After the party's over

There are some very reassuring sounds in the universe, a kitten softly purring is one and so is Pachelbel's Canon in D but the sound of ice swimming in Irish cream against the inside of my glass perhaps heads my list.
At least currently!
A few friends of Nanako's came up to the house where she introduced me over a couple of glasses of Madeira to some of her friends who are unsurprisingly also in the promotions and events business. She introduced me as a journalist rather than an occasional promotions person which may or may not have suited her purpose and may or may not have been the whole truth and may or may not have had a different effect on her listening entourage.
Before the afternoon grew into the evening, we'd showered and changed and the few of us made our way down the hill to the Hotel Takezono where Nanako had the function room ready for us complete with a delicious catered spread, a well stocked bar and a very little man in the far corner. Perhaps he was not so little but he seemed like it with him being dwarfed by his sound system from a star wars movie and his CD collection that imitated a wonder wall. I was impressed with the subdued and almost aphrodisiac lighting which almost hid the few guests that had made their way here directly.

We headed for the bar and once more I sought comfort with the sound of ice in my glass and something warm slipping down inside. As it turned out, I knew or more accurately I knew of four or five of the people there as I was introduced to them with a couple of writers for other glossies and a couple of models and a photographer of note. Since I had that comfort anchor of knowing a few people there I felt free of restricting my 'mingle' to wherever Nanako roamed.
I can imagine that "Who the hell was she?" conversations were struck up beyond my earshot every now and then since strangers candidly asked after Hitomi after a little conversation with me and what was she was doing these days. It was at one of those points later in the party where things seemed to get out of hand a little.
We were about three hours into the party and I was standing with Nanako and a group of young models and the topic of conversation was about a certain actress and I'd mentioned that when I had worked for my previous magazine I'd met her for an interview once. Of course I was at once assailed by questions of "What is she like?" and it's a question that probably everyone would ask when confronted by a person who claims to have actually met a famous (or in this instance, a semi famous) actress. I struggled for a moment and then either consciously decided to reply on a level of which I'd detected from conversations across all corners of the party or let the copious amounts of alcohol in my system do the talking, a response of sharp acid, haughty and detached wit. I replied that actresses seem to fall into either of two categories. The solipsist and the seducer! One speaks only of herself as if she alone is the very reason the universe came into existence and the other is in a constant state of disbelieving uncertainty and needs a regular and persistent verification from her attendants and retainers. Although this didn't exactly answer the question of what she was like and neither did I declare which category I'd placed her in, I drew nods of approval from those with some semblance of language skills and blank stares from the pretty faces. I can be such a bitch at times you know! Did I really need to try to fit into this crowd? Perhaps it was my own statement that prompted the direction of the conversation from there. Nanako mentioned that my 'girlfriend' was doing her best to move on from promotions and events and had ventured into the acting field and that she had had several fairly successful runs on stage. During that little note of 'Momo has a girlfriend', which I was quite happy about, one of the girls gave me a nod and a smile which was nice but the girl next to her asked if I'd ever heard of the casting couch in getting selected for roles.
Defensive posture adopted!

I of course laughed at her remark as did some of the others although I'm not certain now exactly how they perceived it to laugh about it. They were either dismissive, joking or knew it by experience?
"Sex is the currency of this game" she continued aware that she was the center of attention now.
"That's what we are all selling isn't it? I mean being a model is fine because we are just on a specific level an image, a pretty smile and a product, we sell the promise of sex. Models aspiring to be actresses however have to live up to that promise culpable as it is and the casting couch becomes more than just the cliche!" she continued.
I felt the eyes of two or three looking at me, almost boring into me and I just smiled and shrugged my shoulders and said that opinions can become clichéd too especially by those who never make to their first auditions never mind the couch. Some people know the reality of it and some listen to the empty gossip of the make up rooms. I left the little acid group no doubt to a few smirking faces and headed off for my refill.

Asami was her name and modeling was her game. It wouldn't really matter how I describe her because my adjectives would not do her justice suffice to say that she was very beautiful. The girl who nodded and smiled at me followed me over to the bar and was quite supportive really as we sat and drank a couple of long tall cool ones over sweet secluded conversation. Oh I could tell she was interested in that way and I don't know what it was about her but everything that was wrong seemed just right somehow and the conversation became openly tactile and her Campari flavored kisses let me know exactly where she stood and where she was prepared to lay. She was one of a couple of Nanako's friends who were staying over that night.
We were arm in arm as we walked up the steep hill back to Nanako's home no doubt fueling the gossip of some of the others.
How on Earth I slept alone is a mystery because of that hot desire flaring up inside me and she was there on the other side of the darkened room just waiting.
Only the Gods themselves know how much I wanted her but why I didn't was not really from my undying loyalty to my beloved and I would love to say that it was but the thing that ate away at the back of my mind was of being discovered and someone proving that the casting couch comes in many guises, a futon after the party being its favorite.
Thankfully I fell asleep pretty quickly and dreamed wicked dreams but still no calls or texts from where I needed them the most.

On Sunday morning I had a little surprise at breakfast which after the night before was much closer to lunch time. A little news that I'd been informed of over the last few weeks came to realization. I had been chosen from thousands (well perhaps twenty) to be the debut girl in the VIP Style magazine. It's like an exclusive for them doing a spread of models they think have potential to go on to bigger things and in the past they've been right maybe once or twice a year. After Nanako handed me a copy to look at I made sure that the bitter 'Miss Casting Couch' got an eyeful too although I don't know why such immature feelings within me were quenched with that move but they were. I tried to phone Hitomi again but still no answer.

I got back to Tokyo at about 7pm and picked up a few copies of VIP Style on my way home as souvenirs.
Hitomi hasn't been home all weekend and I was probably more angry than worried.
She's staying at her sister's for a while.

Japan went out to Paraguay on penalties last night.
Everyone played so very well and gave good accounts of themselves. Well done to Paraguay and good luck to you in your next game. Japan can come home with their heads held high.