Disclaimer: CLAMP owns anything and everything having to do with CCS, and I own nothing. Sigh.

Summary: Wannabe journalist Sakura Kinomoto finds herself in an unlikely position as she becomes a fledgling paparazzo and somehow befriends the country's biggest rock star, Syaoran Li, who just so happens to be nursing a broken heart. Add a budding love-hate relationship, an army of ruthless paparazzi and a scandalous past with his actress ex-girlfriend to the mix, and it's goodbye, journalistic integrity and hello, media hell.

Hi, guys! Thanks for taking the time to read my new story. It's definitely different from anything else I've done, but I really think I'm going to enjoy writing it. Please read and leave a review! Oh, and most importantly, please enjoy. :)

radio star

i. superstar

Ask 23-year-old Syaoran Li what the hardest thing about life on the road is, and he'll give you a simple, straight answer: he misses his girlfriend. Li has been on a worldwide tour, the first of its kind for a Japan-based singer, for the last three months. "We live pretty close to each other back home," the rock star says, referring to Tokyo, "so we get to see each other a lot when she's not on location or I'm not on tour. It's been pretty rough being away from her for this long, but we manage." He gives a trademark grin to indicate that he's sincere.

Who is the girl he's talking about? Well, unless you've been living under a rock—no pun intended—you should know. Li has been in a high-profile, highly publicized relationship with A-list actress Mizuki Akizawa, 23, for just over a year and a half now. Even though that might seem like plenty of time for fans everywhere to get used to their favorite singer no longer being on the market, one can still hear their wails all over Asia—they still haven't quite gotten over it. Even so, Li's relationship status has hardly caused his popularity to wane. He consistently garners popularity awards in teen magazines such as Candy and in online polls, and each single he has put out so far has landed in the top five on the Oricon 100, a feat that only a handful of artists can claim. A fluent English speaker, Li even made news overseas by making a guest appearance in the popular American television show Two Stories. The night the episode premiered, his name was among the most highly searched topics worldwide on several popular search engines.

Blessed with messy, boyish good looks, a slightly gruff but incredibly moving voice, guitar skills to boot and a hallmark public charm, Li is one of the most critically acclaimed and popular young musicians of his time. If being a critically acclaimed musician isn't enough—once upon a time, he was a critically acclaimed actor as well.

At a mere 14 years old, Li was on top of the world, setting box-office records for every movie involving his name. Awards seasons came and went, and Li was a constant contender, competing with the best, most of whom were over twice his age.

And then came the transition from actor to serious musician. When he was 16, the public got word that Li's next project would be a big-name musical and that he would play guitar for the score and sing. Doubt of his musical ability resounded throughout the nation, for amidst all of the glory surrounding Li, rumors had always existed in the background that his family, the powerful figures behind Hong Kong-based Li Corporation, tended to buy out directors to boost Li's name.

But the movie eventually came out, and the audiences were proven wrong: the boy could sing. The movie was a hit, Li's biggest to date and yet another record-breaker in the box office. The rest, like they say, should have been history.

However, that's not quite where the story ends. Li was subsequently offered dozens of record contracts and endorsement deals, and for a moment, he was everywhere. But just as he was on the verge of signing with a record company (to this day, no one knows what company he was going to choose; Li has always declined to answer in interviews, and the record labels have been tight-lipped on the matter as well, citing legal restraints), he quietly backed out of both acting and the record deal, and the world was shocked. He went abroad, effectively avoiding most of the paparazzi. Declining interviews and any sort of movie or music offer over the next year, Li had managed to disappear altogether from the entertainment industry.

But two years ago, just shy of 21 years old, Li made a comeback as a rock artist. With a huge fan base still intact, he was received with open arms, and now, he's doing what he loves, even if it means bearing the weight of paparazzi and screaming teenage fangirls. But the perks aren't so bad, either—he's currently on a sold-out tour around the globe, and both of his albums have gone multi-platinum. He's set to wrap up his tour in a month, and the star is eager to go home and see his girlfriend, who has also just finished filming the highly anticipated "Wishing Well."

"She's fantastic," he says, beaming. "She's so independent and smart, and she's got a killer sense of humor—that's something I love in a girl. There's something so special about her. I feel lucky as hell to even know her, let alone be her boyfriend."

Although, as we mentioned before, his fans can't seem to get over it; Li, however, is completely aware of the matter, and he doesn't mind too much. "They can get pretty crazy sometimes," Li chuckles. "But hey, they're dedicated. And I love them for that."

Superstardom, a great girlfriend, and the adoration of all of Asia (and possibly after this tour, the world)—check, check, and check. So, what's next for Syaoran Li?

"I've got a few things up my sleeve," he grins. "Just wait and see."

We're more than looking forward to it.

"'Beaming,' huh?" A young man tossed the magazine article down on his coffee table and ran a hand through unruly chestnut hair. He shuffled down the hallway of his condo and walked into a neat, orderly bathroom, feeling sick to his stomach and wondering why he'd gotten out of bed.

Struggling to piece together moments from the night before, he leaned over the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. He nearly jumped back in surprise. He looked awful. There were bags under his amber eyes, which were bloodshot and worn; his hair, messier than usual, stuck out in ten different directions; and his face was days-unshaven, making him look dirty and unkempt. On top of that, he could tell that he reeked of alcohol and cigarettes from his outing, and a nauseating mixture of perfume and sex pervaded his nostrils. He winced at the memories, knowing he had been far too reckless, and he wondered how he had even managed to get home.

"Syaoran, you need to pull yourself together," the man muttered to his reflection.

Syaoran Li had spent the past three nights out until the early hours of the day until he'd crash at random, unfamiliar houses before slinking back home. It was an atypically irresponsible thing of him to do—he was usually one of the more reserved celebrities out there, and keeping out of the tabloids was his own personal way of getting back at the paparazzi. Of course, that had all come crashing down a month ago, when a personal matter of his had been splashed across the covers of every major gossip magazine on the continent. Even certain tabloids in Europe and North America had picked it up to an extent. He'd been hanging on by a thread since then, trying to keep it together, but he'd given up completely when he heard three of the harshest words of his life: Syaoran, it's over.

Four days ago, his girlfriend had broken up with him. He'd "celebrated" by spending the next three days in a cloudy haze of alcohol and clubs and girls, going home with them, sleeping with them, and then leaving them bewildered and upset as he took off in the early morning, knowing that the quantity of women he slept with would not soothe the hurt that only one woman had given him.

Stepping into the shower, he felt sick with regret over those last three nights. They'd obviously harmed more than helped. As much as he hated to admit it, he still had an awful feeling in his stomach, one that had nothing to do with a hangover, for he was still very much in love with his ex-girlfriend.

The article he'd read upon waking was about three months old—he was most definitely not on top of the world anymore. Two months ago, one of the dedicated fans he'd spoken of had actually climbed from balcony to balcony until she'd reached his balcony after his concert and knocked on his window until he noticed her. Frightened for her life—she'd been clinging to a balcony railing twenty stories above the ground—he'd pulled her off of the railing and into his room, had a brief chat with her, taken a few pictures with her, given her an autograph, and sent her on her way. It had been a particularly odd experience, but he'd thought nothing of it besides briefly pondering the insanity that was young fan culture, and he'd seen no need to call security.

He'd regretted it the next morning, when he saw pictures of him pulling her into his room all over the tabloids. Accusations of his infidelity to Mizuki Akizawa rose up quickly, and no one seemed to believe that he hadn't done anything with the girl, especially when that same girl decided that she liked the attention and lied to everyone, claiming that he'd had sex with her and using the pictures of her in his room as "evidence." Of course, loyal members of his fan base reasoned the truth—that he had perhaps been rescuing an overzealous fan—but they were in the minority, and they stood little chance against the media's sensationalism. After all, the girl had pictures. It was hard to argue with that.

Mizuki had seemed to believe him for the first few days, but it seemed that after awhile, the media had gotten to her, too, and Syaoran felt himself gradually losing her until she finally broke up with him.

It wasn't as if he hadn't expected it—it hadn't taken him by surprise at all. Initially, he'd had faith in Mizuki, whom he had known for two years before he even began to date her. They were good friends before they ever became a couple, and he had figured that it would take more than a little scandal to break them apart. However, as some time had passed and the reports got worse—and, in his opinion, more ridiculous—it was as though he could see her expression gradually getting more tired, more hesitant, day by day. And then, after a certain point, he knew that no matter how strong their relationship was, it was unlikely to last under the weight of the press. He'd actually been expecting it with growing dread as each day passed. But when she'd done it, he still felt a sort of shock go through his entire system. He felt as though he wouldn't recover from that shock for a long while.

But the world wouldn't wait for Syaoran to recover, because if it did, that would only mean countless more photographs and thousands more words centered around how his life was falling apart, and he wouldn't have that. He wanted to beat them, prove to them that he was capable of coming back. And so he was picking himself up, piece by piece.

After checking his messages and mail from the last three days, he collapsed back onto his sofa and closed his eyes, sighing tiredly. He hadn't bothered to answer most of them yet; most were frantic calls from his PR team, his manager, his agent, and so on.

"What a mess," he muttered to himself. Not opening his eyes, he reached around blindly for a remote until he found it, turned on the radio, and listened to the morning news.

"Waaaaaaake up, Tokyo," an overly chipper voice crooned out of the speakers. "It's Monday, the sixth of June, and it's currently seven in the morning. To all of you driving to work, be careful—it's been raining on and off all week, and we're due for a severe thunderstorm this afternoon, most likely after three..."

Syaoran listened to the DJ go through his dailies—weather, world news, local news, sports—with an absent mind, trying to figure out what to do next.

At the moment, he was in a bit of a slump. He definitely didn't feel like the superstar that that magazine article had made him out to be. He marveled at how much could change in such a short span of time. And he was waiting for it, waiting to hear the confirmation that his life was a huge wreck—and sure enough, here it was, just in time. The sports news had just finished, and now came entertainment... He froze, still not opening his eyes, but listening intently.

"In entertainment news, singer Syaoran Li was spotted out jogging last week, wearing sunglasses and a hoodie, perhaps in hopes of going unnoticed. No such luck, though; many got pictures of his left hand, where, as fans know, he always wore a silver ring. His girlfriend, actress Mizuki Akizawa, wore a similar ring on her left hand as well and confirmed months ago that the rings were promise rings.

"But note that I said he wore a silver ring—as I said before, photographers got pictures of his left hand, and the ring was noticeably not there anymore. Now, we've been speculating about this couple for the last month, ever since Li's incident with his one of his fans, but both Akizawa and Li have vehemently denied any breakup since then. But what with the separate appearances at recent red carpet events and increasingly fewer instances of them spotted together, many have wondered if the couple is on the rocks. The absence of his promise ring has only fueled our suspicion. Many are saying that they've seen Akizawa out and about without her ring as well. These two can deny all they want, but—"

Finally opening his eyes, Syaoran turned off the radio before he could hear anymore. He felt a sort of sick satisfaction in hearing it on public radio, that everything was over.

Of course, they didn't know that everything was over. But it'd only be a matter of time before he and Mizuki grew weary of keeping up the charade, and pretty soon, their representatives would most likely announce that Syaoran Li and Mizuki Akizawa were officially no longer a couple, but that they still meant very much to each other and would remain close friends.

What bullshit.

Hearing his cell phone vibrating against the coffee table, Syaoran glanced at the screen and debated picking up before finally doing so. He held the phone against his ear and tried to get in a say before the caller could.

"Meiling," he muttered into the phone, knowing he was in for it, "I—"

"SYAORAN LI, MAY I ASK WHERE THE FUCK YOU'VE BEEN FOR THE LAST THREE DAYS? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY MESSAGES I'VE LEFT YOU, HOW MANY HOURS I'VE SPENT TRYING TO REACH YOU, YOU SELFISH FUCKING PRICK—"

"Good morning to you, too," he said, holding the phone away from his ear with his right hand and rubbing one side of his temples tiredly with his left. Oh, how he hated hangovers.

"Don't you start with me," Meiling said, her voice venomous. "You have wasted seventy-two hours of my precious time. SEVENTY-TWO HOURS. Do you know how much money that is? Do you realize how many handlers you nearly sent into panic-induced heart attacks, how many people we've had to cancel on, how many events you've missed?"

Syaoran remained silent, not knowing what to say. He'd never pulled this kind of stunt before.

"Oh, so you're going to ignore me now. Real mature."

He sighed. "I'm sorry," he said reluctantly, but he meant it.

This time, it was Meiling who took her time before responding; it seemed even she could tell how beaten down he sounded. When she finally spoke, the malice in her voice was gone. "Are you all right?"

"It's been a little rough," he admitted, running his hand over his face. "But I'm back on track," he added quickly, "and I'll work on everything. You can take whatever expenses my absence has incurred out of my bank account."

"Syaoran..." Meiling's voice was soft, and Syaoran winced at the overflow of sympathy he heard in it. "You know it's not the end of the world. You're still so young, you have plenty of chances to find someone—"

"I don't want to talk about it," he said, more gruffly than he meant to. "I'll deal with it later. Can we just... Can we figure out how to fix this shitstorm for now?"

He heard nothing for a few moments, and then Meiling sighed before going into business mode. "All right. Well, first things first—I've been talking with Mizuki's representative, and we've agreed to jointly release a statement that you two aren't together anymore. The split was amicable, and it had been coming for a long time now. It had nothing to do with the fan incident; if anything, that incident made your friendship stronger because it tested your faith in each other. You'd never faced anything like that in your career before and she helped you through the particularly hard parts. However, the timing wasn't right, and you two already felt that you were growing apart career-wise because you needed to focus on your music, and she's going abroad for six months to film her next movie. Sound good?"

"Great," Syaoran muttered, ignoring the unpleasant rush that flooded his system as he listened to the breakup story that had been fabricated for him.

"Okay. Now, regarding the phone interview you missed two days ago..."

He couldn't help but tune out as Meiling continued. Indeed, he was determined to pull himself back together, but he was so tired. As much as he loved the lifestyle he led, he quite loathed the gossip that came with it. He had been such a private person all his life, and that clashed fiercely with his career path. And now that an issue with which he much preferred to deal alone, on his own terms, had arisen in his life, it was to be scattered all over the media, and on the basis of a lie, at that. It would have been a laughable situation if the whole thing didn't make him feel so hollow.

"...and since we need you to lie low for awhile, maybe you could get back in the studio and record some of those songs you've been writing while you're waiting. We need to make the most of all the time that's been given to us, you know? And that way, I can tell the press honestly that you're just burying yourself in work and that's why you've been so absent from the media circuit. There's not a lot they could twist around from that, at least not without sounding catty."

Syaoran sighed as he heard Meiling's voice come back into focus. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good."

"Okay. Okay," she repeated, seemingly more to herself the second time around. "Things are looking a little more in order. As long as the public reacts well to our cover stories, even if they're not perfect—and I think they will, because scandal or breakup or nothing, you're still pretty big in the industry—you're golden. I have to make some other phone calls now. Is there anything you needed?"

"No, I'm fine," Syaoran responded, relieved that the call was ending. "Sorry about the mess," he said awkwardly, scratching his head. He wasn't used to apologizing.

"Well, thankfully, I haven't heard anything about any paparazzi catching you on your little post-breakup rampage. And it's the first time you've had a slip-up like this, and I know it's not in your character to just go missing for days at a time. As long as it doesn't become a habit, it's nothing I can't fix. You know that."

"Yeah."

"All right. I'll shoot you a text later. Er... And one more thing..."

"What?" Syaoran said warily.

"Matsura wanted you back in the studio starting today, if I could get a hold of you... He's a little pissed, you know?"

"Yeah..." Syaoran couldn't bring himself to complain; he knew he had wasted a great deal of money and may have even gotten some people fired in the wake of his three days' disappearance. As such, he knew he had no right to dispute what really wasn't terribly hard work as far as his schedule went. Still, he did not look forward to the idea of dragging himself out of his apartment for the day, and he had a fleeting suspicion that Hideki Matsura, the head of the record label to which Syaoran was signed, had made this order more out of rebuke than out of a true need for Syaoran to work. Although he watched over Syaoran the way a father would, it also meant he could be a little overbearing.

Meiling seemed to be able to hear all of this in Syaoran's one-word response. "Yeah... Look, tell you what. I'll pull some strings. Take today off, regroup... And get yourself in the studio first thing tomorrow morning, okay?"

"Thanks, Meiling."

"I'm only doing this so Auntie Yelan doesn't come after me for overworking you."

"Right," Syaoran said, feeling himself grin a little.

After the phone call ended, Syaoran had to resist the urge to get back in bed. Just that little discussion had drained him. Meiling, his PR agent, manager, and representative since his comeback and his closest cousin, was wonderful at what she did—but she was so good at it because she was so aggressive, and it could be exhausting at times like these. He could tell that she was worried about him, but she also knew that he didn't react well to sympathy. Because she preferred, like most people, not to press his buttons, she was all-business about the matter, but Syaoran couldn't figure out if that was what he wanted.

Deciding to go for a jog to clear his head a little, he headed to his room, stripping himself and throwing on a t-shirt and shorts. When he pulled a pair of socks out of his dresser drawer, he glanced at the silver promise ring that lay on the dresser top, standing out brightly against the dark cherry wood. Narrowing his eyes at it, he found himself tempted to throw it away, but he instead grabbed his sneakers and walked out the door. Like everything else in his life, he'd figure out what to do with it later.

"Mr. Li, when exactly did you and Miss Akizawa end your relationship?"

"Was the breakup nasty?"

"Have you been seeing another woman?"

"How will this affect your music?"

"What about the fan who climbed your balcony a month ago? Are you still in contact with her?"

"Syaoran, Syaoran, look here, smile for the camera—"

Slam.

Syaoran sighed, satisfied that the sound of the car door closing had effectively cut off the sound of all the reporters asking questions, of their cameras clicking.

"What, the paparazzi is on a first-name basis with me now?" he muttered dryly.

Meiling, who'd been beside him the entire time, snickered. "Just be glad they haven't given you a nickname yet."

"If they start calling me 'Syao' or some shit like that, some noses might end up being broken."

"Not on my watch. We're trying to fix your image, remember?" Meiling said, a hint of seriousness to her voice as the driver began to move the car away from the blinding flashes of the cameras.

Four days had passed since Meiling and Mizuki's representative had released the confirmation of Syaoran's breakup. They had done so through a joint statement in Hito magazine, which presented the best cross between mainstream and reliable celebrity news. All had gone as planned; as Meiling had predicted, the general press had received the news relatively well, running the story without any kind of nasty commentary—save for the tabloids, but that was to be expected. A quick scanning of online forums and fansites, however, showed that fans in general were still speculative, as most (rightly) believed the scandal and the breakup to be too close together to be coincidence. Syaoran had expected this—it was only reasonable, he thought. People weren't stupid. Meiling had also reported, though, that in spite of fans' doubt, their words weren't harsh; most expressed a desire for a successful comeback regardless. Syaoran wouldn't have admitted it, but he was touched by the support.

The paparazzi, of course, were a different story. They hounded Syaoran now more than ever, following him on the streets, waiting outside his apartment, and shoving microphones and cameras in his face, their questions even more intrusive and outlandish than before.

Meiling, however, was a veritable PR wiz, as she was incredibly adept at predicting people's reactions to various situations; it made her strategic planning on point with a near-one hundred percent success rate. She was also firm, aggressive, and good with words, a combination that made her a force to be reckoned with. Thus, Syaoran didn't particularly worry about the handling of his image. While it exasperated him that so many people around him seemed to care what the public's skewed idea of the truth was, he knew whatever damage had been done would be erased sooner than later, if he followed Meiling's directions.

And it was under Meiling's direction that they were in the car now, on the way to Hiiragizawa Publications for a meeting. Many of Asia's most popular magazines ran under this publication company, and Meiling hoped to book Syaoran for the covers of several of these magazines six or seven months in advance to coincide with the release of his new album. An additional part of her "battle plan," as she'd called it, was to book him for smaller, non-cover interviews in the meantime. "For these," she'd said to him, "be as honest as you can without doing any damage. Honesty will make you seem more accessible to the public."

Meiling was confident enough in Syaoran's star power to feel certain that they could secure these covers, even after the scandal. And even if they couldn't depend on his star power alone, Syaoran held the ultimate trump card—he had been friends with current vice president and the son of the CEO of Hiiragizawa Publications, Eriol Hiiragizawa, since they were toddlers.

"Still," Meiling had warned, "don't get cocky. These people are doing you a huge favor."

As much as he appreciated Meiling's grand plan to get him back on his feet, he absolutely hated that he couldn't merely tell the truth and go back to doing what he loved. He realized the public's acceptance was important, and he appreciated his fans very much; but why were they so quick to believe the bad when it took a world's worth of effort to convince them of the good? It was a side to his job that he loathed, and running around doing damage repair like this made him feel as though he were being untrue to himself, catering to people who didn't believe in him when he had all he needed—the people who mattered to him certainly believed in him.

"Oh, how lovely," Meiling said wryly, breaking Syaoran out of his thoughts. The car came to a stop in front of Hiiragizawa Publications, and she lowered her sunglasses to get a better look out the window, not that she particularly needed it—the crowd of paparazzi awaiting them between the car and the building would have been quite visible even from a block away. Meiling muttered a few profane words under her breath and turned to Syaoran. "Ready?"

"When am I not?" Syaoran responded, placing his own sunglasses over his eyes, and with that, both stepped out of the car and into the throng of people.

Hito's "Stars to Watch" Profiles: Syaoran Li

Two years prior

SYAORAN LI

Date of Birth: July 13

Where you've seen him: Li was a critically acclaimed child actor, appearing in high-profile films such as Missing Man and the musical Nightlight and holding his own against an impressive roster of veteran actors—Sokori Mizuhara and Azuru Watanabe, to name a few. After years on hiatus, Li is back on the scene, this time as a musician. His first single, Where You Are, just debuted at an impressive no. 12 on the Oricon 100.

What he's doing now: Promotions for Where You Are; he's just wrapped filming for the music video, he says, which puts his acting chops to use. "It's a mini-movie, basically. Pretty dramatic stuff," Li says. Keep an eye out for him as he hits the variety and talk show circuit in the coming weeks.

On Where You Are: "The concept is standard. But I did try to add something different—something with feeling, you know? I wanted the listener to hear it in the words and in my voice, how broken this narrator feels. I hope I got it right."

On his own heartbreak: "Hasn't happened yet," he shrugs. "I haven't had much time for a serious relationship. It was all business when I was a kid, and then on my break, I focused on school and music. And now, I'm so busy that I don't really even have time to sleep, let alone to date."

On his single status: "Well, who's not looking? Even if you say you're not looking for someone, you kind of are subconsciously. I won't say I'm going out of my way to be with anyone, but if someone happens to appear in my life and I realize it, great."

Why he catches our eye: Aside from the obvious—impressive history, stunning good looks, and soulful voice—it seems that Li left the scene as a teenage boy and has come back a true man. Despite some critics saying that the naturally reserved Li seems far too reluctant to reveal much of his true self to the public to maintain his level of popularity, we think his personality actually shines through his interviews. Li is at once humble and confident, precise in what he wants and yet gracious about what he can't have—yet. "I'm not expecting instant stardom or even any kind of crazy level of success," he says, laughing at the prospect when it's proposed to him. "I just kind of wanted to try this out. I've always loved music. I'm surprised I even got on the Oricon 100 with this single. I'm deeply honored." Well, Syaoran, we're not surprised at all; in fact, we expect great, great things from you in the future. No pressure.

That's it for chapter one! Next chapter will be about Sakura. I hope this was a good read so far! I'll definitely be posting soon, as chapter two is already written out and just awaiting some editing. Thank you so much for reading, and please leave a review if you can! Happy holidays.

Love,

boreum dal