Chapter 29: The Angel and the Ripped Pants

I cannot take it anymore.

Fuji and Daiki have been banned from being within 50 feet of each other by the school principal.

(After Daiki 'accidentally' broadcast Fuji's 8th-grade 'Poetry Club Recital' over the school PA system.)

(And Fuji 'accidentally' reported Daiki's manager's car for illegal parking. It got towed.)

I need to escape.

Friday night.

My mom saves me.

"Aoi-chan," she says, handing me a laminated pass. "My company is sponsoring the 'Rising Star' concert. I need you to drop off this file to the stage manager."

"Mom, I hate idol music," I groan.

"It comes with a backstage pass," she winks. "And it gets you out of the house. Go have some fun."

Out of the house.

Away from my phone.

(Which is still exploding.)

It's perfect.

I go.

The stadium is chaos.

Screaming fans everywhere.

I use my pass. I get backstage.

It's even more chaotic.

People in headsets are running.

"MOVE! MOVE! HE'S ON IN FIVE!"

I am lost.

I am just looking for the stage manager's office.

I hate this.

I turn a corner.

I open a door that says 'Dressing Room 3'.

It's not the office.

It's panic.

"NONONO! THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING!"

A guy is standing in front of a mirror.

He has short yellow hair.

He is stupidly handsome.

(Why is every new guy I meet stupidly handsome?)

He is wearing a sparkly stage outfit.

And he is hyperventilating.

"My pants!" he wails. "They RIPPED!"

He turns. He sees me.

His eyes go wide.

"OH, THANK GOD! WARDROBE! You saved me!"

He grabs me.

He spins me around.

"LOOK!" he yells, pointing at his butt.

There is a giant, six-inch rip right down the seam.

"I did a squat! A warm-up squat! And it tore! I'm ON IN TWO MINUTES! You HAVE TO FIX ME!"

I stare.

My 'Bloody Twilight' mode is on.

"One," I say, my voice dead. "I am not 'Wardrobe'. Two. I do not care about your pants."

The yellow-haired guy freezes.

He slowly turns to face me.

He really looks at me.

His panicked expression melts.

It's replaced by pure awe.

"Whoa..." he breathes.

(Why do they keep saying that?)

"You're not staff?" he whispers.

"No."

"You're gorgeous," he says. "Like an angry anime character. The tsundere rival! Oh, I LOVE IT!"

What?

"You have to help me!" he gasps, grabbing my shoulders. "My career is on the line! Please! Just find me a safety pin!"

He shakes me.

"Or just hit me! Slap me! Maybe the shock will mend the fabric!"

This guy is twenty (according to the poster on the wall: 'HIROTO SUZUME! LIVE!').

And he is a complete LUNATIC.