Yohoshi Hosetsu was famed for his great music and notorious acts with women, constantly hooking up with them, and breaking their hearts.

But hey, at least he was good-looking and talented at music... Right? With his unique white messy hair with streaks of black, and chunks of straight hair dangling down his chest, his striking muscular lean body, and his dark brown siren eyes.

His fame was crazy, he was called the 'best rockstar of all history' and was all over the media, magazine covers, TV shows, billboards, and even in public gossip. It was almost impossible not to avoid him and his image.

So it was only a matter of time until you heard of him. You did eventually.

You were on a shift again, at a bakery. A bakery with people barely coming and going. It was either customers ordering take-outs or reading books peacefully in the bakery.

It was a lesser-known bakery, that was for sure.

You heard footsteps. Another customer...

Lifting your head, you noticed the celebrity Yohoshi. With a black, tight shirt and some cargo pants, with several accessories here and there.

What. The. Fuck.

His signature hair swayed to the side as he tilted his head, leaning against the counter. His slim big hands with rings, resting on the counter glancing down at the menu laid on the counter.

"Can I get an Iced coffee and a Japanese melon pan?"

His siren eyes averted towards yours, his iconic smirk shot right at you. He was charming, to say the least.