Just like that… I’d Gone Viral?!

Chisaka Kutsuki

Photographs with large professional cameras and effect lighting sit outside where the photos are being taken. The same mysterious guards from the front entrance block off the area near the photographers and set. I guess they really do take it to extremes when it comes to big music artists or top famous people (aka—Ryota.)

Ryota probably had the professional makeup artist, hired by his manager, redo his makeup after my awful first attempt. If anyone asked me about makeup in the future, nothing would ever make me forget about this.

“Lift the head slightly higher!” calls one of the photographers. “Hm, we need something different, something new and not like the rest.” The same photographer gets up from his chair to look for a new angle. I walk slightly closer, inching toward to peek at Ryota. Luckily, the guards didn’t suspect anything.

“Where is Nanaka? Can we get a shot with the two of them?” calls another photographer. One of the makeup artists standing near Gina walks to the photographer.

“Nanaka was feeling lightheaded, she’ll be taking a rest from the photo shoot.” The photographer looked disappointed at the makeup artist.

“How about Ryota’s makeup artist today? I’m sure that would be a fun idea! A photo with the makeup garrue and their creation with Ryota!”

Ryota’s manager nods and agrees to the idea, searching for the artist who he’d hired to do Ryota’s look. One of the guards notices my close standing, and I further myself back from the set until a swift movement pulls me forward and onto the set area where the photos are being taken.

I look up at Ryota holding onto my arm and explaining to the photographers and his manager, “She’s the one who did my makeup for today.”

I blush in an instant, his face still glimmering with the same makeup I’d done with his touch-ups, a cute purple heart remaining on his left cheek. He kept the finishing touch. He looks slightly different with silver chains on his neck, worth thousands, and earrings dangling from his ears. A pair of prosthetic fangs attached to his teeth, and his eyes naturally gave him a ’vampire’ look. He was gorgeously hot in a fantasy way.

“Alight, young girl, if we can get you to pose with Ryota.”

My face was already red, these people were so intimidating, not only were they drop dead gorgeous, but they were in a whole nother world than I.

Ryota lifts my face and leans towards my ear, “Is it alright to take a photo with you?” he whispers kindly.

“Yes!” I can’t help but squeal, my voice even quieter than his. He smiles and without words, lets go of my arm and I follow him to the center of the set with a spooky haunted garden as the backdrop with red lighting.

“Don’t look at the cameras, just focus on being comfortable and pick somewhere to stare at. It helps,” he says only enough for me to hear. I do just that and watch the back of the set, Ryota leans close over me and puts a hand on my shoulder. He lowers his head, opening his mouth positioned at the nape of my neck. An array of shots was taken by multiple photographers, capturing Ryota looking as if to bite my neck as the surreal Vampire King he was. In this costume, I wondered if he really was a vampire, he looked so real. It was amazing what a costume and makeup did to a person.

He seemed so genuine as a person, I can’t believe he dared to talk to me let alone take photos with me.

A surge of pain has me wincing, my eyes bat wide open, as does my jaw. All of the people watching have the same expression as I do, however, Ryota remains flawlessly unbothered as he actually bites down on the skin of my neck—like an actual real vampire would. My face goes pale as a few shots get taken.

He backs away from me and I turn to look at his mischievous face, ”I caught you!” he winks and sticks his tongue out at me.

“WHAT?”

He laughs and lowers his voice, “Miss professional makeup artist, or should I say ‘fake makeup artist.”

“It was a mistake…” I pleaded with him.

“I know. As is our meeting.”

“Huh?”

“Fans and ordinary people don’t get to just ‘meet’ me. That’s not how it works. You pay money to my manager, and I agree to let you meet me, only at specific public-known fan events.”

“B-but you literally mistook me for-“ he couldn’t be this stupid… How is it my fault he let me do his makeup? He seemed so willing at the time, I guess I was just supposed to know it was a mix-up.

“Well, either way, we met. Cameras are nowhere and yet everywhere—including the makeup room. If those pictures get out, which they already have, then people will question.”

“But they haven't, they will still be on-“ he pulls up his phone from his back pocket (were celebrities even allowed to have phones?) and pulls up a celebrity news article with a photo of us together in the makeup room with labels ‘who is this nerd girl with our Vampire king.’

WHAT THE HELL? “This is a lie, there’s no way, I mean it was just an hour ago-“

“Do you really think there aren’t Super Spies watching me twenty-four-seven taking photos to cause drama in the online world of media?”

“Uh- no?”

“…There is.”

“But the professional makeup artist-“

“—Is recognizable on social media for being a famous makeup artist. You, my sweet fan, are not.” that insult couldn’t feel more personal.

“I am NOT your fan!”

“Then why are you here? You’re most certainly not here to do makeup, you don’t even have experience,” he pokes at his lips.

“B-Because you're my other-half, soulmate, whatever-the-heck-it-is, our strings bond us together. I’m here to prove that it doesn’t work, and we will not be married to each other.”

He rolls his eyes, his face changes to a look of irritation, and he turns to leave the set, “Just because you did my makeup today doesn’t make you any more special than any other girl who throws themselves at me. I belong to no one, and I don’t need anyone. Love doesn’t exist, nor does this ‘string’ you talk of.” My face goes pale. Everyone could see the string of fate, and everyone talked about finding their other half. Sure, I don’t believe the string of fate works, but it exists, and so does love—but it’s just not defined by the string of fate.

“It does exist. But I’m not throwing myself at you, it’s quite the opposite actually,” I say firmly.

He turns and his face softens, but just as he begins to take a step toward me, his manager calls for him.

“We’ll meet again,” he winks before he leaves.

My face flushes with red, I was all over the media.

Just like that—I’d gone viral!?