Chapter Text
Friday 2nd September, Dazai, Outside the audition venue
“Yuan, please stop pulling on my hand your going to rip it off”
The short boy responded with a softer voice. The kid couldn’t be older than 15 considering how short he is, with strawberry blonde hair and blue brown heterochromia to match. He had freckles dotting over his nose and cheeks and sharp features. He was lean, with well defined muscles — not buff like he went to the gym — but agile like a gymnast. He was attractive, Dazai mused but the likelihood of a pretty face also having talent was next to none. He isn’t what Mori would look for in a child star, but he’s unconventionally pretty I suppose. A hint of a smirk spread across his face as he observed the shorter boy interacting with the people around him. The boy was kind, he could tell, but was such a foul-mouth that it was scratching his brain unpleasantly. I thought I was short, but he’s even shorter than me. Dang he can barely ride a rollercoaster…
Dazai’s eyes slid to the even shorter girl beside the boy, probably around 140 something tall, rocking pink hair that Dazai swears has to be dyed — considering how unfortunately dazzling it is to the eyes — with similar features to the boy she was clinging onto, likely her brother. Unfortunately for the girl, her brother clearly won the genetic lottery. He’s objectively much better looking than any girl I’ve met. If only he was taller, pity.
“Dazai dear, come here for a second” an abrasively cheery voice cut through the crowd from behind him. Dazai had to will his body not to visibly shudder at the thought of going to meet one of Mori’s acquaintances, knowing it just meant getting his cheeks pinched til it became red and having to smile through his disgust as the adults gushed about how adorable and perfect for their daughter he is, yuck. Forcing on a fake smile, he made his way through the crowd to Mori and co.
“Yes? What did you need me for, Mori?”
He mustered up his best virtuous boy act and tried to make his expression as innocent and happy as he could possibly muster. Smiling a little too widely for comfort and willing his eyes to look like they held any semblance of life in them. His voice was sickeningly sweet, not that the adults ever found anything wrong with it. They only ever saw him as the picture of childhood innocence, one that they could conveniently watch from the comfort of their couch.
He didn't remember what they said to him, nor what he replied with, his eyes unconsciously gliding over to the redhead that piqued his interest earlier. The smaller boy was now being — unfortunately — dragged by his sister to the posters of cute boy actors and outlines of what to do when they were to enter the audition venue. The girl wasn’t gonna make the cut, it's clear for dazai to see. She’s too…expressive. Besides, her side bun as well as her clothes — a baseball jacket with jean shorts and an unsightly yellow shirt — were screaming “pick me, pick me!” It's sickening.
“Dazai sweetie, are you alright? What are those bandages for?!” The woman on his right tried to reach out and touch his bandaged neck, not aware or simply did not care about his boundaries. Her fingers barely grazed his bandages before he sidestepped to avoid them. The touch left his skin feeling itchy and dirty. He tried his best not to make a face.
“Sorry Auntie Martha, I just don’t like people getting too close cause they might ruin the mystery. These bandages were just a stylistic choice, it makes me look edgy and cool don’t you think?” He put on his best charismatic smile, feigning the look of an overeager kid. It was easier this way, having them underestimate him. It was easier to get away with things without raising suspicion. Besides, the things they say when they think he doesn’t understand, it's most amusing.
“Oh sweetheart, you're so adorable, if only I could have you as my future son-in-law. You know my daughter is very very sweet, kind and has the face of an angel. Would you like to meet her some time? Imagine having such a nice girl to spend the rest of your life with. Your children would be most beautiful. Not to mention, kind, charming and extremely well off.” Dazai could practically see the green glow of her eyes.
“Thank you Auntie Martha, maybe someday when I have freetime in my schedule.” he offered the most sympathetic smile he could muster without heaving.
The conversation droned on and on about irrelevant stuff, and when Dazai was finally dismissed, he made a beeline straight for the little redhead only to collide with a silvered hair boy with an atrocious looking fur coat and pants that don’t match the colour scheme. The boy glanced down at him with a look of utter contempt, as if Dazai was a stubborn piece of gum stuck to his shoe. Okay rude…
“Hey watch where you’re-” he began before the loudspeaker crackled to life.
“Everyone here for the audition of ‘Love me instead of him’ please form a line in front of me.” Mori’s voice pierced through the crowd and chatter. “I will be getting your names and the roles you wish to audition for. I will then give you a room number and you will go to the corresponding room and wait patiently for them to call your name. Any questions? No? Good.” Without waiting for anyone’s questions, Mori stepped off the podium with a clipboard and a pen.
Everyone lined up, the soft hum of conversation rekindling as people whispered excitedly to friends, siblings and parents. Dazai was stuck in line, sandwiched between a pair of older kids who were talking to each other over his head. Shuffling backwards into the line behind him, a shrill voice snapped at him when he felt a shoe under his heel.
“Watch where you're going bastard!” the little redhead snarled at him, pointed an accusing finger an inch away from dazai’s nose. His face twisted humorously from calm to annoyed in a matter of seconds. It was like dazai stepped on his tail or something — which he technically did.
“Sorry, couldn’t see you little kid. Are you lost? Where’s your parents?” Dazai teased, his voice falsely sympathetic, laced with an aggravating amount of sarcasm.
“HAH?!” the shorter boy scowled. His angry face looked almost comical now, like a chihuahua, and it took all the years of grueling acting training for Dazai not to burst out laughing in the boy's face. The girl was also fuming, but it was nowhere as comical as the boy’s.
“Watch what you say to my brother! Who even are you anyway?” The girl’s voice was a mix of whining and spoiled brattiness that just bordered on insufferable. Dazai gasped dramatically, a hand on his chest and his eyes wide and unbelieving.
“You don’t recognize me? Me? ” he put a hand over his forehead and sighed with all the flair of a noble class Victorian child. All eyes were on them now as conversation dimmed.
“No?” The shorter boy raised an eyebrow, his hands in his pockets with an expression looking almost like a delinquent. “Should we know you?”
“You mean you don’t recognize, the Osamu Dazai?” a ripple of recognition reverberated through the now silent crowd. All eyes were on Dazai and the two shorter kids.
“That’s Dazai? I never thought i’d see him in person”
“The one who played Jasper in ‘The Plants Have Eyes’?”
“Didn’t he also star in ‘The Clockless House’ as Charlie?”
“He’s like a legend in the industry.”
“He’s so cute~”
“I want him so bad!”
A chorus of whispers surrounded them, Dazai was used to the attention. The two infront of him however, had their shoulders tensed, eyes darting around as if looking for a way out of this awkward situation. It amused Dazai more than he’d care to admit. He kept his eyes trained on the boy, sizing him up, (hoping)calculating the boy’s chances of being scouted.
Soon, it was his turn to get a number. But instead of telling Mori his name and who he wanted to audition for, he just walked right through like he always did. He already told the old man who he wanted to audition for. Mori already told him the room number and his likelihood of getting that role, so he wasn’t nervous in the slightest. As he made his way inside the venue, away from the crowd, he managed to catch the name of the little rookie’s, as well as his sister’s names. Nakahara Chuuya, and Nakahara Yuan… fascinating. Dazai couldn’t stop his sick sense of glee crawling up his spine upon learning this information, already planning the next interaction he’s gonna have with Chuuya.
Friday 2nd September, Chuuya, Inside the audition venue
“Patrick Frodini” The monotone voice called out from inside the audition room. Chuuya’s palms were slick with sweat, his leg bouncing up and down from nervousness. It was his first time auditioning for a role. He had meticulously planned everything he was going to say and how everything was going to go a week before and went over it countless times to make sure everything went according to plan. But with the arrival of Dazai Osamu, all his premade schedules just went out the window. That obnoxious asshole single-handedly ruined his chances of getting through this audition and securing a spot in the cast. Must be easy when you're a child star, scouted at an early age… It must be even easier to be born with talent like that, a face as handsome as he is annoying, and charisma capable of charming ladies and gentlemen twice his age. Chuuya gritted his teeth as he placed a hand over his face and groaned. It wasn’t like this was his only opportunity to get close to his dreams, so why is he so nervous? I mean what kid hasn’t imagined what it’s like to be famous? To be known even without his last name, because there was no other person like him. It's a childish dream, he knows that much. But what’s the point of floating through the endless abyss of life without a goal, aspiration or destination? That kind of life is just sad, to say the least.
From the corner of his eye he saw Yuan emerge from Room 3 where she was auditioning for the FL (Female Lead), Amber. Her gaze was downcast and he could’ve sworn he saw a glisten of wetness in her eyes. He hoped she was okay, but from her body language….
“Nakahara Chuuya!” The sharp voice from inside the room snapped him back to reality as all the kids in the waiting room watched him take his walk of shame into the audition space.
“I called your name three times, Mr Nakahara.” The disappointing look the proctor gave him was probably sharp enough to cut diamonds. Chuuya did his best to swallow his nerves as he waited for the signal to begin. His palms were getting more and more sweaty under the scrutiny of the proctors in front of him — 3 guys likely in their mid 40s, pushing 50s and 2 ladies of the same age range, only much more intimidating somehow. Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. But when the words ‘you may begin’ were spoken, it was as if a switch had been flicked. He closed his eyes, relaxing all the muscles in his body as he imagined himself reading the script as if he was the character, letting the words, the emotions, the mannerisms of the character he was portraying seep into his skin and run through his blood.
Opening his eyes, he was no longer in the audition room but within the scene itself. The predetermined script slipped out of his hands, fluttering down to the floor beside him. When he reopened his eyes, it was as if some invisible fire had been lit inside him. He let the character possess him and spoke as if they were one.
“Please Amber, you have to believe me when I say I never said any of those things about you” he channeled all the hurt and betrayed feelings he’d ever felt into those words, letting every letter bleed with heartache.
“I would never try to hurt you…” his eyes were glistening with tears as his hands held onto his shirt when accused of being a liar. “Please believe me, I would never lie to you!” he half shouted, but the sound died in his throat, instead coming out in a shuddering whisper.
The next thing he remembered, the scene was over. The world came back in a deafening whoosh, all the suppressed whispers from kids outside, the faint scribble of the pen on the proctors’ grading paper. He felt his palms grow moist again as he bent down to pick up the paper that had fallen to the ground beside him.
“Nakahara Chuuya was it?” One of the proctors looked him up and down, likely judging his punk-esque outfit and mixed race features, an uncommon combination of French and Japanese. Her face revealed absolutely nothing of her mood. Geez, you can at least tell me if I did well or not…
“Go to room 8.” She finally said, looking back down at her paper. Go where? Chuuya was about to ask her to explain why before he was cut off by her sharp voice calling out to the next auditionee. Before the next person entered, he caught the faintest twitch of the corner of her mouth before he was out the door.
Room 8. Room 8. Room 8. Room 8. He repeated to himself like a mantra, avoiding the whispers that surrounded him in the hallways. Walking past people who were yet to do their auditions, he tried his best not to make eye contact with anyone. He straightened his back and shook the nervousness out of his body. He was done with the audition now, he gave it his best shot and that's all that mattered. It was all in the hands of fate now, so there’s no point in being worried about the uncertainty of the future. Or at least that’s what he told himself.
Entering the room, he was met with a few candidates, one of which was the brown haired boy that was mocking him just a while ago. The obnoxious asshole that reeked of arrogance and privilege. What even was his name again? Osaba Daniel? It doesn’t fucking matter anyways.
“You! What are you doing here, Asshole?!” He made a beeline straight for the Chinese boy, pointing a finger at his chest. “The ‘better luck next time’ room is next door, Kid”
“You think I of all people wouldn’t get in?” Dazai scoffed, the smirk on his face barely concealing the sick sense of glee he felt at finding a new plaything that can bite back. He leaned closer to the other boy, his eyes roaming over his features with a look that can only be described as unsuppressed amusement.
“Shut up! You can’t come here flaunting your talent and expect us to bow at your feet!” chuuya snapped at him, scowling and not backing down from the obvious challenge.
“Aww, so you admit I'm talented?” Dazai taunted him with a puppy eye look of pure admiration. Only, it wasn’t sincere in the slightest. “I’m honored, truly~”
Before Chuuya could snap back with another retort, Dazai traced his fingers over the choker on Chuuya’s neck — a black leather belt like design with a buckle over his Adam's apple.
“宝贝, what’s this?” His voice was sugary sweet, like honey tea with lemon. Chuuya jumped back at the very moment he realised Dazai was reaching for his choker. The movement was so fast it looked like a cat’s reflexes possessed his body for a split second.
“Bao what? What does that even mean? Are you taunting me?!”
“I could never~. Not my fault you don’t know Chinese.” Dazai shrugged, as if he was describing something as simple as the weather. Instead of calming Chuuya down, it only made him more enraged.
“Listen here you despicable piece of shit-”
“Woah woah, watch your language. That's unsavoury for a work environment. And to your peers?! Whatever must we do to rid you of your foul temper?” The sarcasm and mockery dripped from every word he said, it was nauseating. But all Chuuya got was a rough elbow to the boy’s side before Mori himself came into the room with his ever friendly smile. He felt the air grow tense as from the corner of his eyes, everyone’s attention was suddenly drawn to the new addition to the room.
Chuuya felt the air grow 10 degrees colder when from his peripheral vision, he saw the usually playful Dazai glare daggers into the older man as if he single handedly killed his entire family. That’s not something Chuuya would ever hope was turned towards him, though he had a feeling Dazai’s reaction to Mori ran much deeper than he could possibly ever know.
Looking around, he counted a total of 20 kids placed into this room, out of the 179 that were gathered here to audition. That’s how many made it through?! There were 8 girls and 12 boys who supposedly made the cut — half of which he recognised form various shows previously. And now they were gathered here for who knows what reason.
“Please line up in front of me in two lines when I call your names, girls to the left and boys to the right.”
As Mori began to list out names, he glanced over at Dazai again, only to find him already staring at him. Chuuya barely managed to contain the startled yelp and jump to a minimum.
“Can you stop staring man… it's kinda weird..” he averted his eyes, glancing down to the bandages for a split second before looking away. He knew better than to ask. “He called your name, ya going to go?”
Dazai let out a small hum of thought before grabbing Chuuya's wrist and dragging him over merrily. Chuuya stumbled a little before catching himself and let Dazai drag him towards the line. Just out of pure curiosity, he claims to himself.
“Alright follow me everyone”
They were led towards another room, a larger one with piles of paper stacked up on the desks. There were a few pamphlets and a cup of water for each of them as they took a seat in the chairs provided.
“Everyone please take one of each hand outs and then we’ll let you know the procedure of how to know if you made the cut and the paths forward from there when we make the final decision.”
A slightly older boy raised his hand for a question “what if we don’t get a call? Did we not make it then?”
“Yes, that's correct. I'll explain the procedure to you all” Mori cleared his throat before continuing. “First within the pamphlets, you’ll see a set of instructions and follow up procedures for what to do when you receive a callback. And if you don’t, then we’re very sorry but better luck next time.”
So much for the inspirational speech… Chuuya couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease ripple through his body. His vision narrowed and his heart started beating like crazy out of the blue. What if I don’t make it? What if I don’t get a callback? What if-
He felt a harsh elbow to his side and hissed in pain. His head whipped towards the perpetrator only to be met with onyx black eyes looking in his. It was like staring into an abyss, like if he wasn’t careful, he’d fall into them and be lost forever.
The hand that slipped into his — soft skin covered with rough bandages — grounding him back into the moment. Those black eyes, looking at him as if they believed he was the most precious thing in the world. Chuuya averted his eyes and turned his face away to hide the pink crawling up to his ears.
“Bastard… let go of my hand already. I'm not a baby.” But he didn’t let go, instead, he held on just a fraction tighter. It's not like anyone would notice, right? Right?