Disclaimer: Digimon ended as a Sorato. This is a Taiora. I think it's safe to say that I don't own Digimon.
"Mimi, I don't know about this, I mean, I was doing just fine as an escort. I was getting paid big bucks to just go out on a date with lonely old guys. All my clothes stayed on and I didn't have to sleep with anyone!" I whisper-yelled into my phone. I was almost to the office of where I was supposed to be working for at least the next week, longer if my performance was good enough.
My best friend snorted from the other line. "Yeah Sora, you were doing great. What, barely making rent and eating instant ramen three meals a day, if you were lucky? I'm surprised that you're not as big as house just from water soaked up by all that sodium you've got in your diet right now, not to mention the lack of real nutrients. Now, I know you aren't happy about this but I really had to pull some strings to get you this gig. I had to promise them the use of my newest line of clothes for this shoot. My newest line! As in 'not even published yet,' and they're not going to be seen for very long, except for in a heap on the floor."
"Fine, fine. I know you put a lot of effort into this for me, and I'm going to do it for you. I'm in the waiting room now though. I'll call you when I'm done talking to Ito." I hung up my cell phone and shoved it in my breast pocket. My best friend, Tachikawa Mimi, had taken it upon herself to find her newly single, broke best friend a job. Unfortunately, said friend had never had a job and had absolutely no skills, except for looking sexy that is. As the former fiancée of Ishida Yamato, Japan's biggest rockstar, I hadn't had to work a day in my life. I was taken care of, that is until I walked in on Matt taking it up the ass from his band mate. I told him I was leaving him, so they slandered my name in the press just so I couldn't tell everyone that Matt and Akira were gay, and they were fuck buddies. It would ruin them, seeing as all the young girls fawned over the Teenage Wolves, or all the girls would want to see the two hot gay guys make out. Either way, it was not going to be good.
After that disaster, I moved in with my very rich, very successful best friend. She tried to get me a job in the fashion industry, but I couldn't cut it. After a while with no luck I finally got hired on at a local escort agency and moved out, but I was living from paycheck to paycheck and trying to pay for my college education at the same time. She couldn't take it and decided to help out again by getting me this job, as a porn star.
Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for the work and all, but still. I'm a glorified hooker. At least I know that everyone would be clean, unlike a real hooker. They STD tested us before the film and our contracts forbade us from having unprotected sex with anyone until the shoot was over. If we did and we got an STD and proceeded to give it to another member of the cast then we had to pay out the ass. Any money that they should be making that they can't because of the STD, up to six months and medical costs added up quickly, and that was for the curable ones.
I checked the time. The director should be out at any time to give me the script and introduce me to my film partner, who should actually have been here by now and in the waiting room with me, but was obviously late. With any luck he would still make it. It would be nice to meet the man I was going to be having sex with in a few days time before I actually had to.
"Takenouchi-san?" A man asked, coming out of the office in the back. He was dressed in a very professional looking black suit with a white shirt and powder blue tie. His black hair was neatly combed and cut short, no doubt for easy maintenance. He had an air about him that told me he was the boss, but also that he was laid back. I relaxed and stood up, smiling at the man.
"Please, just call me Sora," I said while sticking out my hand. He graciously accepted and gave me a strong handshake. "And you are?"
"I'm Ito Noa, but just call me Noa. I'm the director of this film and also the owner of this business. I wish I could introduce you to your partner, but it seem as though-"
"Hey Noa, sorry I'm late. Traffic."
I looked in the doorway behind me to see who I assumed was my partner. He was about six feet tall, one hundred seventy pounds and incredibly tan. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a blue t-shirt with a star on the front, complete with a blazer over top and sunglasses. He had a smirk on his face that looked arrogant to anyone who didn't know better, but something in the back of my mind told me that it was playful instead. Then I got to the hair. That familiar poof of brown that I had seen every day as a child.
"Taichi?" I said, slightly unsure of myself.
The man slowly pulled the sunglasses away from his face, revealing the chocolate eyes that I could remember so vividly.