“Hitomi, thank you so much! You have no idea!”

Ranko took her shoes back from the taller girl, blushing. Armed with a new reservoir of confidence after Yuji had supported her against Takao, she’d told the director she didn’t feel comfortable singing next to the open flames. Because they wanted the effect in the video, though, they’d decided to cut in a few close-up shots of the fire flickering around “her” legs, and Hitomi had volunteered to stand in for Ranko. Emi had offered, too, but her feet were too large for Ranko’s chunky heels.

Hitomi smiled warmly. “Please. After getting us out from under that jerkwad Tashima, there’s not much we wouldn’t do to help you out.”

Emi nodded emphatically. “We really can’t thank you enough, Ran-chan. I mean, you know how bad it was there.”

Ranko gave a broad grin. “I’m so glad I was able to get you girls out of there. I’ve been worried about you. I don’t know how much work I’ll have for you up front, but Yuji said the label can use you for other projects in between the stuff we do with the Dapper Dragons. Essentially, they just replaced Takao’s agency with the actual talent behind it.”

The now-barefoot Hitomi smirked. “I bet that felt good, telling that piece of shit off like that!”

Ranko smirked victoriously. “Yeah, gotta say. Didn’t suck. But anyway, to hell with that jerk. What have you girls been up to?”

“Not much,” Emi said with a groan. “They still hadn’t let us perform. We did one video shoot like this, and they cut all the shots of everything above my knees. What a waste of time.”

Hitomi poked Ranko in the ribs gently with her elbow, tittering shrilly. “How about you? The day you left, that Crash guy seemed pretty into you. Anything we should know about?”

Ranko blushed, remembering the morning Crash had come onto her. The day he kissed her. Thank goodness he’d given up on that dream. “Not with him, no. But I am with somebody.” She smiled, her face flushing.

“Tell us, tell us!” Emi bounced on the wooden crate she’d seated herself on. “Who is he? What’s he like? Does he have a brother?” Hitomi giggled with her roommate.

Ranko sat on the crate next to Emi, starting to buckle her shoes back on. Flushing further, she looked down at her lap, tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear to have an excuse to hide her face with her hand. She spoke quietly, ensuring none of the bustling production staff heard her. “She is amazing.”

Hitomi blushed. “She? This is getting better by the minute!”

Ranko nodded. “It’s been tough, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. We just got our own little place, a couple months ago. And since then, just been singin’, goin’ to school, workin’. You know how it is. Keep it between us though, ‘kay?”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Emi grinned, biting into the jelly donut she’d scored from the catering table. “Dude, I freaking love your song, too. Seriously! I can’t wait to hear your other stuff.”

Ranko blushed. “Our song. You girls are Dragons now, too! I’m glad you like it. Getting it out there was… a lot. Sorry to disappoint you, though; this is the only song we’ve got right now.”

“Actually, Ranko,” came a feminine voice in reply from behind her. “I was hoping to talk to you about that.”

Ranko swiveled on the crate and looked up into the eyes of Amaya Uyehara, the record executive who had negotiated her contract back at the Phoenix. She wore an orange blazer over a black silk blouse and black slacks.

The redhead swallowed hard. Something about this didn’t feel right. “Uh, sure thing, Miss Uyehara. What’s up?”

The woman in the orange blazer crossed her arms with a little smirk. “So, as you know, we’re trying to put together your album. We’re finding that kind of difficult to do with just the one song.”

Ranko nodded. “I know. I’m working on it. Jacob got you the dance remix, right? That could be pretty cool to add.”

“I agree,” the executive said, “but we’re really hoping for another new song soon so we can keep production going. Do you have anything ready?”

Ranko shook her head, sighing as she drooped her head. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Not yet.”

Amaya nodded. “I understand. In order to keep on pace for our deadlines, though, we’re going to need something soon. I can give you about another week, and then I really need something, even if it’s rough.”

Ranko gulped. “I… sure. You got it.” She faked a confident smile, waving as the woman stalked off, her stiletto heels sounding like a ticking clock on the concrete floor as she stalked away.

Emi put her arm around Ranko’s shoulder. “Hey, don’t sweat it! I’m sure you’ll come up with something. You’re pretty freakin’ awesome, ya know. I have confidence in you!”

Ranko nodded. “Yeah, well, that makes one of us, Emi.”

“She already did,” came a gravely male voice in response.

The redhead looked up as her friend approached, sighing and shaking her head. “Shin, no. We talked about this. I can’t.”

Hitomi put up her finger, a puzzled look on her face. “Um, I feel like I’m missing something?”

Ranko shook her head emphatically, a nervous giggle in her voice. “Nope! Nothing at all!”

Shinji sighed, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “She wrote another song, and it’s even better than Rise. Absolutely top-ten material. But it got her girlfriend’s panties in a bunch, so now she won’t sing it.”

“I gave her my word, Shinji. That means something to me. I’ve hurt Akane so much already. I can’t do that to her.” Ranko sighed, looking down at her hands. “I won’t risk my relationship with her. Not for anything. Not even this. I’m sorry.”

“Well,” her bassist said with a sigh, “I suggest you pull another hit out of your ass, then. It sounds like we’re about out of time.”

Ranko nodded softly. “I’ll figure it out. Somehow.”

Shinji nodded. “You’d better, and quick. Or we might not have a choice.”