Jyuu (jyuufish) wrote,
Jyuu
jyuufish

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| Fic | "Special" | Models and Musicians | Umeda-centric |

Title: Special
Fandom: Multi-fandom private "Models and Musicians" RP between me and shuufish
Character: Umeda Hokuto (from HanaKimi)
Song Inspir': "Special" by Mew
Alluded Pairing: Who else could I write for Umeda then Akiha? I'm just not an Umeda/Ryuichi type girl.
Notes: In this RP, Umeda is a.. horror upon horrors, fashion designer. One who is constantly present at shoots, also one who goes OUT OF HIS WAY to antagonize the models, something that I knew he'd probably enjoy doing. Reading his profile, I was aware that Umeda was very fashion centric, and so I couldn't help but put him in the thick of fashion, because it just seemed to suit him. The thought of Umeda looking at the models with those piercing eyes and making sure that they realized exactly who was in control, that's a sexy image right there. I can imagine he's a real nazi out there, but I can also believe that if you prove yourself to him, there is nothing he -won't- do for you. I think that's the best thing about Umeda in my opinion. Enjoy this little ficbit.



"Honey bee
I know what you said to me
And I don't care at the same time
And what do you stay to do?
I saw the worst of you"


Umeda Hokuto's life was hectic, in the sense that there were twenty four hours in the day and still not enough time in the day to accomplish it all. Being a renowned fashion designer whose fashions were seen all along the runways of Paris and Milan, well he would of liked to have said that he didn't let it go to his head, but he let it and likewise it did. His offices were always busy, the phones consistantly ringing off the hook in chaotic succession of shows and gigs while he scetched out his designs, rifled through the finest fabric emporiums and brought everything together into a cohesive string of cause and effect.

The Cause was Umeda and the Effect was everyone that gathered around him.

He never ever let people forget that one important fact.

The fact was that he had started at the bottom like everyone else however he had not been content to exactly stay there. Even if it meant kissing ass, he did it.. gaining the contacts that he would need for his solo venture and making sure that before he left Armani, he left in good standing. One never knew when they'd need that extra little push. It had started out simple enough, accessories.. enough to gain him note and then he would sneak little pieces of a line here and there in shoots... until finally people were asking about that fabulous silk blazer or that seed beaded hip huggers. That was when he knew it was time to go full force with his line, and with Armani's continued support, he was full steam ahead, riding on the laurels of his own magnificience.

Oh but he was renowned for quite a few things in his ongoing career. He always had a bottle of evian water on him, that was to wash away the bile that would occasionally rise to his throat for whatever reason, after all he was much too graceful to throw up on set, and he'd rather have his wits about him in order to publically shame and humiliate every single model that crossed his path.

There was nothing sacred when he was on set for a shoot. A barking that their asses were too fat, a jibe that could of been more personal. Every single model got the same treatment, it was like deep conditioning military training, except it was not exactly that. Those that did not crack underneath his barrage of words he eventually accepted them, usually offered them contracts to represent his fashion line. The fact though was that for every hundred models that he would try, he kept only two or three on average. After they passed, he usually did not come to shoots involving them unless of course there was a specific reason that he be there. With his prize model, Sigele.. he rarely came to shoots, having been just as hard on her at the beginning and then when he realized she wasn't caving, he backed off in a move that was rare for him but it was treatment that was only given his favorites as few as those were.

And they all danced to his whims, a smile would tug against his lips as he realized how far they went to please him, and then he realized how much power he truly had, like the cat who had gotten into the cream pot. It was a smile that he did not show to very many people and yet it was a smile that probably was captured a dozen times by the camera of a certain photographer that he more often then not used in order to carry out his vision.

The world would continue to turn, the tides would go in and out and contracts would change at the drop of a button, however Umeda hoped that his bitchiness would be the constant in an otherwise unpredictable life. Because while Umeda knew that his demands were at times excessive, he believed that he was predictable in his own way. It certainly took a special person to realize that and react accordingly. He did not notice the subtle way that Akiha Hara, his chosen photographer lent his power to him, the undercurrent wherever they both were being charged with electricity, he did not notice it over those eyes that he thought looked vapid and silly.

Except in certain moments when the both of them were right in the zone with whatever it was that they were doing and then their eyes met and then Umeda saw that there was much more to those eyes then what he had previously imagined. Something that promised so much sizzle as to leave him nearly breathless. Those moments soon disappated in the realm of 'what might of been' and life went on.

But still he occasionally looked back on those moments and wondered indeed, 'what could of been..'>, He never persued them, he was not silly enough to do so, but it made for several delightful imaginings saved for when he was in the office, no work to do.. nothing, just those thoughts that flowed and that energy that hovered on the brink of his memory and still charged with sweet decadence.

He always left those fantasies in the office where they belonged.

They really had no place in the structured yet alternately chaotic organization of the haute couture life he led beyond those doors.

"I know what you said to me
And I don't care at the same time
But I'll take you up and down
Address it to you"
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