Of Roses and Smoke
"In other news, the relative newcomer to the music scene, Mello, has blitzed the charts with his single 'Second'…"
"And the winner for Best-Selling Album is… Mello for his album 'Mafia Lover'!"
"…and coming soon to the Apollo is Mello in his world-tour!"
The after-show buzz set in as soon as he stepped of the stage. The adrenaline pumped through him and Mello knew it had been a good show. He'd had the whole audience on their feet from beginning to end and they'd hung on every word he'd sung and every chord he'd strum. Mello knew what to say to make the teenage girls in the audience swoon. How to make the guys admire him, want to be him.
And who wouldn't want to be Mello. He was a star. He knew it, his fans knew it, the whole damn world knew it. He had half of the music business wrapped around his little finger and he intended to keep it that way. If he asked for water then he'd instantly given the choice of at least five different types (all bottled and imported of course) or if he wanted a break from recording then he decided for how long, without any complaints.
Mello had become a diva in every sense of the word, and he liked it.
The world he lived in now was a far cry from his childhood when he had attended the Wammy Academy for Musically Gifted Youths. In this world, his world, he was the best. Not second after some piano-playing albino "prodigy" as he had so often heard Near be referred to. At Wammys he'd so often find himself second to Near. His music wasn't "orthodox" or "mainstream" Mr Roger would always say. Mello would always be the follow up act or the crowd-warmer. Never the head-liner. Never the star.
Not anymore.
In his world he caught people's attention and he kept it all for himself. Besides, it was Mello who had to perform night after night in his sell-out gigs. It was Mello who wouldn't stop moving on the stage until he'd sang the very last note. It was Mello who wrote the songs that had captured the minds of so many people across the world. He deserved to keep some of the glory.
As Mello allowed people to fuss over him, taking off his make-up and microphone, his manger came over beaming from ear to ear.
"Mello! That was fantastic! Listen babe, you got two more gigs to finish your tour and then it's time for a rest, 'kay? I'll book you into you're favourite spa for two weeks, we don't want you losing that pretty little voice of yours." Rod was quickly on the phone and barking some orders at the person at the other end. Mello rolled his eyes. He disliked Rod immensely but he was a manger who got things done and that was all Mello needed.
After having got changed and signing many autographs (Something Mello never tired of) he was in his limousine that had been waiting outside the building for him. It quickly drove to the hotel Mello had been staying in. Mello did own an apartment nearby but Rod had decided that he had to stay close at hand in case anything happened. Mello, however, didn't mind. Staying in a hotel was far more glamorous and he liked the breakfast they served there.
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Outside the Apollo a man sat in his car with the window down, smoking a cigarette. The show had been quite magnificent and Mello had certainly sung beautifully. Taking another drag of the white stick between his fingers the man smirked. Best go congratulate him myself, he decided as he through the finished cigarette out of the window, turned the ignition in the car and sped toward the hotel he knew Mello would be staying in.
Ugh, how was it? Good, bad, awful, fabulous?! I'd like to know! This is my first fic i'm putting up here so it would be nice to have some encouragement!
On another note: This came to me whilst reading 'Limelight'. When Mello steps out of the car he looks like a rockstar/diva and i wanted to do somthing along those lines. This will turn into MattXMello (Coz i love that pairing so much) but there was VERY little Matt in this. Sorry!