Like water and alcohol, reality and fiction began to merge like lovers, making Tysone dizzy. One month had gone by—and from time to time, he'd question if his previous life could have been a very lucid dream.
Was this reality? Or was his old life merely some fabricated dream?
There was only so much you could rationalize before it got old. Tysone didn't want to be a typical main character surrounded by the drama of existence itself. That'd just ruin the flow.
He had other worries—like a looming figure that was the zombie apocalypse and making something out of a life that was full of disappointment and poverty.
One damn month had gone by.
Tysone had slimmed down considerably compared to his previous self. A lot of flab had disappeared, and although he looked far from the Adonis figure he envisioned himself to be in the future, it was still a good start. He was healthy—and wasn't that all it mattered?
His Japanese was coming along nicely; in fact, Saya had been surprised many times. He was still far from proficiency, though. Oh, but it was fun. It was not the language itself that made him grin from ear to ear, oh nuh-uh, it was the surprised reactions from the locals when they heard a 6 '7 black guy speak Japanese.
Apparently, being bilingual was a white people thing, so everyone would comically lose their shit when it was a dark-skinned guy that broke the stereotype.
As for his job at the construction site, it was going smoothly. He had just got his first paycheck. Maybe it was because it was an anime world, or maybe it was that Japan was in the middle of an economic boom, but his salary was generous, enough for him to save up for his projects and have enough to live like a normal human being.
As for Mai, he had seen her a few times, which was probably a whole lot more than many people at her school did. Unironically. He couldn't tell whether her 'problem' had gotten better or worse. It seemed to have gotten into a stalemate of sorts—her words.
Not that Tysone knew the ins and outs of it. Just because he watched the anime didn't mean he remembered every single detail. For all he knew—with this being a different world with different characters—Mai's syndrome might have been altered slightly.
If that was the case, then Tysone's knowledge was like a key to a lock that didn't exist. It might seem like it'd work at first, but once turned, it'd get stuck. 'We still have time.'
"Why don't you go back to your acting? I know you've taken a break for personal reasons, but at least it'd increase your visibility. It'd be hard to forget you if your face is plastered on every billboard." Tysone said over a mug of coffee. "Facing the very same thing you're escaping from could be a step in the right direction."
"..."
Mai merely glanced at the steam billowing out of her own mug.
"I don't know…" She smiled. A wry one. She had a melancholy beauty in that moment. "I don't hate acting. I like it, actually. But…" She trailed off.
"I know." Tysone took a sip. "Lack of a private life. Pressure. Expectations. It's all stuff that slowly eats you up inside, or breaks you in half, making you wish you never chose this life. At the very beginning, the allure must have been incredible and overwhelming. The passion. The fun. But you started out so young. Acting must feel like a prison sometimes. All eyes on you. Your worth is based on how many awards you can accumulate. A constant treadmill of success. As soon as you stumble or hesitate, people will run over your corpse without a second glance."
She was about to reply when he tapped his finger on her hand, making her blink in surprise. He continued in that deep rumbling voice of his. "But hey, think about all the good things."
"What good things?"
"I could become an actor as well, who knows?" He shrugged, offering a tiny smile. "I don't know a whole lot about acting, but how hard can it even be?" She pouted at that, not liking how he was undermining her job. "We could be the male and female lead respectively. You the fair beauty; me the villain, continuously trying to sabotage you on your way to a happy ending."
"Sabotaging doesn't sound very villainous... It seems more like you're doing me a favor at that point."
"Eh, screw it. We could be friends instead. Imagine you're some amnesiac princess from afar who gets her memories back with a kiss from me."
She snorted. Then, a chuckle escaped those glossy, pretty pink lips. The tension drained out of the atmosphere like water swirling down the drain. "That's silly... And also a popular trope. What makes you think people would enjoy it? What's so special about an amnesiac princess and the first prince she meets?"
"It has nothing to do with specialness." Tysone answered. "It's corny and predictable as hell. But people will always flock to something they enjoy regardless if it is good or not."
"Well…" She pursed her lips. "I can't really see you as an actor." Tysone was about to open his mouth, but she beat him to it. "And it's not because you're black!"
He chuckled, tipping his mug at her, as if to congratulate her quick-wittedness. "I can't see you as an actress either, but here you are, suffering from success." He lifted his mug to take a sip, only to realize it was already empty. He closed his eyes. "Besides, I'd be in it solely for the money."
"You're very materialistic." Mai rolled her eyes.
"I'm not materialistic. I'm a realist, Mai." Tysone explained, his tone flat. "And this isn't a corny attempt to show you how cool and cynical I am. It's basic survival. Money opens doors. It grants you freedom and security. Maybe you haven't been there before, not like I did anyway. This is merely a byproduct of a frugal life. Poverty. Pointed fingers. A brother who went down the deep end. Without money, you live your life caged like a rat—one that's desperate and frantic, latching on every opportunity. But those opportunities are so goddamn slippery."
It was amazing how this strange girl would listen to him so attentively. Maybe it was because she was a bit starved for attention now that she experienced solitude. She looked deeply into his eyes. "Is this why you're helping me, Tysone? Because I have money?"
"You're too cute if you believe that." Tysone said smoothly. "Why would I toil and sweat at the construction site every damn day for 8 to 9 hours straight if that was the case?"
"I-Is that so…?"
"Nah, I'm lying. I want all of your money, Mai."
Mai blinked, staring at him with wide eyes, her mug frozen halfway to her lips. There was a pause, and then Tysone leaned back, flashing a tiny smile. "Yeah, I've got a master plan, you see. I'm gonna build myself a throne out of yen bills and drink matcha lattes made with liquid gold. Real talk, though, that sounds exhausting as shit. I'll probably settle for some decent sushi and a heated toilet seat."
She snorted, trying to stifle a laugh. "A heated toilet seat?"
Tysone nodded solemnly. "Oh, absolutely. You haven't lived until you've experienced the warm embrace of a toilet seat in winter. It's like a hug for your soul... from underneath."
Mai giggled, setting her mug down before she spilled it. "You're ridiculous."
"As ridiculous as your claims that I'm the type of person to approach others merely for the benefits they offer. You think I approach girls solely for their money? Hell no. Who do you think I am? One of your stuttering childhood friends who are so painfully awkward when in front of pretty girls that they cannot function normally without a speech therapist, some food to eat and 12 episodes of romcom shenanigans before you anticlimactically kiss them under the fireworks?"
Mai blushed, coughing lightly into her fist as she suddenly looked away.
"I approach girls only if I think they're intriguing, Mai. Intellectually, spiritually, emotionally. Only if they're genuine, smart and sincere. Kind. Sweet. Demure... or if they have enormous jugs." Tysone waved a hand, as if to dismiss his previous speech. "But that's the only exception."
"I knew it!" Mai snapped. "You're a pervert!"
...
"With that being said…" Tysone glanced at a pouting, irate Mai. "I have a favor to ask of you, Mai."
She wanted to stay mad at him, but ended up sighing, uncrossing her arms, and settling for a mild glare. "What favor?"
"Well… it would be nice if you could recommend some music publishers slash producers to me. I'd like to sell some of the lyrics that I've written."
"You… what?"
Mai's eyes widened as she stopped dead in her tracks.
Tysone's eyes crinkled in amusement.
Mai immediately followed up. "And it's not because you're black, you doofus!"
Author Note: More chapters on P@treon.com/LordCampione.
Creation is hard, cheer me up! VOTE for me!
Please don't forget to leave a review and comment it would really boost my mood for this novel.
Don't forget to gimme some stones if you enjoy the story and please leave your theories about it to since this is a complete AU story things won't be like in the Comics
"Anyway…" Mai heaved a deep, exasperated sigh, her eyes closed. "You're in luck. I do know a few overseas music producers and labels. I can get in contact with them for you. I might be on break, but surely, they'll give me some face."
She cracked an eye open, to gauge Tysone's reaction, only to find him pondering with a deep look on his face and a hand on his chin.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing… I was just wondering whether you should straight out tell them that you're the one who came up with the lyrics." He said, slowly—she almost didn't hear him. "You get the credit, and I get the money."
"Wait… what?" Mai leveled him a look of disbelief.
Tysone flashed a smile her way. He looked serious as hell. Mai couldn't take it any longer and kicked her feet out at him beneath the cafe's table, but alas, his were like pillars of wood and would not budge in the face of such a fair maidenly kick. He was made of steel!
"Look, I know it sounds weird, but trust me, it's smarter this way." Tysone tried to explain his case. Mai kicked again for good measure, like the petulant kid she was. She scowled. She wanted to be angry... but she also wanted to know where he was going with all this.
"Why wouldn't you want your name on your own work? Don't you want the credit?"
Tysone wasn't someone to mince words, so he shot her with a frank gaze. He sounded tired—resigned, in a way. "Credit's nice, but credit doesn't pay bills. I need to think about what's practical."
"But what's the problem with your name?" Mai frowned.
"Let's be real, Mai. I'm an unknown in this world. Worse yet, I'm an outsider. And even worse, a black guy trying to break into a market that's—how do I put it—pretty damn selective about who gets in." He sighed.
"That's..." She hesitated, looking troubled. How cute, the way she felt bad for him.
He waved her off. "No, it's cool, I'm not saying it's some sort of conspiracy. But you know the way things work here. If I attach my name, they might not even bother to look past that. They might think it's some sort of publicity stunt or worse—some random kid's lyrics stolen off the internet."
"So you think they'll take the lyrics more seriously if it's coming from me." Mai looked resigned. She hid it well.
"Exactly. You already have a foot in the door. They know your face, they trust your name. You put these lyrics out there, and they'll listen. We get them to buy in first, and then maybe, just maybe, we worry about the name later. Right now, the priority is getting those yen notes flowing, you feel me?"
"T-There's no need to talk like some Yakuza gangster!" She shook her head.
Tysone downplayed the depressing atmosphere a bit. "Maybe I am." He chuckled. "A pervert yakuza boss who preys on 18 year old virgins for kicks and giggles. Dangerous and deadly." Mai tried to kick him again—he expected it, blocking the kick with his foot. He curled his lips, flashing an impish, boyish grin her way.
"Idiot." Mai muttered. "Alright, fine. I'll give it a shot. But if they end up being terrible, I'm throwing you under the bus immediately. And I mean, immediately."
"Always appreciated." Tysone nodded sagely. "If my girls aren't capable of cold-blooded murder, then I don't want them."
"O-One of your girls?!" Mai recoiled.
"Oh." Tysone blinked innocently, a hand over his mouth. "Did I say that out loud?"
Mai blushed and turned around. She seemed at a loss for words, before glaring at him. "It's on, black pervert. The yen notes on that heated toilet seat are mine."
"You called me black..."
"Don't say that out loud!"
Mai screeched, slamming both hands over his mouth, her red face comical in its display of fury. Tysone's shoulders shook in mute mirth, his dark hands grabbing hers before gently prying them off him.
"You know, I can give you the pass."
"What pass!"
"The n-word pass."
She gasped. How melodramatic.
"I-I don't know what you're talking about."
Tysone perched his jaw on one hand, staring intensely at the lovely girl in front of him. It was kind of amusing and incredible how he could see, so clearly, the way her fair cheeks gained a dramatic red hue. "It's fine." He chuckled again, much to Mai's consternation. "One day I'll make you say it. For now, I'll settle for you so unashamedly calling me black in a public place. Like, Jesus, Mai... that's very lewd stuff."
"...I'll bite your head off if you're trying to sexually harass a celebrity." Mai tried to act like her usual prim and proper self again. Tysone felt a sort of sick amusement when people acted contrary to the way they portrayed themselves.
"A celebrity? Weren't you a washed out actress—oof!"
Mai promptly—and successfully—kicked Tysone's shin.
"Okay, okay, calm down, Mai. You're quick to pull the trigger, you know?" He said, nursing his leg.
"I am not." Mai said, pompously. "If anything, it is you who is quick to say hurtful, disgusting things!"
"Like how you enjoy calling me black? I knew you had some weird kinks, Mai—"
Another kick. Tysone wouldn't be a normal modern world guy with common sense if he couldn't foresee such events. But man, Mai had good legs.
"I'd like to enjoy this tea. By myself." Mai turned up her nose, all the while acting prim and proper again as if she hadn't kicked the life out of him two times in the past 40 seconds.
He chuckled, standing up. "Alright, I'll leave you be then."
"Right, right. Be gone." She nodded, muttering with self-righteous 'um!' with each nod.
Tysone picked up his stuff and began to walk away wordlessly. Naturally, Mai stared at his back. And when it seemed like he wouldn't turn around and come back, she hesitantly called out to him. "Wait… where are you going?" She didn't really mean it.
"Home." Tysone casually answered. "I'll send you the lyrics via text. It's an English song, so make sure to seek out a label that's likely to be interested in it." He reminded her, giving her a cool two-fingered wave and disappearing around the corner.
"That damn guy." Mai sighed. "At least pay for your own food."
…
Tysone sat in silence, a pen spinning skillfully in his hand. The sheet of paper in front of him laid there blankly for the past few hours. He didn't write a single word on it.
It was not for a lack of options; too many of them, in fact. But Tysone needed something powerful, yet not exaggerated. He couldn't possibly introduce the wonders of Tupac, Nas, Kendrick to the world. Besides, he had to make it look like Mai herself could have written it. He had to exclude excessive swearing.
Something powerful, emotional, simple yet touching.
Something that Mai could resonate with.
His memory was limited. After all, remembering every word and verse of every song he knew wasn't easy.
After another hour of deep contemplation, an idea struck him.
He closed his eyes and let it play in his mind, feeling the gentle, sad beat. In a way, he hoped the lyrics would strike a chord within Mai, because in a way, this song was for her.
Without the music to go along, it wouldn't have a dramatic impact, but the lyrics should still convey something. He hoped it would, otherwise Tysone would look like an idiot trying too hard.
'If she feels anything from this, she's likely to trust me as much as she did the original protagonist of her anime verse.'
With a mighty pen in hand, all he needed was some somber background music and a Death Note. Though, instead of giving heart attacks, he'd give inspiration!
Did he feel bad for plagiarizing someone else's work for personal gain? Not at all; he wasn't going to make a career out of it, just some quick money. Besides, he'd be doing this world a favor since, from what he's listened to, the English songs of this mish-mash of anime verses were subpar, at best.
'Could I become Michael Jackson?'
Wouldn't that be kind of funny?
He shook his head, his grip tightening. He couldn't sing the zombies to death. Fame? It was all temporary. Fuck that shit, seriously.
Words flowed through his pen quickly, from within the tip, and onto the paper beneath. The intro. Insutremental (which type as well), verse 1, verse 1, chorus, bridge, and everything else. He wrote, hard and fast— as if one moment of distraction would lead him astray.
At long last, he stared at the lyrics he wrote, checking and rechecking for anything that wasn't right.
Perfect.
…
Mai was in the bathtub when her phone vibrated. She groaned, twisting her body and reaching for the damn device. As she did so, water cascaded down her fair, smooth body, revealing a rosy, natural flushing due to the heat.
She flipped her phone open—a text message. From Tysone. She had been expecting it, though not so soon. Part of her believed he was bluffing. Was she wrong?
The chat opened up, revealing a long paragraph formatted into neat lines of prose. There was no music attachment, but her eyes were still drawn to the text.
She submerged herself deeper in the water, holding her phone barely above its surface.
Mai read the lyrics silently.
Author Note: More chapters on P@treon.com/LordCampione.
Creation is hard, cheer me up! VOTE for me!
Please don't forget to leave a review and comment it would really boost my mood for this novel.
Don't forget to gimme some stones if you enjoy the story and please leave your theories about it to since this is a complete AU story things won't be like in the Comics
Anda mungkin juga menyukai
Komentar Paragraf
Fitur komentar paragraf sekarang ada di Web! Arahkan kursor ke atas paragraf apa pun dan klik ikon untuk menambahkan komentar Anda.
Selain itu, Anda selalu dapat menonaktifkannya atau mengaktifkannya di Pengaturan.
MENGERTI