Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, or any of its characters. They are all the wonderful creations of Tite Kubo!

Of Reporters and Rockstars

By

IchigoRukiaforever

A/N: Yeah, I know I usually do these at the end of the chapter, but I wanted to do a slight intro first.

Here goes: Well since everyone seems to be doing an IchiRuki story on them being celebs (I've read quite a few and they were brilliant) so I decided to do one to give it a shot too. Hope you guys like it.

"Every Cloud has a silver lining,"

-Steward Little-

Xxxx

"Presenting the worldwide famous, multi-genre singer and songwriter, Ichigo Kurosaki, making a fantastic exit from New York's very own branch of Tony Roma's. The Hollywood heartthrob seems to be clad in Jeans and a crisp black shirt, looking devastatingly handsome with his signature smirk whilst making his way to his vehicle surrounded by men dressed in black," gushed out an excited reporter, jogging slightly to catch another glimpse of the orange-headed man through the sea of people crowded around the area.

"This way, Ichigo!"

"Look here!"

"Mr. Kurosaki!"

"Smile!"

"I'm going to have to ask you to back off, sir!" said the bodyguard nearest to Ichigo, grabbing the shoulders of a rather crazed camera man trying to get a closer shot at the star.

Ichigo flashed a rare grin and a small wave at the surrounding people before ducking into his vehicle, gaining deafening screams from the many fangirls that seemed to have materialized out of thin air.

Ichigo sighed audibly, as one of his bodyguards had to throw off two or more crazy paparazzi members before closing Ichigo's car door. He ran his fingers through his oddly soft, orange spikes; resting his head against the headrest as he closed his eyelids. The ever persistent paparazzi still tried to photograph him through the black tinted windows.

"I'm gonna go home and drown myself in the bathtub," groaned Ichigo, straightening out the kinks in his back. Today had been nerve-wrecking. He had been up at the studio at five recording, and then was driven straight for his photo shoot, only to be followed by his advertisement shoot, and finally when he thought it couldn't get any worse, two scheduled interviews for Ok! Magazine and E News. Not mentioning the crazy paparazzi chases he had to endure during the day, not counting this one. As for his fans, he really tried to sign as many autographs and take as many photos with them as he could, but sometimes the girls would go a little too far. He sighed fitfully remembering one in particular, who had hurriedly shoved her jeans down and asked him to sign her underwear. Ichigo was dumbfounded momentarily; was that his name on her underwear? What in the world? He had bolt off, abandoning his Sharpie in the middle of the road.

Little did he know, he had caused a large brawl over who got to keep his marker pen after that.

"You have no time for that, Ichigo. You have another TV interview scheduled for tonight," came the cool voice of Ichigo's personal assistant and manager from the front seat, Yoruichi Shihoin. This snapped him out of his horrid memory sequence.

"Aw, come on, you said E was the last one for today, Yoruichi. I'm totally beat," Ichigo grumbled, accepting a bottle of Evian sparkling water from her.

"Sorry Ichigo. This one can't be rescheduled. It's with Lifestyles magazine's most famous reporter. She's a tough one," Yoruichi informed Ichigo shortly.

Ichigo sighed; he sincerely hoped he wouldn't doze off during the interview. It had been one heck of a day, he thought gulping the water down. It's not like it was anywhere out of the ordinary anyway. Last minute things like these were something Ichigo had already gotten used to.

Xxxxxxxx

Ichigo sighed as Yoruichi began straightening his clothes in his private lounge room at The Plaza; they had arrived half an hour early, just because Yoruichi was a stickler about punctuality and all that jazz. It was almost tradition that she gave him a pep-talk before his interviews. Ichigo had memorized her speech by heart, so that he could lip-synch as she was talking. It was great practice for when he shot his music videos anyway.

"So, you know the drill, Ichigo. Don't give her too many details on the upcoming album, no matter how much she digs. Don't lose your cool, look interested, for God's sake! Not like you've got a stick shoved up your ass. And smile once in a while, and not in that constipated way wither," nagged Yoruichi as she did her last minute fussing over Ichigo in the large hotel lounge. She knew he wasn't listening to a word she was saying anyway, but it always made her feel better to say it anyway.

She also knew that even if Ichigo were to start scratching his armpits, whilst swinging from the grand chandelier; pausing only to begin hurling ice cubes at the reporter on live television, his fangirls, young and old alike, would still faithfully salivate over him.

All because he was Ichigo Kurosaki. Not really a boy, neither a fully grown man either. The one who wrote and sang the most meaningful songs with the voice of a husky angel, no matter what the song was about.

He pouted at Yoruichi as she began to adjust his collar.

"Come on, you know the ladies love the scowl," he smirked playfully; as though reading her thoughts.

Yoruichi pretended to gag as she began fiddling with his cufflinks.

"Get over yourself, carrot top," she muttered half-heartedly as she pulled away from him.

There. Perfect.

She drew back a bit to admire her artwork. Ichigo stood in all his perfect 6 feet glory, give or take two inches, basking in the fluorescent light. He was wearing impressive black dress pants, a white long sleeved shirt, and to finish off his classy look, a handsome black vest wrapped around his firm torso. His outfit clearly showed off his toned body and complemented his strong arms and narrow waist. His spiky rust coloured hair, which blatantly refused to be tamed (be it with hairspray, gel or even comb), stuck out in every direction, his fringe falling playfully into his smothering I-could-just-get-lost-in-those golden eyes. His smirk was playful and fitted his strong features perfectly. The first three buttons were casually undone to show off most of his perfect collarbones beneath his golden skin and strong neck.

He looked almost… Grecian. The epitome of a young Greek God his fangirls always made him out to be.

What was that young one's name again? Ah! Hercules! Yoruichi scoffed at the superficiality of her thoughts.

Ichigo put his large hands on his hips impatiently.

"What am I? Your snowman?" he teased her, as she began walking towards the glass table to pick up her constantly beeping blackberry.

"Hold that thought," she gestured to Ichigo with a slim finger pointed towards him, as she cradled her phone between her shoulder and her ear.

Ichigo rolled his eyes and sank back into the lush black couch behind him. The soft jazz music tinkling in the background soothed his mind. Music always had that effect on him, ever since he was little. Now at 20, music still seemed to do wonders to his being.

His eyes snapped open again as heard an overdramatic "WHAT?!?" coming from Yoruichi.

Ichigo sat up slowly and eyed her horrified expression uneasily. Yoruichi rarely lost her cool façade as nothing seemed to ruffle her feathers. For her to be yelling out profanities like this, it must be an urgent matter she was dealing with on her phone. She was pacing up and down; frowning hard.

Uh-oh. She's mad, thought Ichigo. Yoruichi's temper is one he'd experienced first handedly a few times. And boy, was he glad he wasn't the sorry bastard she was yelling at.

"No, I am pretty damn sure his interview is scheduled right now!"

"Do I sound like I'm playing with you? Just who the hell d'you think you are anyway?"

"This is THE ICHIGO KUROSAKI we are talking about. Just who are you managing?"

"HER!?! Oh Good God. How the hell did this happen? Lifestyles' had Kurosaki booked for the 8.30 slot from the get go! How could she be scheduled at the same time?"

Ichigo knew Yoruichi was lying through her teeth about that one; his interview was scheduled a mere hour ago, but should he breathe a word now, it would abruptly end his young life.

Ichigo crossed and uncrossed his fingers together distractedly as he listened to snippets of one side of the conversation, trying to make out the scenario here. From what he could guess, another celeb was also booked for the Live! On Lifestyles' 8.30 interview. And this other person was a she. He wondered briefly along the lines of Vanessa Hudgens and Miley Cyrus, as Lifestyles preferred interviewing celebs around his age. He would gladly bow them in and escape to his comfy bed. If they wanted to take over it was fine with him. Perfectly fine.

The sound of Yoruichi's strangled scream made him look up at her again.

She had hung up the phone and was now staring daggers into Ichigo.

"W-what?" he yelped, flinching; a little uncomfortable with the murderous look in her wide, catlike eyes.

"There is another damn interview scheduled now! The same time as yours! And her manager has the nerve to be so damn cocky! How can he be so cool about this, damn it? You're both huge stars, you can't just… just merge!" she yelled, tugging on her brilliant, inky purple top.

Ichigo waited for her to stop hyperventilating before daring to ask the next big question. He rubbed his neck, as he pondered on how to ask his question without Yoruichi hurling the decorative grand piano in the room straight at him.

"Uhm… with who exactly?" Ichigo asked tenderly, not wanting to spark Yoruichi's anger again.

Yoruichi picked up one of the Lifestyles' magazines from under the glass table and shoved it under Ichigo's nose, tapping the cover model with one manicured fingernail.

Ichigo gingerly took the magazine from her hands and examined the cover model with scrutinizing eyes. It was a picture of a raven-haired beauty, laughing openly at the camera, clearly sporting the Bohemian look. Her eyes were expressive; a bright, indigo-violet. Her nose was crinkled in perfection to her natural laugh, her tiny white teeth on show beneath her lightly glossed rosy lips. Her hair was falling in delicate curls around her face, spilling out of her messy ponytail. Her dark silken hair was a complete contrast to her milky-white skin. Her frame was petite and she was small, but hell she had curves. Her legs seemed and endless for someone lacking in the height department; all toned and perfect. Ichigo's eyes travelled over the name daintily scrawled below the picture as he realized why she looked so familiar.

He knew this Goddess. Who didn't? The young singer come actress, who had everyone completely under her spell; including his best friend, Renji. Was there anything this beauty couldn't do? She was a singer, actress, model and even part time writer.

"Rukia Kuchiki?" he breathed out to Yoruichi, unable to tear his face away from the image.

"Don't Ichigo, don't even go there! We're supposed to be frustrated beyond reasoning with her and her stupid manager!" Yoruichi snarled as she threw her hands heavenward.

Ichigo sighed. It was refreshing to see another American born Japanese star, he guessed.

"They're coming here now! I told her manager I wanted him to come here and face me like a man, so we could sort out this problem," Yoruichi exclaimed her hand wrapped around her fist, as she cracked her knuckles.

Problem huh? Ichigo had met many celebrities; but never her. He had seen her countless times during the rare times he got to watch TV. He had never really thought about it before, but he wanted to see what she was like in person. He smirked as his eyes roamed over her laughing form in the picture again. He'd really like to see those fantastic legs for real too.

Xxxxxxxx

"What do you mean there's another interview scheduled, Urahara?" Rukia frowned as they made their way to the elevator; they're bodyguards scattering to their stations, leaving the two to proceed upstairs.

"Don't frown, Rukia. It spoils your pretty face. I like it better when you smile," grinned Urahara, as he pressed the button for the elevator, straightening his top hat, which he never took off. Today he had matched it with his black Tuxedo and Italian loafers.

Rukia tugged on her dress in frustration. It had been a long day for her, not to mention her sister Hisana's new clothing line, KuchiKuchiKoo (her brother in law, Byakuya, nearly passed out as he heard the ruined version of his proud family name) was launched today, and Rukia had to model the clothes the whole day, while the photographers couldn't get enough of her.

She really couldn't understand why her sister couldn't just model them herself since she was a carbon copy of Rukia, since Hisana had so confidently claimed she needed Rukia's exotic looks to play off her clothes just right. Yeah right, more like so she wouldn't have to bother to fly in some diva with out-of-this-world demands.

But then again Hisana was such a Klutz she'd have probably fallen of the runway multiple times, or flashed her underwear in the shorter numbers, truly not knowing she was doing so, and she wasn't nearly as photogenic as Rukia. She had the tendency to blink, yawn and even scratch that itchy spot just as the camera flashed.

She dragged her mind to the current problem; whose interview was she supposedly crashing?

Whoever it was would receive her blessings to carry on with the show so that she could retire to her loving bed.

"Urahara! Who's interview am I crashing?" she asked yet again as she stepped into the elevator.

Urahara ignored her question as he looked her over properly, making sure she was decent enough for her interview. She was still wearing her stage make up from the clothing launch today, along with her Hisana's brilliant new clothing line on her body. Her beautiful violet eyes were expertly outlined with kohl, her eyelids had on a clear shiny silver eyeshadow, just enough to make her blinking sparkly. Her already thick eyelashes were coated with dark mascara, and her swollen lips were given just a tinge of frosty pink.

She was wearing a short beige, flowing dress which stopped right at her thighs; showcasing her perfect legs. Her tiny waist was framed by a thick black belt piece, causing a nice contrast; like her ebony hair and creamy white skin. It was long sleeved with a magician's cut at the end, giving the dress a sophisticated ice queen look. Her hair was piled up at the top of her head in an elegant disarray.

He frowned thoughtfully; then he reached out and expertly pulled the clips out that were holding her glossy hair together. Her hair immediately spilled out to her shoulders elegantly, framing her pretty face. Urahara smiled at the finished product.

"Uryuu took an hour to do that!" she barked at Urahara whom she was getting increasingly annoyed at; her personal hairstylist had practically strapped her down to her seat and done her hair, and know this irritating manager of hers had ruined it.

"You have to look good, you're merging with one of the hottest singers around," he said finally as the elevator opened up, straight to the entrance private lounge.

Rukia stepped out of the elevator, her interest peaked.

She began walking backwards in front of Urahara down to the main part of the lounge, Urahara carefully steering her out of the way of any harmful objects.

"Can you please tell me who the heck I'm merging with?" she burst out, coming to a stop, refusing to turn around until Urahara spat it out. Urahara had come to a stop too; and he seemed to be smiling at someone past Rukia's head.

"Good evening, Mr. Kurosaki. I'm sorry for this misunderstanding; I'm Urahara Kisuke, Rukia's manager," Urahara claimed crisply.

Rukia froze.

Kurosaki. Why was that name so familiar? Oh yes! That guy her sister gets the giggles with whenever she sees him on MTV, which gets Byakuya so jealous. That guy that every girl gets the giggles over actually.

"Good evening, Mr. Urahara, was it? I'm fine with it, I suppose. It's really my manager, Yoruichi, you have to apologize to. She's currently talking with the Lifestyle crew," came his deep, husky, voice, which Rukia had heard over and over again, in her car, her stereo, even her freaking iPod!

Ichigo's eyes fell on the back of Rukia's frame and were already eager to see her face to face. She looked like an angel to him. She turned around to face him and he was pretty sure the breath was smashed right out of him.

A/N: Here begins my new story you guys! Drop me a review! Tell me what you think. Some feedback should be good. I've got some great ideas for this story I'm just itching to type out but first I'll need a little motivation from you guys to continue! The next chapter would be the official meeting of Ichigo Kurosaki and Rukia Kuchiki, and the interview! Also what will happen when Yoruichi finally gets her claws on Urahara? Heheh… I put them both as the managers for a reason *hint hint*

So if I get some good feedback, the new chapter will be up soon XD

Jaa Ne,

IchigoRukiaforever

P.S: I have NOT, NOT abandoned my story Something About You! In fact, I'm halfway through the next chapter! Oh, and I still love David Archuleta! 8D