It was back to school, although something had gone wrong with the schooling system. Classes were smaller and the ciriculum had completely changed. I was in some random class, doing some random project on siamese cats. I haven’t a clue why.

We had a transfer student. A new rising pop star. Also the guy who was re-covering T.M. Revolution’s Hot Limit. Not only were they putting it on DDR, but he was going on tour, and would soon be releasing a CD of original, and J-Pop stylized works. He was very excited, and also very pritty. Think Vlad from Camp, but taller, thinner, with more defined features and softer blonde hair. Everyone wanted to be friend with him because, well, he was going to be famous. But the group of friends he had chosen for himself were two girls no one hung out with. They lived in their own little world, drifting in between fantasy and reality. I had previously tried to be nice to them because we shared interests, but they had been too detached from reality to really notice me. But this guy put them in a place where they could interact with society.

I did my report on siamese cats. I alsed questions about why they were called siamese cats if Siam didn’t exist anymore. In fact, most of my report was made up of me asking weird questions. Somehow I got an A+

I was pritty friendly with the rockstar too. He was having some sort of concert, and he wanted me and one of the girls to play Hot Limit on DDR while he sang it. It was a special version, he said, that would follow his vocals as well as what was programed in the game. But the machines he presented us with were racing machines. We tried pushing buttons to see if that would do anything, but it didn’t. So he told his security guard to get us a new machine, and the three of us walked of stage. He got bombarded by his makeup crew cause he was just a tiny bit sweaty, so the girl and I went to a dirt hill to talk about what a wonderful person he was. And then these other kids came up behind us. These kids were big and stocky and wore the uniforms the student government in Utena wears. And somehow, in that instant, we knew that the kids weren’t normal, and they were trying to kill our friend.