Thursday, 13 August 2009
09:31:09 PM (GMT)
*3rd Person POV*
“One more pocketknife for Kozi…” Gackt continued, passing the sleek pocketknife
over to Kozi, who grinned mischievously.
“And a handgun, plus two tazers for myself,” he finished, stashing the weapons in
his huge pockets of his black jacket. “Now girls. Do you understand, now that you
have seen first hand, that we are fully armed and loaded?”
All five nodded.
“And do you understand that any attempt at escape will be foiled in a dreadful and
possibly painful way?”
Five more nods.
“Then get changed. We’re going out for dinner.”
He left the room, Katie trailing dutifully behind him.
“These pants are perfect!” I commented, adjusting my new outfit with a skinny
“Very pretty,” Yu~ki agreed from behind me.
I finished applying my fresh coat of dark lipstick as Mana did the same.
“GOOORGEOUS!” I sang, flipping my hair and examining the new dress. Kozi nodded
“EEK!” I yelled, feverishly attempting to pull my dress down as far as possible.
Kami rolled his eyes.
“Wow,” I smiled, looking myself up and down in the mirror. “This is pretty
“Mmhmm,” Gackt hummed from his own mirror.
“A limo?” Kacie asked disapprovingly, eyeing the car disdainfully.
“A limo,” Gackt replied simply, and one by one, they crowded into the long, black
and purple car.
Inside, the car seemed a lot larger that it had from the outside. It was just very
basic black upholstery, with seats lining the sides and a small crystal chandelier
hanging from the middle. Basically, it was a fancy-bus. Kozi chose to climb into the
front seat to drive, leaving the others to lounge around in the back.
Katie and Gackt rested shoulder-to-shoulder, enjoying the feeling of the car speeding
over the bumps in the road. Plus the result of said bumps, which was usually the two
touching briefly every time the car shifted.
Courtney and Yu~ki were sitting next to each other awkwardly, not quite recovered
from the Pocky incident earlier. Every time they bumped hands, Courtney gave quite a
startled jump and shuffled herself as far away as possible in their “limited”
Kacie sat like a stone statue that had been petrified into a sitting position, while
Kami lounged, totally relaxed, against the back of his seat.
Rachel and Mana were holding hands gently, staring at each other with an odd
And poor Frenchie, left all alone due to her captor being chauffer, was left at the
very end of the limo, all by her lonesome. Not that she really minded, really, but it
would have been nice to have a little company in the huge back space of the car.
Luckily, the drive was quite a short one.
The J-Rock Café was quite the hangout spot that was both conveniently close and
conveniently cheap (Well, that is, cheap to the members of Malice Mizer. The girls
maybe thought it was…around 1,000 times too pricy for their own tastes, but anyway.
Back to the story).
They filed out of the automobile (Kozi had a valet take it to a parking spot) and
were greeted with the beautiful sight that was the J-Rock café.
First off was the entrance. It was a pure black door with a small sign over it that
said ‘Members and Permitted Guests ONLY” in fancy dark ink that screamed
“FANCY ALL PREP SOCIETYYYYYYYYYYYY!”
But once you stepped through said door, a wonderful thing occurs. You make the
initial switch from the real world, that is, the clammy cold streets of the city, and
enter into a cozy, dark realm that was the café’s big selling point.
The walls were painted a beautiful deep red and black, and speckled on the paint were
Sharpie autographs of all the people that had been there. The tables were long and
made of dark black wood, and the chairs were small and sleek, each one a piece of
modern art. Lighting was scarce, but the patrons didn’t seem to mind; all were
talking merrily in the candlelight that illuminated each table except for the larger
“I must have a word with the owner,” Gackt said quickly, and he swept away from
the group. Kozi walked up to the nearest waiter (who was also sporting the ‘Hot
Topic Threw Up On Me’ look) and requested the biggest table in the room. Which was
conveniently located in the middle of the entire café, a huge lamp hanging above it
and pointing directly down to its occupants.
Gackt returned to the group, looking a slight bit satisfied.
“What did you do?” Frenchie said nervously.
“Paid the host about two grand to make sure that none of you leave,” Gackt
responded, laughing a bit as he and Katie skipped over to the table, arm-in-arm.
Yu~ki I Courtney
Rachel I Mana
Kami I Kozi
Gackt I Frenchie
Katie I Kacie
(Er, the “I’s” stand for the table. Pshyeah.)
There was no particular seating order (except that Katie and Gackt were nigh
inseparable, so they naturally sat next to each other.) The others just plopped down
into the nearest seats available and got ready for the scene to come.
*SWITCH TO KATIE’S POV*
I leaned back in my chair and sighed.
“Something really interesting needs to happen,” I said to myself, glancing toward
Gackt with a bored expression.
Little did I know that, about two feet behind me, something very interesting was
“Gackt-san?” said a melodic, deep voice from behind me.
I swiveled my chair around and saw him.
A man, wearing a dark black trenchcoat over a dark black sleeve shirt and dark black
pants. His dark black hair (okay, this adjective is getting redundant, I know, bear
with me) covered part of his pale face, hanging down past his chin. His eyes were
sparkling with energy, and his complexion seemed like a work of art, an antique, one
that was way too pretty to break.
Over from across the table, I saw French’s eyes light up.
“It’s me, remember?” said the mystery man, holding out his arms in a gesture of
“…Klaha?” Gackt said unsurely, and mystery man nodded. “Klaha!”
A quick, awkward embrace (you know what it’s like, hugging someone that’s sitting
“What do you need, darling?” Gackt said, turning back around in his seat.
“To show you this,” the man who is now referred to as Klaha said, brandishing a
small sheet of paper. “The battle of the bands is next weekend, you know! You
should read this…”
Gackt snatched the piece of paper and read it twice over, giving it a typical
“And?” he said uncaringly.
“It means…well, you need my help more than you need,” Klaha said, shrugging,
“Plus, I would love to get to know these lovely girls that you have with you.”
And by ‘lovely girls’, you could tell he totally meant ‘just that one pretty
one over there, with the dark brown hair and the pink dress’ by the direction that
he was looking.
After giving said French a quick wink, he continued, “Can we find a way to
Gackt nodded, stood up from his chair, and quickly pulled the man aside.
As Gackt talked, we saw Klaha’s eyes change from shock, to interest, to pure
“He knows,” Gackt said, sitting back down in his chair, “About the…
‘conditions’ to why you are staying with us.”
We all nodded, understanding that he had just filled Klaha in on the kidnapping.
Suddenly, Kacie sprung up from her seat.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” she said brusquely, and without another word, she
stomped off to the small room in the back that said “Ladies.”
All us girls shrugged.
“Is this seat taken?” Klaha said, gesturing to the seat beside French (that had
once been Kacie’s, but now was being stolen). She gave him a quick “Yes!” in a
squeaky voice, and he sat down gracefully.
Was it me, or did I see Kozi’s jaw clench a little?
“So…what’s your name?” Klaha said in a Romantic Lover Voice ™
“French,” she murmured back, refusing to meet his gaze, “Frenchie by
“Well, I hope that I’ll soon be allowed to call you Frenchie, darling,” he said
softly, taking her gloved hand in his own and giving it a quick kiss.
I rolled my eyes.
What a womanizing romance whore. Ignoring the fact that he was hot, I rolled my eyes
twice for definition.
“But either way, Gackt,” Klaha said, turning his attention back to my OTL, “I
understand that with whatever trouble you’re planning…You’re going to need a
lot of work to pull anything off. He is smarter than you think.”
“Who’s HE?” I said curiously, cutting into their conversation.
“Er…HE’s right there, in the table next to us,” Klaha said, motioning to a
slightly smaller table off to my right. Front and center was seated a dark haired
Japanese man, wearing bright pink pants and a zebra patterned shirt.
“Miyavi!” I squeaked, almost jumping out of my seat. Gackt shot me a quick glare,
to which I responded with “What? I like the whole guitar-slapping thing. Nothing
more.” I enforced that comment by blowing a quick kiss over to Gackt with a sappish
expression on my face.
“Somebody say my name?” I heard a light voice say, and that’s when I remembered
that Miyavi had great hearing as well.
“I did,” I admitted, tucking a strand of pink hair behind my ear.
“Ah! Gackt, I thought I noticed that stoic, bland expression when I glanced your
way,” Miyavi said cheerfully, jingling with every step as he walked towards us.
“What were you talking about, persay, love?”
“About your horrid lack of fashion sense and sucky guitar playing skills,” I said
quickly. Hey, I owed Gackt one. I just paid it back two-fold.
“I’m honored you think so,” Miyavi said with the same happy expression, “I
always thought that pink pants were a little tacky.”
I felt the need to murmur ‘sorry’ to him, but I was afraid that Gackt might catch
“Battle of the Bands is coming up, dear Gackt,” Miyavi said with a cocky glance
to my captor, “And you’re planning to win? Well…I have trick aces up my sleeve.
Undiscovered talent, you see.
He gestured to the four other people sitting at the table with him, who all stood up
and walked over simultaneously.
“Meet-,” Miyavi began, but we cut in as fast as knives cut through melted
“RYAN?” I exclaimed.
“CODY?” Frenchie screamed.
“DAN?” Courtney yelled.
“GABE?” Rachel shrieked.
“KATIE?” Ryan yelled.
“FRENCHIE?” Cody shrieked.
“COURTNEY?” Dan exclaimed.
“RACHEL?” Gabe screamed.
“ROCKY!” Kami yelled.
“DR. SCOTT!” Kozi yelled.
“BRAD!” Klaha yelled.
“JANET!” Yu~ki yelled.
“ENOUGH!” Gackt finished, and we all hushed down immediately under his regal
tone. “Hem hem…You all know each other?” His questioning look was directed at
“Ex boyfriend,” I replied, pointing to my tall, skinny, extremely uncoordinated
ex that stared at me with his puppy dog eyes.
“Ex boyfriend,” Frenchie said grudgingly, gesturing at the blonde-haired stick
man that stood grinning arrogantly near her.
“Ex boyfriend,” Courtney murmured, refusing to meet the bespectacled,
emo-shwoop-hair-ed man that was looking at her.
“Ex boyfriend,” Rachel commented, sighing as the surfer-style brunette gave her a
sly wink and a small wolf whistle.
“Irony is a many-faceted thing,” Gackt mumbled, and everyone (including Miyavi
and the exes) shook their heads in agreement.
“Anyways,” Miyavi continued on, “We have a weapon that you can’t have, being
your tied-down-gothic-loli selves. Don’t you understand?”
He walked past each one of us, looking us all in the eyes.
“You make fun, but I’m the one attempting to do some good! Or do you really want
a neighborhood where men wear dresses, or wear makeup?” Mana shot him a deep glare
from the bottom of his soul. “Visual kei is just a fallacy in your heads, darlings.
This is not the old days. Your ‘Bohemia’ is dead.”
And with a smirk, he returned to his seat, awaiting an answer.
And I gave him one.
I feel a musical number coming on.
Kacie sat in the bathroom stall, a panicked expression on her face as she waited for
someone to walk in.
Within a few seconds, someone did, jabbering away on a cell phone.
“Hey, can I borrow that phone?” she tried, but the person merely shot poor Kacie
an evil look before entering the stall next to her.
In a quick step, I jumped up onto the table.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to say our goodbyes!” I announced in a
somber voice as if reading at a funeral, “Here it lies! Visual kei! No one knew its
worth. That late great daughter of gothic Earth! On these nights, when we’re
driving in a hearse…In this little town of To-k-yo, we raise our glass! You bet
your ass! To…”
I gave a quick glance to Gackt, whose eyes stared up at me with a gleeful,
“…La Vie Boheme.”
I raised my glass, took a long draught of iced tea, and tossed it onto the floor,
where it shattered into a million pieces in front of Miyavi.
“La Vie Boheme…” they murmured around me. I felt the group’s energy coursing
through me; I didn’t stop as I felt the tempo pick up.
“Today’s of inspiration! Playing hooky…Making something outta nothing! The need
to EXPRESS! To communicate. To going against the grain, going insane, going MAD. To
loving tension with no pension! To more than one dimension! To starving for
attention! Hating convention! Hating pretention! Not to mention, of course, hating
dear old mom and dad!”
The buzz was rising; captives and captors alike stood up from their seats, stomping
their feet and clapping to the music that was seemingly coming from nowhere.
“To riding your bike midday past the three-piece suits! TO FRUITS. To no absolutes.
To absolutes! To choice. To the village’s voice. To any passing fad!”
I felt Gackt hug my legs as I stood at the edge of the table.
“To being…an us, for once,” I sang, stroking his hair with a slender hand,
“Instead of a ‘them’!”
With a quick hop, I landed right in front of Miyavi, crunching the broken glass under
my platform boots with a satisfying sound.
“La Vie Boheme,” I spat out to his stony face, walking away as I felt the group
echo me loudly.
“La Vie Boheme!”
“LA VIE BOHEME!”
Mana pulled Rachel into a sweet kiss, hugging her at the same time.
I heard Gabe, Rachel’s ex, clear his throat exaggeratedly.
“Hey mister!” she yelled in his direction, “She’s my sister!” And with a
quick peck on Mana’s lips, they returned to their seats.
Suddenly, the waiter (looking like a total spaz trying to go around and take our
orders) walked up to the front of our crowd and began reading off his notepad.
“So…that’s five miso soup, four seaweed salad, three soy burger dinner, two
tofu dog platter…And one pasta with meatless balls.”
“Ew,” I said, pretending to wretch.
“It tastes the same!” Kozi exclaimed defensively.
“If you close your eyes,” replied French sarcastically.
Just a little more….Just a little more…
The cell phone was almost within my reach as it sat on the bathroom floor…
A clawed hand snatched it up and walked out of the stall.
“And thirteen orders of fries, is that it here?” the waiter finished, closing his
notepad and looking at us expectantly.
All the boys chorused at the exact same time:
“WINE AND BEER.”
The not-so-alcoholic girls merely rolled their eyes.
Rachel and Mana took their turn on the top of the table.
“To handcrafted beers made in local breweries!” they chanted,
“To yoga, to yogurt, to rice and beans and cheese!
To leather, to Cheetos, to curry vindaloo!
To huevos rancheros and Maya Angelou!”
Wow, it was a good thing that Katie had liked Rent, or else they most certainly
wouldn’t have known these lyrics.
Klaha and Frenchie kicked everyone else off the table for their duo.
“Emotion! Devotion! To causing a commotion!
Gackt opened his mouth. “Mucho-!”
“-inspiration!” Katie cut it, giving Gackt a playful glare.
Courtney and Yu~ki took the stage.
“Compassion! To fashion! To passion, when it’s new!
To Sontag! To Sondheim! To anything taboo!”
(Aw, heck. Would you guys minded if I went and wrote in casual stage direction lyric
format? No? Thank you.)
KAMI and KOZI: Ginsberg! Dilan! Cunningham and Cage!
KOZI: Lenny Bruce!
KAMI: Langston Hughes…
FRENCH (dramatic, leaning over table): To the STAGE!
ALL: To Uta! Abbuda! Pablo Neruda, too!”
[Katie stands on table, acting ditzy and dumb, while Gackt crawls along on the floor
as if on a leash]
KATIE and GACKT: Why Dorothy and Toto went over the rainbow to blow off Auntie Em!
My head snapped up as I felt as if I wanted to punch something.
I continued my attempts to construct a cell phone out of toilet paper and quarters.
ALL: La Vie Boheme!
[Rachel pulls Mana into another kiss, but this one’s a little more…deep.]
GABE (disbelievingly): S..sisters?
BOTH: We’re close.
[KLAHA goes over and gives CODY, FRENCH’S ex, a quick peck on the cheek]
[CODY scoots his chair away quickly as FRENCH laughs and hi-fives KLAHA]
ALL: Bisexuals! TRI-sexuals! HOMOSAPIENS! Carcinogens! Hallucinogens! MEN! Pee-Wee
Herman! German wine, turpentine, Getrude Stine, Antonioni, Bertolucci, Kurosawa!
[The group continues singing as Miyavi feverishly calls for the check]
GACKT: In honor of the death of Bohemia, in impromptu salon will commence immediately
following dinner. Katie Anonymous, just back from her spectacular one night
engagement at the eleventh street lot will perform native American tribal chants
backwards through her vocorder while accompanying herself on the electric cello which
she has never studied.
KAMI: And Gackt himself will preview his new documentary about his inability to get a
girl in his room on the high holiday days.
[Rude gestures are shared between the two]
KLAHA: And French, also known as Frenchie to friends, clad only in bubble wrap, will
perform her famous lawn-chair-handcuff dance to the sounds of ice tea being stirred.
FRENCH: And Kami will attempt to write a bittersweet, evocative song.
[Kami hums out a tune]
FRENCH: That was “We Will Rock You”, Kami. We all know it.
RACHEL: Mana will model his new famous-fall-fashions from Paris while accompanying
himself on the ten gallon plastic pickle tub.
Last edited: 13 August 2009