"Alright then, let's get this over with. . ." The sooner, the better.
---
Mao could never get used too it:
The dazzlingly lights, the roaring waves of colorful graffiti, the deafening cheers of rambunctious crowds, and in this extremely rare case:
Talk-show hosts.
Today, she is to be interviewed by some middle-aged woman, by the named Kanajo. Really, that's it. That's all the Angel of Love, otherwise known as Hiiragi Mao, was given this fateful morning.
Impatiently, Mao sunk into her chair.
This is awful.
Everything's awful.
How much longer till this stupid show begins, so she could leave already? This chair is highly uncomfortable and the dizzying lights are beginning to bind her. But thankfully, the lead cameraman begins his signature countdown. . .
1.
2.
3. . .
Its finally starting; if the show's cheesy theme is any indication. Soon, Kanajo, herself, begins her opening piece:
"Hello, Tenkawa!"
The crowd begins to roar jubilantly, "Today, this early morning we have a very, veery, veeery special guest!"
"The Angel of Love, herself, Mao-chan"
The Cameras, like a school of piranhas, begin circling their exposed prey: Mao.
"A rising Pop Idol heralding from our own lively and bustling city!" The audience was still howling, and clapping, and whistling, and cheering, and has yet taken dip in its energy.
"So," This Kanajo woman smiles.
"Mao-chan how are you doing this morning, I hear you are quite the early bird?"
Mao mentally frown.
She woke up an hour earlier for this shit; who in their right mind would wake up early? To hell with that. But contray to her feelings, Mao ended up brightly smiling.
"Its not quite like that, but I try to be."
"Oh, how Adult."
She shifts, "Mao-chan, you started off quite young in your musical career, right? At the age of Twelve, no less."
'Adult?'
'Is she playing coy?'
"Yes," Mao nodded, "My Mother is wonderful teacher."
"Indeed. Its unfortunate that she was taken away from this world; there's no doubting that she is proudly watching you from heaven."
Mao couldn't help but feel angry.
Why was she going on about her mother like she knows her personally?
"Mao-chan, has your mother's death ever affected your music?"
"No, I try to sing from a happy, cheerful place. I don't want others too feel bad. . ." What hell is up with these questions? Her nails were beginning to dig painfully into her chair.
"That's good to hear, from Tenkawa's number one idol!" Kanajo exclaimed before continuing her verbal onslaught. "Mao-chan, your Mother has left and enduring legacy in the musical world. Tenkawa, no, the world asks: Angel, can you not only live up to her legacy, but exceed it too?"
It was like a nail to the heart, but. . .
"I'll try."
Was the best Mao could offer.
---
Even through the show's finally over. . .
Everything became a blur, afterwards. But Mao felt a growing hot-icy rage, she wanted to hurt someone. The people responsible for scheduling this.
How dare they. . .
Mao began to make a quick text. . .
---
@Bladestar123
Somewhere in the loft, Tsukino heard the tell-tale buzzing of a cell phone.
It wasn't hers, through. . .
