The Price of Fame

"You wanted to show me the beach?"

"Don't sound so ungrateful," Roxas chided, letting a handful of sand spill through his fingers like a broken hourglass. The sun was a blistering white-hot globe in the sky and slathered Naminé's UV-ray defenseless skin in waves of palpable heat. "The beach is great, especially if you haven't been there in over a century."

"Do you enjoy making me feel guilty?" Naminé muttered and shielded her eyes with the back of her hand. She really didn't understand why he wanted to come to this beach.

Sunrise Beach was a small stretch of sand located towards the mostly uninhabited border of Twilight Town. Compared to the miles of waves encompassing Destiny Islands, it really wasn't anything more than a dinky tourist spot waiting to become another over-priced resort, but the denizens of the perpetually hazy world never seemed to mind. They bobbed through the water, built sandcastles, and played volleyball as though the grains stuck between their toes were an endless path that they had mutually agreed not to follow.

Roxas hid his smirk under a serious façade. "Is that a rhetorical question or should I be formulating a brilliant response?"

Naminé clenched her hands into claws, tempted to throttle the infuriating genie. "It was…never mind. You don't even have a bathing suit, but go soak your clothes in the ocean and look like a complete idiot. I don't care." As if to prove a point, Naminé pulled out her cellphone and started to flick through the latest posts on Facebook.

Roxas took note of the variations of swimwear nearby and a smirk pulled at his lips until it had curved into a wide grin. Magic started to tingle at the ends of his fingertips, a hot white flurry of visible sizzles that stretched and stretched until they made a flickering chain around both the master of the magic and his sulking superior.

Naminé gasped, but no one around them echoed her sentiment or bowled through dunes of sand to Instagram the moment. "H-How…?" Then her eyes narrowed, moving to the porcupine headed genie. "You. You did something, didn't you?"

"I did two somethings, actually. Look down."

Reflexively, the flaxen haired girl followed the command. A heavy gloom settled upon her face, irises flicking in size as though trying to decide how best to convey a mixture of shock, embarrassment, and anger.

The fabric that stretched across her skin was minimal and bright red with a set of straps that coiled around her neck to prevent any wardrobe malfunctions. The bottom mimicked any other bikini she had seen, except for the small waterfall of lighter colored fabric that cascaded down her thigh on one side flirtatiously.

Naminé clutched at her exposed body in a desperate attempt to hide it from prying eyes, not caring if her fingers left permanent bruises along her naked ribcage. "C-Change me back, you perv! This was not a part of our deal."

"Me, the perverted one? That's strange since you're the one who's been ogling me since our little transformation, my dear Naminé." Roxas tapped the tip of his mistress' nose and winked, a mirthful smile dancing in his eyes.

The flush in her face rivaled that of a ripe tomato, and abashed, Naminé snapped her gaze to the sand sinking between her toes. "I have not!"

There was no way in hell she had been gawking at his flawless physique. The smooth tan sinews of skin, muscle artfully sculpted into tantalizing biceps…No. She had not even spared him a glance. In fact, she had no idea that the swim trunks he was wearing had a thin checkered band clinging to his hips. Absolutely no clue.

"Your face says otherwise," Roxas pointed out with a sly smirk, "but I'll pretend that you're right since I am at your service."

The genie then disappeared in a puff of smoke; he was riding on top of the waves within seconds, a sweating glass of mango juice in one hand as he reclined further against the plastic chaise.

Naminé's left eyed twitched.

She stormed through the sand and into the water until it reached the tips of her shoulders.

"…Really?"

Roxas sighed contentedly, his blue eyes lazily watching the water bob against her exposed skin in soft waves. "You should really learn how to relax, Naminé. You look tense."

"…"

"Aw, c'mon, there's room up here for one more." Roxas scooched over, eliciting a squeaking noise. When she still didn't say anything, Roxas leaned forward and whispered silkily. "If you're worried about how you look, don't. That bikini is incredibly sexy on you and—WHAAA"

Naminé yanked the chaise down, forcing the genie to fall into the gold tinged waves with a huge splash. Roxas resurfaced only seconds later and watched his mistress stalk to the beach's gates.

"I'm going back to the shop."

"You know, most women would take that as a compliment!" Roxas called.

Naminé ignored him. 'Idiot…doesn't he have any manners?'

She didn't have to look back to know that he was trailing her. It was obvious. His footfalls were heavy and threw mountains of sand across several beach towels. Of course, only a few of the patrons released disgruntled sighs. The majority merely swooned.

"…Could you stop following me? It's really annoying."

Her hand was on the gate, ready to walk home (bitterly) in her bikini. She might have been overreacting, but still…her celestial companion needed a good slap upside the head and etiquette lessons.

"I would but, you know, the whole being your genie thing doesn't exactly make that easy," Roxas quipped lightly.

Naminé pursed her lips tighter. "…"

"Look," Roxas sighed theatrically, "I'm really, really sorry for what happened. I just thought we could have a little fun before you made your next wish, and I haven't been to the beach in centuries. And by centuries I mean-."

"I know. Centuries," Naminé deadpanned. A part of her still felt guilty. The cosmic wish-granter was a nuisance, but to be freed time and again only to be imprisoned for years…Naminé couldn't imagine how an existence like that was worth fulfilling. "…Let's just get back to the shop, alright? I need to help Grandpa close up before five."

Roxas tilted his head up to the sky and blinked. "It's hardly three o'clock. Don't you want to go into town for a little while or make a wish? I heard Disney World's a lot of fun. Not that we would need to go today, but my magic could set us up for a flight faster than you can—"

"Just change us back into normal clothes so we can walk home," Naminé said and, without thinking, pressed a finger against his lips with a gossamer smile. Roxas' cheeks warmed, eyes darting from the finger against his lips to the gentle expression on his mistress' face. He changed them both into their previous attire without a word or puff of obnoxious smoke.

TWTWTWTW

"Thanks for helping Grandpa with dinner. I can't cook to save my life," Naminé added the last part with a nervous laugh. Her hands, alongside Roxas', scrubbed the visible plaque off the dishes in an easy rhythm.

It had felt weird having dinner with the genie. He was irritating, but equally sweet and more than willing to slice a bucket of potatoes. Maybe it was simply in his job description to play house maid while awaiting his master's next wish? It would make sense. His existence hinged on pleasing others.

But still…Naminé had almost felt like, in that brief time together, they had somehow become a family. An odd, highly dysfunctional family, but a family nonetheless; something Naminé hadn't experienced since her mother left. Her Grandpa was family too, but with his health slowly deteriorating over the years, Naminé started to feel the icy loneliness slowly creeping into her heart again.

Roxas shrugged, wiping the wet plate dry to put back in the cupboard. "Your grandfather's a nice man. Plus, with such a lazy granddaughter, I couldn't let him just do everything himself. That man is overworked as it is."

The positive thoughts swirling around her head burst into red flames.

"I was trying to be nice you jerk!"

Roxas sniggered at the blonde as she momentarily stormed off into the living room only to return seconds later to furiously scrub more of the dishware.

"I thought that was supposed to be your dramatic exit?"

"I'm not going to let you win," Naminé grumbled. The sponge in her hand nearly ripped as she pushed it against the china harder. Fortunately, no cracks began to spiderweb along the surface.

Roxas quirked a brow, his interest piqued. "Win? Win what? I didn't know we were competing, especially considering I'm at your service."

"I am not lazy," Naminé muttered childishly. Her bangs acted as a curtain, shielding her growing blush from Roxas' probing gaze.

When Roxas laughed, Naminé hit him with a splash of foamy water. Roxas was tempted to retaliate, but decided it would be in his best interest to resist—even if he really liked making the blonde blush.

The silence between them extended into a tiny infinity of rushing water and clinking glass before it shattered into the repentant whisper she hadn't been expecting.

"I don't think you're actually lazy. A little impulsive, but not lazy."

Naminé kept her eyes from him but couldn't keep the bubbling laughter from permeating the air in soft, tinkling chimes.

"Always have to add that side note, huh? Your apology would have been flawless if you had just left that out."

"I know," Roxas said airily, "but why make you more jealous than you already are of me? Now, that would have been cruel."

"Shut up." But even her half-hearted attempt at chastising him was unconvincing.

TWTWTWTW

"I'll be visiting some old friends in Traverse Town this weekend, so you and Roxas will have to hold down the fort while I'm gone," Grandpa said in between shoveling chunks of muffin into his mouth.

Roxas made them, of course. The genie had acquired a ridiculous amount of skills over the past millennia, and, having taken up residence at the apartment above their shop for the past two weeks, was determined to make himself useful.

Grandpa was more than happy to reward his ambition. He never outwardly complained, but the grimace that took over his expression any time his granddaughter prepared him something to eat was an obvious enough indicator that his stomach was suffering daily injustices.

"You just have fun, Grandpa…and remember to take you medicine," Naminé added. She then quickly checked the cupboards to make sure her grandfather had included them amongst his travel bags; one of which was bandaged together with enough duct tape to rewrap a mummy.

Grandpa chuckled but shooed away her concerns. "I'll be fine, Naminé. Just don't burn down the shop while I'm gone."

Roxas' shoulders shook with budding laughter; an action that earned him a death glare from his mistress. Grandpa ignored the usual romantic tension between the two and grabbed the predominately silver bag hanging off of his chair.

Naminé broke her searing gaze from Roxas to help her grandpa to the door, waiting a few minutes before shutting the door and turning back to the smiling genie.

"Don't you say any—"

"So, have you thought about what you want as your second wish?" The question was abrupt and left Naminé fumbling to form a coherent sentence.

It was a sensible question to ask, but still, she was thrown off guard.

"Wha..? So soon? I mean it's only been—"

"Two weeks since you made your last wish," Roxas finished. His face had become an impassive, stone wall: completely unreadable.

Naminé dodged his expectant eyes and started moving a pile of clean dishes back into the cupboard above the sink. "What is there some sort of expiration date on my wishes or something?" The blonde stretched her body to reach the top shelf, but her fingertips barely brushed the top of the wood.

"No," Roxas answered and took the glass platter from her hands. He placed it neatly within a larger dish. "I just thought you would have been ready by now, that's all."

"I've thought about it, but with the deadline for art submissions due Thursday and Grandpa out of town, I haven't really wanted to make any wishes."

That and maybe she was starting to grow accustomed to the genie's presence in her life.

Roxas smiled understandingly at first, but then his expression morphed into confusion as he glanced back at the calendar hanging adjacent to the store's landline. "But it's Friday today."

Naminé laughed uneasily. "No, it's Wednesday. You've been here since—" She stopped herself short before scrambling over to the calendar herself.

The blonde shook her head, desperately checking her phone until her frantic anxiety melted into despairing defeat. "How could I have let this happen?"

Sure, there had been a few excursions since Roxas had been with them, but she shouldn't have become this distracted.

"I never would have had a chance anyway, but…I at least wanted to try."

"Try what?"

Naminé sighed and pulled up an advertisement on her phone. The chalk writing was bright and contrasted well against its backdrop of blacktop. Roxas tilted the phone screen slightly so that he could make out the details of the prize listed.

"Spotlight artist? What does that even mean?"

"It means," Naminé snatched the phone back, "that my artwork would be featured at the Twilight Art exhibit for an entire year. I was planning on entering this year, but then…" Naminé smiled sadly and moved into the living room.

Roxas followed, watching as she drew a sketchbook from inside the piano bench at the corner of the room. The old grandfather clock's heart stuttered beside them for a single pulse before Roxas took a seat on the bench beside her. The wood was worn, an antique in its own right and fit easily into the old-fashioned decoration scheme.

The genie was surprised by the lack of dust coating each piece of furniture since more than a few of the items sold in the shop wore the creeping dust bunnies like fur coats. But everything in the room was well attended.

"You're really good," he commented.

Naminé's fingers faltered, nearly tearing the end of one of the pages. "Huh? Oh, yeah…thanks. It's always been my dream to become a famous artist one day and have my work in art museums across the worlds. I know it's silly, but—"

"This might sound like cheating," Roxas interrupted softly, "but my magic can make that dream come true. I may not know all the repercussions, but fame can't have that many drawbacks, right? It's not like you'd be the Sultan or something."

"…but…that still sounds selfish and narcissistic, doesn't it?" Naminé fired back, but her voice wavered.

"Well, yeah," Roxas admitted with a small chuckle.

"I really want this…I do, but…is this really okay?" Her fingers were now rapidly flicking the tips of her the vanilla sheets. Roxas stopped her hand and brought it back onto her lap. A nervous heat tingled across the skin he had touched, but if her genie had felt anything, he didn't show it. His eyes had moved to her recent drawing of a golden beach and a golden-haired figure lounging through the waves with a tropical drink in one hand.

"Naminé," he chided gently, "your art is amazing, but life isn't always fair and, sadly, you're not immortal. This could be the only chance you have to take control of your destiny."

"I know, but—"

"No buts. Just decide," Roxas instructed.

Naminé sucked in a large breath and squeezed her eyes shut. "I wish…"

TWTWTWTWTW

"Oh my God, it's really her! Naminé! Over here, Naminé!"

Throngs of people held out prints of the artist's work to be signed. Reporters swarmed like bees to honey, and Naminé found herself breathless from the excited laughter trilling from her lips. Armed with a pen in each hand, she autographed her name in what appeared to the naked eye as pointless scribbles. She answered questions about the world-wide phenomenon that was her first art exhibit.

She felt like a celebrity.

The venue for her debut, a castle in the Enchanted Dominion, was in the most incredible sight in all of the worlds. Huge glass cases containing her work lined walls with gold trim. A crystal chandelier suspended by a single chain provided prisms of honey-colored light. Streams of new admirers were constantly flooding into the room, a large oval, to gawk at her work.

Waiters with palates of fancily arranged dishes careened through the waves of people.

One photographer, a man with hair the color of cotton candy, approached her for a picture. "Lovely work, Miss Kawada. May I have a picture? It's for the newspaper."

Ecstasy bubbled out her mouth in the form of a girlish giggle. "Of course. I'm sure the designer of this dress would appreciate it."

The flash of light from the camera enveloped her for a fleeting second. The pink-haired man smiled and held a thumbs up at her performance. The woman beside her, a distinguished, middle-aged brunette, lightly grabbed the artists' elbow.

"May I have a word with you, Miss Kawada?"

"Of course."

The woman continued to hold onto her elbow as they walked to an unoccupied corner of the gallery. The light wasn't as strong, but Naminé had no trouble seeing the subtle wrinkles pulling at the woman's eyes.

Naminé felt her elbow be released, unconsciously stretching the muscles that had been restrained as she did her best to create a mental barrier between herself and curious gazes of the onlookers.

"I know the exhibit has only just begun, but I wanted to speak to you in regards to the center piece you have displayed," the woman whispered quietly, one hand cupped secretively around her painted lips.

"You mean the panorama?" Without thinking, the blonde cast a sideways glance towards the long strip of canvas. It had taken her nearly an entire season to finish that piece, but it was the first to be completed. Naminé had been so taken back by the breath of hazy hues of sunset that blew across the town that she had to capture the moment before her memory failed her.

The woman nodded hastily, her voice now a distressed hiss, "Yes, yes, that one. Now, I know some of my colleagues have been eyeing it up since they got here, but I want you to know that I will pay any amount necessary to have your work in my private collection."

When Naminé was too shocked to reply, the woman added with even more fervor. "I'm willing to offer you 200,000 munny guaranteed. Those fools won't be willing to pay even half that. They'll try and swindle—Miss Kawada?"

The number echoed in Naminé's head again and again. 200,000 munny! For her art? She was tempted to pinch herself, but that might have looked odd to her new patron. That or the middle-aged woman would laugh since surely that was only a small sum to a person of her social standing.

"I…I…"

"She'll get back to you as soon as she can," Roxas interjected, suddenly at her side. He had been watching her off to the side, hidden in the shadows with twinkling eyes nearly as bright as her own; but now, it was time for him to escort the shell-shocked maiden back to her senses. "Naminé has many clients who would love to have her work in their homes, so the best offer has to be made before she can accept."

"How dare you! My offer is the best she'll get!" the woman fumed. She cast a heated glance to the artist herself.

Naminé's imagination, however, was still running amok, leaving her lips sealed save for a nervous giggle that escaped here and there.

"Like I said," Roxas retorted plainly, "she'll get back to you once all the offers have been made. But I wouldn't be too worried, if yours is really the best offer, that painting will be hanging on your walls in no time."

He mock saluted her and ushered his mistress into the shadows to regain her composure.

TWTWTW

The rush from her newfound fame wore on Naminé's nerves quickly. Nearly a week had passed and the media (alongside her new fanbase) was relentless. Articles, pictures, and other forms of social media commented on everything she did.

"I'm not even an actress or anything, so why do they care so much?" Naminé grumbled, closing the blinds to her grandfather's shop with a cringe when one man pressed his face against the window before the slits completely hid the herd of hungry followers from her view.

She then faced Roxas; the genie was dusting the top of a glass lamp.

"I don't know. You said famous artist. Maybe fame has a different meaning than it did the last time I granted wishes."

Roxas really hadn't expected this reaction. He had assumed fame meant Naminé would be commissioned for a piece by some hot-shot royalty. Not hounded by every living, breathing art admirer.

"Ugh…I'm going for a walk," Naminé announced. She snatched a set of keys from a hook on the wall and stuck them in the purse sitting behind the main counter.

Roxas called out to her as she left out the back. "Can you pick me up something to eat while you're out there? I'm starved."

He could no longer see the blonde but knew she was rolling her eyes at his request. "Fine."

Naminé had planned on just walking aimlessly around town to clear her thoughts, but she supposed she could find the genie something to eat while she was out.

The café was only a few blocks away and Naminé needed a little sugar herself. 'Hopefully, Belle will have made those really good French pastries again. I'm sure Roxas would really like them too.'

The blonde's lips curled into a dreamy smile, her sandaled feet slapping against the ground in an unintentional rhythm. Only a few passersby took note of the dazed woman, but none approached her; they liked art but weren't fanatics like the lunatics plastered to the front of her family's shop.

She drew close enough so that the little brick chimney of the café came into view, pushing puffs of smoke into the greying skies in earnest. Naminé stopped to check for her wallet.

"Ms. Kawada?"

The deep voice sent a chill down her spine, but Naminé turned around, forcing her lips into a polite smile.

"Yes?"

The man was at least a foot taller than her and had shaggy rose hair that fell past his shoulders. There was a charm about him, a slickness in even his attire that made Naminé want to suppress her instinct. The smooth slacks and button-down shirt made him seem less creepy and more business-like.

Naminé then noticed the expensive camera in his hands and some of her muscles relaxed despite the nagging voice in the back of her head.

"You're a photographer?"

The man's blue eyes gleamed and he eagerly stepped forward to take her hand. "Marluxia de Flora at your service."

She hesitated a moment before fitting her hand into his own. His grip was grossly moist but firm. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. de Flora, but was there something you needed?" Unconsciously, she wiped the sweat of his hand on her shorts. Marluxia's eye twitched.

"Actually," he said, "I do. I was at the gala a couple of weeks ago taking photographs and realized that I never managed to get a single photo of you alone."

"Just me?" She parroted. The air was starting to grow thick and uncomfortable, but Naminé didn't move.

Marluxia nodded, his eagerness growing as he created a frame around her face with his fingers. "Yeah, and I know the perfect place."

Naminé's stomach dropped further when she saw the broken gate that led into what had once been the infamous hangout spot for the teenagers in Twilight Town. Occasionally, there were a few teens skulking around during the day (no doubt playing hooky), but since a mall had been added to the clustered city, the young adults had deserted their old haunt in favor of the small collection of shops and newly renovated movie theater.

"Uhh…"

"It would really make a great artistic backdrop," Marluxia pressed, sensing her apprehension, "and I already know exactly what poses you should do."

That made her more uncomfortable, and she clutched her bag harder against her pounding heart. Something was wrong and she needed to leave. "I-I actually have to get going so now's not a good time."

The pink-haired photographer's eyes narrowed despite the smile taut on his lips. "You can't be serious, can you? You're famous now. This is what the fans want."

"I'm sorry, but I have to go," Naminé said, her voice tighter. She began to walk towards the café again but found a hand twisting her backwards before a scream could crawl its way up her throat.

Marluxia had yanked her against his chest. Everyone had gone inside to work, so they were alone on the sidewalk now. He started leading her towards the gnarled wire gates, his grip becoming an iron cage around her middle.

"I have not been following you around for the last two weeks to be rejected like this. I will get what I want." His tone darkened at the last word and the pummeling her rib cage was experiencing from her heart stopped as she felt a sicker connotation slip into her mind.

"L-Let me go!" Naminé shrieked, defiantly aiming kicks wherever she could.

Marluxia hissed at her but not in pain. Her attacks were ineffective against his strong frame, but her screeches were bringing neighbors to their windows. "Just shut up already! I don't need to be arrested—"

"I believe that's the point of her screaming," a new voice said before his foot met the creepy man's face in a perfectly timed round-house kick.

Marluxia staggered back, wide-eyed as blood began dribbling from his nose. Between the impact and his shock, Naminé had slipped from her captor's grasp and ran over to her spiky-haired hero.

"Roxas," she breathed in what sounded like a mix between relief and hysteria, "W-What are you doing here—did your, like, genie senses start tingling?"

"Uhh," Roxas sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, "as heroic as that would make me sound, I was actually coming to tell you that I decided to order Chinese so you didn't have to get me anything after all, but then I heard a scream and, well…here I am…" His nervous laughter followed and Naminé would have joined in at how typically 'Roxas' that was, but the fear in her stomach was still a hard, lump of ice that refused to melt.

"Y-You broke m-my no-nose!" Marluxia sputtered in a deep but nasally sounding voice. "You do realize that I could sue you for that, right?"

Roxas snorted. "And I believe she could counter-sue you for attempted kidnap and sexual harassment, but really, who's keeping track? A judge might, but that's if we take this little matter to court and if you don't leave her alone."

Marluxia seemed to weigh his chances in his mind for a moment, but quickly darted from their sight the minute Roxas brought his stern gaze back down to his mistress.

"Are you okay?"

Naminé rubbed her side gingerly but nodded. "Yeah, thanks to you. That wish…I'm so stupid. All this fame has done is given me a headache and my own personal stalker."

"You're not stupid, Naminé. I am, and I'm going to make things right." Roxas' hands had begun to glow an ethereal white, but Naminé stopped him with a desperate shout.

"If you do this, does that mean my third wish is…used up?" She didn't want more stalkers or rabid fans. Fame had proved to be something she wanted nothing to do with, but losing Roxas…?

The light in his hands dispersed, and the genie cocked his head. "What? No, of course not. I said I'd fix this, so it's free of charge."

"You can do that?"

He hesitated and Naminé sensed that he was hiding something. "My magic…has rules, but it is my magic. And plus, I've been trying to think of someway to properly apologize to you for the whole beach incident."

His tone was light and jovial, but Naminé still pursed her lips with uncertainty. "But…what are the consequences of these 'rules?' Roxas, I can't—" She stopped midsentence. The blonde couldn't say it. She hadn't known him that long.

"Don't worry about it," Roxas assured, but there were cracks starting to ruin his cheerful façade, "Everything will work out the way it's supposed to. Trust me"

A litany of protests lodged in her throat; a blush started to tingle through her cheeks. Roxas grinned and despite the new wave of smoke emitting from his fingertips, she could still see the crooked line of his lips.

'Roxas…what's going to happen to you…to us?'

TWTWTWTW

:O I can't believe this didn't get posted sooner. Like, even I, Queen of Tardy Updates, am genuinely surprised it took me this long to update. That said, however, I'm glad that my own writing has improved and that I was at least able to give everyone a longer chapter before the grand finale. The characterizations I've given Roxas and Namine have been really fun to write (very anime-like I think at times), so it'll be sad to be finished.

So, sorry again to everyone who checked online for an update. I hope you'll continue to lend your support because seeing your reviews, favorites, and follows really does bring a smile to my face:)

Also, so sad to hear about Robin William's death in August. I think a part of my childhood died... :(((((((

Finally, thank you to Gengajupite for his beta-ing as always:)