Gene worked the closing shift on Thursday, eleven PM to six AM, restocking and mopping and listening to the sound of the refrigerators, caught three hours of sleep, and arrived at school looking, by Sora's assessment, like a person who had lost an argument with a bet.
"You look terrible," Sora said.
"Good morning to you, too," Gene said.
"I'm serious. You look like your face gave up, and your body hasn't been told yet."
Gene drank his canned coffee, the second one since the gate, which was a record even for him and opened his notebook.
He had a system.
The system was currently surviving on caffeine and stubbornness, which was not sustainable, but for now, help him function.
Eight hours until end of school, he thought.
Then two hours before the store shift.
That's enough time to sleep if I skip dinner. Again.'
He hadn't told his mother about the Seraphina arrangement.
She'd ask questions he didnt have clean answers to, and he didnt have the energy for that.
He'd just deposited the first payment installment into the shared account and left a sticky note saying: "Handled the October thing."
She'd left one back that said: "Thank you, Gene."
Three words that hit harder than most conversations.
He was at his locker after second period, reviewing the day's mental calendar, when someone grabbed his arm from behind.
He quickly turned.
Miyu Hoshizaki was beaming at him with the focused joy of someone who had found exactly what they'd been looking for.
She was bright the way certain people just were, not performed, not turned on for an audience, just genuinely lit from somewhere inside.
She had two loose braids, a tiny star sticker on her cheekbone, and she was holding his flyer with both hands.
Second floor bathroom stall, he thought.
Good placement.
"You're Gene, right?" she said, already knew, and just confirming.
"Last I checked," he said.
"I need to hire you." She looked left, then right, then leaned in and lowered her voice to what she believed was a whisper but was audible to approximately four people in his immediate radius.
"Okay so. I'm a trainee. At Pulse Entertainment, an idol agency. I have a fan. Well, several, but one specific one who found out what school I go to and has been showing up near the gate after school. It's getting uncomfortable and my agency can't do much because technically he hasn't done anything
illegal yet, and also-" she paused, appeared to remember breathing was required, and continued, "-also my agency told me that if I had a boyfriend, it would probably make him back off, because fan attachment psychology, and long story short, can you be my fake boyfriend? I'll pay you."
Gene looked at her.
Did she rehearse that, he thought, or does she just naturally speak at that speed?
"How'd you find my flyer?" he asked.
"Bathroom stall, second floor." She grinned.
"Honestly, very good placement. I was in there, stress-eating a cereal bar."
He considered the situation carefully.
He'd signed a contract with Seraphina two days ago that included an exclusivity clause, specifically about romantic or relationship-based engagements of a professional nature.
He'd written that clause himself and been careful about the language.
Romantic or relationship-based engagements, he thought slowly.
Which, technically, only describes arrangements of a directly identical nature unless more specifically defined in the contract, which it wasnt.
I wrote it quickly, which was a mistake in retrospect.
But also, pragmatically speaking, also fine if I define the scope carefully going forward.
He was rationalising.
He was aware he was rationalizing but did it anyway.
"What would this arrangement actually look like?" he asked.
"Mostly just being seen near me after school. Walking me out a few times and maybe some brief public moments. Low commitment for you."
"We'd need a written agreement," he said. She blinked.
"You really like contracts, huh?"
"They protect both of us," he said.
"You really mean that, don't you. You're not just being formal but actually believe documentation is, like, important."
"Miyu," he said.
"Yes. I believe documentation is important."
She looked at him for one more second.
Then: "Okay. You're kind of fascinating, actually."
She pulled out her phone.
"Can I have your number? To sort out the contract thing?"
He gave it to her.
Walking to his next class, Gene did the math.
One existing client: Seraphina.
One incoming client: Miyu.
Both at the same school and needing visible presence, with different schedules and different needs.
He opened a fresh page in his notebook and wrote at the top:
SCHEDULE MANAGEMENT.
Below that, he wrote the days of the week and looked at them.
This is fine, he thought.
This is completely manageable.
I've managed harder things than a calendar.
He stared at the calendar.
I haven't actually managed harder things than a calendar, he admitted to himself.
But I'm pretty sure I can manage this one.
He started filling it in.
Monday: Seraphina, library study sessions, visible but low-key.
Tuesday: Miyu, after-school walkout, east gate.
He left Wednesday through Friday blank for now but had a feeling they were going to fill themselves in.