The Sound’s Relativity

If something had taught me life at my tender age of 24, it was to understand people's perspectives, to decipher their words.

My job as a journalist forced me to see relativity as a part of every person 's reality. They did not fool around. They always thought how to say what needed to be said without telling more than they should.

Some nights I couldn’t sleep, thinking how it would have been if I had known how to enter Makoto's black, dark, forbidden zone of reality. If I had managed to understand his perspective, his relativity.

Reason was never reason, reality was never reality, and relativity is just a mask which hides the word “criticism” underneath. 

☻☻☻

Stupefied, I looked at the living room floor, knelt down and picked up the bra from the floor. After examining it, I nodded. 

It was 4 in the morning, there was only one explanation: my roommate had just violated rule number 22 stipulated in our tenant agreement.

"How did I end up like this?" I asked myself in a sigh.

For three weeks I had been living in my old apartment with the newly discovered star of the group Mystical Key, Miyazaki Kazuhiro, because, after two years of exploitation and existential and professional search, I had returned to the city that had broken my heart with the intention to continue with the life that love had stolen from me. Nonetheless, I didn't count on the existence of a new roommate and, despite the fact that at first we didn't quite fit in, we decided to live together with the condition of drafting a contract between tenants.

However, Miyazaki kept breaking the rules non stop. He left his clothes all over the floor, stole food from my shelf,  brought people over without my consent,  touched and moved my things and, of course,  brought girls with whom he had sex for hours and hours.

Yes, I had gone from crying over my unrequited love to yelling at some famous bratty jerk.

Unable to keep my anger back any longer, I got up from the floor, clutched the clothes in my hands tightly and ran towards Miyazaki's room. 

Furious, I kicked open the door and, seeing him asleep, curled up with a woman, I threw his underwear on the bed in which they were sleeping.

"Idiot, what have I told you thousands of times? You're a disaster, horrible, horrible, horrible, horrible, horrible!" I cried upset, and then, took a deep breath. "Die!" 

In light of hearing my sudden screams they both woke up. The girl, blushing, quickly covered herself with the blanket while Kazuhiro dodged the clothes I kept throwing until I ran out of underwear and caught within my reach; his phone, some sneakers, his pants, the remote control, and a jewelry box.

"22, no intcourse at home without notifying the other party!" I threw one of his toiletries bags trying to hit him in his stupid face, but in vain, "Is that so difficult to understand?!"

"There was no time, besides, what are you doing coming back at 4 in the morning?" He asked, scratching the back of his neck.

I gritted my teeth and clenched my hands into two fists, "don't you dare try to pretend that you care... Work is hard, you know?!"

“Kazuhiro, I…” the girl, giving an awkward smile, finally turned to Miyazaki, who, with an indifferent look sighed, took the bra from the bed and held it out to her.

The more I looked at him, the more I detested him.

☻☻☻

The next morning, I ran into the bathroom with my makeup bag to hide my dark circles since I only had half an hour to get to the office. Light makeup, subtle but elegant, combined with a simple updo, made me the best in terms of presentation.

I suddenly saw the bathroom door open in the reflection of the mirror while I was applying concealer. And there, Miyazaki, wearing a disheveled suit, with a loose tie, a half-buttoned shirt, and an unbuttoned waistcoat, raised his hand. I ignored him and went on with my makeup.

"No matter how much you try, nothing will take away years from you", I heard him say from behind, leaning against the door.

"You're a year older, don't think you have the right to comment on my age". 

"What about your looks?"

"Uhg... would you mind leaving me alone? I'm still angry, yesterday was the final straw!".  Irritated, I turned to him. Just remembering his satisfied face when he threw the girl out made me burn with anger. "It's already more than 10 times in almost a month, enough!"

"Am I to blame for you not sleeping with anyone? Envy will corrupt you, you know?"

He really is an idiot, does he really think that's the problem? I thought to myself.

Feeling uneasy I clenched my fists, "say what you want, but nothing will take away the fact that you're nothing more than a stuck-up brat".

Not serious nor naughty. At that moment the look in his eyes, the way the corners of his mouth curled up, even his carefree posture captured me. For the first time in three weeks I was able to see Miyazaki's gentle smile, the same one which greeted me on stage. 

"If you allow me to comment on your looks," he approached, "you look beautiful today" and his hand caressed one of my most rebellious hairs.

In spite of his sweet talk, I wasn't fooled. I knew he was just trying to flirt, treating me like one of his night friends. "Stop lying," I pushed his hand away and left the bathroom at a quick pace.

But, before the door closed I heard  him say "if there’s something I can’t stand it is lying". 

What kind of person I was supposed to think Miyazaki was? Driving me mad one moment and making me happy the next.

☻☻☻

The worst, he was clearly and simply the worst type of person that could ever exist in the world!

Sitting in front of my table was my editor-in-chief, Yamada Hiroshi, along with the vocalist, guitarist and star of the newly released rock group, Mystical Key, Miyazaki Kazuhiro.  

No, this can't be real... It can't be! It can't!  I gulped and squeezed one of the document's on my table. 

"This is Miyazaki, the leader and vocalist of MK and your next target for our section, “Meeting rock stars!” my chief put his hands together and looked at me with a serious face. "Kougami, this article will be based on intensive research in order to attain knowledge of the singer and group. Thus, I hope that in two weeks you'll provide us with a magnificent article that our readers will surely enjoy”. 

 "B-but Yamada," nervous, I smiled back at them, "Don't you think it would be better for another person specialized in music to treat Miyazaki? My experience is limited to actors and models, I'm not sure if I'll be suitable enough..."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Miyazaki's huge, mocking smirk.

  Yamada gave me a sympathetic glare and nodded, "we are aware of this, but he has insisted on wanting to work with you. Miyazaki greatly appreciates the effort you put into your work". 

I suppressed the instinct to shout and insult. 

Miyazaki, still with his vile and cruel expression, bowed, "please, Miss Kougami, take care of me".

"Su-sure..." I mumbled.

And just then, when my rage was at its limit, he stuck out his tongue.

I pressed my hands, my teeth, my feet against the ground.

 "Good morning! everyone!". But luckily all the anger disappeared as soon as she entered greeting, with her usual angelical expression: my friend, Megumi, magazine's layout designer and a great fan of… That. 

"That's…" as soon as she saw him, she ran over to my desk, "Mystical Key Miyazaki Kazuhiro!" she exclaimed. 

In the end there was no loophole, I had to endure it and stick to Miyazaki.