The harsh glare of focused lights and camera lenses were hard to escape and sometimes overwhelming. There had been times where idols would come in to train and paparazzi would swarm the gym- catching not only the idols but herself as well. She, of course had been in the lime light. Modelling here and there, a few commercials maybe, though that isn’t her passion, but she had done it before. And the publicity found after doing such, wasn’t desirable in the least. Why did he continue on- why would anyone want to continue on in that sort of lifestyle?
This wasn’t of her character no, but alas she had to relish in the burn of nicotine filling her lungs and escaping though flared nostrils just once more. Hesitant fingers grasp and curl into the cuffs of her sweater, before unfurling only to repeat the previous action. Eliza didn’t feel pressured into smoking, no, because even if it were on her own, she’d have given in at some point. And the guilt she felt about it had long since passed after her teeth sank into the creamy bar of chocolate she’d set down. Extending her hand out towards the male, a brow arches expectantly for the familiar cardboard box to be placed in it. “Might as well. I deserve to treat myself. To hell with health– for right now at least– I just.. just give me the box.”
There wasn’t anything wrong with wanting to cheat a little, unless it had been in the romantic sort of way, then again none of her relationships tend to work out accordingly. Who cares though? As for the male sitting before her she watches him, curiously as white flutters through lips that have told a thousand tales of life and twice as many in scripted lines and critiques to her workout regimen. She hadn’t even known the tremors in her hands had calmed to a stop until she looked, but sadness remained well in the pit of her abdomen and nothing could necessarily ease that. “I think the reason you don’t quit, is because your work has become your life itself. You don’t like it as much as you do when you started out, but you can’t exactly quit since you’ve been doing it this long. That’s what archery is for me. I’ve done it for over twenty years and after my father died, I hadn’t exactly.. wanted to do it anymore. He was the one who taught me, and I wanted to teach others hence why I hold classes for it. But I just.. don’t have the drive or the will. I continue on though.” She pauses, reaching for the candy bar she’d set down to have another bite of it, chuckling lowly to herself.
“You could quit, and live your life beyond the scripts and the prompts, but I’ll still be pestering you whether you like it or not. And I’ll still be making you run whether you like it or not.” More of a threat than a joke- actually a promise that she’d keep, a faint bit of laughter left her lips that the flavor of bitter cocoa lingered on, brows pulling together as she sits herself back in the chair she’d grown comfortable in. “Being an idol isn’t fun.. it’s.. scary almost. I commend you for that much at least- for being an MC, because that’s even harder to do nowadays.”
Something like a grin threatened the corner of his mouth. Nakai was all but surprised by her words, and he extended his half empty carton in her direction. Letting the box drop from his fingers to the inside of her own that waited as if she knew he wouldn’t say no. He’d been the one to suggest it in the first place, he supposed. It only seemed right he complete the offer. And it was always much better to smoke in the company of another than it was to rely on the tart end of his filter as the other silently watched. He figured it was harder for anyone else to judge if they were doing the same. His reasons were mostly selfish, but at this point, he doubted she’d field him much surprise. Though they’d known each other for a short time, he had the feeling he’d made it clear where most of his habits lay.
“To hell with health.” He repeated in low amusement, raising his beer bottle in a short show of acknowledgement. He found the hypocrisy to be intriguing, and couldn’t help but wonder as to how many more hypocrisies lay dormant beneath her skin, simmering right below the surface, waiting to be released. He thought she looked better than she had a few minutes before. Although she was still pale, her mouth was less tight, and he could tell some of the tension had lifted from her shoulders. Whether it had disappeared entirely or retracted for the time being, he couldn’t be sure. But it was a welcome change. She was closer to the Eliza he’d first met, annoyances on the end of her tongue, confidence at her fingertips. As she spoke, he listened, eyes slow as they took in her expression. His hesitancy of before had dissipated for the most part now that he’d gotten his admission out of the way. It was tempting to pretend he hadn’t just extended his insecurity forward like a hand waiting to be shaken. But the thought was too little too late if her words were anything to go by. She wouldn’t forget, and neither would he.
“Don’t know what I’d do with myself if I quit..” Marriage had made itself a place in much of his conversations as of late. A man of his age was expected to have children, a means of which to pass on a legacy. Nakai cared little for the fanfare, but had always hoped to wed, start a family of his own. In many ways he envied his former band mate’s situation, although Kimura’s family had begun unplanned, there was no going back; and he had made it work. Nakai wondered if he could have ever done such a thing. At the time the group had been his entire life, as had his burgeoning variety career. And yet here he sat in his hotel room in the middle of seoul, single and smoking with a woman who had promised to keep him from doing so. He supposed life was never as anyone imagined it would be. “Once I’m back in japan, you can’t do anything. Your scare tactics won’t work on me.” Teasing was his best bet in the face of dismantling what serious atmosphere had strung itself between them. Maybe it was unfair, but he didn’t care. He needed several more beers, and an entirely new pack of smokes before he was willing to veer into that sort of territory.
“You’re commending me? Now I know something’s wrong.” Laughter almost made its way past the cigarette pressed between his lips, but he held it back, honing his gaze on her pale features instead. Her cold sweat had mostly disappeared, but his curiousity remained. The hum of concern was an emotion he’d rather keep under wraps. “How’s about this. I’ll go to that party of yours, so long as you tell me what’s up.”
