Cover, Blown

“No,” Hayami finished. She slumped against the vending machine and dragged her body downward. “No, you couldn’t be.”

The Viscount raised his annoyingly immaculate eyebrow. “I’d appreciate it if you stopped talking to yourself and assumed other people could read your thoughts.”

Hayami shifted her weight, grimacing as cold water squelched between her toes. “Um… definitely not. You couldn’t be Akira from Perchance to Dream. I mean… there’s no way. Some… some goody two-shoes pompous ass like him? He couldn't emulate the innate sadism necessary to embody the vampire lords of Kindred.”

“Now hold on just a second.” The audio crackled, followed by the sound of a very human throat clearing. “I’d like to believe he is more than capable of expressing the complex dimensions of human emotion. In fact, I find some kinship in him. We are both... powerful, and successful to boot.”

“H-How can a K-pop idol like him be powerful? To become successful as he is… he had to have surrendered all of his power… his agency. He’s famous for apologizing to his group members just because h-he missed a high-five, you know.”

“For a girl who was groveling on the ground for a virtual NPC’s attention five minutes ago, you sure judge other people a lot,” he drawled. “At least he doesn’t have to turn to a video game to feel liked by somebody.”

“W-Why do you care? I don’t hurt anybody doing this,” she mumbled, pulling her knees to her chest. “I keep to myself. I’m happy like this.”

“Sure, sure. I mean, whatever helps you sleep better at night, right? I mean, who wants wealth, fame and the feeling of being loved anyway?”

“T-There!” Hayami’s voice pitched up. She pointed a shaking finger at the phone screen. “This is what I mean. Unlike idols, y-you can freely express yourself. You really think Akira is capable of a personality like that?”

She pulled her hand back, tucking it under her arm for warmth.

“I bet deep down,” she mumbled, “he’s just as much of a loser as me.”

After a moment, Lucien’s model leaned further into the screen.

“Well, isn’t this something?” he purred. “When she’s exclusively hating on Akira, the girl grows a spine. Go on. Tell me more about how empty he really is.”

Hayami didn’t need more motivation to rip into everything Akira stands for. “Guys like Akira... they’re hollow inside. They have to be. If h-he had a personality, it would ruin everything. Fans like H-Hina’s groupies wouldn’t be able to project themselves onto him.”

She gestured vaguely at the rain-soaked street, ignoring the mystery actor.

“He’s stalked and monitored 24/7, r-right? So the ‘Nice Guy’ mask has to be on constantly. He c-can’t get angry. He can’t be sarcastic. He has to infantilize himself—giving out free face-cards for fanpages, doing finger-hearts…”

Hayami looked back at the screen and stared directly at the Viscount’s model.

“He can’t have self-respect because he’s sold it off. So n-no, he can’t act like a Viscount. People will never know the real him because there is no real him anymore.”

She let out a bitter sigh.

“But you know what’s really tragic? Akira isn't substantive enough to last the next decade. Like so many idols before him, h-he’ll be forgotten, because he possesses as much depth as a water puddle.”

She traced a pattern on her wet knee.

“And sooner or later, when he hits his thirties, he’ll be discarded like some… some broken toy for the next generation of idols.”

“So he’s discardable, huh? Because of his candy-coated personality?”

“Yeah.”

“Clearly, being nice gets you no respect. Maybe Akira should stop bothering.”

“And s-sink his career? He’s too scared to. Just like m-me.”

“Ignoring how you both have entirely different circumstances, let’s paint a scenario,” he murmured. “Hypothetically… Let’s say Akira decides to stop being scared.”

The count’s digital eyes narrowed, pinning her in place.

“Would you like a demonstration, Miss Laurens? Would you like me to embody him to assuage your assumptions and tell you what I think he really thinks? For just one moment.”

Hayami shivered. He was challenging her. The way he’s going about it was totally immersion-breaking. But at this point, Hayami will take what she can get.

“Please.”

The Viscount chuckled.

“Akira is perfectly aware that he’s selling a duped version of himself. He’s perfectly aware of the price to make it to K-pop stardom, just as he’s aware of the consequences if the truth of his nature got out. You identify that he presents a very unrealistic version of himself, but how much have you underestimated the amount of resentment he holds?”

“These l-lines are s-so corny…”

“Yet you eat them up all the same, don’t you?” Lucien smiled. “So he asks again, do you know exactly how much resentment he holds?”

“...A lot.”

“That’s right. He’s studied all the ways and at which angle he presents his body so that it makes you scream. He knows exactly how to lower his voice to make your knees give out. It’s precisely how he’s been able to control himself for so long. But eventually, seeing through people for how shallow they really are gets too tiring. Eventually, like a kettle, the pressure and the heat will become unbearable. Miss Laurens… would you like to know just exactly how much steam you can handle?"

Hayami wasn’t sure how much of this stupid man’s voice she’d be able to take.

He laughed softly. Her weakness must have shown in her silence.

“I can picture you right now. Rotting on your bed, desperate to prove you’re immune to his whims. But you’re not, are you? When it comes down to it, you’re just as desperate for his attention as the rest of them.”

“I...” She tried to find her voice. “I’m not—”

“Tsk tsk tsk,” he cut her off. “Don't lie. You wanted the mask off, didn't you? You wanted to see if I had a spine?”

I? Hayami’s brain stuttered.

“You were right all along,” he hissed. “I am a liar, especially at times when it suits me. But the biggest lie I tell the world isn't that I'm nice, it’s that I’m harmless.”

The Viscount grinned.

“The agency wants Lucien to be a ‘good vampire’ and break Kindred’s canon just to accommodate Akira? Fine.”

He lowered his voice, dropping down a register.

“The truth is, I couldn’t give less of a damn. I look down on all of you. But you have no idea how easy it would be to ruin you specifically, Miss Laurens. It’d be so easy to take that arrogant little attitude of yours and melt it until you’re begging me not to stop. So, is this what you wanted? Would you like to see if Akira can make you whimper?”

Hayami was paralyzed.

“I...” A small, involuntary sound escaped her throat. “...Y-Yes?”

“Then be honest with yourself; honest with your inner-self, the Honne. Throw away your Tatemae. Say that you want it.”

“I… I-I want it.”

“That wasn’t good enough. Try again.”

“I want it.”

“You are still mumbling. Again.”

“I want it.”

“Ms. Laurens!” The sudden shout shook her to her very bones. “You are still trying to hide behind your intentions! Still hiding under a veneer of being polite and quiet. Why do you keep being dishonest with yourself? Stop apologizing for your own desires. Say it like you mean it!”

Then something inside Hayami snapped.

To hell with her dignity. To hell with being the quiet, stuttering girlfailure! For the first time in her life, she didn't want to be safe. And she needed to be honest about that!!

“I want it! I want it! I want it!!”

The display took everything out of her. She panted like a dog that ran for an hour straight.

On the screen, the Viscount was frozen stiff.

“Ha…?” the voice exhaled. “AI voice models don’t do that.”

Hayami slapped a hand over her mouth. “S-Sorry…”

“Waitwaitwait,” the voice sped up. “You are not a real person, are you?! This is supposed to be a test server!”

“I...” Hayami swallowed hard, confused now. “I thought we were roleplaying?”

“Guhhh! Look, I am sorry for saying all that! I just… I-I needed to…” He trailed off for a bit before the avatar in-game shook its head. “Look, whatever it is, please don’t tell me you recorded this whole interaction as well!”

Given that Hayami wasn’t the type to lie, she would have just told him the truth. She didn’t, at any point in that conversation, record any footage.

But.

Maybe it was the fact that he was an idol. Maybe it was the fact that he embodied everything she hated. Maybe it was because he was everything she could never ever be.

“W-Well, y-you just told me how easy it would be to ruin me…” Hayami eventually said. “I’d rather keep this on me in case y-you decide to do anything funny… y’know?”

“I was roleplaying!”

“Were you?”

Hayami heard an audible gulp.

“Alright, alright. You got me, hook, line and sinker. I will do anything you want, I promise! You can put that on my reputation. Name your price. Just don’t upload this recording, please!”

For a while, Hayami thought about what she wanted. The world’s most powerful man in the palm of her hand. The power felt intoxicating.

The power felt wrong.

She’s had a miserable day, but if she held this against him, she’d be no better than Hina.

Yet… she needed help. Bad.

“I have one demand,” Hayami eventually said.

“Name it.”

“I want to stop being a loser.”

…

“I beg your finest pardon?”