#second pressy

The first time Aki had met Airi Takahashi, it hadn’t been in person.

He had been playing a few songs live in his friend Alex’s radio programme, in which he had created this character named Vessel. Vessel spoke to his listeners, shared opinions about music, movies, books and any other type of media. He also gossiped about things that went on in the campus, and answered calls – but that was secondary, because it wasn’t as if there were too many people awake at the tempestuous hours he retransmitted.

Except for a particular girl, who called almost every night. Cassiopeia García.

Aki knew her. Not personally, he hadn’t had the pleasure, but Alex wouldn’t shut up about her. They were friends, apparently. Maybe even something else, but Aki hadn’t pried and Alex hadn’t shared. The only thing the long-haired man knew was that Cass wasn’t aware that Vessel and Alex were the same person and that the young girl hated the podcast with a burning passion… or so she pretended. Because to Aki, and probably to the other five listeners of the programme, it seemed quite the opposite.

Cass would call, Vessel and her would banter – flirt, they were flirting, clearly – and then she’d hang up whenever she got bored. Now, she was talking after Aki had played his music, a rendition of a few classics (or so he considered them) that he enjoyed.

He was pressing his lips together to avoid laughing. It was at a moment of silence that he heard a voice in the background, someone who was pressing the Spanish woman to “say something about the awful cover that the other man had done”.

‘Oh, yeah,’ Cass said. Giggling in the background. ‘Airi wants me to say that your friend, this Aki guy, ruined her favorite song. You can’t add a trumpet to Arctic Monkeys. You just can’t.’

‘First of all, it’s not a trumpet.’ Alex had opened his mouth to answer, but Aki was quicker. Both his hands were now on the table, and he was using them to lift himself off his chair, his lips closer now to the microphone, so that whoever was that Airi girl could hear him clearly. ‘It’s a saxophone. And you can, because I just did. If she thinks she can do it better, she’s free to try her luck.’

The conversation could have gone on for hours. But it didn’t, because Cass yawned at one moment, exclaimed “hey, you are still using my phone!” and made Airi, who had probably snatched the device out of the other girl’s hand when things had gotten heated, hang up.

Aki had waited for a few minutes. Even an entire hour. Because as much as he hated to admit it, he had been secretly enjoying the conversation; Airi knew a lot about music. She had a beautiful voice, made great points, and definitely was a nice person to have an argument with.

But she hadn’t called back.

And that would have been fine by Aki, really, if it wasn’t because this need to hear her again, to know more about her, had installed in him and made a home out of the pit of his stomach, which was the part of his body that twisted and turned whenever he conjured up her name.

Airi.

The second time they had met each other, had been during band practice. Their drummer had a massive hangover and therefore hadn’t been able to join, which was the reason why Aki had taken his place. It had taken him a while to get used to the drums. He used to play them when he was younger, but soon everyone had decided he would be better off as a singer; his voice was melodious, strong, powerful, and he definitely had the charisma and sex appeal necessary to make it work.

They had been about to finish their set when they heard a person knocking furiously in the room of the building they had been using, in the lowest floor of the student residence hall, where Aki and the others lived.

The person behind was angry.

For a second, they joked about who it could be. Some massive, two meters tall football players? Well, goodbye to their beautiful faces for a week or two, if that was the case. Maybe someone who wanted to join as a spectator? Nah, they wouldn’t be that violent if that was the case.

Well, there was only one way to know.

Aki, as the singer and the unofficial leader, opened the door partially.

And behind it, was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He wasn’t sure if he had ever laid eyes on her, but he decided no, it couldn’t be. He would remember. He would remember those slanted eyes, he would remember that soft skin, those full lips…

And the way she told them, angrily, if they were going to shut up soon or what, because her flat was apparently right on top of their practice room and she had an important test the next day.

Aki’s first impulse was to bow. To make a reverence, like a Victorian vampire would, to grab her hand and kiss the back of it, and to profusely apologize for any offense caused.

Instead, he just stood there, gaping. He was usually good with words. More than good; he composed haunting lyrics, all of the original song Type A Positive (his band) played, were his and only his. But now, he was speechless, opening and closing his mouth like a fish in a bowl, looking at her with interrogative eyes.

Do you want to go on a date with me?

What’s your name?

You’re stunning.

I will do whatever it is that you want…

Those were just a few of the things he could have said. Instead, he simply blinked and nodded and closed the door on her face, realizing his mistake seconds after it had occurred. He didn’t usually swear, but a strained “Fuck!” formed in his throat, and got out of him through gritted teeth.

‘Who was it?’

‘I don’t know, this blonde girl…’

‘Ah, yeah, I thought I recognized the voice. Airi Takahashi, right? Tatsu’s sister? From Fashion?’

Aki did know Tatsu. Not much, the boy had been finishing university when they had started, but he had been the DJ at every party the long-haired singer had attended. And a really, really good one, too.

But that was not what made his entrails move painfully. It was her name. Airi.

Aki was certain it was her. The girl who had complained about him ruining Arctic Monkeys for her. A person who had been on his mind months after merely hearing her voice. Not many people had that name, reminiscent of love and of jasmine.

What if he went out, now? Would her scent linger? Would her smell be like that of the flower? Rich, sweet, sensual, tenacious, musky? Wild?

Aki didn’t know. And he probably wouldn’t have the chance to find out; the girl seemed to hate his guts. But pure, unadulterated hatred was just a step away from love and the line between worlds could be easily crossed…

Or so he hoped.