Richardis hurried after Ayame through a labyrinth of byroads. They passed endless rows of illuminated advertisements, which Richardis couldn’t decipher fast enough. The thought struck her, that these colorful blinking signs were the only thing keeping darkness at bay. Tired, as she was, Richardis felt the amount of artificial light was too much. Wasn’t it unnatural to be awake and running around at this hour? Ayame was striding fast and Richardis struggled to keep up in her heels.

“Onee-chan,” she said, slightly out of breath. Ayame turned her head, but did not slow her pace. “What?” “Do you always walk this far? This late and alone?” asked Richadis. “No,” replied Ayame, “I never go to work alone. I always meet 2 of my co-workers back at the station and we walk together. Generally these streets are safe – see, in the adjacent busier streets there is always lots of people at this hour and nothing’s ever happened to anyone I know. But I’m still rather safe, than sorry.” Richardis nodded, absorbing the information. Looking around they were passed here and there by other people, among them women by themselves.

“We are almost there!” said Ayame, pointing ahead. “See that building on the left. That’s the ‘Hi no Tori’¹!” Richardis looked to where Ayame was pointing and saw a five story building, with huge illuminated red letters at its front, showing the Kanji for ‘Hi no Tori’. “Firebird,” Richardis murmured in English. “Phoenix.” said Ayame.

Phoenix. Phoenix. Phoenix. The word was everywhere. White on red. Red on white. On the stairs leading to the entrance door, on the entrance door, on the walls in the entrance hall and all over the floor. Richardis wondered why any decorator would rely this heavily on using symbols, when the word in question lend itself so much to visual representation. Then again: The overwhelming presence of the word made sure it was burned into the visitor’s memory. Ayame, still ahead of Richardis, was already at the end of the entrance hall, which was entirely empty and pressed the up-button next to the golden-door elevator.

Richardis was reminded of the Harry Potter series, in which main-character Harry needed a password to enter the self-revolving magical staircase that led to Professor Dumbledore’s office. “Way to go, adult me,” she thought, “All focused and living in the moment. Weird random thoughts are not your thing at all any longer.”

The elevator doors opened with a “pling” and Ayame waved Richardis to follow her inside. “So,” said Ayame, while the elevator doors closed and it started moving upwards. “Remember, we are just guests here tonight. In order to become a good hostess, you need to understand the customer’s perspective and observe how pros do it – at least once – before you start yourself.” Richardis nodded, her heart pounding. She felt as though she was going to have to perform something herself tonight, even though she was just here as an observer. If the hostess really was an offshoot of the Geisha, she would have high expectations to live up to.

“Irasshaimase²!” shouted a smiling receptionist, as Ayame and Richardis stepped out of the elevator.

“Toyo-chan! Good evening!” called Ayame, equally enthusiastically, striding towards the reception. “This is my former host sister and good friend Rie-chan,” she introduced Richardis, “This is Toyo-chan, our receptionist.” “It’s nice to meet you!” said Richardis, bowing low. Toyo-chan laughed, bowed as well and said: “You don’t have to bow so low. Any friend of Ayame’s is my friend also!”

Richardis felt slightly irritated at this. She had met friends and acquaintances of Ayame’s before, but no first meeting had been this easy-going. Was everything in the hosting-world this relaxed?

“This place looks very nice,” said Richardis. “I’m grateful for being allowed to visit it.” Again, why was she speaking so formally? “Thank you for visiting!” said Toyo-chan, her smile so bright, that the corners of Richardis’s mouth felt forced upwards. “At ‘Hi no Tori’ we have tried to recreate the atmosphere of an Italian coastal town in a beautiful warm summer. You’ll see - not many places in Roppongi³ have concepts this elaborated.”

And true – the interior design was beautiful and detailed: The walls had the color of sand, plants and mini-palm-trees decorated every corner, the temperature was set to cozy warm and down the corridor Richardis could peek at a larger room, with dark-wooden furniture, white tablecloth and heavy red drapes from where a soft instrumental tune was sounding.

Richardis took off her jacket, Ayame did the same and Toyo-chan took them and gestured down the corridor. Entering what looked like a large dining hall, with stairs leading up to balconies above.

Ayame and Richardis were again greeted, this time by two women, whose dyed hair and heavy make-up gave them away as hostesses. Ayame stopped to introduce Richardis to the women, whose names sounded strangely European. “Hostesses are part-actresses. We have stage names!” explained one of hostess, who had long curly blond coloured hair and called herself ‘Belle’. “To make the atmosphere more authentic, we at ‘Hi no Tori’ have European names,” said the other called ‘Maria’.

“What do you call yourself, Ayame-chan?” asked Richardis, when Belle and Maria had assigned them a seat in one of the private balconies overlooking the dining hall. “Oh, I haven’t told you yet,” exclaimed Ayame. “Here they call me… Esmeralda.” Richardis laughed. “Nice choice!” she said, “But don’t customers have trouble pronouncing that?” “Oh, yeah. They do. But I stick with it. Look here.” Ayame pulled something out of her pocket. “This is my business card. You are going to need one, too.”

Richardis took the business card from Ayame and inspected it closely. On one side was Ayame’s cellphone number. On the other, imprinted in golden baroque letters was ‘Esmeralda’. In the background was a beautiful high-quality photo of Ayame, with a huge gorgeous flower in her long black hair and a seductive smile on her lips. Richardis gulped. If she hadn’t known better… she would have assumed this business card was advertising a different kind of business. And she herself was going to need a similar card…

“I actually did the design and photos for the business cards of all the girls here,” said Ayame smiling. “Getting them printed is cheap, but a professional photographer would have been really expensive. So I offered my amateur photographing services to the club”. “Amateur? These look amazing!” exclaimed Richardis. “Will you help me with mine? I’ll pay you! This is beautiful!”

Richardis really did think the business card was beautiful. Ayame looked striking in the photo! Richardis told herself, that she would simply have to get used to the hostessing culture. Whatever associations it awoke in the western part of her mind – this was Japan and things had different meanings here than they had back in Europe.

“Of course I will!” said Ayame. “But first we will need to get you hired. And not to just any old place – remember! I want to know that you are in safe reliable hands.” Richardis nodded, again getting a feeling of excitement in her stomach. “Any moment now the first customers will start arriving!” said Ayame, looking over the balustrade down into the hall. And indeed: A group of 4 men had just entered, Belle and Maria greeting them enthusiastically and more hostesses swarming towards them, ushering the newly arrived guests towards seats.

“Now watch the hostesses!” said Ayame to Richardis. “See how they greet the guests? Not like strangers, where there would be some professional distance. No! They treat them, as though the customers were the men of the house, just arriving at home. As though they just returned from a long exhausting journey. And in some way they have: They have been working all day and now they are coming to talk, to drink, to enjoy themselves and to forget a little.”

Richardis let Ayame’s words sink in. She couldn’t help but picture all the wives of these guests, sitting home alone, while their husbands where out here talking to young women, as though they were intimate friends. “Ayame-chan.” “Yeah?” “The customers here. Are they usually married?” “Not necessarily. You see, the ‘Hi no Tori’ doesn’t charge that much per hour, so lots of younger customers come here. Young salary men and university students mainly. We get groups from smaller companies as well, but many are unmarried. Besides – there’s nothing wrong with talking to other women, as a married man, right?”

Ayame and Richardis were now both watching one of the guests and the hostess attending to him laughing over a joke the young man had just made. “Do you think I’d work here if the regular offered services included anything more than talking, pouring drinks and some light flirting?” Ayame asked Richardis, looking at her intently. Richardis held her gaze the best she could. Of course Ayame was the specialist. She had been doing this job for 2 years and Richardis had only read some articles online – in English, because the Japanese ones had turned out too advanced.

“Richi-chan…” said Ayame softly, the look in her eyes softening, too. “You have to trust me here. This job can be carried out clean and respectably. That’s what I have been doing, that’s what I help everyone else I know in this business do and that’s what you’ll be able to do as well. Of course, a hostess is a lot like a Geisha. An offer to some place a little outside reality, after a long stressful workday. You got millions of people looking for that momentary time-out – each and every day. This is what this service is. This is a hostess’s service to mankind.” Richardis smiled insecurely and Ayame returned her smile.

“I trust you, Onee-chan.” said Richardis.

“Kim-san! Long time no see! Welcome back to Japan!” said Junsu’s lawyer Toma-san and bowed. Junsu bowed in return and gave Toma-san a big smile. After all, the last time they had seen each other, she had won a law suit for him, Jaejoong and Yoochun to receive some payment for the future sales of their Japanese TVXQ singles. Toma-san was a small woman in her late 30s, but she was an impressive personality, who knew how to make herself heard in any situation and she had one of the sharpest minds that Junsu had come across.

Toma-san returned his smile and then gestured towards the door of the conference room Junsu had been waiting in front of. How odd it was to be back in the situation of a subordinate. He was once again going to be the employee of a company, larger and more powerful than himself and he had to make sure he was the first one to arrive. He doubted strongly that ‘Pearl Station’ would have reasons not to sign him and JYJ. They had no ties with SM Ent. and thus JYJ was a jackpot for them. Still – he had nowhere else to go. There was no offer from any other company of adequate size, thus the ‘Pearl Station’ representatives were more or less situated above him and custom required for him to play the role of the employee seeking to gain approval. He hadn’t been looking forward to this, but with Toma-san at his side he knew it couldn’t go very wrong.

Inside the conference room he was greeted by a group of ‘Pearl Station’ representatives and their president, a man in his 50s, who Junsu knew from telephone calls was Murata-san.

He bowed low to Murata-san and everyone in the room who looked his senior, noticing, that he was no longer the most junior person in the room. Every other contract he had ever signed – the faces on the other side had looked older. Now – nearing his 30s – there were people, who were part of his future-boss’s committee and younger than him.

Among the people, Murata-san introduced Junsu to, was a man in his mid-40s, who stood out with his mustache amongst all the clean-shaven men. He introduced himself as ‘Yamaa’ and Murata-san explained that this would be Junsu’s prospective manager. “I’m very much looking forward to working with you,” Junsu said to Yamaa-san – not sure, whether he truly meant that, because Yamaa-san had a dubious look about him. Then again, he had just met the man and was judging by his looks.

The introductory rounds were followed by exactly what Junsu had been expecting and dreading. Instead of getting down to business, Murata-san and himself had to drone on about each other’s accomplishments and business’s qualities. Toma-san had briefed Junsu on the details of Pearl Station, so that it was possible for him compliment Murata and his employees, without sounding entirely shallow, but he still felt annoyed. After what felt like at least an hour, Toma-san interrupted politely and mentioned how well the top-quality of the Pearl Station recordings studios would be compatible with the superb and established talent of JYJ. Murata-san agreed effusively.

“There is no doubt: We want to have JYJ under our roof. It’s a marriage made in heaven!” he exclaimed and when Toma-san and everyone else started laughing, Junsu joined in hesitantly. “Kim-san, I’m very serious!” said Murata-san and the laughter ebbed away. “We would love to have you working for our humble firm and would be honored to accept you and your bandmates.”

He had a definitive yes. Even a Japanese business man would not give a statement like that and mean something else. Junsu felt some triumph, but he suppressed it. He would not celebrate, before the contracts hadn’t been signed and recording started. There was still a lot to do until then – most urgently: He needed express his gratitude to Murata-san for at least 10 minutes.

Half an hour later Murata-san suggested a coffee-break and after everyone had voiced murmured consent, two employees with trays appeared out of nowhere and served drinks and snacks to everyone, starting with Murata-san and the most senior representatives. When the young woman who was serving drinks on Junsu’s side of the room, turned to ask what he required, her face turned bright red and she stammered, when she asked whether he wanted tea, coffee or water. Junsu smiled at her politely and asked for water, while Yamaa-san next to him turned his head towards them.

“This must happen all the time,” he surmised. Junsu thanked the employee for his water and turned to Yamaa: “Yes, it does.” Yamaa-san looked at him with interest and then chuckled. “You, yourself, turn red in these situations!” he laughed. Junsu felt his faced and with a nod confirmed Yamaa. He couldn’t help it. When people recognized him, started pointing at or came up to him - his faced started burning up. A celebrity for almost a decade and he had still been unable to truly get used to the attention.

“It must be hard on you. Being in public ,” said Yamaa-san full of sympathy. Junsu looked at him in slight surprise. He didn’t remember another time that a company employee had spoken to him like that. His previous managers had been friendly and encouraging, but they had always asked him to deal with the consequences of fame, without ever directly addressing his feelings or issues he might be having with coping with complications.

“I chose this path and stuck with it voluntarily,” said Junsu truthfully. “There are people, who have a much harder time in life. I’m doing alright.” “Alright,” said Yamaa-san, smiling slightly. “I’m personally very impressed with the philanthropy you have done in the past. We are of course aiming at making enough profit to let similar sums be of help to the less privileged in due course of our working together!”

Junsu found it slightly odd, how Yamaa-san, with his loosely done tie, his longer than normal hair and uncommon moustache, talked so sophisticatedly, professionally and friendly at the same time. He was slightly mad at himself, for having judged Yamaa-san so quickly and entirely on the basis of his appearance. He told himself to push all thoughts on his future manager’s appearance aside and concentrate solely on his words and deeds.

“I would like that very much,” said Junsu, returning Yamaa-san’s smile.

Another hour and a half later, Murata-san began expressing that it was getting late and they could start wrapping things up. No documents had been signed yet, as all the first conference had achieved was a rough outline of what the two parties were going to provide each other with. Toma-san and Junsu had both received large piles of documents, that they would have to go through, but it all looked worth the effort. Junsu hadn’t expected for things to go easier. He actually felt quite satisfied. Yamaa-san had proven an interesting and most likely competent fellow and Junsu would only have to meet with Murata-san maybe 2 or 3 more times, he estimated.

He was getting ready to say his good-byes for the days, when one of the middle-aged representatives turned to him and asked if he wanted to come with him and a few others for drinks in a near ikazaya⁴. It was common for business associates to go out for drinks after successful negotiations, but Junsu – who had been invited on such an occasion before – knew it often turned into nothing short of a booze-cruise. He didn’t drink on principle and he didn’t like communicating his reasons and he particularly disliked being surrounded by drunken businessmen he barely knew. Maybe he would have said ‘yes’, if Yamaa-san would have come, but when Junsu looked around, his going-to-be-manager had vanished.

He apologized lengthily and promised the representative he would come another time, strongly hoping that the next conference would be smaller scale and the same guy would not be around to ask him. The man tried to insist on his invitation, but soon Murata-san came to Junsu’s rescue, petting the representative on the shoulder and saying he should ‘go easy on young Kim-san for today’.

Junsu and Toma-san thanked the numerous people around them and packed the piles of documents into their briefcase. The party dispersed itself and Junsu found himself with Toma-san on his way out the Pearl Station headquarters. “I think that went very well,” reflected Toma-san, while she was waiting for Junsu to put his sunglasses and scarf back on. “This is a lot of paperwork. But if you take care of the 1^st two sets until the next conference, I will be able to finish everything else by myself. Don’t hesitate to call me if you have any questions about those documents.”

Junsu had finished arranging his disguise and together they passed the automatic doors and found themselves in front of the recording company’s building. “One more thing though,” said Toma-san, her head turned away from Junsu, her eyes already searching the street for a taxi. “Unless you really can't, it would work in your favor to agree to post-conference invitations. You have decided to take JYJ business matters largely into your own hands and it’s advisable to carry them out till the end.”

“Thank you for your hard work,” replied Junsu, intent on not responding to her indirect request. “I will take care of my share of work. Do not worry about me.” “Very good,” said Toma-san, calling a taxi towards her. “See you at the next conference.”

^{1 火の鳥 - literally "Bird of fire", also translated as ... phoenix ;)}

^{2 "Welcome" in Japanese. Used by shop assitants (or host/hostesses) to welcome customers.}

^{3 Roppongi, city district of Tokyo.}

^{4 Ikazaya, a popular type of Japanese drinking establishments, also serves food}

I realized my timeline is a little messed up. For this and the last chapter, the events in Richardis’s life have been about 9 hours in the past of the events surrounding Junsu. I’m trying to fix it, so that the events will be ordered in the way that they happen. Sorry, if this caused any confusion. :D I’m clearly a fanfic noob :P Ask me if anything is confusing :D

I also realized how vaguely an idea I have of what celebrity life is like. Getting recognized all the time is an issue I'm sure - but the details of how celebrities sign contracts with record companies? I have no idea how that really goes down. O.O Just guessing here. As far as I know it's very common for Japanese bussinesmen to let their negotiations progress slowly. And I know from experience, that (NOT ALL but) a number of Japanese like beating around the bush, before they come to the point of conversations and what not. I still love the country. I think it's really messed up for a developed country (and yeah, other developed countries are, too), but I still love Japan. <3 <3 <3