people in the
room. Holding on to a stack of paper, Shuji, leader and lead vocals of the band
stood up and faced him. Dressed in a loose t-shirt and skinny plaid jeans,
Shuji had light brown shoulder length hair with red highlights, presently tied
back into a small ponytail. Without his stage make-up, he could probably pass
off for anyone in Harajuku. Yet Sato and Shuji himself knew that his voice was
the real deal.

“I do not like what you did
with the song. It’s not what we originally wanted it to be like,” said Shuji,
throwing down the stack of sheet music. Sato stared at the 24-year-old and said
calmly, “I am getting a little sick of your dramatics. If you want to go, just
go. Just because you’ve achieved a little level of fame, you think you’re so
great now? Well, the door is just right there. Go back to your livehouse days
when you and your band were only making 5000 yen per night. Or, you can go to
some major recording company where not only will they completely change your
sound but also everything about you.”

Shuji bit his lower lip and
stayed quiet. Sato looked around the room and added, “This is way too early in
the day to be dealing with a couple of ingrates. Kiku, you are fired. The rest
of you can reflect on your actions. If you don’t want to record then don’t.
It’s your career, not mine.”

Kiku crumbled to the floor as
Sato stormed out.

Mimi was on her bed strumming
her guitar when the house phone rang. Yamada went to answer it. “Hello?”

“Yamada, how is she doing?”
asked Sato.

“Oh, Mimi? She is doing fine.
She has a good appetite.”

“What is she doing now?”

Yamada glanced over at Mimi,
“She is sitting on her bed and strumming her guitar, I think. Mr Sato, would
you like to speak to her?”

“It’s okay. Please prepare some
dinner for me. I’ll be home early.”

“Alright,” said Yamada, trying
to contain her surprise. He hasn’t been back for dinner for months now.

“Was that Sato?” Mimi asked.

“Yes it is. He said that he
will be back for dinner.”

Mimi shrugged and got back to
strumming her guitar. She had music sheets strewn across her bed and had been
working on a song for weeks now. It was a fast rock track.

Mimi started singing the first
verse,

“Maybe... One day I’ll forget your face. Forget what it was
like. Sitting beside you. Being by your side. Maybe... I’ll forget your voice.
And how you’ll sometimes just break into a song, or tell me your stories.
Always with so much energy... Maybe...”

She stopped playing at that
point and pouted. That was all she got now. Mimi jumped a little when she
suddenly saw Yamada, just inches away, peering intently at her. “I’m sorry, I
may have been a little loud. My songs are usually rather noisy,” Mimi explained
sheepishly, scratching her head.

“No, I thought it was a very
good song. You must sing it to Mr Sato. He will love it.”

“No, no! I just do this for
fun. Don’t bother him about it.”

Yamada nodded and said, “I
understand. Please excuse me, I will be cleaning in Mr Sato’s room upstairs if
you need me.”

Mimi picked up a pencil and
tried to write another line. This was useless, she thought, throwing the pencil
away in frustration. She scratched her head and knew that it was impossible to
focus on her music when images of a certain wavy-haired guy kept appearing in
front of her.
 
Now that she knew who
Yuki was – it seemed even harder to find him. It was hard enough trying
to stop herself from bursting into tears whenever she thought about him.

Suddenly she heard a strange
ringing sound coming from the kitchen. Mimi took hold of her crutches and
limped over to the kitchen. Yamada’s mobile phone was ringing on the table.

“Yamada, your phone...” Mimi
said, clutching on to the phone. The ringing stopped abruptly. She looked at
the phone’s wallpaper and yelped in surprise.

Yamada hurried down the stairs.
“I’m sorry, you didn’t have to bother about it. I will call the person back.”

“Yamada, are you a fan of the
Fire Boys?” Mimi asked, staring at Yamada’s mobile phone. Its wallpaper flashed
a picture of the Fire Boys. In fact, they looked similar to the music video she
saw previously, except that they were dressed in black sparkly suits for this
one.

Yamada’s entire face lit up and
her eyes sparkled. “Mimi, you know them? They are such nice boys, always so
kind to us older folks too.” The 50-year-old woman spoke in a hushed tone, “Actually,
this is not a widespread fact but Sato is related to one of them.”

“What! Which one?” Mimi asked,
feeling a surge of panic. If she answers Yuki, I have to run away now.

Yamada pointed to the member
with shaggy brown hair on her phone’s wallpaper, “Jiro, they are half-brothers.
But I don’t think they are close. Sato doesn’t even mention him and they never
stayed together. Only true fans know about it.” She puffed out her chest in
pride, for being defined as a “true fan”. Yamada continued, “Anyway I took this
job thinking I’ll see Jiro around often, but in the two years I’ve worked here,
I’ve never even saw him once.”

“I see...” Mimi muttered,
wondering what this new revelation meant.

“But Mimi, I thought you were
more into rock. I am quite surprised you like them.”

“What? No no, I’ve heard of
them, that’s all. Here’s your phone,” Mimi said hurriedly and retired to her
bedroom. Maybe she should take a nap, thought Mimi, lying on the pillows. She
can treat this as a long vacation. She told herself that there was no point
worrying about the thousand and one “what ifs”. Mimi shut her eyes and before
she knew it, drifted off to sleep.

She found herself in a scene
from her memory. She was in Singapore and was running to meet Yuki at the
subway station. She finally found him decked out in a purple tee and jeans and
a black beanie, waiting for her patiently. “Hey, sorry I’m late, have you been
waiting long?” she panted, exhausted from her run.

He shook his head and said,
“Don’t worry about it. Are you okay?”

Mimi waved her hand
nonchalantly and asked, “So where do you want to go today? You want to visit
Chinatown? Go shopping at Orchard Road? Visit the zoo?” Mimi asked, gesturing
wildly.

“I want to see the Merlion,” he
replied.

“What? I don’t understand why
the Japanese love the Merlion so much. It’s weird-looking.”

“It’s cute,” he said seriously.

“You know I haven’t even been
to the Merlion Park before. But since you are a tourist here. I’ll take you
there.” They boarded the subway and sat next to each other.

“Mimi, I have a question!” he
asked.

“Yes?”

“Can I work at Sakura?”

“Why? Don’t you have English
classes?”

“Classes end by noon. I just
thought that it would be fun. I can mix drinks!” Yuki said brightly.

“Are you sure? I can’t really pay
you much. I don’t even pay my own brother when he helps out at the bar. Maybe I
can include food as payment... Oh wait, we have to get off at the next stop!”
Mimi said suddenly, looking around.

Yuki smiled and said, “Don’t
worry. I just need your company,” He reached out and held her hand as they got
off the train.

Mimi never allowed people get
close to her easily. But with him, all her barriers were torn down. She often
wondered why. Maybe deep inside Mimi knew that he would leave her soon.

Yuki was soon working at Sakura
every night. Mimi had to admit that she felt bad for not paying the poor guy.
But he flatly refused any monetary pay she offered. Her brother Roy, didn’t
seem too happy about the new employee.