|
Post by andrew jung oh on Aug 8, 2011 22:49:06 GMT -5
OJ's heart was stammering. It was racing, thundering at a mile a minute, and he didn't know why. Perhaps he was just anxious. Not like he had a reason to be nervous. This was Miss Junko, after all. She humored him with everything he asked.
But maybe that was precisely why he was nervous. She always just humored him. OJ was never quite sure she really liked him. They were an impossible match, after all. She was the sophisticated, street smart, and sassy star of her own show. She knew what she wanted and didn't mess with useless guys.
And OJ was just a kid with -admittedly- no experience with girls. Sure he could be friends with them, but beyond friends? He was swimming in uncharted waters. There was absolutely no reason for her to care about him. And yet...
And yet she'd agreed to OJ's little game. He'd left clues around the school for her. one in the library, one in the dining hall, one in the music hall, and one in the inner garden that led to here, the reading room. It was a risky maneuver, planning a meeting here. OJ knew a lot of students often retreated here for privacy. The door could lock, but who's to say someone wouldn't knock on the door and break the spell he'd worked so hard to create?
He fiddled with his silver ring and adjusted his cravat. It was trying to strangle him, he was sure of it. He'd gotten dressed up in his aristo best, but in hindsight, maybe he should have just gone for his normal Visual Kei style. It would have certainly been more comfortable.
|
|
|
Post by michelle junko princeton on Aug 8, 2011 23:03:38 GMT -5
Junko hesitated at the door of the reading room. Truth be told, she was a bit frustrated. It was early in the morning, too early to be awake. And yet, she'd been exploring the school for clues. At least the clues weren't anything too complicated. They were just short phrases scribbled onto yellow paper telling her exactly where to go. The challenge came in finding those clues. She'd searched every nook and cranny in the music hall, and even contemplated giving up, before she managed to find the yellow paper hidden too well underneath one of the music stands. With any luck, this would be the last stop. The reading room. Junko had never been in here before. She preferred to stay in her dancing hall or the teacher's lounge. But from what she'd overheard from her students, it was a cozy little place. She adjusted her hat [click me!] and her skirt, then pulled out her compact mirror to check her makeup. Her circle lenses were bright green today, and not a single eyelash was out of place. There wasn't a smudge to her rose lip stick, and her curls cascaded elegantly across her shoulders. Perfect. Everything was perfect. Slipping her compact mirror back into her bag, she lightly tapped the door with her knuckles before pushing it open.
|
|
|
Post by andrew jung oh on Aug 8, 2011 23:15:02 GMT -5
The door was opening. OJ nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise. He certainly did jump out of the easy chair he'd been sitting in as if it had burned him. "M-Miss Junko!" he greeted with a big, nervous smile. Gosh, she was pretty. It was an incredibly intentional and deliberate pretty, but pretty is pretty. And she was dressed so modestly today; normally Miss Junko preferred elaborate designs and loud, statement pieces. But today, she was dressed simply.
OJ rushed over to her side, took her hand, and led his dance teacher in. "Did you find all the clues?" he asked, mentally berating himself. If she hadn't found all the clues, she wouldn't be here, would she? No, nevermind, he had to recover. "I was beginning to think I'd hid them too well."
He sat her down at an easy chair before hurrying back to close the door. His hand hovered on the door knob for a moment before he locked it with a swift motion. No interruptions. But how he was going to explain what he was doing with his teacher behind locked doors, he wasn't so sure about. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.
"So, how was the show you were in?" OJ asked as he placed himself in the chair opposite Miss Junko. He produced two mugs and a thermos full of coffee out from under a nearby table, on top of which were containers of cream and sugar. Nothing too fancy- this was their first time seeing each other in a while, but he didn't want it to feel forced. He poured her a cup of coffee and, handing the mug to her, asked, "Did it go well?"
|
|
|
Post by michelle junko princeton on Aug 8, 2011 23:30:16 GMT -5
Junko couldn't help but gasp in surprise as she was hastily ushered into the reading room. OJ was babbling about something (she could hear the nerves in his voice, poor thing!). And then she was sitting, not entirely sure how she'd gotten there. There was the telltale click of a door locking, and Junko relaxed. Clandestine meetings behind locked doors were something she was familiar with.
The scent of coffee filled the air, seeping into her pores and preemptively warming her bones. Yes, she needed a good cup of coffee right now, when the sun had just barely made it past the horizon. She accepted the mug from OJ with a smile of appreciation.
"The show?" she asked as she fixed her cup (two cubes of sugar, and a lot of cream). "It was alright, I suppose." She brought the mug to her lips and took a long sip. It was hot, almost burning, but it comforted her. "The director was an ass, but that was to be expected- I don't think I've ever met a nice director in my life. They're all too caught up in their own self-importance to be nice."
She tossed her painstakingly curled hair over her shoulder, unaware of the irony in her words. "The rest of the company were friendly enough. But my partner for the pas de deux- ugh! He almost dropped me during our opening night. Not to mention all the times he nearly dropped me in rehearsal, too."
Junko paused and looked into her mug of coffee. This was nice. Coffee, chatting, good company... she'd been so busy with her show, she hadn't had a chance to really relax. It was just rehearsal after rehearsal after rehearsal. At least she got paid well for it, and she'd met a few big names that could lead to another show down the road. But right now, she was content to simply rest.
"What about you?" Junko asked. She sipped her coffee, then- "What have you been up to while I was gone?"
|
|
|
Post by andrew jung oh on Aug 8, 2011 23:38:02 GMT -5
OJ's chest swelled in anger when Miss Junko mentioned her dance partner, only to deflate happily when she complained about him. He didn't have a right to be jealous, though. He knew very well that Miss Junko didn't consider him as a boyfriend or anything. He was more of a flirt, a fun way to pass the time while she was teaching. And OJ was pretty much okay with that.
For the most part, at least. He hadn't quite made his mind up about it yet.
His sipped his own coffee (black, five cubes of sugar, and a pinch of nutmeg when no one was looking) and watched his teacher while she stared into her own mug. A small little smile was on her lips. Contentment. She was happy with this. A huge burden was lifted from his shoulders. This whole time, he'd been panicking. What if she'd wanted something more fancy? What if she was expecting love songs and sonnets and white doves? OJ wasn't any good at those types of things. Well, he could handle the doves, but everything else was too far out of his reach.
"Same old, same old," he replied to Miss Junko's question. "Classes. Drama. People come, people go. Nothing out of the ordinary." He paused, then, softly, "I missed our dance lessons."
|
|
|
Post by michelle junko princeton on Aug 8, 2011 23:53:27 GMT -5
Junko smirked slyly. Missed the dance lessons, did he? I bet that's not all he missed, she thought. She put the coffee mug on the table and stood to her feet. "Come on, we'll have a quick character lesson right now," she said, practically bubbling with enthusiasm. She grabbed his open hand and pulled him to his feet.
"The show was Carmen- are you familiar with it? It's based on an opera, based in Spain, so there were a lot of Latin elements that we incorporated into the choreography. Try some with me!"
She hastened to unfasten her knee high boots, then kicked them off eagerly. Once her feet were free of their suede prison, she took a step back from OJ and assumed her position. Left foot flat, in second. Right foot raised, as if she were wearing her pointe shoes. Hands on hips, neck elongated, saucy smile on her lips.
"I am Carmen, the feisty gypsy. You are Don Jose, the young, naive officer who can't resist Carmen's charms. Now you have to arrest me."
She raised an eyebrow, daring him to try it.
|
|
|
Post by andrew jung oh on Aug 9, 2011 0:02:52 GMT -5
Yanked from his comfortable recumbency, OJ barely managed to put his coffee down before it spilled all over the carpet. It was already bad enough that he was in here, behind locked doors, with his dance teacher- he didn't want to stain the carpet on top of that!
He listened to Miss Junko's explanation of the story with wide eyes. A feisty gypsy? A naive soldier? This all struck a little to close to home for him. And now he had to arrest her. Why would the soldier arrest the woman he was enamored with? Unsure of what he was supposed to do, OJ wiped his hands on his pants. Besides, he wouldn't want to arrest anyone. He was too good natured for that. Whatever Carmen's crimes were, there must have been a good reason for it. Couldn't he, this naive soldier, just let her off with a warning? A slap on the wrist? No dessert after supper?
Clearing his throat, OJ pulled himself to his full height. "Miss Jun- er, Carmen-," he corrected lamely. "I'm here to arrest you." He reached out and took her gently by the wrist.
|
|
|
Post by michelle junko princeton on Aug 9, 2011 0:13:47 GMT -5
Junko snapped her hand away from OJ with a quick and elegant roll of her wrist. She tossed her hair and threw her nose up in the air. The guise of a confident and haughty Spanish gypsy came naturally to her, considering it wasn't that far off from her normal personality. "Nonsense," she purred. "You'll have to do better than that, officer."
She brushed past OJ, stockinged feet moving lightly over the carpet. "From the looks of things, it's almost as if you don't want to really take me into custody." Her back to OJ, Junko picked up her coffee mug and stirred it once, twice, thrice. "I thought a man of your... character would have stronger convictions. Perhaps that isn't so true with you."
She took a sip of her coffee before looking over her shoulder to wink at him. Then she turned back around, and for all the world appeared to be the conniving gypsy, except for the soft, playful giggle that escaped from her mouth.
|
|
|
Post by andrew jung oh on Aug 9, 2011 0:25:21 GMT -5
Ah ha. OJ had finally caught on to what he was supposed to do. It was a game, that's all. He could do games. He was good at games. True, he wasn't very familiar with this type of game, but with a bit of practice, he'd be good at it, too.
Don Jose may have been stunned by Carmen's intimidating presence, but OJ had one advantage over him- he was fully aware of where Miss Junko was weak. And he could use that to his advantage.
He marched purposefully to Miss Junko, grabbed her waist, and spun her around. "I don't think you understood," he stated in a low voice. "You've been bad. You've broken the law, and I'm here to arrest you. One way or another, you're coming with me."
|
|
|
Post by michelle junko princeton on Aug 9, 2011 0:52:47 GMT -5
Junko squealed a little bit as OJ grabbed her by the waist. There. She knew he had it in him. He was a shy boy, unable to cope with a lot of things, but thankfully he was good at this. All he'd needed was a little prodding. She'd been gone for a while, but thankfully he hadn't completely forgotten the drill.
Still, she had a role to play. It was a character lesson, after all. His dancing would never improve if he didn't know how to embody a different character. She was doing this for his own good. She was his teacher, after all, and she wanted to see him succeed at all of his endeavors.
Junko lazily slid her arms around his neck. "You? Capture me? Ha! I'd like to see you try," she challenged.
|
|