I Can Do It With A Broken Heart — Chapter 1: Lover

To the public eye, Misa Amane was having the time of her life. On stage with her sequined bodysuit reflecting the lights like they were stars, and the crowds chanting her name and screaming themselves hoarse. What more could Japan's favorite pop star want? Clearly, she was coping with the death of her boyfriend quite well, by drowning herself in work. Then why is L so determined to see for himself whether she is okay?

The lights were blinding as Misa stepped onto the stage dressed in a sequined bodysuit with matching knee-length boots with sky high heels. She had traded her usual grand entrance for this understated one not too long ago. Surprisingly people had enjoyed it even more when she quietly made her way to the front, gliding through the background dancers before finding her signature pose on the slight elevation at the centerstage. Her hand was held high, waving and blowing kisses to the audience, hip cocked onto one side, and a brilliant smile on her face. Her other hand, holding the similarly sequined microphone trembled slightly but she gripped it harder and took a deep breath. This was Misa-Misa, the country’s biggest pop star and she was always happy. ‘Konnichiwa!’ she exclaimed into the mic and waved even harder. The crowd went wild, and the flashing lights seemed to have quadrupled as people scrambled to take pictures of her. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for many, for tickets to a Misa-Misa concert were not cheap by any means. Where once her audience had consisted solely of girls in their late teens and early twenties, her popularity had now soared across people of all age groups. She supposed her recent albums about experiencing grief, anger, worthlessness, and about overcoming all of these had helped her to become more relatable than her previous ones where she merely sang catchy love songs with trance like beats and tunes. The acoustics were different too and most of her albums now had gentler piano or guitar riffs, many of which she played herself. Of course, her parents’ murder had been well-publicized and so had her strongly worded appeals for justice. The news had died down quickly though. People did not want to see their teen idols doing anything other than smiling happily at cameras in suggestive outfits. There had understandably been a dearth of albums in the following years when a grief-stricken Misa-Misa stuck to advertisements and photoshoots to earn her living. Of course, the public knew nothing about the months that followed, being suspected as the second Kira, the task force, Rem, her painful confinement, Ryuzaki, and Light, the love of her life, her soulmate who had died in her arms- her eyes stung from unshed tears as she swallowed down the lump in her throat, ready for the first song of the evening, this one from one of her earlier albums. The words escaped her almost mechanically now after months of rehearsals, her body moving to the choreography on its own accord. She pointed at the crowd intermittently and was rewarded with excited screams. Their boundless joy was infectious, and she found herself truly smiling for the first time in months. Strutting to the front of the stage in a confident catwalk for the bridge of the song, it was as if the last few months had never happened. This is where she belonged, sequins, lights, and the crowds screaming her name. The background dancers shared pleased looks at the sudden burst of energy she had seemingly embodied. They responded in equal enthusiasm, and the next two songs were performed in an unusually upbeat manner. The second song even received a standing ovation from the audience! Misa stood centerstage in her silver pink bodysuit, smile plastered on so wide it hurt her cheeks, waving both her hands at the crowd. The radiant smile never left her face even as she shed her glittery blazer for the next song, this one a slower love ballad. Her guitar was handed to her (did everything have to be sequined?) and she quickly strapped it on, strumming the first chord right on the beat it was meant to be. Heaving a sigh of relief that she had not missed the beat like she had repeatedly in her rehearsal, she settled into the rhythm of the song. The lyrics made her thoughts drift to Light again. Some days she struggled to remember what exactly had transpired in the weeks preceding his sudden demise. All she remembered was being at the Task Force Headquarters most of the time and trying to squeeze out some time alone with him as he and L worked tirelessly to catch Kira. She knew now what she had desperately tried to ignore back then. Light barely reciprocated any of the attention she showered on him. Some days she even wondered how exactly they had ended up together. Here too her memory drew a blank; she could not even remember when or how they had first met, just that he meant everything to her. Still lost in thought, she took off the guitar and handed it to the dancer holding out her hands. Her distraction proved heavy; the background dancer on her other side offered her his hand, and she grasped it just a second late without realizing that he had already moved onto the next step which required him to run forward with her hand in his. Her fingers slid out of his and before she knew it, she was falling, the ground rushing up at her. Her eyes closed and her arms stretched out, bracing for the impact but it never came. Instead, two strong arms encircled her when she was just about to hit the ground. Pain shot up her shoulders at being yanked so suddenly and this time she couldn’t stop the tears that escaped her. A sob worked its way up her throat, but she managed to shakily sing the next lyrics half a foot from the ground and take a few deep breaths. Though her fall had been broken roughly, the hands that pulled her up were exceedingly gentle. They briefly cupped her face, and she looked up to see who her savior was, probably one of her dancers. Her eyes met the all too familiar pair of black eyes with racoon like dark circles under them but before she knew it, he turned her towards the stage and when she turned around, he had already vanished. She blinked furiously, trying to get rid of the moisture that had started welling up in her eyes again. Was she actually going insane? How on earth was it possible for Ryuzaki to be at her performance? Not that she hadn’t tried to get in touch with him after things had gone south. All of her attempts ended up in a frustratingly similar manner, Watari promised that L would reach out to her and then a radio silence. She had thought of him as much as she did of Light, hoping against hope that he would be able to answer at least some of her questions about what had actually happened in the last few months. She knew he knew everything about it and somedays she hoped he cared enough to help her in this vulnerable time. Not that her hopes were unfounded. She had noticed the way he looked at her when nobody was paying attention. At first, she had brushed it off as just another man among the thousands who were enamored by Misa Misa the idol. However, there was a certain tenderness to his gaze that she had never been subjected to, even by Light. The same tenderness had made itself known tonight when he had righted her after almost crashing into the stage. If it was him that is, which she didn’t even feel certain about… It was only when the dancer next to her nudged her discreetly did she realize that the first set was over and she had spent the last few seconds frozen in front of the crowd with a bewildered expression on her face. The crowd was dutifully applauding; if they felt confused by her sudden pause, they showed no indication of it. Misa blinked a few times and then the smile was plastered on her face once more and she was Misa Misa again, Japan’s favorite pop star, the nation’s darling, and loved by everyone. She waved to the crowd furiously and bowed dramatically as the lights started fading out, indicating the end of the first set of songs. Unbeknownst to her, a lone figure was watching her every move from a discrete corner at the back of the stage. It had been foolhardy to come to the concert in the first place, and rushing onto the stage even more so. Watari had asked no questions when L asked him to deposit a large sum of money into one of the background dancer’s bank account in return for his absence on the entire tour. He had, however, raised a judgmental eyebrow when L had requested him to take him to the concert, after procuring the said dancer’s costume for him. He did as was asked of him without comment, for which L was grateful. Watari had told him about the calls. The relentlessness with which Misa had tried to reach out to him was surprising. He had never had the feeling that his presence had inspired any feelings except those of irritation and probably disgust in the model. Surely, he had been nothing but an obstacle preventing her from spending time with her beloved? He wasn’t so sure now. Losing Light had clearly shattered Misa’s world, as was evident from her body language tonight, but he hadn’t expected her to question the explanation that none but the Task Force knew to be false, that Light was murdered by Kira. By making her renounce the ownership of the second notebook, Rem had ensured that Misa’s most painful memories would never plague her again. It was his own fault really. He should have foreseen how unsettling it would have been for her to have so many gaps in her memory, that too about someone he was sure she had loved deeply. His teeth nibbled on his right thumb and his thoughts were a turmoil beneath the smooth exterior of his expressionless face. It would have been a sensible choice to fly back to London once the case had been wrapped up. But here he was instead, still debating whether he should respond to Misa’s frantic calls. He had thought she was coping well and had successfully drowned her sorrow in work. There had been two new albums that had received worldwide acclaim, her tour was clearly going well, and her performances seemed picture perfect on screen. She smiled, she waved, and she hit every note. He was still not sure why he had showed up here. Was it out of curiosity or concern? Or was it because he knew that nobody bothered to look beneath the surface, and see how broken she really was underneath her sequined smiles? Too late, he realized that the stage lights had faded and Misa was walking backstage, right where he was hidden in the shadows. Stealthily, he walked backwards without making a sound till he was up against the wall and holding his breath. He heaved a sigh of relief when she walked past him with nothing but a small frown when she glanced at where he was hidden. Her changing room was at the end of the corridor and her quiet sobs echoed in the dark as she finally gave in to her sorrow in the privacy of her quarters. Less than 5 minutes later, she was striding back to the stage in a dress with golden tassels and matching knee length boots, her face set in determination. Oh Misa, he thought sadly, how much grief are you actually carrying with you onto the stage every night?

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