Thirteen Missed Calls

Shigeru's entire world narrowed down to the flickering blue light emitted from the screen of his cellphone. He practically curled around the device with his elbows tucked against his side, forehead pressed to bent knees which had long-since went numb. A sweet-faced young man stared up at him from the screen; he was perpetually frozen in time with a beaming smile and brown curls tossed back by the breeze. He ghosted the tip of his thumb across the man's lips, heartbeat skipping lightly as he recalled the feeling of them against his own.

It was once all he needed to feel his heart soar. But now, his heart sank when the Call Failed notification popped into existence like a firm barrier to keep him from reminiscing further. His eyes slammed shut as though it would will the words away, but once he'd opened them, they remained present and oppressive.

"Please pick up, An-chan…" He whispered, pressing the top of his cellphone to his lips in a facsimile of the kiss he yearned for. It was warm from constant use but lacked the softness of a happy sigh, or the wandering touch of a lover.

Would those also be memories too by the end of the evening?

As Shigeru leant back from the phone, he swiped off the notification and went for his call log in a swift practiced motion. The name settled at the top was joined by a mortifying (13). If anyone else were to see it, they would have thought him completely obsessed. A spurned lover, or an admirer who simply couldn't take a hint,. It felt like proof of guilt in a crime he had no way of admitting to.

His thumb hovered over the contact, wondering if he should press down and start the horrible cycle of waiting anew. It was the anxiousness stirred inside of him which prompted a solution, an escape — perhaps if he'd just given him a moment between calls An-chan would eventually answer. But the longer his cellphone sat between his hands, the hotter it felt and the more it reminded him of the stage.

Oppressive lights beating down like artificial suns blinding him of his sight but allowing the watching audience to plaster their hungry eyes on every inch of his being. Knowing somewhere beyond that relentless glare, a crowd of onlookers were hanging off his every word made his skin crawl. He didn't know where the next sound would come from and tried to keep his attention upon the host whose voice was far too loud, the echo of it still pounding in his head.

The questions his manager offered him were easy. Trivial nonsense for the fans who wanted to know bits of his personal life to join with the image of him in their heads - relationships with previous coworkers, preferences for food and entertainment, even what color underwear he wore.

It was invasive. A sign that the fans loved him, or so the main host - a man with a slicked combover and teeth lined like grave heads - told him. "And since we're on the topic of love," the host said slyly, leaned up against the arm of his chair so close to Shigeru that he could smell the cloying cologne he wore. "I've heard you've got a special connection with someone—"

Shigeru clutched his phone tighter, trying to will always the thought of how that question ended. He looked down at the screen and hesitantly clicked it back on before presing the contact for 'An-chan' again.

The phone rang twice before he heard the soft click, and his breath caught as he brought it to his ear. "A—!"

"What?" The voice on the other end interrupted curtly.

Cold trickled down Shigeru's spine as the words withered on his tongue. He'd never heard him sound like that before. His lips trembled as he searched the opposite wall for an answer, the gears in his mind turning quickly. If he didn't say something soon, he might hang up.

Seized by desperation Shigeru blurted out, "How… H-How are you, An-chan?"

"Fine," An-chan sighed. "Is that all you called to talk about?"

A notch thickened in Shigeru's throat and strangled the words he shouted in his mind.

You used to tell me I could call you about anything.

"Did you remember the interview I had?" Shigeru asked, trying his best to keep his voice light. The terrible tremble in his hands made it feel as if his entire body would come undone.

"Ah, that was today…" An-chan trailed off, laughing softly. Shigeru could almost imagine the way his lips would curl into a smile. It never cut him this deeply before. "Sorry, sorry. I totally forgot about it."

Shigeru furrowed his brows, "Did you.. watch it at least?"

This time, An-chan sucked his teeth, annoyed. "I was busy, man."

You said we should always watch each other's broadcasts if we couldn't be there.

Shigeru bit down on his bottom lip to stifle the flood of words battering against his teeth. Why did everything seem so different now? Why did he seem different?

"… An-chan, did you tell the producers anything about me?"

"Huh? What're you talking about?"

Shigeru swallowed hard, pushing the words past the blockage in his throat. "The questions that were sent to my manager were different than the ones they asked at the end."

"Maybe they changed their mind about what they wanted to know. You're such an open book after all," An-chan said. Shigeru could imagine him shrugging it off and looking at him with that lazy, self-assured look that he was right. Most days, it was all Shigeru needed to put his nerves to rest. Today, it set him on edge.

"They asked about my private life, An-chan…" Shigeru urged, hoping An-chan would understand in the way that he usually did. The unspoken connection between them had always carried their feelings to one another.

Surely, this time —

"You're a hot commodity, of course they'd want to know about you—"

Shigeru's chest tightened. The skin on his bottom lip broke with how viciously he'd bitten down, tearing through flesh as he spat out, "Anzai."

He wouldn't sit here and be talked down to. Not by him, not like this.

"Did you tell them anything, or didn't you?"

There was a moment of silence. A beat too long, it almost felt like a confession with how thickly the tension could be cut. Then in a voice too cold, too detached, to be the man who'd made his heart race, An-chan spoke, "This almost sounds like an interrogation."

Shigeru squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ward off the headache pounding at the walls of his skulls. "I'm not interrogating you. I just want to know because I told no one about that besides you and—"

"Your manager?" An-chan spat with venom coating the word so thoroughly, it almost made Shigeru's ear burn to hear it. "Ha, and your first thought was to come and call me once the cat was out of the bag. Why's that?"

"I just want to be sure," Shigeru said, regretting the words the moment they left his mouth. "I-I just… confronting my manager would mean…"

"Actually sticking up for yourself for once?" An-chan said, a sharpness to his words that made Shigeru flinch.

"An-chan…"

"Don't 'An-chan' me. You started this. Did you not think of them once? OR did you think your precious secrets were so well-kept by the people holding the leash around your neck."

Shigeru pressed the heel of his hand to his eyelids, heat needling at the back of his eyelids. "It isn't like that," he argued, hating how his voice cracked. "They've never been anything but kind to us. Both of us."

"And that's why you're on a talk show and I'm where exactly?"

Shame curled hot in Shigeru's stomach as he muttered, "You needed to recover after the last incident. You know that."

The voice on the other end, because Shigeru couldn't bear to think of it as An-chan's anymore, snorted derisively. "Funny how I'm always having incidents around you."

Shigeru's breath hitched as his voice pitched, "What is that supposed to m—?!"

Before Shigeru could finish the sentence, he felt the heat of his phone leave his hand. He lifted his head with wide-eyes at the person who cheerily cleared his throat before bringing his phone to their ear, "Ahem, hello hello! Sorry, I've gotta borrow my Hota-chan, 'kay? Bye bye!"

Shigeru stared, slack-jawed at the sputtering he could hear coming from the receiver before the stranger pressed a button and the line went dead. "Man," the stranger sighed, sagging back against the wall with Shigeru's phone balanced in the palm of his hand. He lifted his shoulders then dropped them as if the weight of the world rested on them, and smiled down at Shigeru cheekily, "That guy is really loud, huh? Why didn't you hang up on him sooner, Hotaru-kun?"