~ Spotlight ~

Chapter One

You have never once thought, in a million years, that you'd ever be in this situation.

It all started when your friend barged into your dorm room in between classes screeching about her newest obsession with a solo artist who had signed with Chariot Entertainment, praise and adoration pouring from her lips in a seemingly never-ending stream.

"He is AH-MAZING and so versatile! With his moods, lyrics, acting ability, dancing, EVERYTHING. You know I'm not the boy-band type but seriously, if he had debuted while we were in high school I would have been swooning like the rest of them were over JB except, you know, over ASRA, haha," She was swooning right then, and blushing more than you had ever seen her, you noted wryly.

"…and whew, have you seen those EYES they're gorgeous, just like the rest of him of course, but the colour is so rare and vibrant, they must be contacts right? Or Photoshop? Aw heck, even if they are listenliste n, I swear you won't regret it, you'll love him. Oh! And did you know he has a pet snake? I'm not a reptile person but Faust is a total cutie!" And you had to admit, even if to yourself, that that alone was enough for you give him a listen. Your friend knew you well enough to know that about you as well. You had always wanted a pet snake, and that whoever had one or even liked them immediately gained a substantial amount of cool points in your eyes.

During your musing she had dropped the CD she had been previously waving in your face and had commandeered your laptop to bring up a music streaming site and was typing rapidly, hitting the keys a little harder than necessary in her eagerness.

"You HAVE to watch his music videos while listening to his songs the first time around to really get what I mean. My favourite song of his is Masquerade, of course, sap that I am, but all of them have their own charm," she explains to you while scrolling to a playlist of ASRA, (yes, the entire name was indeed capitalized,) music videos with lyrics included at the bottom.

She clicked the first in the playlist that showed a still of a beautiful white-haired person singing into a headset mic, lips parted, in the foreground of a futuristic-looking nightclub with pastel purple neon lit walls and all-white furniture and accouterments. When the video started the lights were all dark except for the purple-lit wall, then the wall parts, the rest of the lights go up and dance music starts simultaneously prompting the singer to strut forward on a white catwalk with dancers choreographed all around it.

He was wearing a holographic halter neck crop top that shifted rainbow colours in the light, and matching form-fitting pants. With fluffy white hair, enviously long lashes, gold-toned skin, plush-looking lips, an amazing bone structure, and those hypnotic, unusual lavender eyes (and a siren-like voice), as well as a lithe physique, you could easily admit that he was the most perfect person you had ever seen. If not the most perfect looking person in creation.

Here he sung about a serendipitous encounter comprised of a night of small adventures and new experiences, the character the singer was playing being the more experienced, jaded person of the pair, and the person the character was singing about being a naïve, innocent person. A person who the character ASRA played claimed would become just a small insignificant memory in the grand scheme of things, while knowing that he would remember them and wishing that the person that he was singing about would remember him too. Charmed by the recipients' innocence and wonder, the singer then propositions the other character to spend the night with him claiming to the listener not to love the other character of the song, and that he wanted to "mess up their innocence" while also craving to be able to look into their eyes and see love there. This, he believes the other person is capable of giving him instead of the lust that he has seen in everyone else's. The song ends unresolved as to whether that person accepted his proposition or rejected it. Whether they were capable of loving him or not; though he finally admitted to himself and the listener that he could fall for them completely given time.

The themes of the rest of the songs were similar to this. Resisting or giving in to temptation, falling in love, being in love, losing love, trying to fall out of love but being unable to move on. At least half of all the world's singers that there ever were had sung about these very topics before, but somehow in his gestures and expressions, you were even more than half-convinced that the emotions and sensations that he was singing about were at least partly genuine. That he was bringing his own feelings and experiences into the songs he sings and acts for. Nobody could fake the emotions that were in his eyes, you thought. And you wondered what brought him to where he is now, what had happened to him in his life.

When you looked over at your companion, she had plonked herself down on the edge of your bed and was swaying to the current song, the tune not what you had last remembered listening to. Her lips were tightly pressed together in an effort to stop herself from singing along. When at last the song came to a close, you were disappointed to find that the album had concluded.

A nudge to your leg with a foot, you swiveled your rolling chair to face your friend to find her flashing you a knowing smile. "Soooooo~?"

You answer without further prompting. "You're right, he's amazing."

She cheers. "Awesome! Now let's get you set up with an account on his fansite~ There's exclusive content on there like merch, interviews, photos, and you automatically get put on the list for ticket pre-order alerts AND a ten percent discount. Also there's contests held on there occasionally." You enter your email, pick a username and a password. Then it prompts for an invite code which then your friend hastily enters (clearly she had momentarily forgotten that part, but the exclusivity does make sense) and then you're set up. As she talks you browse the different parts of the website, only half listening to the other features of the official fanclub until you click on the most recent cosplay contest. You had to do a double take.

"Is that you?!"

Your friend laughed sheepishly. "Yeeeeeeup guilty as charged. The Masquerade costume is too pretty to be ignored, so me and a couple of other friends tackled it together. Honestly it was a miracle that we could find a sheer fabric like that of any quality to be honest, and the gold embossing…" here she shivers. "Well, let's just say that it's a good thing the outfit had to have gloves, my hands were a mess by the end."

You glanced back at the page and saw that the prize was a pair of tickets to the next concert in the winners area. And it was this coming Friday…convenient timing.

"It looks really good, you deserve the prize. So…what happened to the friends who helped you work on it?"

"Weeeeell," she adopted a faux cutesy stance in good humour, clearly knowing what you were getting at. "One of my friends isn't really into pop music, but was in it for the challenge and the elegant design so she didn't mind my other friend and I taking the tickets as long we all had the credit if I won. That, and if she could use the costume for her portfolio. And the other friend who was going to come with me recently found out that she has a midterm scheduled for the night period on the day."

"So you wanted to get me into ASRA enough so that I'd want to go with you to ensure that you don't have to go by yourself." You surmised.

Another embarrassed laugh. "Right!"

You shrugged carelessly, a smirk tugging at your lips. "You've twisted my arm. Who am I to say no to a free concert ticket?"

With a shout, she tackled you to the bed in a hug proclaiming how great you were and that you were the best. Inwardly, you shook your head laughing at how easy it was to be "the best" in her eyes but in reality, hugged her a little tighter because life is hard, school makes you lonely, and sometimes we all have to take the time to appreciate the little things.

Friday night came around more quickly than you had expected it to.

You went to class, ate, procrastinated, did your homework, slept, then repeated the cycle over again not necessarily in the same order, like usual, until your friend dragged you to her room to get ready for the concert together, and it was time to go. She dressed in the Masquerade outfit, which you tried to dissuade her against because of the pristine, long white skirt and the billowing sleeves both of which could get easily torn or dirtied. (Not to mention how hot she'd get, and how quickly because of all the warm bodies and everything else that would be surrounding the two of you.)

"This costume is amazing and there's no way that I'm letting it waste away in the back of a closet. It will be seen, and it will be appreciated." She'd said. "Also, I really want him to sign a glove." Because what do you know, those tickets came with backstage access to meet ASRA after the show.

When you'd suggested the much more reasonable alternative of just taking a glove in her purse for him to sign, she stubbornly refused, again citing that she wanted to show off her hard work and not let it to go to waste, threat of ruin or heatstroke be damned.

You sighed.

There really was no arguing with her when she was like this.

On the way in the taxi, you listened to ASRA's songs on your phone, your earbuds in like you couldn't help but doing for the past week. His songs really did move you – transport you into another world, almost. There was just something about him that drew you in a way you had never experienced with any other singer or band. And it wasn't just that he was insanely gorgeous either.

Before you could begin to put your finger on it, you had arrived at the concert hall and your friend was tapping you to cough up your half of the fare. And as though in a blur you stood in line, passed through security, went to have a look at the t-shirts and other merchandise, and your friend getting stopped for pictures multiple times, you finally got to your places in the mosh pit.

You glanced surreptitiously again at the long white skirt your friend was wearing and gave her a look. That thing is a death-wish down here. Defiantly, she bunches up the skirt on either side into fists and lifts it a quarter of the way off the floor, revealing white flat-heeled riding boots. Hopefully they don't pinch and have support, but knowing her, that wasn't a given. But really, as if she was going to stand or bounce in place like that for the entire concert.

Yeah, right.

Then right on time the lights go down, the music starts up, and the two of you look at each other and let out some excited squeals, jumping slightly in place just before the singer makes his grand entrance.

You smile, because you're glad for the little things in life, for friends, and how your loneliness will be filled just a little bit tonight. You know you will enjoy yourself.

All too soon, half the concert was over, and intermission had arrived. You waded your way to the restroom, while your friend saved your place in the mosh pit. You shook your head and wondered how she did it. You were honestly convinced that the girl was just a series of convenient miracles haphazardly strung together. You loved her for it, but also found moments when you were both in awe and in fear of her powers.

Such as not having to go to the restroom for what would be the entire concert.

Anyway, that was neither here nor there; because on the way back from the restroom between the people milling about outside the auditorium either getting refreshments, getting a look at the merchandise, or still waiting in line to relieve themselves – you had somehow got pushed in the opposite direction you were supposed to go. That is, towards the employees only area.

You were not supposed to be here.

You looked down at the pass hanging from your neck. On one hand, you were supposed to be looking for the back stage area eventually and on the other, well, that was obvious. The assumption would be that you were sneaking where you were not supposed to be, violating security, privacy, and who knows, you thought while you panicked, maybe even the law.

Suddenly, you felt a cool, squeezing sensation around your ankle.

Making sure to hold your legs completely still, you looked down to find a light purple snake starting to wind its way up your leg. You bent at the waist to get a closer look.

Peering for a few seconds at your unexpected passenger, it clicked.

"You're Faust aren't you? ASRA's pet snake."

She looked up at the sound of your voice, red eyes peering into your own and flicked her tongue in what you decided was confirmation.

"C'mere then," you urged in a soft tone offering your hand and arms for her to slither into instead. "He must be worried sick about you. Let's go find him or one of the staff to get you back to where you belong. And whoever we run into can point me in the right direction, so I can get back to where I belong."

As you thought out loud to the snake, she slithered into your embrace and wrapped herself around your arms. "How does that sound? My friend must be getting worried about me too. So let's get you back to your master, hm?"

Another tongue flick.

"Alright then, let's go."

You pick a direction and walk.

Not too long after, you find your way to where all the bustle of the technicians and performance aides are and you try to navigate the crowd to try and find someone looking a little less busy than everyone else to take the erstwhile snake off your hands. "Excuse me!" you exclaimed to any one of the passersby that might possibly listen.

"Um, excuse me? I found ASRA's pet snake, Faust? C-could someone maybe-?"

A frantic clicking of boots across tile headed in your direction halted your awkward, stuttered explanation of what you were doing in an area that was clearly off-limits to you. You turned towards the source of the noise, and what you saw relieved and stirred up nervous butterflies in you all at once.

There was ASRA, striding towards you in a costume change from when you had last seen him, a deep v-neck lavender jumpsuit with bell sleeves and pant legs reminiscent of 70s disco. With his hair slicked back, shimmering purple eye makeup, a bold amount of highlighter, and clear-but-maybe-light-pink lip gloss, he was a vision, even with his features pinched in distress. You are shamed to admit that you stared more than was polite, but thankful that you didn't suddenly lose all your faculties and accidently drop the snake you were trying to return to her owner.

"Oh thank god-!"

His speaking voice was just as lovely as his singing voice heavens help you.

"Faust, where have you been!? Now is not the time to be exploring new places. But also, I wonder who let you out in the first place? They will be having a meeting with Nadia and myself first thing in the morning, if they know what's good for them." He ranted to the snake like a concerned mother.

He holds out his arms for Faust to slither onto, and she does, winding her way up his body to drape herself across his shoulders. She then bobs her head up at you and flicks her tongue out once more in what you could swear was thanks, and it is then that he really looks and finally takes notice of you. The panic recedes from his face and the colour has begun returning to his cheeks.

"I- Thank you so much for finding her. I have no idea what I would do if I ever lost Faust."

Pink invades your cheeks. "I-it's no problem at all! I would be beside myself- I mean- I would be worried too if my pet went missing, especially in such a large and unfamiliar place. I was also sort of afraid of her getting stepped on, to be honest. So, I guess what I'm saying is that I was happy to help reunite the two of you." You ended bashfully.

He blinked in surprise before a warm smile graced his lips. "Well, I see that you really do mean that you're happy to help, now." His eyes flickered down to my pass then back up. "And apparently as you already have a pass to come backstage to the after party when the concert is over, I'm afraid I don't really know how I can repay you." he says, a shadow passing over his smile.

You waved off his concern with an embarrassed chuckle. "No thanks needed, though if you do insist, maybe you could tell me how to get back to the main part of the hall? I was in the mosh pit with my friend."

He beamed. "Of course, I could have a couple of my bodyguards escort you through the shortcut down here, and we can resume the concert." His features momentarily passed into a frown before lightening again.

"We're already twenty minutes late coming back from intermission because of this, though we cited tech adjustments, but I wouldn't like to keep everyone waiting longer than necessary." He turned, one hand holding Faust across his shoulders, the other extending an index finger to scritch her under the chin making her eyes close in contentment. He made it a few steps before realizing you still stood stock-still in some sort of stupor.

He looked back at you over his shoulder, a mischievous smirk on his features. "Come oooooon, what are you waiting for? Follow me!"

You stumbled after him slightly with a squeak, following him as he handed off Faust to a regal-looking woman named Nadia, explaining the situation to her, before leading you to a couple of bodyguards and assigning their task to them. Just as you were about to part ways he turns back to you and calls out to you to wait.

You look at him, a question in your eyes.

"What's your name?"

Surprised, but pleased you happily tell him, and he lets you go so you can both go back to your places, but not without the promise of seeing you later.

You walk back to your place with a spring in your step.

As soon as you find your friend back in the mosh pit she barrels into you with a tight hug asking 'where were yous' and exclaiming 'I was so worrieds', and you hugged back saying that you got a little lost in the crowd and that you would explain the rest later.

Then, as you were expecting, the lighting changed again signaling the continuation into the second half of the concert. The singer once again graced the stage and apologized for the "technical delays" before psyching the audience up once again. What followed you did not expect.

"As this next song was my debut single, I'm sure you all know what it's about, and what it's called. It's about good people, or in context of the song, angelic beings who grace us with their good deeds and make the world a little brighter with their selfless interventions. Tonight, I'd like to dedicate my performance of this song to an angel who helped me very recently with something that's dear to my heart. I'd like to say thank you in one of the only ways I know how. So, thank you, this performance of Heavenly Messenger is for you."

Your name.

He said your name.

He's dedicating a song- or, well, a performance of a song – TO YOU!

You looked up at him with a shocked expression as he started the song, though out of the corner of your eye you could see that your friend was looking at you. You didn't need to turn and see to know what that look was telling you.

You have a LOT of explaining to do.

You would deliver, but for now you would soak up this moment of sweetness.