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“Tilt your head to the left a little Kozume-san—yes, just like that. And can you lean a little more onto Semi-san? Perfect.” The shutter and flash goes off a few times before the photographer takes a step back, flipping through the series of pictures and conversing with a few assistants.
Kenma breathes out a minor sigh of relief, allowing his shoulders to slump a fraction and relax into a more comfortable position, though still leaning against Semi's back.
“Don't sound too happy yet, we're just getting started.” Yaku says from where he was sitting on the floor beside a sprawled-out Yamaguchi. While the poses and set up was nothing too elaborate Kenma still found the entire thing already taxing. Not to mention that the hot lights weren't exactly pleasant.
Their little band had grown in popularity much faster than any of them had even dared to dream. What had started as something to do for fun and games between friends had turned into a viral video and an overwhelming interest from agencies. While Kenma was thankful for the opportunities to create music with his friends instead of a boring menial desk job, he could have done without all the additional side stuff. He had just wanted to write songs in obscurity.
They were in the middle of a photoshoot for an upcoming magazine spread and promotional material of their upcoming release. Kenma sat on a very decorative couch with velvet cushions beside Semi, Yaku sat at their feet with Yamaguchi laid down on the floor, head pillowed in the other’s lap. It was their last engagement of the day and Kenma was counting down the seconds until they were done and he could go back to his songwriting in peace.
A tickling in the corner of his eye that had been there since the photographing started finally was becoming unbearable and Kenma could no longer resist the urge to scratch.
“Don't touch your eye, you'll mess up the make-up and Suna will be pissed.” Semi chides as soon as he sees the movement. His own brown eyes rimmed with kohl and razor-sharp wings drawn onto his lids. Despite how often they had to wear make-up Kenma still wasn't used to having so much on his face. “If you have something in your eye, just blink it out.”
Kenma lowers his hand scrunching up his nose and trying to blink away the nuisance, “How much longer is this going to take?”
“If we're lucky no more than another hour maybe? Hmm it depends I think.” Yamaguchi pipes up, readjusting himself. “We still have to do all the individual pictures too.”
“Suna said that he wanted to redo our make-up for the individual ones so it’ll be longer than that.” Yaku supplies.
Their photographer chooses then to return. He rearranges their group, this time having Semi and Yamaguchi perched on the backrest of the couch while Yaku and Kenma sat properly in the seats leaning against one another. The routine goes on for some time. Pose after pose the four were arranged and rearranged according to the photographer’s instruction in different combinations over multiple set ups and several sessions of make-up retouching and application. By the time they were finished hours had passed and hundreds of pictures had been taken.
Tossing the last make-up wipe into the waste bin Kenma could finally scratch the itch on his forehead. (Nothing had ever felt so good.) His face was a little splotchy from all the rubbing but otherwise it was nice to be able to feel like himself again. “Yaku, what was that café you went to the other day? You said that it was quiet, and no one bothered you.”
“Huh? Oh, here gimme your phone and I’ll type in the address.” Kenma hands over the device with no qualms and within seconds Yaku returns the phone with the location pulled up. “Yeah, no one even looked my direction other than that annoyingly tall kid, but I’m not sure if it'll be the same with you. Y'know since you and Semi are our visuals. It’s a short walk if you want to do that. Otherwise a drive would only be like a few minutes.”
“It'd be a waste of time to wait for a car if I can walk it. B'sides, it would be more eye catching if I did have to be dropped off.”
“Do you want company?” Yamaguchi offers, stripping out of his outfit and changing into the lounge clothes he had come in with.
“I'd go with you, but I have a date and I don't to be late again.” Semi says with an apologetic smile.
“Mm, it’s fine. The extra company would be a distraction.” Kenma replies, slinging a backpack over his shoulders and pulling up the hood on his favourite oversized sweater. “I want to finish a new song."
°°°
There was no one in the café when Kenma enters, a lone barista with messy black hair stood behind the counter wiping down the counters and machines, humming to the music from the speakers. The bell above the door alerts him of a new customer and he turns around, a wide smile in place and greeting on his lips as Kenma approached the counter, “Welcome in! What can I get started for you?”
Kenma spares a cursory glance at their display case, “A large vanilla latte with extra whipped cream and a slice of the apple pie, please.” He murmurs.
“You got it. Anything else?”
Kenma shakes his head.
“Kenma-san, right?” The man asks, pen hovering over a paper cup with a crooked grin.
“…Yes.” Kenma raises a brow, curiosity piqued since the man was being much more casual than most that recognized him.
“Nice to meet ya. Lev was showing everyone that picture he took with you guys all last week. The brat wouldn't stop talking about the concert.” He pens down Kenma's name despite being the only patron in the café before ringing up the order, “¥1200 will be your total.”
“Lev?” He asks, pulling out the exact amount.
“Tall, lanky, half-Russian with grey hair, really excitable and loud. Can't really miss him.”
“…” Kenma remembers him clearly now that the other had described him. The tall kid had indeed gone to their concert the other night and had been easy to pick out in a crown and was very very loud afterwards when they did the fan meeting and signings. He had hovered around Yaku for so long that he had held up the line and had to be asked to move. Several times.
Something must've shown on his face as the café employee was laughing. It was an obnoxious throaty sound, not unlike a hyena in the wild. “I guess you do remember him. Anyways, take a seat and I’ll bring your food out when it’s done.”
Giving a brief nod Kenma scans the floor and picks out a table tucked away in the corner by some artwork and shelves.
As soon as he was seated Kenma pulls out his well-used notebook and pens. Flipping to a half-written page in the back he notices how few pages he had left and makes a mental note to stop by a stationary store soon. Uncapping his favourite pen Kenma begins writing down a few lines he'd been musing over in his head, attempting to make them fit into the half-finished song somehow. The words came easily enough, a flow that he was familiar with took over as he hummed through the potential lyrics.
Kenma stops writing only once to thank the barista for his drink and food. He takes a short break to drink and eat before continuing, the world around him easily fades away to just ambient sounds as a few patrons come and go. None of them approach him or even come near his table. For that Kenma is grateful. Whether or not they had recognized at all him and decided to not interrupt or not doesn't really matter, he was still painfully anxious about interacting with strangers without his bandmates and friends as buffers. He was happy enough to blend in and be invisible.
The barista interrupts him once to check in and strike up a short-lived conversation about the song he was writing. He wasn't terribly nosey, but certainly curious. Kenma takes the opportunity to order another slice of the pie. After that it was only the occasional glance over his shoulder when the barista passes by, wiping down tables or delivering orders. Kenma doesn't mind as long as he doesn't become a nuisance.
Squeezing the last characters onto the edge of the page Kenma sighs as he finally runs out of room. With an annoyed frown he begrudgingly pulls out some sticky notes and jots down the last few words before pressing them onto the page and closing the notebook, setting his pen down beside it. He would definitely have to buy a new notebook before going back to the band’s flat; he'd been hoping to put off the task until tomorrow maybe.
Kenma begins clearing his area and reorganizing the table decorations that he'd move aside.
“Leaving so soon?” The barista asks, wiping down a table nearby.
Kenma spares him a nod while he packs up the last of his pens, “I’m out of pages.”
A curious look over takes the barista's features before brightening suddenly, “Wait here for just another minute?”
Before Kenma could even reply the man was rushing off back behind the counter and pulling out an array of ingredients. He watches in fascination as the barista begins throwing together a sort of drink and measuring out liquids in a cup. The sound of a blender jolts him out of his trance and Kenma finishes up his packing, sliding his notebook gingerly into his backpack beside other knick-knacks and one of his handheld gaming consoles. He settles back down into his seat and waits patiently as the man finishes whatever he was concocting.
A large plastic cup is eventually set in front of him, a drink topped with a mountain of whipped cream straw sticking straight up out and crystalized flakes of something sprinkled all over, “Tried something new. My treat. Let me know what you think of it?” The man winks, golden eyes expectant.
Hesitantly Kenma brings the straw up to his lips, eyeing the other warily, unsure of what to expect as he takes a small sip. The drink could have been absolutely vile despite its pretty appearance for all he knew.
He was quickly taken aback.
It was sweet. Very sweet. Almost overwhelmingly so had Kenma not have an insatiable sweet tooth.
It was also cinnamon-y…and apple-y?
Quickly taking another much larger sip, he can't help but make a sound of enjoyment. Whatever this was he should have ordered it from the start.
“I take it that you like it?”
Kenma vigorously nods at the unique drink. It was almost like drinking an apple pie without all the weird chunks of crust that survived being thrown into a blender.
“Noticed that you seemed to like our pie. So, I tried making an apple pie drink without having to blend one up. Looks like it was a success.” He says with a satisfied smirk, hands planted on his hips in a victorious pose. “Maybe we'll even make this a menu special…anyways, I don’t want to keep ya from whatever you have to go do. Have a good evening and come back sometime! I’ll make you another one.”
Before Kenma could say anything else a customer enters and the man quickly returns behind the counter, not sparing a glance back.
Picking up his backpack Kenma continues sucking up the cold and delicious drink as he exits.
Lost in thought as he walked to the nearest stationary store by chance Kenma glances down and something on the side of the cup draws his attention. In neatly scrawled characters he finds a name and number along with a message: It was nice to meet you. I haven't heard your music before but I'll give it a listen. I'd love to hear your song when it's finished ;)
“Kuroo Tetsurou.” He hums, the name rolling off his tongue easily enough. Kenma pulls out his phone to input the new contact.
Just in case.
While he was at it Kenma snaps a picture of the drink in his hand, angling it just right to be aesthetically pleasing against the backdrop of the street before pulling up his twitter to attach the picture and typing out a post and hitting the submit button.
If the café wasn't busy before, it would be now.