No matter how many luxury, fancy, five star, $$$$$ hotels Nishikino Maki would spend time in, she would never get used to the powder room lounges, with interior design as fancy and challenging as the living areas of the 'finest' homes. This one had a wood and platinum motif, with large low sofas scattered over a space the size of her moderately luxurious apartment. There were pitchers with cucumber water and a thick book full of very unclothed photography, which actually interested Maki, as a photographer herself, but here, where women came in and out every few minutes, she felt too exposed to pick it up, have a look, and see who had made that particular editor's cut. So no lingering after the deed is done. In a room seemingly designed for lingering. And one fidgety blur of movement in a corner Maki made certain to only catch out of the corner of her eye. No staring. Time to move on, no matter how tempting the couches seemed compared to the roomful of noisy chatter and chummy elbows.
Maki was back to continue her decor appreciation jam session after only ten minutes because of a small accident with the soup. Award shows should be like the Oscars, someone else in your seat when you needed air, not occasions where you not only had to juggle nerves but also food. Maki shook her head at herself, looked at the curry down the front of her dress and wondered if water would make it better or worse.
She stopped. There was the blur, now in the center of the 'lounge,' a tiny dark haired woman, pacing and muttering, hands flying back and forth, making shapes in the air, leaning into a couch, patting an imaginary cheek, turning to one side, smiling and waving, unusually...red eyes wide and friendly. And then they spotted Maki, and narrowed.
"Sorry…" Maki coughed and ducked her head, pointing to her dress, "spilled soup. Just…" Maki smiled shyly, "thought I saw you in here ten minutes ago. Are you okay? I get nervous too." A flip of her finger across the still damp soup stain to demonstrate empathy.
Now there was staring. The eyes were red, almost rubies, with that same illusion of faceted depth that the best jewelers carve into their efforts, bringing out magical warmth from mineral cold. Then an incandescent smile happened that knocked Maki back, "Nico is fine. Nico is just rehearsing her acceptance speech so fans like you," a broad, broad wink, "aren't disappointed."
Nico. Yazawa Nico. Maki took a better look, this woman was so tiny, but yes, the eyes should have been a giveaway, set deep over a nose that was much sharper than Maki had even seen in any of the movies where Yazawa had bled out all of her emotions for an audience eager for stories of romance, tragedy, and triumph with an actress unafraid to be as unapologetically gay on screen as off. From superhero to Empress, Nico had swept the international cinema scene, scoring box office hits in both small indie films and action blockbusters. Maki had been impressed by the actress's range, cried and laughed over her performances, and maybe had a slightly illicit dream or two. Like every other gay and bi woman on the planet.
"Hello?" Yazawa's hand was waving in front of Maki's nose, "Nico can help you with the spill. I have a stain stick in my purse, It'll keep it from setting."
Maki nodded. That sounded sensible. Like a plan. And Nico's dress was silver slashed with black fringe, that went with the silver slashes across sharp cheekbones above lips that could really only be described as a sensuous dark plum.
The actress was waiting for some kind of verbal reply, but Maki had half turned and was just staring at a pattern on the couch and running a hand through her hair, as adjectives and screenshots kept flashing on her internal movie screen. Then Yazawa's hands were on her shoulders and she was being shoved into a chair, "But first you listen to Nico's speech…" Yazawa paused.
"Um…" Maki realized her elevation had changed and she glanced up, Nico watching her critically.
"Name?" Nico urged.
"Maki." Easy question.
Nico nodded and the tension eased. "Okay, Maki, hi I'm Nico, I have a big presentation in…" Yazawa glanced at a delicate twist of a silver watch, "20 minutes, so it's kinda urgent, can I run something by you? So I don't sound like an idiot."
"Yeah, I always sound like an idiot too." Maki blurted.
"Well," Nico stepped back, "thanks for the vote of confidence."
"Sorry, Ms. Yazawa..." Maki bit her lip, "you're always so polished on screen…."
"It's Nico. And I never write my own dialogue. On set improv is lame." Nico stepped back, her eyes focusing somewhere else, hands seeming to measure out where the stage and microphone were, "Writers work as hard as Nico does so they deserve respect."
Maki thought Umi would be pleased and surprised to hear that from a celebrity she had occasionally doubted the work ethic of. Maki, as a composer, was usually immune from actors altering her artistic choices but it was a near daily struggle for Umi. Maki wondered if Nico would be interested in reading their latest, an intimate musical…
Nico's hand again, fingers snapping this time under Maki's nose this time. She jumped as Nico began to sound testy again, "If Nico can keep your interest, she can keep anyone's…"
"Not, that's not...I just...my friend Umi is a writer and always complains about actors who want to improv."
"Posers."
Maki grinned, "Exactly what she says."
Nico patted Maki encouragingly on the shoulder, amused, "Introduce Nico later. Now you listen. We only have 15 minutes before..." Nico flung her arms wide, nodding to each side, gathering in imaginary shouts and whistles.
"Okay." Maki stood, stretched her arms out in front of her, sat, leaned forward, slammed her hands into her knees, the picture of alert attention, and winked at Nico, "Go."
Nico laughed, stepped behind her imaginary podium, whispered, "clap" so Maki did while Nico's hand gestures called for more. Then the flip of the hand for quiet.
"Thank you. Tonight is very important to Nico…"
###
Sundance...party...one pissed off caterer...Maki had no idea what she did to annoy the woman...oh wait, yeah that...but Umi was going to be SEVERELY disappointed when their party, intended to impress award winning designer Minami Kotori turned out to be Maki smiling awkwardly and handing around a bag of stale chips and a growler. It was a weeknight, the Thursday before the second weekend, and Maki had had hopes of catching the ska documentary she'd connected a musician friend with. But no, here she was frantically searching for...a pizza place, maybe? Fewer crowds than last year, when they'd come the first weekend, but still enough people bustling that Maki felt like she was elbowing people awkwardly in the halls of high school again. And then her heel hit a patch of black ice and she sssssssslllllliiiiiiiiiiiiiid down the sidewalk until some obstacle forced her back on her butt. That was going to be sore, Maki thought as she reached a hand behind her, levering herself up was going to be at least a three limb job, both legs and one arm.
"Here let me help you. Are you okay?"
Maki recognized the voice and winced. Yazawa Nico once again catching her in an imperfect moment. "Hi. No, I'm fine."
Nico snorted. She was in a black snowsuit with cute pink flair, fake fur, and patches scattered all over her arms and legs. She took Maki's hand and when the redhead nodded, pulled. Maki rose and stumbled forward, suddenly finding herself with A list celebrity arms supporting most of her weight while dreamably delicious, not even mildly chapped lips pinched back what was probably a belly roar of laughter.
"Sorry." Maki stepped back, hands brushing the snow off her leggings. Why hadn't she dressed for the weather? Leggings based on samurai armor, an oversized Northwestern hoodie and a Reign ballcap would not have been any stylist's choice.
"No soup stains?" Nico teased, clapping together pink mittens that looked like Muppet fur. Maki thought there might be eyes on the palms. She wasn't sure if that was cute or creepy.
"No food at all." Maki sniffled, feeling the cold soak into what was going to be a sitting bruise, and having no real options as her mind raced through possibilities. Umi and Kotori would be headed back with a small crowd after the premiere of Umi's latest film and Maki had nothing, "I have to go. Nico to see...I mean nice to see you, Nico." Maki tried to smile but she knew her face was giving away how many non options she was discarding per second.
"What's the matter?" Nico asked so casually, so quickly, Maki almost forgot where she was.
"I pissed off the caterer. And Umi…"
"Your writing friend…."
"You remembered…"
Nico tapped her temple, "Nico keeps future industry connections who know cute redheads in the most secure part of her memory." Nico frowned, "Sorry, Nico meant intelligent and attentive test audiences. Nico's not a creep."
"Then why are there eyes on your mittens?" Maki couldn't help asking.
"Huh..." Nico laughed, raising one of her hands, turning her mitten into a sock puppet, the pitch of her voice dropping, "Hey, friend, let's make a snowman…"
Maki glanced around, a little frantic, not sure how to react, especially as this new conversation track was her stumble entirely, "Sorry no...there's not really anywhere...I really...Umi's going to be so upset…"
"They make my little brother laugh. He's 13 and I'm trying to keep him silly." Nico rolled her eyes, "They grow up too fast."
"Oh." Maki hated being this confused. And feeling this incapable. But Nico was grinning at her and cute and surely Umi and Honoka could charm Kotori without catering. There was ice cream in the freezer. Probably.
"So what did you do to the caterer…?"
Maki shoved her hands in her kangaroo pocket so she wouldn't just throw her hat somewhere as she remembered the scene. "Ummmm...ran over the main dish because I was running late and backing out of the condo driveway when they were unloading…"
"Sounds like a movie meet cute." Nico's eyes were twinkling while Maki was getting shorter and probably tilting toward the left as her hip contracted from pain and cold. "So is it a private party...why did Nico miss getting her invite?"
"Oh, it's for anyone who goes to Umi's premiere." Maki glanced at her watch. "Which is going to be over soon."
Nico pulled out her phone. "What's your address?"
"Why?" There wouldn't be much of a party, and Honoka would surely just hit Nico with every project her clients might need an actress for.
"Nico knows someone. Is this Umi or who she's trying to impress allergic to anything?"
"Minami? I'm not sure."
Nico whistled, "Kotori, the Divine Kotori of Floating Feather Atelier….Nico really needs to come to one of your parties. Nico hears she's big on cutesy food…" Nico frowned, considering. "I might know a place..."
"Where?" Maki got ready to run.
"You are not touching anything breakable, droppable, or poisonable. Nico will send her assistant." Nico handed Maki her phone, "Just give me your contact info and Cocoro will take care of it."
"Okay." Maki took off a glove and tried typing but nothing registered. She kept punching until Nico took the phone back, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Just talk."
"Okay."
Nico typed in the digits as Maki recited them. "All right, Nico will send a rescue party to your wreck. Don't back over them."
"I'm walking everywhere from now on. Rogue Salmon spaghetti carbonaras are obviously stalking my car."
"Probably safest. Are you hanging out this weekend? Nico's chairing a diversity panel. People are going to be talking about it for months." Nico kept typing, biting her lip as she muttered things Maki couldn't make out.
"Flying to Tokyo in the morning." Nico looked disappointed so Maki explained. "Family business. My parents..."
"Oh. Nico will text you a snap of her agenda and her dress so you can see what you missed."
"Okay." Maki nodded at Nico, who had finally glanced up from her phone."Thanks, Nico. I'd better get back."
As Maki turned, Nico giggled. "Send Nico back a pajama selfie."
Maki whirled, "What?"
Nico, with a too innocent expression on her face, was watching her mittens out dance each other, "We should go to a party TOGETHER sometime."
"Stop by tonight. You have the address."
Nico's mittens dropped to her sides, her voice apologetic before it dipped back into a teasing edge. "Guest of honor three places. Already late for the first. And Nico has to hurry her assistant because there's a cute redhead with no food to stain her clothes…"
Maki blushed and bolted. Nico had a very distinctive, short, snorting laugh and Maki feared that further conversation would draw a crowd. Plus, the liquor delivery was probably waiting.
###
Maki's phone vibrated with a text from an unknown number, "We're here."
"Who?"
"Food."
Maki had changed into jeans and a turtleneck, and was about to put her last layer on. Shoving her arm quickly into the formal jacket, she hopped down to the door.
One young woman, leading three young men with huge insulated bags, stood, impatiently tapping her fingers against the doorframe, "Maki?"
The grim tone made Maki wonder if she should pull out her ID. "Yes."
The woman turned, "Take everything inside, find the kitchen, set it all up, my sister said not to let her touch anything."
The staff nodded and shuffled past Maki once she stepped out of the door and onto the porch so they could get through.
The young woman glared at her. "Nico already tipped them."
"Okay." Maki was staring. This young woman was almost identical to Nico in coloring, but no amusement had ever lurked in her blood red eyes and her entire expression screamed "Not on my watch, you don't."
"You should probably go back inside." The not Nico pointed.
"Okay." Could this be over soon, Maki wondered.
"I have to text Nico a picture." Nope.
"I'll take you to the kitchen." Maki had said something right, but it was too late to score any points. The "thank you" in response was perfunctory.
"I'm Maki Nishikino."
"I know."
Maki knew Nico had mentioned a name but its memory was as slippery as the Park City pavement."You are?"
"Ms. Yazawa, Nico's assistant." Stated slowly.
"Right. Thank you."
No reply. Ms. Yazawa racewalked into the living area, and Maki could hear her ordering the three young men around.
Maybe everything would be self serve. And Nico's...sister? Evil clone? would make a quick exit. Maki wasn't looking forward to the party and extra scrutiny would make it so much worse.
"Maki!" Honoka Kosaka cheerful trill echoed as the front door banged open, 'Everyone loved Umi's script. And they can't wait to meet you.' Maki waved at her old friend and agent as the ginger in a kilt and shawl bounced into the living area. The food had arrived just in time. But a smile was more than Maki could muster as the memory of the younger Yazawa's frigid attitude kept scalding her.
###
The condo was finally quiet. Umi, Honoka, and Kotori had gone off somewhere to continue what Umi called 'negotiations' while Honoka had whispered date. Which Maki wasn't thinking about. Because the condo was finally quiet. And then her ringtone went off. Maki groaned and grabbed her phone, wondering what the new crisis was.
A text from an unknown number: ( ˘▽˘)っ how was the party? My sister said you didn't spill anything while she was there.
Maki smiled. Nico.
M: （－－；exhausting
N: In bed already? Pajama selfie?
M: Collapsed in chair fully clothed so not terribly exciting.
N: Depends on the chair ପ(⑅ ॣ•͈૦•͈ ॣ)ଓ
Maki shot a quick pic of the fabric pattern.
N: 10/10 would slouch right there with you
M: I'd be terrible company. During party: |_-｡), after party (o_ _)o
N: And yet, here we are...(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧
Maki ran a hand through her hair and sighed. What she really wanted to do was soak in a bath for hours, candles lit, music low, but past experience had taught her that as soon as Honoka came back she'd barge into wherever Maki was with an update.
N: Is the rest of Team 'Slide In Through My Window' there?
M: You know the script title?
N: Nico talks to people. Your friend Umi made quite a splash at the writing panel. Bet actresses are swooning to get a look at the script ヽ/❀o ل͜ o\ﾉ
Maki frowned.
M: Are you?
A pause...Maki could see Nico typing, then the bubble disappeared. Then more typing,
N: (,Ծ_ლ) Honestly? There's no good way for Nico to answer that.
Maki leaned forward, her fingers flying.
M: Why not?
N: *groans* Because of course, duh...hot new thing and turns out I love the score for the 'Déshabillé and Disaster' short and YOU composed that, but mostly, Nico is swooning over an excuse to keep talking to you.
Nico knew her work. The first thing people mentioned was usually the hit steamy summer bop she'd written with Carly Rae Jepsen last year, not the Le Cristal d'Annecy winning animated short so Nico had either done her homework or was a genuine enthusiast. Either way…Maki found herself typing too quickly to reconsider anything she said.
M: You don't need an excuse.
N: Are you going to be in LA for awards season?
M: Yes.
N: Nico will see you then. Cocoro hasn't overscheduled me yet…So let's crash a party together.
M: Can it be a small, quiet party? *yawns pathetically*
N: Get some sleep. And don't forget to send Nico a pajama selfie when you get to Tokyo. Or at least a chair pic. Nico needs to know your furniture preferences.
And Nico had attached a selfie where she had the most serious of faces, one eyebrow quirked to its sharpest, most questioning extreme.
Maki couldn't help it. The guffaw just rolled out; there was no other word for it. This was flirting. This was nice. No one staring and making her feel uncomfortable. A minute to think. Maki relaxed into the chair, legs pulled up, remembering Nico's grin. This was flirting. A nudge. A wink. A dare. Maki took a risk.
M: Not too well padded.
N: (╯‵□′)╯︵┴─┴ Rude. Nico's furniture is padded perfectly. ಠ‿↼
Guffaw followed by giggle. Maki was feeling better. Maybe she could actually sleep before leaving for her flight. IF she taped a huge DO NOT DISTURB ME, HONOKA to her door.
M: Thanks for your help, Nico. You saved me. Although I don't think your sister likes me.
N: She's not the deciding vote in the Yazawa family. Chat up Cotaro, he likes donuts, you might be able to swing a majority. Nico will put in a good word for you.
M: You're probably exhausting in person.
N: All the to die for parties are (ˆ⌣ˆԅ)
M: *collapses further into chair, CRUSHED under weight of brush with celebrity*
N: Nico is not fatal, , just friendly.
M: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
N: Sleep it off, recluse ❤⃛ヾ(๑❛ ▿ ◠๑ )
M: (b~_^)b
N: Cute. See you in LA.
See Nico in LA. It was now a plan. And Nico would be in one of those dresses designed to show off every perfectly padded curve. Maki felt herself redden and then panic jumped to her memories of red carpets and last year. The crowds. The cameras. And how everyone sweeping by, svelte and confident, had brought out every clumsy twitch in her body. But Nice was certainly not the watch the red carpet on a laptop with takeout and TWIG commentary type. Maki sat up, maybe if she started with a dress. Could Umi and Honoka talk Minami Kotori into coming back to the condo for some fashion talk? Maki could use a little divine design intervention.
A/N: Enjoy this first half. I started this while finishing up Jingle Bell Jazz when I heard Nancy Wilson's version of "I Can't Get Started." Juggling a few storylines so I'm not sure what'll be next after this as summer and Shakespeare and crimes against humanity by the government of my country continue.
Thanks for reading. Take care!