Once a Performer

Aria sat in the corner of the shower, knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around her legs. Water poured endlessly from above, steam blurring the room until everything felt distant and unreal.

What’s wrong with me? First that stupid dream. Then those stupid questions. And now… this.

Her gaze dropped to the ring on her finger.

How am I supposed to look Ryo in the eyes after this? I have to make it up to him.

She lifted her hands and slapped her face. “Get yourself together, Aria,” she whispered. “You have an interview to focus on.”

Her grip tightened around her legs as the water continued to run.

But I can't stop thinking about John. I’m the worst.

*****

Aria was getting ready with her stylist while John went over the route to the recording studio with Rina. “We’ll take this route,” John said, pointing at the map on his phone. “It’s a bit longer, but it gives me a better line of sight. Easier to spot if anyone follows us.”

Rina raised an eyebrow. “Is that why we’re leaving two hours before the show?”

“Partially,” John replied. “I also want time to check the studio. The entrances, exits—everything. I don’t want anything happening to her during a live broadcast.”

Rina looked at him for a moment, then smiled. “Thank you, John. For everything you’re doing for my little sister. I really appreciate it.” John met her gaze briefly. “It’s what I was hired to do.”

At that moment, Aria stepped into the room.

Her hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, and the black dress hugged her frame elegantly, its sharp lines softened only by the bold red of her lipstick that stood out sharply against her skin.

“You look gorgeous, Ari,” Rina said warmly.

John froze for half a second. “Wow.”

Aria caught it and smiled. “See, John? Told you Madam’s work is something else.”

“Yes…” John cleared his throat. “Yes, it really is.”

They got into the car, John taking the driver’s seat. As they drove, his eyes kept flicking to the rearview mirror, scanning the road behind them for anything out of place.

The studio came into view soon after.

*****

Once inside, John moved systematically—checking every room, every hallway, the seats, under the host’s desk, behind the curtains. He tested doors, noted blind spots, memorized exits.

Only when he was satisfied did he step back. By then, the audience had started to arrive, filing in and taking their seats. It was almost time to go live.

As John stood off to the side, watching the crew prepare to roll, cables snaking across the floor and lights being tested one last time, Aria stepped up beside him.

“Ever been on a talk show, John?” she asked.

“A couple of times,” he replied. “It always intrigues me how much work goes on behind the scenes for a show like this.”

Aria nodded, eyes following a stagehand rushing past with a headset. “Yeah. They do all the heavy lifting, but only the host gets the praise.”

A voice came from behind them. “They may not get all the praise,” it said, amused, “but I do take care of my people in every way I can.”

They turned.

A man in a sharp midnight green suit with bright red hair stood there. He gave them a polite bow. “Welcome to our show. Thank you for accepting our invitation.”

“You’re welcome, Mori-san,” Aria said with a small smile.

He straightened and extended his hand toward John. “Kenji Mori. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” John shook his hand. Kenji’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “You’ve got hard hands,” he said. “You’re the last person I’d want to upset—right after our producer.”

“That’s fine. I won’t throw them as long as you don’t upset my client.” John replied.

Kenji chuckled, then turned his attention to Aria. “On that note—anything you don’t want me to talk about tonight?”

“No,” Aria said without hesitation. “You can ask anything.”

“Good to know.”

A voice rang out across the studio. “Get ready, everyone—ten… nine… eight…”

Kenji rubbed his hands together, the hint of a grin forming. “It’s time for the show to begin.”

The lights shifted.

[Opening theme music plays]

Audience applause as Kenji walks out, waves, does a half-bow, half-shrug.

"Thank you, thank you… wow. Sit down. Sit down. I know it’s the weekend, but you’re clapping like this is a famous rapper’s party. And just to be clear—

that bottle next to your seat, is not baby oil."

(Laughter)

"Welcome, everyone, to another Midnight Talk with Kenji Mori. The only show on television filmed after your boss stops emailing you…

but before you stop thinking about it."

(Laughter)

"Now—let’s begin, as we always do, with the national icebreaker:

Japan’s low birth rate."

(pause for laughter)

"Yes. I know, I know. Nothing warms up a crowd like demographic collapse. They say young people aren’t having children because they’re selfish. Which is unfair. They’re not selfish. They’re just—

(leans in)

tired. Very, very tired.

We work so much that romance now requires scheduling, three reminders, and a cancellation apology."

(Laughter)

"When someone says, 'Let’s start a family,' the answer is, 'Maybe next fiscal year.' And the economy—ah yes, the economy. Prices go up, salaries stay the same, and somehow the CEO’s belly gets bigger.

That’s not inflation. That’s magic."

(Laughter)

"At any moment, a pigeon or a rabbit might come out of him.

We’re so cooked that when people say, 'Take care of yourself,' we respond with, 'I don’t have time, but thank you.' "

(Applause)

"We are on autopilot; the words come out on their own, but don’t worry, help is coming. Artificial Intelligence.

Yes! AI is here to save us, or replace us, or politely bow while doing both.

AI can now write essays, make music, generate art, and apologize more sincerely than most exes. Which means, finally, something is working harder than Japanese employees."

(beat)

"And it doesn’t even complain."

(Laughter)

*****

Aria glanced at John and spoke quietly. “I’m sorry, John… about what happened in the dojo. I did something stupid. I crossed a boundary.”

John nodded. “It’s alright. You’re still young. Your emotions send mixed signals sometimes.”

“You’re kind,” Aria said softly. “But I’m trained to never show my real emotions. I have to smile in front of cameras no matter how I feel. It doesn’t matter if I’m sad because of bad news… or suffering through end-of-the-month cramps.”

She exhaled. “I still have to look perfect and smile. Even now… I’m not comfortable. Going out there in front of a crowd. Being asked about my private life on live TV.”

John studied her. “Honestly, I couldn’t tell. I thought you’d be excited.”

“No. Quite the opposite,” Aria replied. “I’m just a great actor. A great pretender.” She looked at him then—cold, composed, unreadable. A side of her John had never seen before.

“No one knows what really goes on in my mind.”

*****

Kenji continued. "Of course, AI is changing the world. Jobs are changing, politics are changing. The world feels unstable, confusing, loud. But there is one thing—

one thing—

that still unites humanity. Celebrity scandals."

(Applause, laughter)

"Wars, economies, climate—we can’t agree. But show us one blurry photo, and suddenly everyone’s a detective.

This week’s scandal?

A smile. That’s it. No crime, no secret meeting, no leaked messages. Just… a smile.

An international superstar appears on the cover of Fogue magazine—

elegant, radiant, untouchably famous. And the headline isn’t about her career. Or her talent. Not her global success. It’s about the fact that she smiled at her helpful bodyguard. A very handsome bodyguard."

(pause)

"Extremely handsome. The internet reacted immediately.

'Who is he?'

'Why is she smiling?'

'What does this mean?'

'Is smiling still allowed?'

Now—just to be clear—she has a fiancé. A powerful man. Owns a production company. Very serious. Very rich. Probably does not smile much at work. So tonight, we finally get answers. Possibly some deflection, but definitely charming.

Ladies and gentlemen—

she’s an idol, an actress, a global phenomenon, adored by fans across Japan and around the world. Please welcome…

ARIA KINGSLEY!"

Aria stepped into the light, seamlessly replacing the cold mask with a warm, radiant smile. She waved to the audience as if nothing weighed on her at all. The perfect illusion.

“Hello, everyone,” Aria said brightly. “Hey, Mori-san. Thank you for having me.”

“Oh, Aria, please—take a seat, relax,” Kenji said, gesturing to the couch. “We have a lot to discuss tonight. But first—how was the Bet Gala? They say it’s so good it’s worth dying for.”

(Laughter)

“Yeah, yeah,” Aria replied dryly. “Very funny. Turning an attempt on my life into a punchline.”

Kenji put a hand on his chest. “For years, I was the butt of every joke. Then I dyed my hair, wore this suit, and now, I’m the cock of every joke.”

(Laughter erupts. Aria laughs too.)

Kenji winced and held up his hands. “Producer-chan, please! I meant rooster of every joke. I’m innocent. It’s just very late after a long day at KFG. My brain is not braining anymore.”

(More laughter.)

“Now,” he continued, leaning forward, “let’s serve the main course. Aria—who is that bodyguard you got there, and where did you find him?” He pulled a pen and paper from his pocket to write.

“Well,” Aria said smoothly, “his name is John Mercer. He’s a former U.S. military soldier—”

Kenji slammed his hand on the desk, cutting her off. “U.S. soldier?” he said, eyes wide. He turned toward John, stood up and raised both hands. “Sir, I swear I’ve never done anything wrong. I don’t even smoke! I once passed Snoopy Catt on the street—he smoked in my face and laughed, said my eyes looked funny.”

(The audience and Aria burst into laughter.)

Kenji recovered. “Now—what does your fiancé think about him? Ryo Sera, right? Did I get the name correct?”

“Yes,” Aria said calmly. “Ryo isn’t bothered at all. We love each other, and we know nobody can come between us.”

“I’m sure he’s just as cool as his name implies,” Kenji replied.

*****

Elsewhere, in his apartment, Ryo sat on the edge of his bed, watching the show on a large TV. “Of course I’m cool, Kenji you fool,” he muttered. “If I wasn’t, I’d have already sued Fogue for that garbage cover.”

A voice purred behind him. “Come on, Ryo,” one of the women said, sliding closer. “You’ve got two hot girls in your bed, and you’re watching TV?”

“Yeah,” the other laughed. “You’ll forget about her in no time.”

Ryo didn’t turn. “I need to organize a party,” he said. “Invite the tabloids. Let them photograph us when I announce the wedding ceremony. I’ll be the one next to her on those covers.” He scoffed. “Not that stupid soldier. He definitely takes steroids to look like that.”

Ryo turned off the TV and finally looked at the women. “Now,” he said quietly, “let’s see which one of you is going to play a role in our next movie.”

*****

Aria continued, “The main reason I attended the gala was actually for my friend Rika. She loved big parties—especially ones full of celebrities.”

Kenji’s tone softened. “We will always remember Rika’s soothing voice and beautiful eyes,” he said gently. “Rest in peace, Rika Murasaki.”

Then after a respectful pause, Kenji clapped his hands once, energy snapping back. “Alright! Let’s change the mood. Aria—are you ready to play a game?”

Aria smiled. “What game are we playing?”

“My favorite game,” Kenji said, already standing. “What’s in the Box? Let’s head over there.” They rose and walked toward the game table.

John stood still, lost in thought.

Were you playing with me all along, Aria? Do you have a hand in the missing idols case?

He shifted slightly—and caught movement in a blind spot.

Rina was standing there, her hands moving, lips silently forming words—as if she were the one on stage. As if she were Aria.

Still got that fire in you. Don’t you, Rina? Once a performer… always a performer.