Hey guys This is a fic that I wanted to write after I was finished with another AU Ichiruki fic I am writing. But the latest chapter is giving me a really rough time so I decided to write this one out. Please let me know what you think.

PS – since I'm in the middle of a lot of fics, I won't be able to update as quick as I'd like. But, tell me if you want me to continue first :)

Disclaimer: Bleach characters and environment belong to Tite Kubo

Rated: M

Movie

Chapter 1

The Actor

Shihoin Yoruichi knew she had to get to Ichigo's apartment straight away. The phones had been ringing all morning in the offices of her agency. And as Kurosaki Ichigo's agent, she had a priority to find out if everything was alright with him; especially when reporters and journalists from every newspaper and magazine in the country wanted to know if the famous superstar actor is still alive.

Yoruichi cursed the traffic as she tried to manoeuvre her Audi A6 slowly through the traffic jam. She had called him a few times but could never quite get him to answer his phone. So, all she could do was leave a few voice messages enquiring about his whereabouts but he had not replied to any of them. However, she would occasionally catch photos of him in tabloids and magazines, thanks to the mass of paparazzi that dogged him wherever he went. That was until a week ago, and now no one could find him anywhere.

The paparazzi could not locate him, something they had never failed at before. Therefore, rumours started to swirl around as they always do around celebrities, many of which were too absurd to name. It wasn't long before the staff at her agency started receiving calls from fans demanding to know if he was alright. And this, in no time at all, culminated in the rumour that Kurosaki Ichigo was out there somewhere, dying or worse, in jail.

Yoruichi could not take it anymore. Ichigo was being as elusive as always. And she'd allowed it to some extent because he had been doing back-to-back movies for almost two years, all of which were massive hits, and he deserved some time off, to recollect. He'd been the talk of the town for a while now, because apart from being a great actor, he was also young and fantastically handsome. His "fangirls" had made an idol out of him while his fanbase doubled and tripled every time a new movie of his was released.

He was – The Rising Star.

So, for someone like that to disappear … Yoruichi had to find out. She had to be certain that he was quite alright and was in no danger what-so-ever.

She was going to his apartment, hoping and praying that he was there. It was a good place to start; because it is the last place you would expect to find him.

Ichigo may be a public figure but he was a very private person. Even some of his closest friends could never say they fully understand him. Part of his lure was that he always managed to keep his fans guessing. They could never figure out what he was thinking and neither could they figure out what kind of person he really was. As such, they made their own assumptions about him; most of which would have made him laugh had he heard them.

After nearly twenty minutes, Yoruichi pulled out of the traffic jam, and took the road which would lead her to Ichigo's penthouse.

She just hoped he was there.

Karakura Towers was a beautiful high-rise building on the outskirts of Karakura Town. It was a building that was built by the rich for the rich. The newest and quite possibly the richest person to live in the building was the actor, Kurosaki Ichigo. Even though he had paid an arm and a leg for the penthouse at the very top floor, he was barely home, as he was away most of the time, on location, filming. It was a shame really; his neighbours would have loved to keep him company, particularly the young, lonely housewives of the CEOs and industrialists. So far, they haven't gotten a glimpse of the man.

The doorman, an elderly, grey-haired man, smiled warmly as Yoruichi approached. He opened the door for her with a "Good morning, ma'am" and Yoruichi offered him a small smile in return. The interior was lavishly, yet tastefully decorated with a large crystal chandelier on the white ceiling, modern paintings and furniture, and a pristine white floor that shined like glass. She walked up to the receptionist, a green-haired girl called Kujo Nozomi, who stood up just as Yoruichi came to a stop before her.

The young girl was in awe of such a lady. Everyone knew who Shihoin Yoruichi was, of course, being the agent of one the most sought-after heroes in the movie business. She could be seen at almost every event Ichigo attended, standing by his side and giving an impression of a formidable boss. The thirty year old woman would make teenagers look bad with her dark skin, golden-yellow eyes, silky purple hair and a figure that most actresses would envy.

"Is he here?"

Yoruichi's voice was like ice as it underplayed the worry and distress she was actually feeling.

"Y-Yes, ma'am," answered the girl, still in awe of such a woman of power. Yoruichi just gave off an aura of femininity and intelligence that would make most men uncomfortable in her presence.

Yoruichi gave a sigh of relief and offered the young girl a genuine smile.

"Thank you," she said and made her way to the elevator in the far corner. A few seconds later, the car dinged open. She got in and pressed the exclusive "P" button for the penthouse suite. It came to a stop at the appropriate floor and she got out. The penthouse occupied the entire floor and the one above it.

Yoruichi walked up to the large white double doors and knocked.

She didn't need to; it was already open. Her gentle knock pushed the door open a little more. Also, a distant hum of music reached her ears. Was it coming from inside the apartment?

This worried her. Opening the door slowly, she peered in.

What she saw inside made her jaw drop down to the floor.

Pandemonium was one word Yoruichi thought that she'd never use. How often do you get to use such a word? There were no events in her life or any other's that she'd encountered that warranted the use of the word.

And yet, here she was, in the living room of her greatest find, the actor, Kurosaki Ichigo, and "pandemonium" was the first word that came into her mind as she gazed around her.

Actually, she didn't know how she could hear her own thoughts with the loud music blaring out of the music system, which was in the other side of the penthouse, in his "entertainment" room.

The living room, however, was littered in – there was no other word to describe it – garbage. The carpeted floor was barely visible beneath the pile of empty snack bags and candy wrappers, beer bottles, soda cans, and even bottles of wine and champagne. There were empty paper cups, juice bottles, coke cans, finger foods, unfinished food on paper plates, and they were all immersed in pink and white confetti and what looked like snow-in-a-can.

Crackers and chips crunched beneath her heels as she gingerly moved around the mess, not knowing in which direction she should be moving. The living room had a spectacular view of the city far below and the Karakura River through the wide windows. It was too bad that the inside was such a garbage dump. And it was starting to smell like one, so she covered her mouth with a tissue, taking short breaths every few seconds.

Screw this, Yoruichi thought. Fortunately, the couch alone seemed to have survived whatever had happened here, looking clean and untouched. She tossed her purse on it and straightened herself up. She came here to find Ichigo. He had to be here somewhere.

But first, the music, which was very nearly damaging her ear drums, had to be stopped. There was no use calling out for him over the ridiculous rap music screaming out of the system. She had to physically find him. She knew her way around the apartment as she'd been in here countless times, discussing scripts with him. But the mess was everywhere.

What the hell happened here, Ichigo? Yoruichi wondered as she walked into the narrow hallway that led to the entertainment room. There was even more of a mess here than there was in the living room. But it was not devoid of the one thing she was looking for: Ichigo.

One of Japan's most famous actors was lying on the leather couch in the "entertainment" room. He looked to be passed out but at this point, Yoruichi was just glad to see he was still breathing. Even though he was drooling into his expensive black leather couch, he managed to look like the movie star he really was. His bright orange hair was distinctly ruffled, as he lay on the couch on his stomach. One hand was cushioning his head while the other hand was dropping down, fingertips touching the shag carpet. His mouth was slightly open, his expression softer and calmer than she'd ever seen it while he was awake, his breathing even and peaceful. He was dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a black sweatshirt that looked like it hadn't been washed in a while.

How on earth can he sleep in this ruckus? She thought, as she pulled the plug of the ipod speakers out of the outlet. Pin-drop silence reigned; and it was heaven to Yoruichi. She let it sink in for a few seconds before approaching the slumbering star.

"Ichigo?" Yoruichi called, as she shook him gently.

He slept on without a care in the world.

She tried again, a little louder this time, "Ichigo?" The result was the same as before.

"Ichigo?" she almost yelled. No answer. Yoruichi was getting angry, and she was reminded of the amount of worry he had caused her, even if it was for a brief period.

"ICHIGO!" she yelled, her voice ringing in the silence. It worked.

Ichigo jerked awake, startled by the sudden sound. He tried to sit up but his position on the couch didn't allow it. He blinked a few times, and Yoruichi noticed his eyes were a little bloodshot, and watched as they focused on her.

"Yoruichi-san?" he said, in a raspy voice. "What're you doing here?" he asked.

The leather couch creaked and groaned as he sat up and stretched his arms. His face was tired and groggy, as was his voice and movements. He stifled a huge yawn as he placed his feet on the carpet not giving the slightest indication that he had just stepped on the wrapper of a Twix bar and an empty packet of "mnms".

Yoruichi decided not to berate him now. She just wanted to know what was happening to him at the moment.

"I came to check up on you," she said in a stern voice, folding her arms.

"You didn't have to come all the way here," he said, sagging back into the couch having found a comfortable sitting position. "You could've just called."

"If you picked up the phone once in a while, I'd do that," she said, getting rattled.

"Hmm," he said, looking almost ready to go back to sleep. "So, how's it going?" he asked.

His eyelids were already drooping. Yoruichi snapped.

"Ichigo!" she yelled. She saw him jerk back awake again.

"What?" he whined. He had a scowl on his face that everyone loved. The tabloids claimed it gave him a "mysterious" look. That look was back on his face again, only it didn't make him look mysterious, it only made him look angry.

Well, Yoruichi was equally angry.

"What the hell happened here?" she asked. She didn't try to control her voice or expression.

Yoruichi's eyebrows went up as she saw him take in the mess around him. It was almost like he was noticing the mess just now, when she'd mentioned it.

"That's nothing," he said, brushing it off nonchalantly.

Yoruichi kept staring at him until he gave her a proper answer. The silent treatment really worked sometimes.

"I called some friends over and we just had – "

"What? An orgy?" Yoruichi completed the sentence for him.

"A party," he said, stressing the last word. "Par-ty; it was a party, okay? There was no orgy."

"Look at this place," she said quite unnecessarily as the mess was all around them, "where have you been the last week? I've got people calling my offices asking if you had an accident and are hospitalised somewhere. You haven't been answering your phone and haven't returned any of my messages. And when I finally manage to see you, I walk into your apartment and see this – "she said, gesturing her hand to the litter on the floor.

"There were a lot of people," he said as though that answered everything.

Yoruichi was at her wit's end. "That's it," she said, raising her hands in defeat, "just – go take a shower. Shave and do whatever else it is that you do, and get cleaned up. I can't talk to you like this. Just go."

He complied. As much as Ichigo wanted to go back to sleep, he decided to heed the words of his agent. He did not want to piss her off, any time; it wasn't … wise. He moved slowly because he was starting to feel the effects of partying hard the previous night. Without a word, he moved past her and climbed up a handsome spiralling staircase which led up to his bedroom and bath.

Yoruichi stood staring after him.

A little over an hour later, Yoruichi was satisfied with what she saw. She just couldn't handle seeing the penthouse in such a state. So, she took off the jacket of the pantsuit she was wearing, and rolling up the sleeves of her white shirt, got all the cleaning products from a cabinet under the kitchen sink and started to clean the penthouse herself.

Yoruichi valued physical labour and had no qualms about getting on her hands and knees trying fish out the empty wrappers and packets from under the couches and furniture.

She piled all of it into large plastic bags and swept the crackers and other food items off the carpets and floors wearing gloves. Thankfully, the upper floor was undisturbed, as was the dining room and library.

After she was done, she could appreciate the true splendour of the apartment.

"Nice work," said Ichigo as he descended the staircase, looking at the now clean apartment. "But, Yoruichi-san, I already have a house-keeper. I didn't know agents did house-keeping too," he said, showing off a lighter mood. He even had a small smile on his lips.

Yoruichi smiled back. How could she not? Fresh and clean from a hot shower and a shave, he was more good-looking than ever. He looked – like a movie star. He was twenty-six years old, six feet tall and had more money than most men would make in a lifetime. And the best part about it was that he deserved his fame and fortune.

They moved into the kitchen. Ichigo, who was feeling hungry, decided to have breakfast. He opened a cabinet and took out a cylindrical tin of Pringles and a bottle of beer from the fridge.

"What's that?" Yoruichi asked.

"Breakfast," he said, stating the obvious.

"That is not your breakfast," she said, stating each word clearly.

End of discussion.

Ichigo left his "breakfast" on the kitchen counter and walked out. He was feeling refreshed after his hot shower, but the presence of his agent was killing his mood. He didn't know what the big deal was; the house-keeper would arrive in the afternoon to clean up and it wasn't like he'd partied so hard that the neighbours started to complain. In fact, the neighbours didn't even have the slightest clue that a party had been going on upstairs.

Jeez …

Ichigo felt like he was being "taken care of"; and he didn't like it. It is why he lived alone, so he could be a person on his own, without having to rely on others.

He walked back to the entertainment room which was decked with the standard LED TV, gaming consoles and ipod hooked into Bose speakers. He switched on the TV and flipped to some of his favourite channels. Nothing interested him there, and so he killed time by simply switching from one channel to the next.

Fifteen minutes had passed like that when Yoruichi walked in, holding a plate in each hand. She handed one to him and Ichigo looked down at a plate full of scrambled eggs, toast and some fried bacon. It all smelled delicious.

"Thanks," he said a little stiffly. His mouth was watering and he didn't want Yoruichi to notice because he was still annoyed at her.

But she did notice. She didn't give any sign that she did, however, and put a forkful of scrambled eggs into her mouth. She had worked herself up an appetite with her cleaning. Hearing Ichigo's stomach grumble was satisfactory enough for her.

They both ate in silence for a while. Ichigo was finished with his meal in no time. He went back to flipping the channels while Yoruichi left to fetch them some water.

Crap. Crap. Crap. Double crap, he thought at the content on each channel he flipped.

Nothing on TV interested him. He was just about to switch it off when he was caught by a flash of purple. His finger on the red button on the remote stopped, almost like a reflex. He frowned as he looked at a news channel which was broadcasting an interview with someone.

It was a woman.

Whoever she was, she made Ichigo stop and watch. And that was what Ichigo did; he stopped and watched.

She had thick, shiny raven black hair that was cut up in an unrecognisable bob with a single chin-long bang that fell across her face. Her eyes which were a magnificent shade of purple were the biggest feature on her face. She had a small nose and thin but full lips.

She had a petite frame but somehow managed to give off an air of strength despite it.

Ichigo found her to be stunning. He had seen more than his share of beautiful women, but there was something indefinable about her beauty, a sort of care-free attitude that made him think the young woman herself had no idea how beautiful she really was. Her beauty was – unassuming.

She looked to be in her early to mid-twenties and at the moment, she was giving an interview to a famous television host.

"Congratulations on your success," the host was saying as he smiled at her. "Everyone is talking about your performance. Tell me, what interested you about this particular character?"

The beauty pondered for a bit. "It was a very well written part and I just loved the character once I read the script. She was all I could think about. I feel lucky to have played her."

Ichigo heard her rich, sultry voice come through the television but he felt like she was sitting in the room with him. Unconsciously, he leaned in, wanting to be closer to her.

"Well, it is a fantastic movie. And your performance stands out more than ever. So, would you consider making any blockbusters in the future?"

She smiled. "No, I'm afraid not. I like doing small budget movies for now. But if something interesting comes my way, I'll try to give it a shot."

"Well, it's been an absolute pleasure having you on my show," said the host as he shook her hand, "Thank you so much for being here."

"Thank you for having me."

A last frame of her smiling face was what he saw before the commercials rolled in. He felt a sense of disappointment in that. He really did switch off the TV this time.

"Kuchiki Rukia," said Yoruichi's voice from behind him. He turned on his seat to see her standing by the couch holding a bottle of water in her hand.

"Who?"

"That was the actress – Kuchiki Rukia," she said, handing him the bottle. "She's gaining a lot of popularity for her roles. Her latest one was in a small budget film about a woman who went mad after her failure as a writer. It was an amazing performance."

"Oh…"

Ichigo felt a kind of excitement that he just couldn't define. Why did he feel so happy that she was in the same profession as he was? He didn't really have to ask; he knew the reason. However, it came as a shock to him that he should feel so taken by a person whom he'd seen on TV. For a second, he felt he knew what it was to be a "fanboy".

He scowled at his own analogy.

"And why didn't I hear about it before now?" he asked her, genuinely curious. Where the hell was he when the newspapers were praising her for her previous performances?

"You were with Senna," Yoruichi stated flatly.

"Ah …"

Well, that should explain it.

The up and coming actor Kurosaki Ichigo was dating the promising young actress Senna, at the start of their careers. But, like most relationships, theirs also came to an end a few months later, unable to withstand the media pressure. They went their separate ways and Ichigo had moved on spectacularly. His dating stories made headlines because he went out with supermodels, actresses and other high profile women in the entertainment business.

There were no doubts about the fact that Kurosaki Ichigo was something of a playboy.

"The tabloids were having a field day when they were printing stories about the supposed love triangle between you, her and your co-actor, Tsukishima."

Those days were hell for Yoruichi as she had to explain to the press that there was no love triangle and no story to report. She was not only his agent, but was also his Public Relations manager. If you wanted to speak to Kurosaki Ichigo, you have to call Shihoin Yoruichi first.

"Tabloid shit," he said harshly. It didn't matter to him anymore but he still didn't like hearing about it. And when he had been drowning under media scrutiny, Kuchiki Rukia had been silently making a mark for herself.

Yoruichi sat down on the couch placed sideways to his and gazed at him with full attention. He gazed back, mirroring her expression. He knew she was about to talk business.

"I've got a script I want you to look at," she said, looking and sounding serious, "it's a little out of your comfort zone but I want you to seriously consider it. It's a small film, low budget and a period piece."

Ichigo was not happy to hear those words. He was an action star and liked to focus on them before he wanted to consider more "serious" roles.

"Okay," he said at last. He could take a look, right? If he didn't find it interesting, he'd refuse it.

"Good," Yoruichi said, as she leaned back into her chair, "because your co-star will be Kuchiki Rukia."

Silence. Then, a slow smile formed on Ichigo's face.

"Really now?" he asked, slowly.

"Yes," said Yoruichi, taken aback by his reaction. She thought she would need to coax him into considering the role.

He didn't have to think about it anymore.

He knew what he was going to do. He just found the script a lot more interesting.

It may take a while for me to update. But please tell me what you think. Should I continue or not?

Thank you so much for reading. Please review.