“A week? Two? I can have it back soon. Or I can buy it from you.”
“Oh, no. No need for all that. Just bring it back in a few weeks. Follow me.” She led him to a back storage room where the fashion line kept a lot of their set clothes and rows of styling equipment and makeup brushes. On one shelf stood a multitude of wigs. “Just pick one, they're not all styled. Need me to do that for you, too?”
“No, that's okay.” Reno took a moment before he pulled a wig, already styled with the long black hair in a ponytail and the fringe cut similarly to how Reno already had his done, down from the shelf. “This one okay?”
“Sure, here’s a wig cap and some pins too.”
“Thanks!” Reno took the bag she was holding out to him and put the wig into it alongside the other items. He slid his sunglasses back on, waved goodbye and darted out of the room and building, passing a confused-looking Arnaud on his way out. He saluted with two fingers, then slipped out the door and made his way to the bus stop, pulling his phone out in the process and dialing his mother.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hikaru, it is so late.” His mother sounded happy to hear from him, regardless.
“It is only eleven there, you are not so old,” Reno replied, and his mom scoffed. “I’m sorry, the shoot was long. I will send you photos if you want. I got Arata to wear a dress.”
“Foolish children. Is he going to call me soon?”
“Yes, yes. He promised he would play for you. He says he’s getting good, but he hasn’t played in front of me in a while. He’ll sing for you.”
“He has such a beautiful voice,” his mother sighed into the phone. “You would too if you stopped smoking.”
“I am,” Reno said, telling the truth. “I only have one or two a day now. I am almost quitting for good.”
“What? Really? About time!”
Reno smiled, leaning against the bus stop shelter. “It is about time. I’ve decided I want to live forever.”
“So silly. Are you Taoist now, too?”
“No," Reno laughed, “I’m a good Buddhist boy like you raised me, don't worry.”
“You were never good at meditating. Do not lie to me.”
“I never lie to you, Mom.” Reno watched a bus pull up and saw it wasn’t his, so he leaned back against the shelter again. “I’m just not the best at sitting still unless I am doing something with my hands. Music works well.”
She hummed over the line before changing the subject. “Arata said you are to play violin with your band.”
“Oh, he should zip his mouth. I was going to surprise you once it was done.”
“And give me a heart attack? I think not. Your song better be beautiful, none of that heavy stuff you like so much.”
“It is soft, don't worry.”
“Oh," she sounded pleased. “Good, good. I like that. That's not so usual for you, though.”
“No, but I don’t feel so usual," Reno admitted.
She asked, “Is this about that boy?”
“Yes.”
“You’re writing him a song?”
“Yes.”
“Hikaru?”
“Yes, Mom?” Reno adjusted the bag in his hand, feeling a bit nervous.
