Rating: M (there's a first time for everything :P)

Genre: Drama (my favourite fanfiction genre to write…angst is overrated :P)

Summary: Embark on a small journey into the fragile lives of those believed to have it all. Behind the cameras, monsters on the inside. But you might know them better as celebrities. AU, KaiTal, ReiBry, BrookBry, TyHil, anti-ReiMar.

Warnings: violence, drug use, sex, rape, mature themes, character death, and Kai's minor antagonism (it's difficult to explain, but you'll see what I mean later on)

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade, nor do I own any of the recognisable characters featured in this story.

In no way do I promote any of the ideas presented in these chapters. I write with the sole purpose of entertaining and have no intention of spreading immoral ideas. This story is simply a reflection on what I believe to be the attitude of today's society in general. I will not accept any abuse related to the themes written in the following fanfiction.

(A/N): So here it is, the fic I was very indecisive about for quite a while, but finally got it all written and so I guess it's time to post it. Having reached the intermission of Do Svidanya, I'm sort of taking a break from writing. This is my vacation; I've basically written it for me and didn't even attempt to write it well. I just thought up plots and wrote to get them carried out.

Still, I hope you like it :D

Oh also, the title of the fic isn't mine, it's the name of a song by a band my half-cousin used to be in called Her Words Kill. Their music's pretty good but they're not together anymore. Anyway, the title is the name of a song, and each chapter title consists of lyrics from that song, which still manage to fit with each chapter in their own way.

Character List: (also shows age)

Tala (25)- the current fashion icon

Kai (32)- a widely-known agent and producer

Rei (28)- an actor, retired young

Mariah (27)- Rei's wife, an actress past her prime

Lin (6)- Rei and Mariah's daughter (minor appearances)

Bryan (23)- a rock star

Brooklyn (23)- Bryan's psychotic band-mate and boyfriend

Max (32)- a renowned lawyer

Ming-Ming (16)- a young, new pop singer trying to make her dream career happen

Hilary (24)- a gorgeous movie star

Tyson (24)- Hilary's dim-witted husband, and a sports star

(Tyson and Hilary don't have any actual roles within the plotlines of this story. They appear at the very beginning and end, and act as a sort of template for other celebrities).

Italics are memories, thoughts or any sort of dream. Bold are headlines or any form of magazine print.

Enjoy!

Love on the Catwalk

By StZen

Chapter 1

The Only One who Steals Your Eyes

'And the winner for Most Outstanding Actress is…Hilary Kinomiya!'

She made her way over to the stage, and sound barriers shattered all over the world. A charming smile plastered on her face, she kissed the host once on each cheek, and stepped up to the podium, another priceless award glinting gold with the warm light which shone upon them both. Her beautiful brown eyes scanned her phenomenal audience and she smiled at the enthusiasm still being shown in their applause. How familiar it had all become over the years; the podium felt much like a seventh home to her now.

Still flashing pearly white teeth, her voice calmed the still ecstatic audience who truly wished to hear it.

'You are too kind,' was her humble opening, 'all of you. It is an honour to, again, receive such an award as this one. And I have every one of you to thank for this. So thankyou, thankyou very much'.

Another round of applause initiated and managed to drag itself on for another few minutes. But the epitome of magnificence had yet to bring an end to her acceptance speech.

'I should also like to say a few words about my husband, who couldn't be with us tonight due to his injury' she paused to issue a soft, sad smile before carrying on. 'However, if I know my husband, he's firmly implanted into the settee at this very moment, feet propped up comfortably, watching me accept this award on the television. And I'd just like to say, that without his help and support, nothing would be possible' she paused again. 'Tyson, I love you. Thankyou for the hope you've given me'.

Once again, the ovation was enough to shake the structure of the building. As Hilary Kinomiya stepped to the floor, women and men of all ages watch with awe. He was so lucky. She was so lucky. The two of them possessed everything that could ever be asked for. And yet it was believed even if they had nothing, eachother would be enough for them. That was what they said. How disappointed the athlete must have been at being unable to share in his wife's joy; how grateful she must be to him regardless of his absence.

Even a few minutes after the enthusiasm had been contained, and the host had begun to introduce another award, the camera stayed fixated on her.

The universe, it seemed, was at bay.

xXx

Skin of milk, without trace of a flaw. Eyes of topaz that never refused to shine. Seventeen and fabulous; he was beautiful then. The road to his future was wide open in those days. Long past learning from the mistakes of his youth, this time he felt he was ready for anything. A brand new day; what a revelation. Time to let go of everything he'd been before, time to be the way he'd always wanted.

He had been born a star. Never had he met a boy who could match himself, and they all knew it as well as he did. Some would never accept it, but that was life. Nobody could deny it, regardless of how often they tried.

Every shutter sound was paradise; every camera flash the eye of heaven opening up to him. The flawless photographs granted him the fame he always knew he deserved. A star waiting for his time to shine, was Tala Ivanov. And sooner or later, it was up to everybody else to figure that out for themselves. The red-headed youth lost the public in his eyes. Agencies crawled to him. His pale features of perfection lit the streets of New York in every season. It seemed he was the very thing they'd all been looking for. Publicity had sought him out.

In those days when he looked in the mirror, he couldn't help but allow for a smirk of pride to escape his painted lips. This belonged to him. The object of perfection it seemed the world was after; he had full claim over it. A body so slender it put many female models out of business, a visage so beautiful every fashion magazine wanted it to represent them. Legs able to walk impeccably in any style of platform. He was the full package.

Everything ran smooth in those days. No bad habits, no pessimism. Little to dampen his mood, nothing to alter his opinion on himself. The true definition of a diamond in the ruff. Seventeen and fabulous. He was beautiful then.

The present day Tala Ivanov took another long drag of the death-inflicting stick held against his thin lips with pale, bony fingers. Letting his bottom lip sag slightly lower, he watched as the wisps of white smoke circled in front of his eyes. Without being consciously aware of it, his gaze had transfixed itself onto a peculiar stain of deep brown, which could have been mistaken for coffee had it not been spread over most of the wall.

His mind had wandered into the depths of his oh-so fabulous past while watching the awards show on the miniscule television perched on his dressing table. Eyes previously glued to the set like the stain on the wall, Tala had watched the beautiful Hilary Kinomiya accept her award and it had injected a sudden burst of nostalgia into his brain. It made him remember himself, the way he was as a younger man. A man of far more confidence, though he never let show his true lack of poise. It was the headlines that did it. Cruel, needles accusations and judgements. Tala thought they were nobody to judge him, and so firmly believed that even they knew their lack of worth, deep down.

He abruptly put an end to his reverie and averted his eyes to look back to the television set. The commercials were running. He promptly switched the whole thing off.

Taking another puff and picking an eyelash from the inner corner of his eye, Tala faintly wondered how he was to pass the time he had to spare. A couple of hours yet before his next photo shoot, and he couldn't bear to spend another minute in the horrendously dreary dressing room he was currently situated in.

It was so dirty and uncared for it illuminated itself entirely in a stale yellow hue. Tala swore he could almost taste the musk and turned towards the stained mirror in a vain attempt to be rid of the sensation. The reflective glass was sitting right in front of him, and yet all the while he'd been averting his eyes from the possibility of catching sight of his own reflection.

Amongst his still vivid red hair, the most striking feature was still his frozen blue eyes. It was very fortunate for him that he hadn't lost these features, as well as his high cheekbones and soft skin of snow, save for the dressing room lighting making him appear wan and sickly. Tala felt that in this light, his eyes almost looked hazel. And yet he knew that dimming the bulbs situated around the perimeter of the mirror before him would only plunge him into darkness. He deliberated the sallow atmosphere would be the better of the two.

Before finally averting his eyes, the beauty icon took one long look at himself through the outer coating of dust and finger prints. It was plain to see, at a glance, the reasons for his recognition and success. And at the same time, it was plain to see the reasons why he had begun to lag behind himself over the years since his prime. For his eyes still flashed with the same intense attitude behind them, the very same which always made them look at him. He still caught their attention. And yet, beneath the pools of melted topaz lay a hollow area of deep purple skin. The imperfection. The result of too many sleepless nights, too many pills to force him into sleep and keep him awake, and a record breaking number of cigarettes smoked every single day.

He inhaled more smoke from the thing he knew was doing him more harm than good, and took another good, hard look. Makeup could cover the imperfections caused by the smoke, but what could ever replace them? Over the years they'd become a lifeline to him. It didn't matter he'd once sworn never to touch them; he still knew what they could do to him. The difference was he simply didn't care anymore.

A long strand of hair fell before his eye, but Tala made no effort to remove it. Instead he continued to gaze beyond the red, his eyes travelling from his face to his bony shoulders and thin arms. Smoke didn't have an affect on the skin he showed beneath the fabric; having stayed away from the sun almost his entire life, this form of pale could rival the feathers of a dove. He smiled softly, cigarette sticking out from the corner of his pale lips; they could never get enough of this. Still each and every magazine would marvel at the skin they could show with their designs. He was quite literally a blank canvas. He'd put tanning out of business.

But though he was still wanted for his unusual splendour, the public's relationship with Tala Ivanov was very much of the love-hate sort. And sometimes the red-head had allowed society's vindictive comments on his apparent anorexia to affect his way of thinking. Sometimes it really made him think. Not act, just think. The industry claimed the public didn't understand true art. But Tala not only wanted to be fabulous, he wanted to be adored, and not just by the industry. It would usually make him quite depressed, meaning more sleepless nights and an increase on pills.

But on his better days, he would sometimes shrug it off. They didn't know better, anyway. Lies could be told to cover it up, and they would be none the wiser. He didn't have a problem; this was the way he had always been. And it wasn't an eating disorder; he just didn't care much for food.

Eventually he disconnected himself from this self-staring contest and had a good look around the room. His chair groaned a little as he sat further back, scanning the clutter for something to entertain him for a little while. Though it seemed the space had been used before as simply a closet for props needed or old clothes that once walked the red carpet and never again saw the light of day. Several dust-coated vases also littered the floor, abundant with the scrawny remains of several bouquets of flowers.

As one of the mirror lights flickered, Tala's eye fell on a familiar hard-backed book, sat gathering dust at the top of a small stack of other written works. He sighed and reached over to retrieve it. The chair groaned again. This written work was his own. Published only a short while after his catapult into fame. He flicked through it half-heartedly, and issued an audible sigh. This would be the sort of place he'd find a copy. Left behind with everything else that was no longer being used. And from the layers of dust, it must have been quite some time since it was last picked up.

It wasn't written well by any means, nor did it tell a particularly inspiring story, as it simply resulted in a man with a cigarette in a musty dressing room. The tale of a child who had a dream, an orphan with next to nothing who managed to eventually transform into something spectacular. His carer an evil man who used to touch him in odd places and make him wear skimpy clothing, it wasn't as though it hadn't happened before. But Tala felt that despite all this, it still hadn't received a good enough feed-back. Enough to be published, not enough to sell, and apparently not enough to remain on the shelves for longer than a year.

Tala turned it back to the front page, ignoring the wave of dust now encircling the air and fusing with the smoke. 'On the Edge.' Tala groaned. He felt it wouldn't have been possible to choose a more cliché title if he had really tried. Still, at least the photograph on the cover looked good.

Tala smiled faintly, somewhat amused by the fact that he had come across this, having never laid eyes on the thing since it was taken off the shelves. For a very long time now he'd been going about his business like it never existed, but now he considered, as he placed it into the bag at his feet, he might pick it up and actually read it every once in a while.

His thoughts were interrupted with a sharp knock on the door. Taking a final breath, Tala waved his arm around as though trying to fan something away, and promptly dropped the remains of his cigarette in the glass tray, where it lay, still smoking, amongst the other stubs and piles of ash.

A very tall woman with platinum blonde hair stepped through the door, also fanning her bony and wrinkles fingers though it didn't look like a conscious action. She gave a wide smile 'Hello, Tala.'

'Hello, Estella.' Tala returned politely.

'Ready to look beautiful?' She walked towards him and began to prepare herself for the task at hand, unloading several boxes of face-fixer for Tala and his dark rings.

Gazing back at the blemished mirror, Tala sighed as the thin whips of white from the still-burning cigarette in the ash tray floated past and faded the striking eyes of his reflection.

'Always ready,' Tala murmured flatly. 'Make me beautiful.'

xXx

For many long and peaceful hours now, the mansion had been in silence. Not so much as a scuffle to echo through the large rooms. Since the housekeeper had made her departure at around a quarter to nine, nothing but silence.

But all that harmony was broken with the click of the door, and irritable voice cutting through the calm stillness as the arriving persons made themselves known.

'And those actresses!' the woman was exclaiming, clearly insinuating that her rant had been progressing for a while. Coincidentally, it had; the entire drive home. 'Those new women,' she began again, with all the superiority in the world, 'who feel they can waltz in and steal awards from those who have rightfully deserved them. It's theft is what it is!'

Slinging their long coats on to wooden hangers and proceeding to the kitchen, the woman continued to complain as she removed her earrings and started on the many jewel-encrusted devices which held her flawless hair in place. She suddenly paused in mid-sentence and took in a long breath, gritting her teeth and clenching her fists. Forming the perfect position for a small child about to throw a tantrum, she issued a shrill growl and stamped her foot. 'I can't stand that Hilary!' she hissed through her teeth.

'Mariah,' the man who had followed her groaned a little. 'Take it easy, your film won the award for Best Picture.'

'It wasn't my film, it was a film I happened to be in!' Mariah snapped. 'In no way whatsoever does it reflect on my skills as an actress!' and then she continued to insult Hilary Kinomiya under her breath as the man yawned and glanced up at the clock. Though through Mariah's outrage he thought for a moment he could hear something.

'Just who she thinks she is I have no idea, with her false sweetness and insufferable…'

Rei groaned again, but this time for an entirely different reason. He concluded that he could definitely hear the sound of tiny feet pattering on the great marble stairs in the hall.

'…and married to an absolute idiot who she very well deser-'

'Mommy, you're home!'

'Lin!' Mariah didn't even attempt to hide her surprise. 'Sweetheart, why aren't you in bed?'

The little girl did the very admirable thing children do where they pointedly ignore a question being asked, and bounded towards her parents instead, excitement written all over her face. 'Mommy, I drew you a pony!'

'That's lovely, darling,' Mariah picked up the hem of her gown as she crouched to look her daughter in the face, 'but it's time for you to go to sleep now, alright?'

The little girl pouted, but nodded her head in defeat and bounded off again. Mariah took the drawing and placed it on the counter-top. 'So well behaved now,' she observed. 'This is perhaps the best housekeeper we've ever had'.

Her husband smiled softly 'She's a clever girl'.

Mariah took a moment to look extremely proud 'A Wong though and through,' she stated. Rei chose to ignore this, but Mariah chose to interpret his silence as some kind of insult. Swiftly forgetting her moment of pride, the mood was suddenly dampened again, coincidentally at the sound of a door being closed in the distance. Mariah turned back to Rei and made a statement which seemed completely out of the blue, which Rei felt Mariah had just wanted to bring up given her foul mood. 'I wouldn't expect you to understand, though,' she spoke in a calmer voice than she'd been using before. 'All you could do the entire night was gape at that unearthly boy from that insufferable band.'

Rei bit down on his tongue to prevent himself losing his temper, which was diminishing by the second. 'Mariah…' he issued in a clear warning tone.

'Oh darling, you can't keep things from me.'

'Keep your voice down, somebody will hear you if you wake up the entire neighbourhood.'

Mariah scoffed 'Oh believe me, Rei, nobody would like it less than me, if somebody were to hear.' Those were the last words she spoke, before scooping up her jewellery and swiftly departing to her bedroom.

Once he'd heard the definite sound of the door being closed, Rei collected his thoughts and slowly made his way back into the lounge, glass of red wine in hand. He didn't feel much like sleeping just yet. Placing the glass on the coffee table, he crossed the room to where the large framed photo hung. The three of them bore down on him, flashing smiles far too wide to be genuine. Allowing a small moan to escape his lips, Rei leant his head against the cold surface of the wall and closed his eyes.

'Please,' he whispered. 'Please let me go.'

xXx

Third year in a row, Hilary Kinomiya takes the prize

Ming-Ming beamed as she glanced down at the sight of her idol's flashing smile. Looking around to ensure she was alone, which she was, the girl loudly cleared her throat as she tore the article from the front of the paper. Carefully folding the thin page as though it were a sheet of gold, she slipped it into her purse and told herself she'd read it later.

Having promised herself she'd arrive at this meeting with ambition and confidence, as the time passed she began to get anxious. Picking at her newly manicured fingernails in an attempt to quell the old-age habit of biting them, her mind wandered to all the possibilities she could be faced with should her dream actually be coming true. Ever since dropping out of school she'd set her mind on achieving this dream, and now it looked as though it were finally being made a reality. This was the first time her songs had seemed to interest anybody; the first time she'd been called in to meet an agency. And not just any agency, one of the largest in the world.

Tapping her foot on the polished floor, her eyes wandered around the room she'd been instructed to sit in while waiting. Surrounding her were photographs of the stars made by this man she was about to meet. Kai Hiwatari; the man who could shoot her to fame faster than lightning. The man who sought out any form of talent, and turned his object into a true icon. He had been the first to discover the flair in teenaged Rei Kon, when he was only a teenager himself; his company had sponsored Tyson Kinomiya in his first ever championship; and now Ming-Ming felt that it was her turn. She knew she had all the talent she needed; everybody had always told her she should sing. It didn't matter that her good-for-nothing parents had thrown her out of the house after she quit school; they simply couldn't foresee it. Their only daughter was going to be rich and famous. She'd never tried to hard for anything in her life; she deserved to be made a star.

Suddenly her heart was in her mouth, and her glittered eyes widened a little as she heard footsteps making their way briskly down the corridor. A man rounded the corner and Ming-Ming automatically leapt to her feet, slightly startled at her own reaction. The man either pretended not to notice or simply didn't care, and bid the girl to follow him.

He led her down a couple more corridors which all looked the same to the overwhelmed girl, and finally they stopped at a teak door with a steal handle. Ming-Ming bit her lip as the man behind her reached over her head with an impatient sigh and all but pushed her into the room.

The first thing she noticed was the strong smell of scented soap. It flooded her nose and made her want to sneeze, but she contained herself and tried to gather her wits. The man had not followed her, and so she found herself quite alone on one side of the large office, about half a dozen men having a discussion on the other. One of them she instantly recognised to be Kai Hiwatari; and he seemed the only one who had actually took notice of her entrance. Ignoring the words still being spoken to him, he raised an eyebrow slightly and looked down at the girl. Ming-Ming didn't know what to make of the stare he was giving her, but it was slightly uncomfortable, and yet rather exciting at the same time. For a thirty-something year-old, Kai Hiwatari was hot.

Still scrutinizing the girl with his deep crimson eyes, he opened his mouth and instantly all the talk from the other men was silenced. 'That will do for now. I have an appointment so we'll continue this meeting later.' And without even issuing another word, each of them turned and departed from the office, without even throwing Ming-Ming a second glance.

Once they were gone, Kai continued to stare. For a while he simply said nothing, leaving the girl standing before him rather fidgety and uncomfortable. Finally, he motioned to a leather swivel chair and calmly stated 'Sit down.'

Very conscious of the deafening noise her heels made to break the silence, and the eyes that still continued to watch her, Ming-Ming did as she was commanded and sat down in the chair. Before taking into consideration the insecure feelings brought about by all the large furniture, the man behind the desk actually said something. 'So, Ming-Ming…'

Her pulse increased slightly and she tried to control the incisive twitching of the corner of her lips. Instead she batted her eyelashes a little and waited for him to continue.

Finally, he spoke the words she'd been waiting to hear for what seemed like a lifetime. Flicking through a small stack of documents, he had finally taken his eyes off her and now she almost wished he would look back again. 'I think you might be exactly what the industry is looking for.'

The girl couldn't believe what she was finally hearing. 'Really?' she gushed.

'You certainly have the potential to be something promising,' Kai continued. 'Today, with singers like you is where the money is found. I think we could cut a very fine deal, here.'

He looked up from his papers at the small girl again, who was smiling with sheer delight. He couldn't help but smirk; her eyes positively sparkling with the prospect of this incredible opportunity, she was almost angelic in her hope.

'Honestly, Mister Hiwatari? You can get me a record deal?'

'The name is Kai,' he responded smoothly. 'And I can make you a star.'

xXx

Growing increasingly weary by the minute, Max took another longing yet reluctant look back at the clock on the wall of his office. It had been three hours since his work had ended, and still he found himself stuck in his chair, having not left since his lunch break. His blonde hair hung in front of his eyes and the typed words on the documents were beginning to blur as his eyes struggled to keep themselves open. It had been a long day.

His final case of the evening had been handed to him while he was preparing to leave the office and head home, by an employee who felt this was more Max's level of expertise. But what it really meant, Max knew very well, was that the man had neither the confidence that he could assist the defendant, nor the effort to carry out the tiring procedure.

'Bryan Kuznetsov,' Max read to himself while flicking through the files. 'Sued for public indecent exposure with band-mate, Brooklyn Kingston...' his voice trailed off as he continued to examine the law suit. While reading, he tapped the pen against the desk to the time of the second hand on the large clock, and bit his lower lip in concentration. Every so often he'd shake his head a little or issue a soft sigh.

Max knew this man; he was a member of the band Blitzkrieg, who were fast gaining popularity with the rebellious adolescents of today's society. This was a group of four young men who had built their way up to fame by making an extremely bold name for themselves, in more ways than just the music. This would obviously have included audacious and taboo acts like the one listed on the documents in Max's hand. And of course, Bryan Kuznetsov was the only member with even the diminutive amount of money, so naturally it was he who was being sued, rather than his eccentric lover.

Max scoffed as he finished flicking through the package a final time. Quite impressed by how much he knew, he had to admit for an older man, he quite liked the music Bryan's band produced. By the standards of civilization, it was strictly off-limits, but the lawyer felt it was something fresh, and far more dexterous than the painted maniacs who would simply scream into microphones and call it music.

But despite this, Max sat back in his chair and thoughtfully shook his head. This would never do. No matter how good-a lawyer he was, even the infamous Max Mizuhara wouldn't be able to assist much in the case. Society spoke for itself; it would never be okay to exploit homosexuality to such a length in public. Bryan was about to lose a lot of money.

As he prepared himself to leave, another employee entered his office. 'Sir, your verdict on the case?'

Max sighed, but didn't look up from his files. 'I've reached a verdict, and decided against it. That will be all, thankyou.'

The man said no more, and simply retrieved the papers listing the case of Bryan Kuznetsov from the desk and made his exit. Only a couple of seconds later, his employer was to follow. Finally being relieved from his tiresome day, Max gathered up his belongings, swung his coat over his shoulders, and departed from the office for another night, flicking the lights off behind him.

(A/N): Okay so, this was sort of the intro chapter, which is why nothing really happened. It sort of set the scene. There's only seven chapters altogether so the plots will start flying fast in the next one.

By the way, just to let you know this might be a bit of a Mariah-bashing fic, but I have nothing against Mariah as a character. I actually really like Mariah. So flames for bashing her will not be accepted. Also I've got nothing against heavy metal music...I mean hey, each to their own. Max just happens to think it's stupid, it has no reflect on my opinion. So similarly, no abuse accepted. Thankyou :)

While writing this fic I sort of figured out an entire story based around each character. Even if nothing was mentioned in this story, they each had their own past planned out and everything…it made me kind of sad, because I think they deserved so much better than to be stuck in this drama I created :(

…But oh well! That's what this story's all about; enhancing sympathy :) Please review!