When the plane touched down, Aaliyah felt as though she was still walking on air. Walking through the terminal while holding Fumi's hand, life seemed perfect for a brilliant, shining moment. Fumi had fought against sleep the whole way to stay up and talk to her about their lives, and they had plans to get together for brunch on Sunday. Apparently, that's how people did things in L.A.

Too happy to wonder about the speculative glances thrown their way by men and women alike as they strolled with Fumi's blindingly gorgeous group of coworkers, Aaliyah allowed her mind to hearken back over the plane ride to L.A.

She now knew that Fumi moved eight years ago because his dad was offered an opportunity to head up the Engineering division of his company in L.A. He was now a full partner of an Engineering firm in L.A. and sat on the Board of Directors for his old company. Fumi was in the middle of earning a Systems Engineering degree and, after spending his last summer under his dad's thumb, had stood up to him about not working there this year. He intended to work for a competing firm, for the government or for a company that had an engineering department. Anywhere but under his dad's watchful eye. A brilliant student, he did not foresee any difficulty in obtaining another position.

Mr. Kawaguchi didn't take the news of his defection too well. The son of immigrants, he had always been a pull yourself up by your bootstraps type of guy. It was a point of personal pride to be in a position to provide opportunities for his family, and to have his son working alongside him. He had blocked all other opportunities for internships and cut Fumi off financially. He refused to provide any spending money for the summer or for next school year. He would pay strictly for tuition, room and board, books, tutoring and any enrichment activities required for his son's major. If Fumi didn't want to work the internship he was on his own. In this way, Mr. Kawaguchi hoped to force his son to return to him, humble and ready to work. However, he had woefully underestimated Fumi's resolve.

When the first rejection letter arrived in his email inbox, Fumi was disappointed, but not disheartened. He had applied for a number of highly competitive positions, but had also been sure to apply to several "safe" opportunities, so that he would be guaranteed an offer. However, when the first rejection had appeared from his seemingly safe choices, he began to suspect foul play, and appealed to his suite mate, Jacob Calloway. Despite his easygoing demeanor, Jake was also earning his way through a Systems Engineering degree, with a combination of academic scholarships and jobs. Last year, he'd been discovered by the modeling agency they all worked for while visiting his ex-girlfriend on the set where she interned for a talent agent. Since that time, he'd been able to supplement his scholarship solely by working as a model. With his surfer good looks and devil may care smile, he had become a regular in magazine ad campaigns all over the country. Jacob got Fumi an interview, and the agent signed him with flattering haste. A client for an international ad campaign saw Fumi's pictures in the online gallery under Fresh Faces, requested him and the rest was history.

In the meantime, to Mr. Kawaguchi's horror, his eldest son's image began to appear in advertisements on buses and billboards throughout the city, usually draped in little more than a pair of jeans and adorned by a scantily clad woman. The strategy had backfired in the worst way possible, and Fumi found it uproariously funny that not only had he found a way escape Mr. Kawaguchi's rule by earning his own money, but that the image of his son leering into the camera all over town taunted him, not allowing him to forget the ignominy of his defeat for even a single day.

"Fumi, that is not nice!" Aaliyah had insisted, giggling helplessly at his flawless impression of Zoolander.

"No, but he has to learn," Fumi agreed, suddenly sober. "I love my dad, but I just don't know if I can ever work with him. He's incredibly demanding, and my mom swears that we're just alike."

"She's probably right," Aaliyah agreed. You always wanted your way when we chose games."

"Did not!" he denied in a whining, sing song voice.

"Did, too!" she insisted heatedly. "Name one time that you had tea with me, or played with my dolls."

"Come on! You loved playing kickball and baseball. Besides, didn't I let you knock me around at the dojo when you were learning?"

"Maybe," she conceded gracelessly, crossing her arms and poking out her lip in mock anger, "but you still need to be nice to your dad. He's only doing it because he loves you. I still remember how close you guys were when we were kids."

"Don't worry. By the end of this summer, he'll be begging for me to take an internship anywhere next year, as long as it doesn't involve wearing underwear or a bathing suit," Fumi agreed, smiling as he sat back into his seat. "By the way, how are you getting into the city?"

"I'm taking a cab," she replied with a shrug.

"We can do better than that. I'm sure the others will agree that you should ride with us," he insisted.

"Well...okay," Aaliyah agreed, all the while thinking that anything that prolonged her time with the surprisingly down-to-earth Fumi was okay with her.
Aaliyah came back to the present as the crowd thickened towards the exits. Fumi drew Aaliyah in closer, lest he lose her in the mayhem just as she tripped over the foot of a jostling passer by, forcing him to grab her by the waist and rescue her from a face plant to the floor.

Fumi's protective move ensured that the first thing Lucas saw as they emerged from the crowd was some strange pretty boy with his hands all over Liyah Baby. He'd gotten done at the studio earlier than expected, and came to the airport to surprise Aaliyah by meeting her plane. Now, with blood throbbing in his ears, Lucas started towards the scene of the crime. He only knew one thing: Somebody had better have a good explanation for this, or Pretty Boy was going down.

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