Post by Wes on Jun 6, 2016 1:34:56 GMT -5
Words- Summary- | Tomiko Nakamura In all his life, Wes had never been to Japan. He was aware of how popular his music was, it was impossible to believe that not a single soul in an entire country didn't like his music. Still he'd never really played here. Thankfully for him, his fame seemed to only have spread widely in the U.S and Europe. Probably a language thing. He spoke english, primarily and He had a few years of French under his bealt from high school. Plenty of Latin in college, and a few bits of Italian he had picked up in life. Never Japanese though. It was perfect, of course. Perfect for him, anyway. Wesson was known to run off from his builder cage in the cushy U. S of A to roam idly until such time he was to be bothered to return, because unfortunately the world hadn't quite perfected the art of a mobile music studio. So here he was. Selling your soul to the music industry did come with a few choice perks, including a private jet. One quick flight later and the celebrity had his boots on the ground, halfway around the world with nothing on him besides his guitar, wallet, and a freshly downloaded Japanese to english translation app on his cell. The point of these excursions of course was to get away from home. From the emptiness of larger cities. People's shallowness, emptiness and their self centered natures. He planned to avoid Tokyo. As Japan's most popular city, not only was it the antithesis of what he was looking for by coming out here, but it was also more likely to lead to awkward interactions with fans he might have, when he couldn't speak their language... Then again if they were a fan they could at least understand english right? Hardly mattered. He hopped on the first train he could catch out of there. The crowded city streets practically bursting with people. He almost thought this was a bad idea, as the sheer overflow of people was worse here than it had been anywhere else. But then again, the idea was to avoid discovery. With all these people around? Surely he'd be just another face in a crowd. An admittedly handsome, foreign face. But what was that in a city of millions? Plus, the train let him off just outside one of the smaller cities. Okinawa, according to his gps. It looked... A lot like Boston did. Size wise. The thoughts of home made him bite his lip a little, spying a bus stop just a few yards away. Likely to cater to people who couldn't get a ride here, or to take people out from here to Okinawa proper. The musician would gradually make his way down the steps from the station and join the gathered few by the bus stop. A quick glance around and he identified who he could look forward to spending his first bus ride with. Among them was an elderly woman with a young boy, threw kids in what looked like school uniforms, and a woman with long orange hair, carrying literally armfulls of bags with her. Food from the looks of it. It Then occured to him that it... Didn't seem like anyone was offering to help? You would imagine someone might have the courtesy but no... Swallowing hard the american punched the words into his phone that he needed a translation for. Getting them, he did his best to not seem awkward as he approached her. I'm excused? Are you looking helpful?" He would say, sounding out each Japanese word awkwardly and incorrectly, not even remotely getting it right. Still he had no way of knowing if the girl spoke English. |
