Since it appears to be the fashion here, I decided to begin a thread to store my short stories. I suppose it would be neater than having different threads scattered all over the place.
This is my first story here, and I think I'm still attempting to process the whole idea of celebrity fanfiction. There is so much we do not know...but one does one's best.
Do fire away if you spot mistakes. I get cold easily, so flames will warm my toes nicely.
Ianua
The number you have dialled is no longer in service. Please tr---
Click. She stared at the reflective screen, eyes crossing back and forth across six inches of space. Then she blinked, and put it away.
Or threw. A lot more than six inches. More likely sixty. Possibly more. She wasn't counting, not interested in calculating the bounce and angle the oblong object made in its unscheduled flight towards the nearest solid object.
The distinctive crack as something splintered was very loud in her room. She stared after it, her vision perfectly clear no matter what her eyes appeared to be. Or perhaps not; for a strange fog of something resembling fury was clouding her vision, yet tempered by a cold, brutal practicality.
You walked away from them first. You knew things were never going to be the same again. That same rationality grated harshly in her mind, a guttural sound rising in her throat, but never making it out. She squeezed her eyes shut, opened and closed a fist.
Opened her eyes again, stared at the far wall. Success was writ large all over there, the fruits of her determination and efforts. She had worked hard, harder than her somewhat relaxed personality indicated. Played as hard as she worked, the key to maintaining her equilibrium, unlike a certain someone.
Youth was an asset she intended to take advantage of while it lasted. Tanaka Reina was many things, but above all she was opportunistic. She saw the main chance, and took it. Took it, and ran with it.
With no regrets. That was the kind of person she was. Life was too short to worry about the big things. Or rather, the fun part of life was too short. The problem with life, especially in Japan, was that it stretched out way over time, long past the body's use-by date. Terribly inconvenient, but that was just how things were in this modern world.
Live fast, die young. Preferably beautiful and admired. Reina's goals were simple, yet complicated. Complicatedly simple, and simply complicated.
At least she had a goal. A principle, if you could put it that way. It was important to have dreams.
Had been dreams that led her here, right now, part of Morning Musume and slavered over by legions of drooling wota. Alright, so maybe the last bit was not quite as appealing, but it still gave her some sense of satisfaction. Triumph, even.
Reina was attractive and she knew it. She had not hesitated to play up her appeal, adopting that manga-esque look that she knew she could pull off with ease. She knew what made those guys tick. She used to hang out with their kind when she was younger and a lot meaner. Not that she was any less mean now, but she knew better than to let it show.
If there was something all these years in the Japanese idol industry had taught her, it was that the men liked their female idols pure and pliable --- yet always just out of reach.
Nothing was more exciting than the unattainable. Reina understood there, drew that knowledge around her like a cloak of power, transformed herself to that ideal. She had had her share of relationships, just adolescent flings to tell the truth; but she knew better than to let them get too serious or even big enough to get noticed.
She was a normal girl after all. She had her needs. Unconsciously, she began to pace, hands folded behind her back, tapping a twitchy rhythm against her wrist.
Not that there was much space to pace in. That part of her room was always just a tad too small. Reina paused, restless yet lethargic; torn between the need to go out and do something, or to just lie down and stare at the ceiling. Maybe even sleep, if she lay there long enough.
The glint of her abandoned cellphone caught her eye in the glow of lava lamp by her dresser, and feeling just a little guilty about mistreating it given how it held so many of her contacts, she bent to retrieve it. Awkward fingers tended to the much maligned object, soothing the imaginary scratches from its polished casing.
One of which was not quite so imaginary. Reina's face split into a grimace that reflected the jagged crack dividing the screen of her phone almost evenly in two. It had not been her phone's fault that some of her old pals had ditched her; she should not have taken her frustrations out on it.
Tracing one finger almost sorrowfully down that angry gash, Reina once more saw herself reflected in that shiny screen. It shone all the more clearly now that the power was off, knocked out in the rough tumble it took. The dark surface was a void; it took in everything and revealed all at the same time.
Reina lifted her finger, watched the crack dividing two faces: one dead, one alive.
On one side, beautifully unmarred, a sparkling gem polished to meet the spotlight of public scrutiny.
The other, marred and twisted, a warped representation that simulated rage. Of unfulfilled potential.
Reina smiled, and it split evenly. Glass to face, face to glass.
Two halves of One.
A game of spot the reference seems like the right thing to do now. What does the title mean? And rest assured, it does mean something.
Hel's Glade is a play on Hell's Gate. Just so you are aware of it.
Do read and review.
Topic: Hel's Glade (Read 5165 times)