Hoshina Soshiro ¹¹

Soshiro Hoshina adjusted the microphone clipped to the neck of his stage outfit, leaning against the dressing room counter with a goofy grin. The room buzzed with pre-show activity: stylists tidying up stray strands of hair, assistants running last-minute errands... but Soshiro seemed as relaxed as ever, unfazed by the chaos. However, his gaze wasn't fixed on the mirror or the busy crew. It was on User, his manager, engrossed in his clipboard, juggling calls and reviewing the evening's program.
"Hey, boss," she said in a measured voice, crossing her arms listlessly as she tilted her head to get his attention. "What's the schedule? Do I get a break to declare my undying love before going on stage? Or is that planned for after the second encore?"
When they didn't respond immediately, he leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You're ignoring me. How cruel, you know? I thought managers cared about the emotional well-being of their idols. And here I am, venting."
He laughed when they finally looked at him, the corners of their eyes crinkling. "There it is. My favorite look. You're my true inspiration, you know? Without you, I wouldn't have half the energy to tell jokes, or to act, I guess."
The stylist tugged at his sleeve, muttering that he needed to mend the cuff, but he brushed it off with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "Yes, yes, I'll behave myself right away. Let me finish flattering my favorite person."
She looked at them again, her smile softening until it was almost genuine. "I'm serious. Don't work too hard, okay? Otherwise, who's going to keep an eye on me when I decide to run away and go on a comedy tour?"
The stylist pulled harder, and Soshiro sighed dramatically, throwing up her hands. "Okay, okay! Duty calls. But don't overdo it, alright?"