Gift fic for haikuesque: Stuck in Limbo (1/3)
Title: Stuck in Limbo
Written for: haikuesque
Pairing: Kamenashi Kazuya/Akanishi Jin
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 25,400
Warnings: excessive pessimism and rudeness
Author's Notes: Dear Jo and Solo, I tried my best with your tropes. I could have gone for a crazier canon universe to challenge the more creative tropes and probably could have pulled them off too with a bit more time, but I hope you'll like your gift as it is. Enjoy!
Summary: In a universe where human values are measured by how high individuals rank in their social media outlets, where the quality of existence depends on an app that lets one rate another on a scale of one to five, where popularity defines everything and everyone, and where human relationships are shallower than ever, Jin and Kame both have lessons to learn. Inspired by Nosedive, a stimulating episode of Black Mirror.
NOVEMBER
4.1. Odd.
Jin's searching his phone for an explanation because he was only a 4.0 yesterday, and although his concerts are successful, he doesn't usually pocket enough ratings with them to jump ranks. He isn't really interested in how it happened (his ranking is consistent enough these days, and he knows if something looks too good to be true, it usually is, and won't last long), but if there's some new rumour spreading online and he's involved, he wants to know before things spiral out of hand. For an indie artist and an ex-Johnny like him, it's too suspicious to achieve a higher score without premonitions or influencers.
No gossips. Jin would have been surprised if there was one, because his life is barely more interesting than a hamster's these days. Half of Twitter went crazy overnight though; for some reason #AkaKame is trending.
Funny how after all these years, just by offhandedly dropping his name in public, Kame still manages to pull his popularity in the right direction. It didn't even happen in Japan, mind you, and Jin didn't even think about it when he mentioned him during the concert; he was just the obvious choice to talk about since he's one of the few musicians who are internationally popular.
For a moment, Jin's tempted to check if Kame received a sudden burst of five stars and benefited the same way Jin did, but he probably doesn't need Jin's promotion to stay on top of everyone else in the chart. He can't yet go higher than 5.0. Instead, Jin looks for interesting stuff on his timeline, then skims through Instagram and Facebook as well. He gives the mandatory five stars to his friends and the connections essential for his line of work and ignores the rest.
He rolls out of bed and shuffles into the bathroom, stifles a yawn on the way there. He could do with a few more hours of sleep even though it's almost evening, but the house is still quiet and Jin has a list of things to take care of before Meisa and Theia come home. The Barbie Miss Universe contest hasn't concluded yet, he notes after glancing at half a dozen dolls in girly gowns dutifully lined up against the pillows on the sofa as he makes his way into the kitchen ten minutes later.
By the time he checks his phone again, he has 263 new notifications from people he has never heard of, giving him the five stars. He pushes his tongue into his cheek and stares at the screen, still somewhat baffled. For a moment, he wonders if they are all Kame's fans. Then he finds the cutest tiny-kitten-falling-into-a-bowl-of-food video that's ever been posted in the history of Twitter and gives the person who shared it the five stars that the kitten deserves.
It takes three days until Kame's fans grow tired of the one second that took Jin to pronounce his name in Macau, and by that time he's an outstanding 4.2. Well. 4.2 isn't that outstanding by normal standards, but the last time he ranked that high was when his girl was born.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Jin addresses his phone with profanities when it rings for the hundredth time, but acutely he's aware it's pointless to blame an electric device for stupid social network addicts hunting for celebs to rate. They do it because if Jin would bother to rate them too, the the score he'd give would influence their ranking a hundred times more than just a regular, non-famous person's. But can't he just enjoy a coffee? He usually remembers to switch off the notification alerts before he goes somewhere public... He fights his way through pop-up messages to access the settings, and sighs in relief when his phone finally stops buzzing.
He even manages to ignore the crowd around him and smile at the barista when his chestnut praline frappuccino is ready. Then the guy grabs his phone from his pocket and holds it up, slides his thumb across the screen, and Jin's friendliness evaporates. Of course. He thumbs up Jin with the same finger he was swiping the screen with. Jin sighs, resigned, and forces himself to hold his own device up. The guy's face automatically appears on the screen when the chip in the camera recognizes his features in the database, and a couple of seconds later he can also see some stars floating above his head. 3.3. The guy's smile widens in a hopeful yet kind of awkward way, and Jin gives him the five stars. It isn't easy to work in Starbucks with all these grumpy, caffeine-deprived people downvoting him if their milk isn't hot enough.
Jin looks for space to sit down and sees a single guy shooting death stares at a group of high school kids. The kids are an average 3.7, but the guy's a 4.5, so even though there's the five of them, they still end up losing their space. They pack their school books and let the douche occupy the whole table, two armchairs, and a small sofa, because they're scared that otherwise he'd downvote them. Jin rolls his eyes when the guy holds his phone up and gives zero stars to each of them, even though they didn't make a fuss.
A real douche.
The kids return the favour and add a couple of middle fingers as well as they leave, but everybody knows that neither their votes nor their insults will affect this guy's overall ranking. Jin wonders how someone can be a jerk and maintain a good ranking at the same time. Jin never managed to master that art; he can be a jerk too, but nobody likes him for that.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
By the time he gets home, he's extra high on energy and super low on everything else. He stopped buying frappuccinos after the third cup, because they filled him up so well he didn't think he could squeeze more of that concoction of sugar, caffeine, and saturated fat in his stomach without barfing it back up.
He feels a hint of guilt as he leaves his shoes in the genkan and the smell chicken and tomato sauce infiltrate his nose. Meisa did promise she'd make dinner and he completely forgot to text her it's fine not to wait for him. She's now busy chasing Theia into the bathroom, but Jin's baby girl runs into his arms as soon as she detects the sound of keys. He carries her into the bathroom, holding her with her arms stretched out above his head like a bird. That's the only way he knows to get her into the bath, but it works every time.
He leaves the girls to the rest and prepares Theia's room for the night. He hasn't been doing much today, not compared to Meisa anyway, but he can't help exhaustion spreading in his mind like a cosy blanket. Writing lyrics are sometimes the hardest part of his job. No one cares what he sings about in his easy dance songs, but they always expect to find a love story in his ballads.
He sprawls on the sofa in front of the tv after he sings Theia into slumber with her favourite lullaby.
At least that was an easy song to write.
“How was your day?” Jin asks when Meisa joins him, and lets her ramble about uptight directors, producers from hell, lame scripts, and staff that don't know their equipment. She's still a bright 4.9 though. Always professional and lovely, she naturally pulls through a day full of annoying obstacles without losing her composure.
She looks at Jin thoughtfully and it takes a moment to recognize that frown between her eyes.
“Still short of inspiration?” she asks and sits down next to him, puts her feet up on the glass coffee table lazily, and stretches her toes.
Jin shrugs. It will pass. It always passes somehow.
“It'll pass,” he says it aloud, but doesn't bother to elaborate further. The reason is obvious for both of them, but what's the point talking about it if there's no solution at hand?
“Come on, I made Italian chicken,” Meisa says then sensing Jin's pessimistic mood, and pats his thigh as she stands up.
“Milanese?” Jin asks with a ray of hope. He could probably find space for that in his stomach next to all those frappuccinos.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
DECEMBER
Still 4.2.
The number seems to hold up, and the longer Jin sees it next to his name the more hopeful he is. Just a bit more, and tv producers might not automatically skip Jin's e-mails when he tries to buy himself into a show. If he would just find a way to rank higher... He's run out of ideas. There's just nothing significantly interesting going on in his life, and every idea he has that would help boost his numbers seems to be taken by one of his friends. This world isn't a game of morals, obviously, but still he wants to stay a fair player in this world where fairness is a disadvantage...
Yamapi basically turned his Instagram into a gourmet photo blog. Would it be another person, no one would give a toss, but Pi's fans seem to have an unhealthy obsession watching him eat. Ryo's doing silly monthly photo challenges, and his fan are participating too, tagging him in a thousand posts a day. Josh is hanging around people more well-known than himself and somehow people never get bored with his face. Yuu is posting random selfies one after another in the most awkward situations, because he's not a Johnny and he can get away with an interesting life. Dom is doing modelling jobs when he isn't writing music, and enough people think he's hot enough too to keep his score up. All his musician friends are spamming their timelines with rehearsal, recording, and tour photos. His group of non-famous friends are masters of photo editing, creating surrealistic, fashionable images that other people automatically repost.
And then there's Jin basically doing free promo for Starbucks, and while people like seeing good-looking milkshakes, they aren't enough to take him to places. But when he isn't sitting on his music, he's with Theia, and neither are things he wants to share with the public. He needs privacy to do music, and the last thing he wants is for people to start ranking his daughter too. She still has a good ten years (hopefully, right?!) until she'll demand her first smartphone, and Jin won't jeopardize these ten years of peace.
So.
What options does he have here?
Maybe... Kame won't notice if he takes a bit of advantage of him again He didn't notice it the first time either. Jin's sure Kame's way too busy to waste time investigating why he's getting five stars as long as they cash in.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Jin leaves his shades on as he enters the club. He tied his hair into a bun on top of his head earlier and left his growing moustache on, and hopes that it's a disguise good enough to make it to the VIP room unnoticed. There was a time when drawing attention was the point of going out in the first place, but all he wants these days are a couple of good drinks and nice music to hear.
The bartender remembers him, asks why he hasn't come by in a while without expecting an answer, knows what drink he usually starts with, and serves it without Jin having to ask. He's eyeing Jin expectantly because he knows he can always count on his five stars, and Jin's happy to give them for a change. Jin is okay giving five stars to people who need them if they're nice, because he remembers what it felt like treasuring every single one like gold flakes when he was unpopular.
He makes his way through the mass of people in the room, shrugs off the random drunks who are grabbing and dragging him into some sort of surrealistic dance on the floor. He appreciates the base pumping in his veins in rhythm with his heartbeat, and allows a shallow grin settle on his lips when he realizes that for the first time in years, his rating is good enough to access the VIP lounge without an escort ranking higher than himself. The grin fades away before it can get comfortable though, and won't sneak back on his face even when Yamapi glomps him as soon as he's inside.
“Why so glum, you're popular again!”
“Right...” Jin mutters back, but his best friend is having too much fun to pick up on the unenthusiastic tone.
“I'll talk to Takumi tomorrow, that 4.2 will get you into his radio program nicely!” Pi shouts and slaps him on the shoulder before he heads back to the bar to pick up his glass of abandoned bright blue drink.
Jin listens in on the debate his friends are having, but he doesn't pay enough attention to actually know what it's about. Instead, he wonders if there was even a time he enjoyed socializing this way. When you lose ranking like Jin did after his departure from KAT-TUN and then the agency, people seem to naturally forget about you because aren't relevant enough socially any longer. Jin gained back a full star over the years with hard work, but it still doesn't seem to be enough for them to really mingle with him.
Ryo gives him a quizzical look from the perimeters, but doesn't ask questions, and Jin's good that way. He wouldn't know what to answer anyway, because how would Ryo understand what Jin's thinking when the lowest he's ever been was 4.7?
Nonetheless, he gets a toast for the rising rating in his profiles, and then they go back to their narrow little world. Funny how the lower your ranking is the less you belong. It's easy for these guys, all of them represented by powerful companies, but Jin is Jin, and Jin is Jin's boss, and there's no one to give him wind to keep his boat sailing. He chose this life so he isn't complaining, but it doesn't mean he always finds it pleasant.
He's not jealous, he's just tired of being tired, and tired of being friendless. He loves the career he built for himself, but he hates how socially irrelevant he is despite the effort he puts into not being one. Not every indie musician builds his studio from scratch, starts his own label, writes, records, and produces every song, edits his CD covers, designs the stages and choreography for the concerts, shoots his music videos, manages all the marketing and finance, and tries selling himself for anyone who's willing to move a finger for him.
Good that he has the studio, because that's his only attractive feature that keeps these people sticking with him.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
JANUARY
Jin slurps on his salted caramel mocha frappuccino quite satisfied as he curls up in the corner of the sofa with his laptop. He's started to notice the unwelcome effect these beverages have on his stomach, but it doesn't bother him too much as long as he can hide it under a shirt. He spends more time writing music in Starbucks than in his home office or studio, but this is the only place where he feels creative lately.
Headphones on, music on, he closes his eyes and listens to the melody one more time. Why did he write this music again? He can't remember. It's a bittersweet piece on guitar, a love song, but he doesn't even know where to start with the lyrics. He thinks of Meisa and feels a certain kind of love, but it's not the kind his fans expect to hear. Not if he wants to keep his ranking, no.
Another frappuccino later the song starts to take a shape. Quite a depressive shape, but still a shape. He's doing better than two hours ago, although the topic of the song isn't what he planned at all. It was supposed to be a love confession, not the desperate cry of a lonely guy.
“Excuse me,” someone suddenly says above his head and Jin snaps out of his train of thoughts. Lucky that he already turned off the music, otherwise he wouldn't have heard her. “Excuse me, but are you Akanishi?”
Jin looks at the girl and her friends in their high school uniforms, eyes bright and excited, staring at him like he's some kind of jackpot they just won. “Yeah.”
“Do you mind... Can we take a photo?”
“Sure.” Finally he smiles at them, and they take turns posing with him on the sofa. Jin hopes at least these pics will help their ranking.
When the girls are back to their original seats, he opens a new document and starts on a new variation of the lyrics.
However differently he tries to form the lines, he ends up with the same message.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Jin didn't think Yamapi remembered his promise, but a guy named Takumi is calling him a month after that ominous party, and Jin assumes he's that dude Pi mentioned from the radio.
“So, Jin, how are you doing?” The guy sounds pretty cheerful and way too friendly for someone Jin's never seen in his life. “What do you think, can you pop into my studio today at nine? I hear you got a new song to show us? And your tour of course, must let us in on the details, although it's over already... We'll see if there's time for that. A DVD is on queue, right? If there's a DVD, then there's a point talking about it. Come in and I'll boost that stubborn 4.2 for you.”
“Awesome,” Jin replies quickly when the guy stops for half a second the catch some air. “I'll be there.”
“Bring the new song too, we'll tease the audience a bit with it, how about that. I'm eager to hear it, man, you used to have some fun songs!”
He hangs up before Jin gets a chance to say anything else. He looks at the screen of his phone, the little device offering him to rate their conversation. Takumi from zero to five. A moment later, a pop-up informs him that Takumi has already rated him a five. Jin returns the favour, because he needs this guy on his side, although he wouldn't call what they shared a conversation.
He copies the new song along with a couple of others he hopes to play in the show, puts on an actual shirt and waistcoat rather than the usual hoodie, and adds a black hat and sunglasses. On the way there in his car, Jin tunes in to a random radio station and listens to the hosts bantering about movies and actors to get into the mood, to pick up the speed. He hasn't done an interview in years and feels rusty, feels like his brain works slower than the insane speed Takumi runs on. Tonight is important and he needs to be great.
“Very deep.” Takumi approves the new song forty-something minutes later, after they played it for the audience. “Not the song I would sing with the nation's prettiest wife on my side, but deep.” There's a wink that the audience obviously cannot see, but his voice is playful enough so they can guess it's meant as a joke.
Jin allows a small chuckle. He's been practising answers and knows what to say. “I want my fans to be able to relate to my songs,” he says in what he hopes sounds like an earnest voice. “As long as I give hope to the ones who can't find love, I'll sing it.”
Jin can tell his answer is a win. Takumi rambles on the romantic theory of soulmates, and compliments the metaphor of stars Jin's using not only in this song, but in several others too. Jin's actually having fun; he's optimistic that tonight is only the beginning and that he'll get more chances like this in the future.
“You're the romantic type, aren't you, Jin,” Takumi concludes. “There's this other song I like that's pretty romantic, is it not.” He winks again. “Wait, let's listen to what I mean! Ladies and gentlemen, Mi Amor.”
He dances along the tunes while sitting in his chair and asks Jin if he can keep it in his playlist to play it again on another day. Jin feels like he won the lottery, doesn't even mind letting go of the usual fees in exchange for the extra ratings this opportunity would grant him over the coming months. Takumi isn't hosting only this one show, he's a daily regular in an other one too.
“Feeling a lil' more positive now, aren't we?” Takumi addresses the listeners as soon as he mutes the song a minute into it.
By the end of that intense twenty minutes, Jin's a 4.3, which means he received at least a hundred thousands five stars in this small fraction of time.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
FEBRUARY
Happy Birthday!
Jin eyes the simple message for at least ten minutes before he makes up his mind and tweets it. The message pops up on the top of his timeline, and he releases the breath he's been holding. He honestly doubts Kame will see it, because he hasn't tagged him and he doesn't follow Jin on Twitter either. It occurs to him that he hasn't wished Kame happy birthday in like... how many years? He doesn't even remember. He isn't sure he means it this time either, but maybe it will help him go up to 4.4.
Kame used to hate it when random people took him for a social ladder, but Jin isn't exactly a random person. They communicate on the rare days they run into each other and Kame never looks like it's trouble lowering himself to Jin's social level, unlike some people Jin calls real friends. He's quick to stop his brain going down this road and concentrates on the incoming ratings instead. It takes way longer to collect enough five stars on social media than by appearing in radio and tv, but that never set Jin back.
Over the next couple of hours, he periodically hovers over his phone and checks every single rating he receives. A bit less than half of them are zero to two stars, and he wonders why there's a sudden change in the fans' attitude. They loved him mentioning Kame in Macau, so what's the problem now?
It's after he checks the replies to his tweet that he realizes that publishing this small message might not have been the brightest idea, and there's an uncomfortable feeling crawling up his spine accompanying that thought. It almost looks like suddenly he's more popular than Kamenashi, which sounds like a ridiculous idea at first.
Stop relating to losers.
Are you this eager to go back below four?
And these are just the ones on the top of the page.
Jin loads Kamenashi's profile to see where he's ranking at the moment, expects to see the usual five stars completely filled with the bright shade of golden-yellow, but it's set private and his profile is inaccessible. Kame likes his privacy, but no manager would allow him to choose being a boring, tweet-less idol, especially if his account is as popular as it is.
He appears to be deactivated everywhere else Jin thinks to check too. It's unsettling because over the next couple of days Jin realizes that Kame basically disappeared from everywhere. He has no more billboard ads on the street, no more posters in train stations, he's been pulled out of his regular tv shows, and the most frightening one: his name is gone from Johnny's website. Like he never existed.
Jin could just delete the tweet, make sure his carefully maintained ranking stays 4.3, but as it doesn't seems to go down (although it isn't going up either), he decides to keep it. Because Kame's real, even if it's strongly suggested otherwise.
Several hours later, Jin rubs his face with his palms. He needs to focus on this song, but his mind keeps slipping off in the direction of Kame's shocking disappearance. Weirdly, it feels refreshing to focus on something other than the depression party happening inside his head, but maybe not when he has a single to release in April and he's still screwing up the B side song.
“Again,” he grunts into the microphone and he can see Zen and Josh exchange looks on the other side of the glass wall.
“Stop ruining every take,” the latter whines, and Jin hears him crystal clear through his headphones. “I've got other places to be today, man.”
Of course. Jin still isn't relevant enough to devote a whole afternoon to. It's a bit upsetting considering that this is Jin's studio to begin with, that he generously lends to Zen any time he wants it. But whatever.
The music stops just to start again from the beginning of verse two, and Jin musters up as much dedication as he can to sing it well.
They wrap up in thirty-seven minutes in the live room, and then Jin's alone to finish editing his voice, pull it over filters until it's distorted the way he wants it, imitating an echo like he's singing inside a spacious cave. It goes well with deep house elements of the music.
He makes up his mind. He decides to check on Kamenashi personally rather than to get carried further away, speculating stuff like he's also quit KAT-TUN and Johnny's is now punishing him, or is terminally ill, or the insane workload drove him crazy and they locked him up somewhere.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
There's a thin line of light between Kame's door and the frame. It's very uncharacteristic, but exactly what Jin was hoping for when he came here. Kame usually goes to some over the top restaurant on his birthday and invites someone he fancies sharing the evening with, or rents an entire hotel for himself, or visits his brothers or his family. Jin doesn't think he's celebrating tonight; he isn't the type that brings the party home; principals and a pristine reputation above all...
Kame doesn't seem to acknowledge the ringing bell, so Jin tries again a couple more times.
The door opens more abruptly than Jin expects after the last try. Kame is hanging off the edge of the door and looks at Jin with amusement spiced with just a bit of surprise. There's that unique smile plastered on his face, that cute one he puts on when he witnesses something especially funny. He looks like a child for a second. Then he opens his mouth.
“Heh,” he says, his voice a thick velvet blanket. Suspiciously drowsy. Looks like he's had a few drinks too many before Jin came by. He starts swinging and the door swings with him. “Of all people, you.”
“Get inside before someone sees you like this.” Jin hisses, because the last thing Kamenashi needs is his neighbours pulling their phones out, ranking them, or even worse, taking videos and spreading them online.
“Game is over.” Kame chuckles his reply in English with his funny accent that never seems to get better. He is now holding his fingers up and aiming at Jin's head. “Bang!”
Finally he pulls himself off the door, but drapes himself over the door frame instead, attempting to keep his balance and speak at the same time. “Sorry, wrong person,” he announces and aims the finger gun at his own temple instead.
“Get inside,” Jin repeats impatiently and pushes in, bringing Kame with him and shutting the door behind them with his heel. “Are you insane?”
“Absolutely.” Kamenashi agrees and tumbles forward, and he'd fall if Jin wouldn't reach for his shoulders. “Give me a birthday kiss.”
Jin pushes him into the wall and traps him there, so stops being a danger to himself or to Jin.
“Come on, it's no biggy.” Kame is fighting against Jin's hand, but there's no real power in him while he's like this. He's stretching his neck forward like that would make the distance between them any smaller. He's anything but desirable right now, and that has nothing to do with the old washed out shirt and baggy sweatpants, or the fact that he hasn't shaved in days, or that his hair's such a mess Jin wouldn't know where to start untangling it.
“No.”
“Why else would you be here.” It isn't a question and his voice has a serious edge now. He doesn't wait for an answer, just launches forward again and crashes their bodies together, like it's normal to fool around with Jin like this. He doesn't even know where Kame got the idea, why he thinks that Jin'd be into him, but they have more important things to sort out tonight than this minor confusion. He ducks out of his way and shoves him back into the wall, keeps him there firmer than before. He ignores the startled gasp when Kame's back hits the wall, the quiet profanities he throws Jin's way.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” Jin raises his voice because he's getting pissed. He's here to help, can't Kame appreciate that?
“What the fuck are you doing!” Kame shouts back. His eyes turn into narrow slits as they burn holes into Jin. “What, too popular for me now? Came to show off?” There's that snort again which gets on Jin's nerves every time he hears it. Jin senses malice reeking from every inch of his body, anger that he can't place. “4.3-san.”
Kame has always had a way with words and Jin's somehow the single unlucky person who got-still gets, apparently-to listen to the unfiltered version of the overly opinionated pieces of his mind. Once upon a time he counted it a privilege, but it started to feel more like a curse when they stopped being friends. Jin could understand it back then, because Kame did have an unrequited crush on him and Jin didn't make his life easier, but surely he wouldn't still hold grudges for that.
“Right.” Kame displays his sweetest smile misunderstanding Jin's silence, but his face is ugly when it's deformed by hostility. “4.3 isn't quite enough to call you 'san' yet.”
“That's enough,” Jin says and it takes more willpower than he estimated to keep his fist under control and not punch him.
Instead, he drags him off the wall. One hand grasping his arm and the other pushing between his shoulder blades, he shoves him inside the flat, every step another struggle because Kame's heavier than Jin remembered and he's resisting. Kame's a decent fighter, and it takes strength to contain him. Jin manages to drag him into the bathroom, and he grips the hair on the back of his head without the shadow of hesitation before pushing it into the sink.
Jin starts the cold water. It sprays like a fountain for a second, blasting water in every direction until Jin pushes Kamenashi's head further down and adjusts the water pressure. Kame's trying to fight him off with flailing arms, but he gives up and then it's just coughing and spluttering and calling him names. At least they stopped flooding the place. He's trying to squirm his body out of Jin's tight hold, but it's no use. It takes a bit of time until he realizes that struggling won't help him, and gives up completely.
Jin lets his head soak for a good minute before he lets him go. Kame tosses thick, wet locks of black hair out of his face and sprinkles water into every corner of the small bathroom that remained dry before. If his stare was poisonous, Jin would die instantly. He's still coughing and panting like a drowning kitten, shivering because Jin made sure the water was freezing, but he looks sober.
“Another word and I'll put you back there.” Jin warns him coldly. “Have a shower. Shave your face, whatever. But when you're done, I want to talk to Kamenashi Kazuya.” He shuts the door on him. He looks around in the corridor and sighs. He feels exhausted. This isn't what he expected to find here at all.
Not much changed since the last time he's been here, and it's neater than the expected compared to how messed up Kame was a minute ago. The only thing out of place is the whisky glass toppled over on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Jin sprawls on the sofa and leans his head back, inspecting the ceiling out of boredom.
He has never seen Kame behave like this.
It takes him twenty something minutes to piece himself together, but he comes back clean and shaved and decently dressed. His hair is still wet but at least it's not dripping anymore, and his face lost that wild, vicious edge.
He doesn't look at Jin as he sinks into a colourful cushion on the sofa next to him.
“What's going on?” Jin breaks the silence when he realizes Kame doesn't plan to do it. “I don't mean this outstandingly warm welcome you're giving me.” He looks at Kame stubbornly eyeing the very interesting books on the shelves. “Did you get in trouble with the agency?”
Kamenashi sighs. Now that he's sober, he looks as bad as the living dead.
“No. Why are you here?”
“What's up with is your ranking?” Jin asks instead. Kame wouldn't make such a show mocking Jin about his ranking if everything was fine with his.
But he just keeps stubbornly looking anywhere but him.
“Say something,” Jin asks more gentle this time, because he will certainly not give up and Kame can't run from him forever. He pulls his phone out when Kame remains quiet. It's awkward using it against him, like he's spying on him without his consent. The camera recognizes his face and the stars show up above his head, and Jin's heart sinks.
2.1.
A 2.1 will be denied service in the convenience store without someone rating 3.6 or higher vouching for him.
A 2.1 has his details recorded by the police as part of their crime prevention program, even if they wouldn't hurt a fly. Just in case.
A 2.1 is expected to be nothing else than a low life, a criminal, a yakuza, a school drop-out, someone who doesn't give a toss about his life, someone who attacks women, or robs elderly people...
Not fucking Kamenashi Kazuya.
“Enjoying what you see?” Kame mutters bitterly. His voice is dull and resigned.
“No,” Jin answers slowly and puts his phone away. He can't bear another glance at the lack of stars in a profile which usually carried a 5.0, 4.9 in the worst months. “How did get yourself there?”
Kame chuckles. It doesn't end, it turns into laughter, almost bending over himself where he's sitting on the sofa. He doesn't stop, probably can't even, and with every second that passes Jin thinks he sounds more like a lunatic. In the end, he finds it hard to decide whether he's still laughing or he started sobbing somewhere along the way. The noise dies slowly on Kame's lips. It's disturbing to witness, even if he knows it's normal.
“I was just trying to keep us going,” Kame says after he manages to compose himself again. “I know what the rumours say, but I swear I'm not the one trying to ruin us, okay?”
“Of course you're not,” Jin assures him, but he can only guess that he's talking about KAT-TUN.
Kame looks up at the ceiling and sucks in half his cheek. “It doesn't matter what I do, people will hate it. I show my face and it's an instant wave of downvotes. My name appears online and the article automatically gets zero stars. Other people, good people are bullied by my fans if they are connected to me.”
It took Kame a while to get to this place, Jin knows that. The more stars he has and the more votes he collects, the harder it is to lose them. But once he slips below a certain number, the balance shifts and losing more is a lot easier than gaining any of it back. Kame's misfortune is that he's too famous. Somewhere along the way it became trendy to vote him down. For a regular person, a few hundred votes are enough to change ranks. For someone as well-known as him, a million is too few. The more people vote on him, the more vote he'll need later to make a difference in the rankings. It's a vicious cycle.
“How did it start?” Jin asks. Kame would need like fifty million dislikes to go from 5.0 to 2.1 and Jin just can't imagine how anyone can have that many in a single lifetime.
“People needed someone to blame, I think. After Taguchi announced his departure, people started to wonder again if I'm impossible to work with, if I demand too much, if I'm too bossy, if it's me who gets the ones I hate kicked out. Like you or Koki. Which is stupid, because you two were basically the closest- Anyway, the downvotes didn't make much difference at first, but then we announced that we're going on the recharging period, and suddenly it became cool to diss everything with my name on it. And I didn't know what to do, because it started to affect Yucchi and Tatsuya as well after a while. I did my best to stop it, then just focused on my radio program and Going!, but it didn't help. I didn't know what else to do, so I disappeared.”
“What does your manager say? Julie? Johnny?” Jin asks next. The agency has emergency routines tailored and prepared for exactly this kind of disasters, and no one can convince Jin that management wouldn't be able to put an end to this harassment if they wanted to..
Kame shrugs. Management's opinion is most likely more pronounced than what Kame's letting him in on, but it's not hard to guess why he chooses to stay silent. Jin's seen idols go down the drain, knows that most of the time management is more at blame than ungrateful fans. Everyone is disposable and that includes Kamenashi Kazuya. There's a rising star on every corner; one's easily forgotten when there's another to take his place immediately.
“What do Ueda and Nakamaru say?”
“They agree we need to do what's best for the group.”
“You still see them, right?”
“Sometimes. They're too busy to come, but that's good because that means they still have jobs...”
“You have to do something about this,” Jin says.
“What do you think I've been doing the entire last year?” Kame sighs and leans on his arms, hides his face behind his hands.
“But you got to start working again.” The only response Jin's opinion is worth is another snort. Kame reaches for the whisky bottle and the glass that still lies toppled over.
“Go home, Akanishi,” he says after he fills the glass to the brim.
He turns on the tv and gets comfortable leaning back into the colourful pillows, like it's totally normal to watch sappy and mediocre late night drama reruns after a mild mental breakdown, on a nameless channel only Jin's grandma watches.
“No,” Jin replies adamantly. He isn't sure it's wise to leave Kame alone, even if he seems to have relied solely on himself for months already. He'll just drink himself back under the table.
“Then let's fuck,” the younger one says nonchalantly, still watching the tv, but Jin sees through him and doesn't feel comfortable with what he finds.
“No,” Jin tells him.
“Okay,” Kame says, his attention still on the third-rate drama on the screen. “So what are you still doing here.”
It sounds so simple when Kame puts it that way. Jin stands and grabs the jacket he tossed in the corner of the sofa earlier, and he's gone before he can change his mind.
Who is Kame to him anyway.
“Don't bother to come back.”
Let Kame stew in his misery if he prefers it that way.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Jin planned his next song upbeat to compensate the ballad he's releasing in April, something easy and fun about festivals and fireworks the fans can relate to. Yet here he sits, working on a downtempo song, slow beats and soft tunes and lyrics that are putting themselves together more depressed than cheerful. At least today he's inspired to write, so he takes what he gets.
His café vanilla frappuccino tastes nothing like it should, and Jin doesn't know whether the barista messed up the recipe or he's too fucked up to perceive taste normally. He's tired, but his mind keeps spinning uncontrollably. Kame's problems aren't his and he isn't supposed to solve them for him. No one asked him to, either. But he still remembers who was the first person to try reach out to him after his ranking dropped dramatically. It wasn't Josh, wasn't even Pi...
Some girls in their early twenties hunch over an open magazine at the neighbour table. Jin recognizes little Yamada Ryosuke, who isn't all that little anymore, on the pages. He wonders if it's Kame they were in love with a couple of months ago.
He averts his eyes before the girls notice him staring and tries to focus on the music in his ears.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Part 2
Written for: haikuesque
Pairing: Kamenashi Kazuya/Akanishi Jin
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 25,400
Warnings: excessive pessimism and rudeness
Author's Notes: Dear Jo and Solo, I tried my best with your tropes. I could have gone for a crazier canon universe to challenge the more creative tropes and probably could have pulled them off too with a bit more time, but I hope you'll like your gift as it is. Enjoy!
Summary: In a universe where human values are measured by how high individuals rank in their social media outlets, where the quality of existence depends on an app that lets one rate another on a scale of one to five, where popularity defines everything and everyone, and where human relationships are shallower than ever, Jin and Kame both have lessons to learn. Inspired by Nosedive, a stimulating episode of Black Mirror.
NOVEMBER
4.1. Odd.
Jin's searching his phone for an explanation because he was only a 4.0 yesterday, and although his concerts are successful, he doesn't usually pocket enough ratings with them to jump ranks. He isn't really interested in how it happened (his ranking is consistent enough these days, and he knows if something looks too good to be true, it usually is, and won't last long), but if there's some new rumour spreading online and he's involved, he wants to know before things spiral out of hand. For an indie artist and an ex-Johnny like him, it's too suspicious to achieve a higher score without premonitions or influencers.
No gossips. Jin would have been surprised if there was one, because his life is barely more interesting than a hamster's these days. Half of Twitter went crazy overnight though; for some reason #AkaKame is trending.
Funny how after all these years, just by offhandedly dropping his name in public, Kame still manages to pull his popularity in the right direction. It didn't even happen in Japan, mind you, and Jin didn't even think about it when he mentioned him during the concert; he was just the obvious choice to talk about since he's one of the few musicians who are internationally popular.
For a moment, Jin's tempted to check if Kame received a sudden burst of five stars and benefited the same way Jin did, but he probably doesn't need Jin's promotion to stay on top of everyone else in the chart. He can't yet go higher than 5.0. Instead, Jin looks for interesting stuff on his timeline, then skims through Instagram and Facebook as well. He gives the mandatory five stars to his friends and the connections essential for his line of work and ignores the rest.
He rolls out of bed and shuffles into the bathroom, stifles a yawn on the way there. He could do with a few more hours of sleep even though it's almost evening, but the house is still quiet and Jin has a list of things to take care of before Meisa and Theia come home. The Barbie Miss Universe contest hasn't concluded yet, he notes after glancing at half a dozen dolls in girly gowns dutifully lined up against the pillows on the sofa as he makes his way into the kitchen ten minutes later.
By the time he checks his phone again, he has 263 new notifications from people he has never heard of, giving him the five stars. He pushes his tongue into his cheek and stares at the screen, still somewhat baffled. For a moment, he wonders if they are all Kame's fans. Then he finds the cutest tiny-kitten-falling-into-a-bowl-of-food video that's ever been posted in the history of Twitter and gives the person who shared it the five stars that the kitten deserves.
It takes three days until Kame's fans grow tired of the one second that took Jin to pronounce his name in Macau, and by that time he's an outstanding 4.2. Well. 4.2 isn't that outstanding by normal standards, but the last time he ranked that high was when his girl was born.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Jin addresses his phone with profanities when it rings for the hundredth time, but acutely he's aware it's pointless to blame an electric device for stupid social network addicts hunting for celebs to rate. They do it because if Jin would bother to rate them too, the the score he'd give would influence their ranking a hundred times more than just a regular, non-famous person's. But can't he just enjoy a coffee? He usually remembers to switch off the notification alerts before he goes somewhere public... He fights his way through pop-up messages to access the settings, and sighs in relief when his phone finally stops buzzing.
He even manages to ignore the crowd around him and smile at the barista when his chestnut praline frappuccino is ready. Then the guy grabs his phone from his pocket and holds it up, slides his thumb across the screen, and Jin's friendliness evaporates. Of course. He thumbs up Jin with the same finger he was swiping the screen with. Jin sighs, resigned, and forces himself to hold his own device up. The guy's face automatically appears on the screen when the chip in the camera recognizes his features in the database, and a couple of seconds later he can also see some stars floating above his head. 3.3. The guy's smile widens in a hopeful yet kind of awkward way, and Jin gives him the five stars. It isn't easy to work in Starbucks with all these grumpy, caffeine-deprived people downvoting him if their milk isn't hot enough.
Jin looks for space to sit down and sees a single guy shooting death stares at a group of high school kids. The kids are an average 3.7, but the guy's a 4.5, so even though there's the five of them, they still end up losing their space. They pack their school books and let the douche occupy the whole table, two armchairs, and a small sofa, because they're scared that otherwise he'd downvote them. Jin rolls his eyes when the guy holds his phone up and gives zero stars to each of them, even though they didn't make a fuss.
A real douche.
The kids return the favour and add a couple of middle fingers as well as they leave, but everybody knows that neither their votes nor their insults will affect this guy's overall ranking. Jin wonders how someone can be a jerk and maintain a good ranking at the same time. Jin never managed to master that art; he can be a jerk too, but nobody likes him for that.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
By the time he gets home, he's extra high on energy and super low on everything else. He stopped buying frappuccinos after the third cup, because they filled him up so well he didn't think he could squeeze more of that concoction of sugar, caffeine, and saturated fat in his stomach without barfing it back up.
He feels a hint of guilt as he leaves his shoes in the genkan and the smell chicken and tomato sauce infiltrate his nose. Meisa did promise she'd make dinner and he completely forgot to text her it's fine not to wait for him. She's now busy chasing Theia into the bathroom, but Jin's baby girl runs into his arms as soon as she detects the sound of keys. He carries her into the bathroom, holding her with her arms stretched out above his head like a bird. That's the only way he knows to get her into the bath, but it works every time.
He leaves the girls to the rest and prepares Theia's room for the night. He hasn't been doing much today, not compared to Meisa anyway, but he can't help exhaustion spreading in his mind like a cosy blanket. Writing lyrics are sometimes the hardest part of his job. No one cares what he sings about in his easy dance songs, but they always expect to find a love story in his ballads.
He sprawls on the sofa in front of the tv after he sings Theia into slumber with her favourite lullaby.
At least that was an easy song to write.
“How was your day?” Jin asks when Meisa joins him, and lets her ramble about uptight directors, producers from hell, lame scripts, and staff that don't know their equipment. She's still a bright 4.9 though. Always professional and lovely, she naturally pulls through a day full of annoying obstacles without losing her composure.
She looks at Jin thoughtfully and it takes a moment to recognize that frown between her eyes.
“Still short of inspiration?” she asks and sits down next to him, puts her feet up on the glass coffee table lazily, and stretches her toes.
Jin shrugs. It will pass. It always passes somehow.
“It'll pass,” he says it aloud, but doesn't bother to elaborate further. The reason is obvious for both of them, but what's the point talking about it if there's no solution at hand?
“Come on, I made Italian chicken,” Meisa says then sensing Jin's pessimistic mood, and pats his thigh as she stands up.
“Milanese?” Jin asks with a ray of hope. He could probably find space for that in his stomach next to all those frappuccinos.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
DECEMBER
Still 4.2.
The number seems to hold up, and the longer Jin sees it next to his name the more hopeful he is. Just a bit more, and tv producers might not automatically skip Jin's e-mails when he tries to buy himself into a show. If he would just find a way to rank higher... He's run out of ideas. There's just nothing significantly interesting going on in his life, and every idea he has that would help boost his numbers seems to be taken by one of his friends. This world isn't a game of morals, obviously, but still he wants to stay a fair player in this world where fairness is a disadvantage...
Yamapi basically turned his Instagram into a gourmet photo blog. Would it be another person, no one would give a toss, but Pi's fans seem to have an unhealthy obsession watching him eat. Ryo's doing silly monthly photo challenges, and his fan are participating too, tagging him in a thousand posts a day. Josh is hanging around people more well-known than himself and somehow people never get bored with his face. Yuu is posting random selfies one after another in the most awkward situations, because he's not a Johnny and he can get away with an interesting life. Dom is doing modelling jobs when he isn't writing music, and enough people think he's hot enough too to keep his score up. All his musician friends are spamming their timelines with rehearsal, recording, and tour photos. His group of non-famous friends are masters of photo editing, creating surrealistic, fashionable images that other people automatically repost.
And then there's Jin basically doing free promo for Starbucks, and while people like seeing good-looking milkshakes, they aren't enough to take him to places. But when he isn't sitting on his music, he's with Theia, and neither are things he wants to share with the public. He needs privacy to do music, and the last thing he wants is for people to start ranking his daughter too. She still has a good ten years (hopefully, right?!) until she'll demand her first smartphone, and Jin won't jeopardize these ten years of peace.
So.
What options does he have here?
Maybe... Kame won't notice if he takes a bit of advantage of him again He didn't notice it the first time either. Jin's sure Kame's way too busy to waste time investigating why he's getting five stars as long as they cash in.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Jin leaves his shades on as he enters the club. He tied his hair into a bun on top of his head earlier and left his growing moustache on, and hopes that it's a disguise good enough to make it to the VIP room unnoticed. There was a time when drawing attention was the point of going out in the first place, but all he wants these days are a couple of good drinks and nice music to hear.
The bartender remembers him, asks why he hasn't come by in a while without expecting an answer, knows what drink he usually starts with, and serves it without Jin having to ask. He's eyeing Jin expectantly because he knows he can always count on his five stars, and Jin's happy to give them for a change. Jin is okay giving five stars to people who need them if they're nice, because he remembers what it felt like treasuring every single one like gold flakes when he was unpopular.
He makes his way through the mass of people in the room, shrugs off the random drunks who are grabbing and dragging him into some sort of surrealistic dance on the floor. He appreciates the base pumping in his veins in rhythm with his heartbeat, and allows a shallow grin settle on his lips when he realizes that for the first time in years, his rating is good enough to access the VIP lounge without an escort ranking higher than himself. The grin fades away before it can get comfortable though, and won't sneak back on his face even when Yamapi glomps him as soon as he's inside.
“Why so glum, you're popular again!”
“Right...” Jin mutters back, but his best friend is having too much fun to pick up on the unenthusiastic tone.
“I'll talk to Takumi tomorrow, that 4.2 will get you into his radio program nicely!” Pi shouts and slaps him on the shoulder before he heads back to the bar to pick up his glass of abandoned bright blue drink.
Jin listens in on the debate his friends are having, but he doesn't pay enough attention to actually know what it's about. Instead, he wonders if there was even a time he enjoyed socializing this way. When you lose ranking like Jin did after his departure from KAT-TUN and then the agency, people seem to naturally forget about you because aren't relevant enough socially any longer. Jin gained back a full star over the years with hard work, but it still doesn't seem to be enough for them to really mingle with him.
Ryo gives him a quizzical look from the perimeters, but doesn't ask questions, and Jin's good that way. He wouldn't know what to answer anyway, because how would Ryo understand what Jin's thinking when the lowest he's ever been was 4.7?
Nonetheless, he gets a toast for the rising rating in his profiles, and then they go back to their narrow little world. Funny how the lower your ranking is the less you belong. It's easy for these guys, all of them represented by powerful companies, but Jin is Jin, and Jin is Jin's boss, and there's no one to give him wind to keep his boat sailing. He chose this life so he isn't complaining, but it doesn't mean he always finds it pleasant.
He's not jealous, he's just tired of being tired, and tired of being friendless. He loves the career he built for himself, but he hates how socially irrelevant he is despite the effort he puts into not being one. Not every indie musician builds his studio from scratch, starts his own label, writes, records, and produces every song, edits his CD covers, designs the stages and choreography for the concerts, shoots his music videos, manages all the marketing and finance, and tries selling himself for anyone who's willing to move a finger for him.
Good that he has the studio, because that's his only attractive feature that keeps these people sticking with him.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
JANUARY
Jin slurps on his salted caramel mocha frappuccino quite satisfied as he curls up in the corner of the sofa with his laptop. He's started to notice the unwelcome effect these beverages have on his stomach, but it doesn't bother him too much as long as he can hide it under a shirt. He spends more time writing music in Starbucks than in his home office or studio, but this is the only place where he feels creative lately.
Headphones on, music on, he closes his eyes and listens to the melody one more time. Why did he write this music again? He can't remember. It's a bittersweet piece on guitar, a love song, but he doesn't even know where to start with the lyrics. He thinks of Meisa and feels a certain kind of love, but it's not the kind his fans expect to hear. Not if he wants to keep his ranking, no.
Another frappuccino later the song starts to take a shape. Quite a depressive shape, but still a shape. He's doing better than two hours ago, although the topic of the song isn't what he planned at all. It was supposed to be a love confession, not the desperate cry of a lonely guy.
“Excuse me,” someone suddenly says above his head and Jin snaps out of his train of thoughts. Lucky that he already turned off the music, otherwise he wouldn't have heard her. “Excuse me, but are you Akanishi?”
Jin looks at the girl and her friends in their high school uniforms, eyes bright and excited, staring at him like he's some kind of jackpot they just won. “Yeah.”
“Do you mind... Can we take a photo?”
“Sure.” Finally he smiles at them, and they take turns posing with him on the sofa. Jin hopes at least these pics will help their ranking.
When the girls are back to their original seats, he opens a new document and starts on a new variation of the lyrics.
However differently he tries to form the lines, he ends up with the same message.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Jin didn't think Yamapi remembered his promise, but a guy named Takumi is calling him a month after that ominous party, and Jin assumes he's that dude Pi mentioned from the radio.
“So, Jin, how are you doing?” The guy sounds pretty cheerful and way too friendly for someone Jin's never seen in his life. “What do you think, can you pop into my studio today at nine? I hear you got a new song to show us? And your tour of course, must let us in on the details, although it's over already... We'll see if there's time for that. A DVD is on queue, right? If there's a DVD, then there's a point talking about it. Come in and I'll boost that stubborn 4.2 for you.”
“Awesome,” Jin replies quickly when the guy stops for half a second the catch some air. “I'll be there.”
“Bring the new song too, we'll tease the audience a bit with it, how about that. I'm eager to hear it, man, you used to have some fun songs!”
He hangs up before Jin gets a chance to say anything else. He looks at the screen of his phone, the little device offering him to rate their conversation. Takumi from zero to five. A moment later, a pop-up informs him that Takumi has already rated him a five. Jin returns the favour, because he needs this guy on his side, although he wouldn't call what they shared a conversation.
He copies the new song along with a couple of others he hopes to play in the show, puts on an actual shirt and waistcoat rather than the usual hoodie, and adds a black hat and sunglasses. On the way there in his car, Jin tunes in to a random radio station and listens to the hosts bantering about movies and actors to get into the mood, to pick up the speed. He hasn't done an interview in years and feels rusty, feels like his brain works slower than the insane speed Takumi runs on. Tonight is important and he needs to be great.
“Very deep.” Takumi approves the new song forty-something minutes later, after they played it for the audience. “Not the song I would sing with the nation's prettiest wife on my side, but deep.” There's a wink that the audience obviously cannot see, but his voice is playful enough so they can guess it's meant as a joke.
Jin allows a small chuckle. He's been practising answers and knows what to say. “I want my fans to be able to relate to my songs,” he says in what he hopes sounds like an earnest voice. “As long as I give hope to the ones who can't find love, I'll sing it.”
Jin can tell his answer is a win. Takumi rambles on the romantic theory of soulmates, and compliments the metaphor of stars Jin's using not only in this song, but in several others too. Jin's actually having fun; he's optimistic that tonight is only the beginning and that he'll get more chances like this in the future.
“You're the romantic type, aren't you, Jin,” Takumi concludes. “There's this other song I like that's pretty romantic, is it not.” He winks again. “Wait, let's listen to what I mean! Ladies and gentlemen, Mi Amor.”
He dances along the tunes while sitting in his chair and asks Jin if he can keep it in his playlist to play it again on another day. Jin feels like he won the lottery, doesn't even mind letting go of the usual fees in exchange for the extra ratings this opportunity would grant him over the coming months. Takumi isn't hosting only this one show, he's a daily regular in an other one too.
“Feeling a lil' more positive now, aren't we?” Takumi addresses the listeners as soon as he mutes the song a minute into it.
By the end of that intense twenty minutes, Jin's a 4.3, which means he received at least a hundred thousands five stars in this small fraction of time.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
FEBRUARY
Happy Birthday!
Jin eyes the simple message for at least ten minutes before he makes up his mind and tweets it. The message pops up on the top of his timeline, and he releases the breath he's been holding. He honestly doubts Kame will see it, because he hasn't tagged him and he doesn't follow Jin on Twitter either. It occurs to him that he hasn't wished Kame happy birthday in like... how many years? He doesn't even remember. He isn't sure he means it this time either, but maybe it will help him go up to 4.4.
Kame used to hate it when random people took him for a social ladder, but Jin isn't exactly a random person. They communicate on the rare days they run into each other and Kame never looks like it's trouble lowering himself to Jin's social level, unlike some people Jin calls real friends. He's quick to stop his brain going down this road and concentrates on the incoming ratings instead. It takes way longer to collect enough five stars on social media than by appearing in radio and tv, but that never set Jin back.
Over the next couple of hours, he periodically hovers over his phone and checks every single rating he receives. A bit less than half of them are zero to two stars, and he wonders why there's a sudden change in the fans' attitude. They loved him mentioning Kame in Macau, so what's the problem now?
It's after he checks the replies to his tweet that he realizes that publishing this small message might not have been the brightest idea, and there's an uncomfortable feeling crawling up his spine accompanying that thought. It almost looks like suddenly he's more popular than Kamenashi, which sounds like a ridiculous idea at first.
Stop relating to losers.
Are you this eager to go back below four?
And these are just the ones on the top of the page.
Jin loads Kamenashi's profile to see where he's ranking at the moment, expects to see the usual five stars completely filled with the bright shade of golden-yellow, but it's set private and his profile is inaccessible. Kame likes his privacy, but no manager would allow him to choose being a boring, tweet-less idol, especially if his account is as popular as it is.
He appears to be deactivated everywhere else Jin thinks to check too. It's unsettling because over the next couple of days Jin realizes that Kame basically disappeared from everywhere. He has no more billboard ads on the street, no more posters in train stations, he's been pulled out of his regular tv shows, and the most frightening one: his name is gone from Johnny's website. Like he never existed.
Jin could just delete the tweet, make sure his carefully maintained ranking stays 4.3, but as it doesn't seems to go down (although it isn't going up either), he decides to keep it. Because Kame's real, even if it's strongly suggested otherwise.
Several hours later, Jin rubs his face with his palms. He needs to focus on this song, but his mind keeps slipping off in the direction of Kame's shocking disappearance. Weirdly, it feels refreshing to focus on something other than the depression party happening inside his head, but maybe not when he has a single to release in April and he's still screwing up the B side song.
“Again,” he grunts into the microphone and he can see Zen and Josh exchange looks on the other side of the glass wall.
“Stop ruining every take,” the latter whines, and Jin hears him crystal clear through his headphones. “I've got other places to be today, man.”
Of course. Jin still isn't relevant enough to devote a whole afternoon to. It's a bit upsetting considering that this is Jin's studio to begin with, that he generously lends to Zen any time he wants it. But whatever.
The music stops just to start again from the beginning of verse two, and Jin musters up as much dedication as he can to sing it well.
They wrap up in thirty-seven minutes in the live room, and then Jin's alone to finish editing his voice, pull it over filters until it's distorted the way he wants it, imitating an echo like he's singing inside a spacious cave. It goes well with deep house elements of the music.
He makes up his mind. He decides to check on Kamenashi personally rather than to get carried further away, speculating stuff like he's also quit KAT-TUN and Johnny's is now punishing him, or is terminally ill, or the insane workload drove him crazy and they locked him up somewhere.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
There's a thin line of light between Kame's door and the frame. It's very uncharacteristic, but exactly what Jin was hoping for when he came here. Kame usually goes to some over the top restaurant on his birthday and invites someone he fancies sharing the evening with, or rents an entire hotel for himself, or visits his brothers or his family. Jin doesn't think he's celebrating tonight; he isn't the type that brings the party home; principals and a pristine reputation above all...
Kame doesn't seem to acknowledge the ringing bell, so Jin tries again a couple more times.
The door opens more abruptly than Jin expects after the last try. Kame is hanging off the edge of the door and looks at Jin with amusement spiced with just a bit of surprise. There's that unique smile plastered on his face, that cute one he puts on when he witnesses something especially funny. He looks like a child for a second. Then he opens his mouth.
“Heh,” he says, his voice a thick velvet blanket. Suspiciously drowsy. Looks like he's had a few drinks too many before Jin came by. He starts swinging and the door swings with him. “Of all people, you.”
“Get inside before someone sees you like this.” Jin hisses, because the last thing Kamenashi needs is his neighbours pulling their phones out, ranking them, or even worse, taking videos and spreading them online.
“Game is over.” Kame chuckles his reply in English with his funny accent that never seems to get better. He is now holding his fingers up and aiming at Jin's head. “Bang!”
Finally he pulls himself off the door, but drapes himself over the door frame instead, attempting to keep his balance and speak at the same time. “Sorry, wrong person,” he announces and aims the finger gun at his own temple instead.
“Get inside,” Jin repeats impatiently and pushes in, bringing Kame with him and shutting the door behind them with his heel. “Are you insane?”
“Absolutely.” Kamenashi agrees and tumbles forward, and he'd fall if Jin wouldn't reach for his shoulders. “Give me a birthday kiss.”
Jin pushes him into the wall and traps him there, so stops being a danger to himself or to Jin.
“Come on, it's no biggy.” Kame is fighting against Jin's hand, but there's no real power in him while he's like this. He's stretching his neck forward like that would make the distance between them any smaller. He's anything but desirable right now, and that has nothing to do with the old washed out shirt and baggy sweatpants, or the fact that he hasn't shaved in days, or that his hair's such a mess Jin wouldn't know where to start untangling it.
“No.”
“Why else would you be here.” It isn't a question and his voice has a serious edge now. He doesn't wait for an answer, just launches forward again and crashes their bodies together, like it's normal to fool around with Jin like this. He doesn't even know where Kame got the idea, why he thinks that Jin'd be into him, but they have more important things to sort out tonight than this minor confusion. He ducks out of his way and shoves him back into the wall, keeps him there firmer than before. He ignores the startled gasp when Kame's back hits the wall, the quiet profanities he throws Jin's way.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” Jin raises his voice because he's getting pissed. He's here to help, can't Kame appreciate that?
“What the fuck are you doing!” Kame shouts back. His eyes turn into narrow slits as they burn holes into Jin. “What, too popular for me now? Came to show off?” There's that snort again which gets on Jin's nerves every time he hears it. Jin senses malice reeking from every inch of his body, anger that he can't place. “4.3-san.”
Kame has always had a way with words and Jin's somehow the single unlucky person who got-still gets, apparently-to listen to the unfiltered version of the overly opinionated pieces of his mind. Once upon a time he counted it a privilege, but it started to feel more like a curse when they stopped being friends. Jin could understand it back then, because Kame did have an unrequited crush on him and Jin didn't make his life easier, but surely he wouldn't still hold grudges for that.
“Right.” Kame displays his sweetest smile misunderstanding Jin's silence, but his face is ugly when it's deformed by hostility. “4.3 isn't quite enough to call you 'san' yet.”
“That's enough,” Jin says and it takes more willpower than he estimated to keep his fist under control and not punch him.
Instead, he drags him off the wall. One hand grasping his arm and the other pushing between his shoulder blades, he shoves him inside the flat, every step another struggle because Kame's heavier than Jin remembered and he's resisting. Kame's a decent fighter, and it takes strength to contain him. Jin manages to drag him into the bathroom, and he grips the hair on the back of his head without the shadow of hesitation before pushing it into the sink.
Jin starts the cold water. It sprays like a fountain for a second, blasting water in every direction until Jin pushes Kamenashi's head further down and adjusts the water pressure. Kame's trying to fight him off with flailing arms, but he gives up and then it's just coughing and spluttering and calling him names. At least they stopped flooding the place. He's trying to squirm his body out of Jin's tight hold, but it's no use. It takes a bit of time until he realizes that struggling won't help him, and gives up completely.
Jin lets his head soak for a good minute before he lets him go. Kame tosses thick, wet locks of black hair out of his face and sprinkles water into every corner of the small bathroom that remained dry before. If his stare was poisonous, Jin would die instantly. He's still coughing and panting like a drowning kitten, shivering because Jin made sure the water was freezing, but he looks sober.
“Another word and I'll put you back there.” Jin warns him coldly. “Have a shower. Shave your face, whatever. But when you're done, I want to talk to Kamenashi Kazuya.” He shuts the door on him. He looks around in the corridor and sighs. He feels exhausted. This isn't what he expected to find here at all.
Not much changed since the last time he's been here, and it's neater than the expected compared to how messed up Kame was a minute ago. The only thing out of place is the whisky glass toppled over on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Jin sprawls on the sofa and leans his head back, inspecting the ceiling out of boredom.
He has never seen Kame behave like this.
It takes him twenty something minutes to piece himself together, but he comes back clean and shaved and decently dressed. His hair is still wet but at least it's not dripping anymore, and his face lost that wild, vicious edge.
He doesn't look at Jin as he sinks into a colourful cushion on the sofa next to him.
“What's going on?” Jin breaks the silence when he realizes Kame doesn't plan to do it. “I don't mean this outstandingly warm welcome you're giving me.” He looks at Kame stubbornly eyeing the very interesting books on the shelves. “Did you get in trouble with the agency?”
Kamenashi sighs. Now that he's sober, he looks as bad as the living dead.
“No. Why are you here?”
“What's up with is your ranking?” Jin asks instead. Kame wouldn't make such a show mocking Jin about his ranking if everything was fine with his.
But he just keeps stubbornly looking anywhere but him.
“Say something,” Jin asks more gentle this time, because he will certainly not give up and Kame can't run from him forever. He pulls his phone out when Kame remains quiet. It's awkward using it against him, like he's spying on him without his consent. The camera recognizes his face and the stars show up above his head, and Jin's heart sinks.
2.1.
A 2.1 will be denied service in the convenience store without someone rating 3.6 or higher vouching for him.
A 2.1 has his details recorded by the police as part of their crime prevention program, even if they wouldn't hurt a fly. Just in case.
A 2.1 is expected to be nothing else than a low life, a criminal, a yakuza, a school drop-out, someone who doesn't give a toss about his life, someone who attacks women, or robs elderly people...
Not fucking Kamenashi Kazuya.
“Enjoying what you see?” Kame mutters bitterly. His voice is dull and resigned.
“No,” Jin answers slowly and puts his phone away. He can't bear another glance at the lack of stars in a profile which usually carried a 5.0, 4.9 in the worst months. “How did get yourself there?”
Kame chuckles. It doesn't end, it turns into laughter, almost bending over himself where he's sitting on the sofa. He doesn't stop, probably can't even, and with every second that passes Jin thinks he sounds more like a lunatic. In the end, he finds it hard to decide whether he's still laughing or he started sobbing somewhere along the way. The noise dies slowly on Kame's lips. It's disturbing to witness, even if he knows it's normal.
“I was just trying to keep us going,” Kame says after he manages to compose himself again. “I know what the rumours say, but I swear I'm not the one trying to ruin us, okay?”
“Of course you're not,” Jin assures him, but he can only guess that he's talking about KAT-TUN.
Kame looks up at the ceiling and sucks in half his cheek. “It doesn't matter what I do, people will hate it. I show my face and it's an instant wave of downvotes. My name appears online and the article automatically gets zero stars. Other people, good people are bullied by my fans if they are connected to me.”
It took Kame a while to get to this place, Jin knows that. The more stars he has and the more votes he collects, the harder it is to lose them. But once he slips below a certain number, the balance shifts and losing more is a lot easier than gaining any of it back. Kame's misfortune is that he's too famous. Somewhere along the way it became trendy to vote him down. For a regular person, a few hundred votes are enough to change ranks. For someone as well-known as him, a million is too few. The more people vote on him, the more vote he'll need later to make a difference in the rankings. It's a vicious cycle.
“How did it start?” Jin asks. Kame would need like fifty million dislikes to go from 5.0 to 2.1 and Jin just can't imagine how anyone can have that many in a single lifetime.
“People needed someone to blame, I think. After Taguchi announced his departure, people started to wonder again if I'm impossible to work with, if I demand too much, if I'm too bossy, if it's me who gets the ones I hate kicked out. Like you or Koki. Which is stupid, because you two were basically the closest- Anyway, the downvotes didn't make much difference at first, but then we announced that we're going on the recharging period, and suddenly it became cool to diss everything with my name on it. And I didn't know what to do, because it started to affect Yucchi and Tatsuya as well after a while. I did my best to stop it, then just focused on my radio program and Going!, but it didn't help. I didn't know what else to do, so I disappeared.”
“What does your manager say? Julie? Johnny?” Jin asks next. The agency has emergency routines tailored and prepared for exactly this kind of disasters, and no one can convince Jin that management wouldn't be able to put an end to this harassment if they wanted to..
Kame shrugs. Management's opinion is most likely more pronounced than what Kame's letting him in on, but it's not hard to guess why he chooses to stay silent. Jin's seen idols go down the drain, knows that most of the time management is more at blame than ungrateful fans. Everyone is disposable and that includes Kamenashi Kazuya. There's a rising star on every corner; one's easily forgotten when there's another to take his place immediately.
“What do Ueda and Nakamaru say?”
“They agree we need to do what's best for the group.”
“You still see them, right?”
“Sometimes. They're too busy to come, but that's good because that means they still have jobs...”
“You have to do something about this,” Jin says.
“What do you think I've been doing the entire last year?” Kame sighs and leans on his arms, hides his face behind his hands.
“But you got to start working again.” The only response Jin's opinion is worth is another snort. Kame reaches for the whisky bottle and the glass that still lies toppled over.
“Go home, Akanishi,” he says after he fills the glass to the brim.
He turns on the tv and gets comfortable leaning back into the colourful pillows, like it's totally normal to watch sappy and mediocre late night drama reruns after a mild mental breakdown, on a nameless channel only Jin's grandma watches.
“No,” Jin replies adamantly. He isn't sure it's wise to leave Kame alone, even if he seems to have relied solely on himself for months already. He'll just drink himself back under the table.
“Then let's fuck,” the younger one says nonchalantly, still watching the tv, but Jin sees through him and doesn't feel comfortable with what he finds.
“No,” Jin tells him.
“Okay,” Kame says, his attention still on the third-rate drama on the screen. “So what are you still doing here.”
It sounds so simple when Kame puts it that way. Jin stands and grabs the jacket he tossed in the corner of the sofa earlier, and he's gone before he can change his mind.
Who is Kame to him anyway.
“Don't bother to come back.”
Let Kame stew in his misery if he prefers it that way.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Jin planned his next song upbeat to compensate the ballad he's releasing in April, something easy and fun about festivals and fireworks the fans can relate to. Yet here he sits, working on a downtempo song, slow beats and soft tunes and lyrics that are putting themselves together more depressed than cheerful. At least today he's inspired to write, so he takes what he gets.
His café vanilla frappuccino tastes nothing like it should, and Jin doesn't know whether the barista messed up the recipe or he's too fucked up to perceive taste normally. He's tired, but his mind keeps spinning uncontrollably. Kame's problems aren't his and he isn't supposed to solve them for him. No one asked him to, either. But he still remembers who was the first person to try reach out to him after his ranking dropped dramatically. It wasn't Josh, wasn't even Pi...
Some girls in their early twenties hunch over an open magazine at the neighbour table. Jin recognizes little Yamada Ryosuke, who isn't all that little anymore, on the pages. He wonders if it's Kame they were in love with a couple of months ago.
He averts his eyes before the girls notice him staring and tries to focus on the music in his ears.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Part 2