Matryoshka

Gumi felt a twinge of flippant anger grasp onto her stomach, twisting it. A low growl gurgled at the bottom of her throat. She knew he was near finished with her. He was easy to read, if she could just push one of his buttons a little bit harder-- he'd explode. 

That became her new mission.

Gumi's 7th face took a grasp of her better self as fast and as hard as the devil would grasp onto a lost wanderer. Her slouched, bored figure had snapped upright like a rubber band. She was ready to fight this man, her rage blinded her. 

A loud sob fell from her throat albeit the fact the tried to choke it back. Before she could apologize, something vaguely familiar unfolded before her. Minatsuki changed into a completely different person-- Gumi felt like she had seen this before. But, she couldn't exactly figure out where. With a hoarse whisper, she asked "W-Wh-What are you d-doing?"

It didn’t take long to get to the music rooms, perhaps a minute or so, but when one was as hyped up as the two Vocaloids were, a single minute seemed more like a hour. Miku slipped her arm away from Gumi, to open the door and usher Gumi into the Music department. But as soon the door closed behind them both, Miku had skipped in front of Gumi and held the smaller Vocaloids hands, placing them over Megpoid’s eyes. 

“Don’t peak, ‘kay?” The blue-haired Vocaloid grinned as she then lead Gumi into her favorite music room, with a gentle hold on her shoulder’s as she steered her inside. Into Music room No.4! The largest, and definitely decorated the most glamorously out of all the music rooms. 

Gumi was about ready to soak in the view of the music room, but a wave of black oppressed her vision. Gumi startled, sucked in a short breath. A high pitched noise that somewhat resembled a muffled screech escaped from her throat. What a bizarre noise. The vocaloid laughed. 

“Don’t peak, ‘kay?” the green-haired girl nodded into her friends hands, chuckling as she did so. She couldn't hide her anticipation, even the tips of her fingers quavered at the thought of being reunited with music. 

Gumi hadn't sang, nor played any instrument-- for a lengthy amount of time. She wasn't sure what pulled them two apart. Gumi was stressed, sure. But usually nothing calmed her more then a few notes on the flute, or a quick hum. The young girl was flabbergasted by how foreign music was to her as this point-- such made her heart sink. 

"Kay~!" she replied, shaking the wave of thoughts off. Her heart was palpitating rapidly, almost hard enough so that the Americas found it tangible. It was a 5.8 on the Richter scale. As Gumi felt her friends small hands slip off her face, all power lost.

She almost passed out at the extravagance. Instruments lined the walls, decorations were tasteful and looked more expensive than Prada, herself. Glamour would be an understatement, beauty, decadence, fabulous, fantastic-- nothing could explain the loveliness of the room before Gumi.

"Ta-da, indeed..." 

There was a bizarre shift in Gumi's stature. Earlier, she had tried her hardest to keep her pride by standing upright. But, within a split second the confidence and stern that swam in her eyes was taken over by falter. Tears pooled in her eyes rapidly. In rivuletes the salty water fell from her emerald optics, and wet her pale complexion-- adding a sheen of beauty to her weakness. She crumpled to the ground. 

“Then don’t ever invade someone’s personal space like that” he told her. Gumi had a selective hearing, especially when her 6th face was put on. It was a package -- lethargy, non-attentiveness and on occasion-- she turned out just plain rude. "Uh.." she stated. "Come again?" and, to her misfortune, she decided to add something that might not bring her good luck in the near future-- "And, um... What exactly have I done wrong?"