Memory Files

Once Mukashi picked up the chair and took the shroud out, Miya's instructor walked back in. She sighed sharply as he immediately began to put her through her exercises again. She groaned internally as she did as she was told.
     It was hard for her to get her focus back after the conversation she'd had with Mukashi, but she forced herself to keep going. It didn't matter how she felt at the moment; she needed to do her best for herself, her fans, and her career. Her movements became more calm and collected even as her mind shouted two things to her on repeat: 
     Do better.
     Don't stop.
     The voice in her mind became so loud and oppressive that it eventually became nothing but noise; a constant sound she heard in the background, but not something she comprehended consciously. She'd gotten used to her internal voice shouting at her early on in her career; the only reason she was struggling with it that day was because of how she'd acted in the morning. 
     She stumbled and nearly fell over in the middle of a reverse spin on her left heel. She caught herself, but her instructor frowned.
     "What are you doing? You need to focus completely on your routine right now! We are building muscle memory for you Miya! You need to be able to do this without thinking about it, and the only way to do that is to get all the thinking out of the way now!" He snapped at her. 
     She cowered and shrunk into herself as her instructor yelled at her.
     "Stop that; you're distressing her." 
     The instructor faltered and stuttered as Mukashi's voice cut through the gymnasium. His anger and disappointment towards Miya disappeared completely and was replaced by a look of terror.
     "Y-yes sir." The instructor said meekly. 
     Miya looked at Mukashi as he stood near the wall of the gymnasium's entrance. He was still looking directly at her. He gestured for her to resume her training. She nodded, and then began listening to her instructor intently. 
     Mukashi watched Miya practice. 
     She was athletic and acrobatic; each dance step was nigh perfect; her hair flew through the air beautifully as she obeyed her instructor's every word expertly. Even when he had tempted her with the opportunity to 'bare all' to the public with regards to her note, she'd seen through it within the same day. Her business sense was keen; not as keen as his, but it would certainly surpass many licensed managers. 
     Mukashi leaned against the wall next to the large metal doors and began scanning the filing cabinets housed in his mind. He went past his childhood memories, strolled beyond the ones from his high school years, and bypassed his memories of college entirely. Once he reached the memories of the last seven years, he began looking through the files of his previous clients. 
     He'd managed the group 'Neatle,' for two years; but that wasn't relevant to the current situation. It was a boy band and their main issue had been conflicts between members. He'd stood by and guided those rowdy boys along the path to stardom up until the point where they became 'too big for him to manage,' in the words of the company, at which point he was no longer allowed to be their manager.
     He remembered how he'd worked with the singular K-Pop artist 'Parii' for two years. She'd been interesting, but she hadn't been anywhere near as talented as Miya. He'd done too well as her manager; he was still slightly displeased with the fact that his management of her had been cancelled after she became an international sensation because she was 'too much of a handful for a new manager like you.' 
     Then there was Miya. He opened the files containing his memories of her and began sifting through them calmly. 
     Unlike with Neatle and Parii, Mukashi hadn't been assigned to Miya by the company. She'd chosen him to be her manager when she first joined Zygeist Media as an official trainee. She'd been all alone when she arrived; a no-name nineteen year old without a home to return to. He still couldn't believe that she'd actually made it into Zygeist's program, but she had. 
     When he'd met her, he had only been slightly impressed. She was beautiful, but beauty wasn't enough to become a superstar. Still, she had been very enthusiastic about her training, so he'd told himself that this was another chance to prove his managerial skill. He'd been prepared for a long and grueling journey with Miya to the top; a test of his dedication.
     As he opened the file that contained the memories of his first year with her, he sighed. 
     She'd been stellar; each exercise she was instructed to do, she did with strength and grace after only a few days of trying. Her vocals were rough, but she'd managed to improve them drastically within the first two months, to the point that her current voice was almost incomparable to her old one. Even the tight sleep schedule and grueling hours, which usually crushed most recruits and trainees into the dust, had only taken her a single month to adjust to.
     He put away her first year file and grabbed the memories of her from the last six months. 
     Her concerts hadn't been any different; her songs hadn't significantly changed; her physical health wasn't in decline. She hadn't talked about any of the things that people who were considering ending it all usually did. He chided himself as he put the file away and realized that she'd been trained for the last three years to conceal her feelings and play the part of a perfect performer.
     Once again, he was too good at his job.
     He thought about what he could do to fix the situation, but realized that he was already doing everything he could: he'd promised to let her read some letters and had organized a meeting between other performers for her to attend. 
     He stepped out of his mind and looked at his watch. It was nearly one forty five in the afternoon. He glanced up at Miya as she danced throughout the gymnasium & nodded satisfactorily. Without saying anything, he walked out of the gymnasium and stepped into the transitory hallway. 
     He heard noise coming from the men's locker room and saw one of the other managers standing next to the elevator. 
     "Chi-Hun." Mukashi said calmly as he stepped to the elevator and pushed the call button.
     "Il-Sun." Replied the other manager. "I already told my boys that they won't get to use the gymnasium today. They all still needed showers though, so we're just using these."
     Mukashi glanced at Chi-Hun, his sharp gray eyes scanning the lesser manager coldly.
     "You have your own facilities. You're spoiling them."
     Chi-Hun's professional smile tensed. 
     "Well, some of us have to manage actual people." Chi-Hun replied sharply. "You have it easy, managing Miya. The rest of us are stuck dealing with mortals."
     "Miya is a person." Mukashi said calmly.
     "Right." Chi-Hun said with a sigh. "I suppose she does look like one."
     The doors to the elevator opened. As Mukashi stepped inside, he heard Chi-Hun call out to him.
     "Though you're not a good judge of humanity."
     The doors closed and Mukashi pressed the button to take him to the fourth floor. He briefly thought about what Chi-Hun had said, then filed it away. He looked at his watch again, seeing that it was already one forty five. He put his arm to his side and stood still until the elevator reached his destination. He stepped off the elevator onto the Zygeist Media's cafeteria floor. He passed by several other managers and their clients as he made his way towards the South American part of the cafeteria. Each step he took was purposeful and powerful, so much so that a path through the crowd seemed to magically appear before him: managers, idols, and kitchen staff all cleared out of his way until he stood in front of the counter that had the Latin American food.
     "H-here you go, sir." Said one of the kitchen staff; a meek girl with blonde hair and an angular face. If it weren't for her weak voice and slightly uneven eyes, she might've had potential. 
     "Thank you." He said politely as he took the bag of food from her and bowed slightly, then stepped away from her and back towards the elevator. 
     People cleared out of his way as he walked, and by the time he returned to the gymnasium, it was only one fifty three. He was two minutes ahead of schedule. He stood next to the large metal doors and looked at Miya as she did her last few exercises. She was doing so well, and he was sure that the letters combined with the meet-up would alleviate her of her negative thoughts. He glanced at his watch one last time.
     "Miya, it's time for lunch."