Chapter Text
November was going to be disappointing, Rona finally admitted to herself, when her boyfriend informed her in the morning he was going to be spending the entire month back home. With his suitcase already packed, Savi followed the upset Rona around the apartment. "I know, I know, I should've warned you before, but it's all so sudden!" He told her, his guilt showing in his voice. Rona went into the kitchen and began digging through the fridge, her stomach desperate for something to digest. "Nani fell down the stairs in her house, and my dads can't go! Cousin Eleanor's parents and me are the only people who can be there! Nani can't spend Mawlid all alone with a broken tailbone!" Urging her to listen, Savi pushed Rona out of the fridge, making her face him. Rona looked away, afraid he'd laugh at her for being angry. She understood what was going on, it was just hard to be alone. But the last thing she wanted to hear, was him making fun of her. Savi seemed to be just as distressed as she was, suddenly wrapping Rona in a tight but unsteady hug, his whole body trembling slightly. "Don't be mad at me, Rona. Don't make me choose between you and Nani." He mumbled, his words almost intelligible, if not for the proximity of his lips to her ear.
Sighing with a heavy heart, Rona hugged Savi back, trying to comfort him with her strength. What a delicate creature he was. "I won't, I won't. I'm glad your grandmother was someone like you to rely on," she said, gently. She held back on saying anything else, partially because she didn't want to say anything stupid, but also because she wanted to take in as much of Savi as she could.
A knock at the door broke up their moment, Rona giving it a sharp glare. Chuckling softly, Savi rubbed the back of her head, as he loosened his grip on her. "Sorry, they found a good deal for today," he explained, a regretful tone in his voice. Rona looked up at him, biting her lip so that she didn't frown or scowl. A rough kiss on her forehead, and some tears escaped. "I'll call, and text, and do whatever I can to stay it touch," he said, wiping away the tear that had slid to her left cheek.
Rona felt guilty for crying, but it couldn't be helped. This would be the first time since they had moved to Japan that they had been apart for more than a week, and she wasn't ready for it. Poor Nani, she thought to herself, Savi will be a miserable companion. "All right, get going. Eleanor's parents don't have much patience," she teased, as she pulled away from him.
Shrugging his shoulders, Savi picked up his suitcase with a casual attitude. "They should get some!" He stated, as he gave Rona another kiss on the cheek, making her smile. "Don't go crazy designing something while I'm gone. If you eat too much and get sick, I'll laugh at you."
With a roll of her eyes, Rona was pushing him towards the door, choosing to ignore his suggestion that she would do that. Those ghost peppers were still ruining her stomach right now. "Just go, I'll be fine," she assured him, as he dragged his feet. Thanks to his bad attitude, she could stand being alone for a while.
Savi whined a little, but when they made it to the door, he straightened up, as they greeted Eleanor's parents. They didn't say much, taking his suitcase and rushing it to the car. Unfortunately, the two of them thought Savi and Rona should've been married by now. They didn't say much, and it didn't really matter at the moment, but still. Within a few minutes, Savi was in the car, crammed between all the suitcases and gifts for Nani. He managed to kiss Rona one more time, even with the two adults groaning nearby. And, just like that, he was gone. The apartment was empty, all except for one designer, who had nothing to design. For a few hours, she just sat on the couch, texting Savi over the phone. He sent selfies and memes, and she just sent emojis. But the parents made him put it down to talk to them, so he had to go radio-silent. And then, there was no one to talk to. How sad. Rona fell asleep on the couch, watching a cooking show about making ribs with an electric heater.
A strange noise entered Rona's exhausted mind, like someone tapping on the inside of her head. Fast asleep, all alone in the apartment, it frightened her to hear the sudden noise, and jolted her awake. She sat up abruptly, almost falling off the couch as she did. But the apartment was empty, except for her. There was a chill in the air, as there would be in November. It was dark, except for a few places where the street lights shed some light through the windows. It almost seemed like a completely different place to the apartment she fell asleep in.
Just as the hair on the back of Rona's neck settled down, a rapid series of furious knocks came from the door, making her jump again. It wasn't her imagination, it was a visitor. A perfectly ordinary knock at the door. Getting up from the couch, with a quick hair-brushing from her hand, Rona opened the door, expecting to see one of her neighbors. Instead, standing there in the November shadows, was a small person. They appeared to have some form of dwarfism, with a normal torso and head, but shortened limbs. Clothed in a fluffy white dress and a red shawl, they seemed almost like a snow fairy, right down to the delicate pink ballet flats they wore. Thick curls of honey brown hair adorned their head, trailing down to their back, twisting and laying all over their shoulders. This person, for all intents and purposes, was adorable. And for a moment, it was all that Rona noticed. Like Chanena, this person radiated something that made you have to look at them. But the way this one was dressed made you lose concentration, and all of their appearance seemed to blend together, like a delightful smoothie you didn't think too much about.
Something did snap Rona back to attention, though. A haunting pair of watery hazel eyes. To see them with the rest of the face was nothing short of breathtaking, as they provided a strange sense of completion to a relatively subtle face. And evidently, the person noticed the shift in Rona's expression, as they spoke up. "I am the person who came trick-or-treating outside your house, I just wanted to get to know you before hand, figure out if you were a garbage person," they began speaking in English, with a sense of urgency Rona hadn't heard since that morning. So many guilty people around her today. "You didn't seem to be, so I went to the fashion show I heard your brand would be presenting at, but when I saw you saw me, I kinda freaked out, so I left. I'm sorry you almost fell off the stage!!" The high-pitched voice was almost intelligible at the speed they spoke, and they seemed to have an accent, so Rona had to stand there for a few seconds more trying to figure out what they had said. This gap inspired the person to keep talking. "If you don't want to talk to me right now, that's perfectly acceptable, I can head home! I understand that it's an unfortunate time of the evening, and you were probably eating dinner, and it's cold out, and I am a bother-" Rona stopped them from continuing on, as she put a hand on their shoulder. She didn't know what she was going to say, but this worried whine was giving her a headache.
The person looked up at her with a weird hopefulness, one that made Rona's chest swell with concern. Thankfully, she remembered that this was probably an idol, so she calmed down a little. "It's okay. You can come in if you want, as long as you tell me your name?" She offered, hoping to bring this conversation inside, as the cold wind was rushing inside her expensively heated apartment.
Smiling in nervous relief, the person nodded quickly, as they hurried inside. "I'm Elspeth, Elspeth Jones. Uh, I'm a she, if you were confused. You can call me Elsie," she introduced herself. Rona shut the door and turned the lights on, realizing how dark it had been here. "I'm an idol! My idol name is L-C, which is short for Living Computer, not the best, I know, but I wanted to use it," she continued on, happily explaining her character. Rona wasn't sure she understood why this girl was telling her all this, but idols were weird, after all. Giving Rona an embarrassed look, Elsie bowed politely towards her. "W-What's your name?" She asked, sounding like she was trying to remember a script.
Rona chuckled softly, finding this tiny idol somewhat endearing. She certainly had the charm to carry off a performance. Sticking out her hand, Rona introduced herself. "I'm Rona Micheals, I'm also a girl. It's nice to meet you, Elspeth," she greeted her, motioning towards the couch as the two of them shook hands. Sitting down, Rona continued. "What did you want?" She questioned, ready to get to the point of the visit.
"Ah, yes. The point, um…" Elsie mumbled stiffly, as she sat down next to Rona, still keeping a good distance from her. There was a strange shift in her attitude, almost imperceptible, but it almost seemed like she was arguing with herself.
Although she didn't say anything, Rona could tell she was uncomfortable. Rona felt both complimented and shamed at the thought. On the one hand, Elsie was probably nervous about dealing with a designer, and only the best designers could make people nervous. However seeing someone shiver and tremble near you made any sensible person feel like garbage. Still, maybe she just didn't like adults. "How old are you, Elsie?" Rona asked, reflexively. If she had to be the adult here, that was fine, but she really needed to know.
Elsie stopped mumbling, giving Rona a relieved look. She really didn't want to get to the point, did she? "I'll be eighteen this next February!" She told her, excitedly. "And you're twenty-three, right?" Her knowledge of that didn't surprise Rona, but the way she said it, with such pride that she knew such a thing, it was kind of amusing. Rona nodded, letting her know that she was right, and Elsie responded with a wide grin. "I've spent a lot of time trying to find out who you are. You haven't exactly put yourself out there, you know," Elsie said this with a somewhat reproachful tone, like she expected everyone to be easy to find. Though, at the same time, Rona had been doing her best. Her agent really wasn't interested in pushing a designer, and compared to being an idol, your name hardly ever got out.
Leaning back on the couch, kind of upset that it was difficult to find herself, Rona gave Elsie a confused look. "So you wanted to find me as a designer, or as a person?" She wondered.
Elsie paused for a moment, as she seemed to be preparing how to answer. It wasn't like there wasn't time to think about it, but shouldn't she already have it by now? "I want your designer skills, but not your brand. You see, I want you to design independently for me." She explained, in a serious fashion.
Unable to keep her smirk down, Rona stared at Elsie, waiting to hear the rest of this joke. But Elsie stared back with no humor, looking like she didn't find anything funny about this. Was she serious? "You want me to design something for you, but you don't want Refined Palate?" Rona asked, beginning to think that she should've just left this girl outside.
Nodding, Elsie made a rough swallow, probably aware that this conversation was getting rocky. "Yes. I admire your designing skills, but I have no interest in food-themed outfits," stating this, Elsie had a determined look in her eyes, one that Rona hadn't seen before.
Still, regardless of how hard this was to ask, Rona felt insulted. She wasn't a free design kind of person. She didn't just take commissions and hire herself out, she worked really hard on food-themed designs. And this child thought she could just come in and change that? With her own determination, Rona faced Elsie, anger rising up in her. "Am I supposed to be grateful that anybody is commissioning me at all?" She inquired, a heavy sarcastic edge to her words, as she stood up to tower over the small Elsie. "I don't just design for fun, you know! I turned down someone recently, and I did it because they also didn't like food designs! If you want independent designs, go bug a several-million dollar company, one that can spare the time! I've got to work for a living!" Shouting at Elsie, Rona was incredibly tired of having to defend her brand. If people wanted to say they looked bad, all right. If someone thought that she was bad at fashion, sure. But people needed to stop picking on the food! She didn't want to make normal dresses, she wanted to make these dresses!
Elsie, of course, seemed frightened. She apparently hadn't anticipated this much emotion. Her eyes flashed with restraint, and her whole body shook. Desperately grabbing her purse, Elsie began digging around in there. "Miss Michaels, I do respect your designs! I respect them so much, I chose you out of a dozen others!" She said, her voice quavering.
Trying to stay calm, as she realized that Elsie wasn't the one to blame for how others treated her, and also that she was still in a very blessed position as compared to others, Rona took a deep breath, speaking only once as she restrained herself. "I can appreciate your respect, but I don't want to design anything else," her words came through gritted teeth, but they were true. She couldn't help it. She liked food. And what about strength of character? What about integrity?
Finally finding whatever it was Elsie was searching for in her bag, she found it. She tossed the bag aside, items spilling out on the floor, and held out an envelope to Rona, an intensely cool look in her eyes. Once again, her attitude shifted, into something that Rona couldn't quite nail down. "I don't have the money to bribe you to do this, but I have something I'm sure you'd rather have," she told her, the cryptic phrasing stabbing straight into Rona's curiosity. Rona gave the envelope a hard look, hoping she could resist taking it. It wasn't money in there, so what was it? What could this seventeen year old have gotten her hands on? Rona reached her hand out slowly, hesitantly grabbing the very edge of this envelope. Letting go of it, Elsie moved her hands back to her lap, a confident smile on her face. She was so sure. How could she be so sure? With little nerve left, Rona gave into her urges, and ripped into the envelope, having no idea what to expect. Inside, a thin piece of laminated faux-plastic, a dazzling sparkly display all over it, and the holographic flower stamp of the Designing Branch of the Idol Business Bureau. Words were typed on one side that read, "This pass allows the owner(s) the right to produce one (1) Premium Rare Coord." Like the rest of the Idol world, it was an unbelievable sight. Rona's legs gave out, and she fell back down into her seat, as she looked down at the pass, her brain refusing to accept its existence. There had been designers who had been given this pass for doing some great event, or for contributing to charity. The Designer's Council only made five every year. It was the next best thing to actually earning the right to produce a Premium Rare. And it was sitting casually in her hand, reflecting her face back at her. "So I've got your attention. What I want you to design is nothing like your current designs, I must tell you," Elsie spoke up, her attitude much more smooth than before. She knew exactly what she was offering. Freaking idols.
Tearing her eyes away from the pass, Rona looked up at Elsie, breathlessly. "H-How…Why...What?" Her brain was still on strike, and so, no words came out. Elsie merely grinned wider at this.
With an emotionless calm, Elsie got up from her seat, moving over to Rona, a bold look in her eyes. "The pass is yours, it's not for my design. My guardian managed to obtain it from a friend. I can also pay some money, but I'm hoping this will be enough," she said, as she put her hand on Rona's shoulder. "Please, Miss Michaels."
Rona stared at Elsie, a strange feeling coming over her. Images of a beautiful Coord came into her mind, and thoughts of a desperate audience filled her. Just one Premium Rare would be enough to get there. However, with a sharp movement, Rona shoved the pass back into the envelope. "I don't know. It's too much. I-I didn't earn it!" She exclaimed, her hands gripping the envelope tightly.
Sighing irritatedly, Elsie shook her head. "You did! You earned my attention, and that's good enough for me!" She asserted, her words only scaring Rona more. There was so little she understood about idols at this point, and yet, they received Premium Rares like candies, treats for just being well-behaved. And this girl didn't want one? She just wanted Rona to design for her? It was all too much. Rona faced Elsie blankly, her words uselessly open. As if able to sense all the panic inside her head, Elsie took the envelope back from Rona. "I thought you were ready. I'm sorry. If you change your mind, please, please, please call me," with those words, Elsie handed her a business card, two telephone numbers and a name on it. Elsie picked her purse up, putting her spilled possessions back inside, and walked to the door. The whole time, Rona sat with a guilty expression, her hand cold and empty after losing the pass. Glancing back, Elsie gave a weak smile. "Thank you for talking to me, Miss Michaels. Sorry for intruding," she apologized with a slow bow, as she opened the door and walked out. And with a quiet close, all at once, Rona's apartment was once again empty, save for her.
Morning came, Rona recognized. She had eaten something last night, and had taken a shower before crawling into her bed. But as she lay in bed now, she didn't seem to know what was going on. The chance of a lifetime, again. All that she had to do was play ball, just like last time. How many opportunities for her to change her priorities would appear, before the world realized she couldn't handle it? Savi had texted, but she hasn't answered. It was still early. She could still be asleep. However, Trik called. And called, and called, and called. He was apparently in the mood to talk. After what felt like thirty minutes of non-stop ringing, Rona accepted that she couldn't keep ignoring him. Picking it up, Rona greeted him, "Morning, Trik, I was in the shower," she explained, hoping he wouldn't get mad at her.
A soft scoff came from the other end of the phone, and Trik responded. "Your boyfriend called me. He said you were probably in the kitchen. Seems like he doesn't know you too well," he teased, sounding cheerful at the moment.
Rona mock-laughed at his statement, as she sat up in the bed. "Time zone difference, probably. Well, thanks for calling, I appreciate it," she told him, wanting to hang up already. Another shower couldn't hurt, right?
Whining in annoyance, Trik must've shifted the phone around, as his voice disappeared for a second. He was getting ready to have a long conversation. "Come on, I'll invite you out to breakfast. Nena is meeting with some photographers today, and I wasn't asked to come along. So, you're my revenge," he joked, a playful tone to his voice.
Even though she knew getting out of the house would be good for her, Rona still didn't want to. But talking to Trik was, at the very least, making her want to be awake. "I don't want to, but can I ask you something?" She inquired, biting her lip out of anxiety. Trik acquiesced, and so she went on. "What would you do if someone offered you the ability to make one Premium Rare?" Asking this, Rona hoped she didn't sound too obvious. Though how many people would assume that she had glimpsed one of the only Premium Rare passes in the world?
Trik made a soft sighing noise as he considered the question, which seemed to take forever to Rona, who was waiting impatiently. At last, he answered. "I'd probably ask Chanena first, but I'm pretty sure she'd kill someone to get a Premium Rare. I mean, those kinds of designs, they're nice, but to me, they're for idols. I don't love my normal designs less, even if they don't have a big shiny sticker on them that says they deserve more attention," he said, somewhat preachy towards the end. He wasn't wrong, all the same. Premium Rares were incredible, but until you were churning them out every other day, they could be quite difficult to produce. They cost money and time, time that could be used to design several rares or normals. And Trik wasn't the kind of person who cared about that. But was Rona? "Did you get an offer?" Trik questioned, intuitive as always.
Chuckling nervously, Rona shifted the phone in her hand, trying to think of how to put this. She didn't owe him an answer, but she could use some help in figuring this out. "Well, kinda. If I design outside of Refined Palate, I could have it," she confessed to him, awkwardly. The way she put it, it sounded awful. But seeing that pass in person was so good.
There was silence over the phone, and Rona wondered if he had hung up on her. But, she heard Trik clear his throat, like he was ready to give a lecture. "If someone asked me to design outside of Dancing Swirl, I never would. I don't want to do anything else but design for that, and even at the cost of refusing a Premium Rare, I wouldn't," he stated, his honest nature obvious through the phone. Oh, to have such a strength. He continued. "But, Michaels, it's your brand. You turned down Nena. You don't have to prove anything to anybody. You just have to design."
The silence that followed his statement wrapped around Rona like a tight hug, like a reassurance that she wasn't headed the wrong way. It would've made a lesser person cry. As it was, Rona hung up before that happened. She sat for several minutes, alone, just hugging at her knees. Her stomach hurt, and she was getting a headache, probably from the storm that was coming. But she didn't move. She was trying to work up the nerve. The nerve that a girl with dwarfism had used to come all the way here, dressed as a ghost, to ask for candy she couldn't eat. Oh, to have the nerve of an idol.
The phone rang on with no response for several seconds, Rona clutched it tightly next to her ear, too nervous to put it on speakerphone. After an silly amount of time, a high-pitched voice answered. "Miss Michaels?" She asked, hopefully.
Smiling stupidly, Rona stifled a chuckle, as she tried to be serious. "Yes, Jones, it's me. I'll take your job," she told her, a ridiculous amount of anxiety leaving her as she said those simple words.