Oscars

For the umpteenth time, Ryo surveyed his reflection on the full-length mirror before him. His stylists stood around looking at him, waiting for him to say something. The tailored tuxedo fit him like a second skin. The top half of his dark hair tied in a neat man bun at the back of his head while the rest brushed his shoulder. He looked fresh and gorgeous, like the true heartthrob that he is.

Only when Ryo gave his smile and nod of approval did his stylists release their breaths. They’re already pressed on time and could not afford a wardrobe, makeup, or hairstyle change.

As if on cue, Miyagi entered the room and signaled it’s time to leave. He turned around and walked out of his hotel room down to the parking where his team’s limousine waited. His eyes trained on the scenery outside the window. They’re on their way to the venue for the Academy Awards.

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