AN: yo so ya gal is back with another fic but this one will be pure happiness and fluff I SWEAR. i've been wanting to do one like this for aaaages (that's what "let you love me" was supposed to be lmao) so it's finally here. there's no ~royai relationship~ angst, but riza's backstory will get explored which will obvs have angst in it
updates will be sporadic unless i manage to figure out a routine with writing this and "hit and run" as that one is taking priority at the moment
title: inferno cyril hahn and say lou lou (and perfect for royai uwu)
song mentioned: ships in the night by mat kearney (an absolute banger)
The bar was busy tonight – a regular occurrence but still a constant worry in Roy Mustang's mind. His newest venture was working out well, but he'd been in the game too long to let it get his hopes up. A good start was all well and good, but he'd need to retain these customers in order to maintain his success. This bar was a passion project of his and he didn't want to ruin it.
Laughter and chatter filled the space. The bar itself was packed as people conversed and as others tried to buy their drinks. Every table was filled, all the seats taken, and people milled about in the free space in between, celebrating the end of the week with their friends and co-workers.
Seeing it with his own eyes and feeling the atmosphere of the place soothed his fears and he let loose a long breath, a smile spreading across his face.
He was so happy this was working out.
Ignis was a higher end bar in Central, the drinks a little more expensive than what the regular person would spend, however it was expected in the capital of the country. Roy himself wanted his bar to be open and attract everyone, but due to the location it wasn't possible. Until it was well established, he would need to cater to a particular clientele, and in turn those rich kids would keep his dream alive. He was thankful, but until he could cater to all – not just the higher end of society – then Roy wouldn't class this as a success.
Roy scanned the bar from the balcony outside his office. The décor was modern and minimalistic. Black tiled floors and white walls was the main theme of the bar. The ceiling was open, showing the pipes and lighting wires in the ceiling. The lights hung low over the black topped tables and matching chairs, the lampshades white but the bulbs inside were dulled at the moment, giving off a cosy feeling. They could change colour to whatever Roy wished them to, but for now the dull amber light was perfect – and his favourite. There were candles on every table as well but were unlit at this time of night. Tipsy customers and fire decidedly would not mix well, even if the name of the place was Latin for fire.
The bar itself had a black tiled front with a black marble top. It ran the length of the wall opposite the door and he watched as his staff effortlessly moved around one another to pour drinks and serve customers. They each laughed with those they were serving, and Roy felt a surge of pride inside him. He wanted to be known for having staff like that – those that would welcome anyone and act like a friend to those who entered.
"What's up man?" a voice asked, clapping Roy on the back. Maes Hughes grinned at him from his right, setting his forearms on the chrome railing that surrounded the balcony to mirror Roy's stance. He looked down on the space below.
"Hey, Maes."
"How's it going?"
Roy let out a breath. "Good," he replied sincerely. "Really good. Everyone seems happy, the bar is busy, so… yeah. Good."
"You are a natural born wordsmith, my friend."
Roy raised an eyebrow. "I've been stuck in that office all day responding to emails and making phone calls. Excuse me if I'm not up to par on my conversational skills after talking for the last right hours."
"I'm surprised. You seem to love the sound of your own voice I thought you'd be used to speaking for so long by now," Maes joked, laughing loudly when Roy elbowed him in response.
"The live music is organised for tonight," Maes revealed. He turned to face Roy, crossing his arms and popping his hip to rest it on the railing. "I managed to pull in a last-minute favour."
"You're the best, Maes, thank you." His act for tonight had pulled out two hours ago and Roy's bar was the only place in the city known for its live music every weekend – Friday to Sunday. He'd only been open a month and didn't want that weekly tradition to be slipping already.
"Now, the act is… slightly different from your usual music, but I think you'll like it."
"That's fine with me, I'm open to anything," Roy revealed. "As long as the people like it, I'll be happy."
Maes grinned. "Excellent. I've been told she's fantastic."
"Does "she" have a name?" Roy asked, amused.
"Riza Hawkeye. No band, just one woman and a guitar. Not well known but I heard a sample of her material that the manager passed along and –" Maes whistled low showing his appreciation. "She is fucking good."
"I'll take your word for it. There's a reason you're the head of live music," Roy grinned. "You've got a good ear for his stuff."
"Thank you, thank you," he bowed before laughing and leaning against the railing again. "I know," he sighed, as if his "gift" was a burden. "It's a tough life listening to good music all day."
"I'll bet," Roy smiled wryly.
"I need to get going. I promised Gracia I'd be home before nine o'clock for once in my life and I intend to stick to it."
"Go for it, man. I won't keep you." The poor guy had been a saint helping Roy with his opening and keeping the business afloat for the last month. It was about time he earned a break. "Take tomorrow and Sunday off too. I'll be here anyway so there's no point in both of us being in."
Maes clapped him on the shoulder again, thanking him. "Have a good one, Roy."
"You too, Maes. I'll catch you later."
After Maes left and after one last cursory glance over the busy bar, Roy returned to his office and shut down his computer. He'd spent too long looking at that damned screen all day and he wanted to get out there and enjoy the live music and the atmosphere of his own bar. Those remaining five emails that were calling to him could wait until tomorrow afternoon when he would be back in.
"Hey, Roy!" Jean Havoc called to him with a grin from behind the bar. He lifted a glass in greeting, bringing it down to fill it with a pint of beer for a customer in front of him. He said something to the man who grinned and laughed in response. Jean beamed at him, slinging his dishtowel across his shoulder across his shoulder while turning his attention to his boss. "What can I get you?"
"Kraken and coke," Roy replied, entering behind the bar with the rest of his staff.
"Coming right up!" He effortlessly poured the drink, not wasting a drop of rum as he poured the shot then transferred it to a glass. The man was an artist with his ability to create drinks. His cocktails were part of what made the place kind of famous. The designs he could create even baffled Roy. He had no idea how Havoc did it.
He glanced at the clock, noting it was five minutes to nine. Roy stepped into the kitchen behind the bar and turned the music low, signalling tonight's act would be starting soon. The murmur died down for a few moments before being replaced by a more excited aura.
Roy felt pride surge inside him once more. All his hard work had paid off and it had all led to moments like this. He was no stranger to success in his life, but seeing this idea finally come to fruition after years of hard work and delays was infinitely more satisfying than any of his previous success.
He retrieved his drink from Jean and at nine o'clock he turned the music off in the back completely. His skin prickled in excited anticipation as it always did once a new act came to perform at his bar. Normally he would listen to their stuff beforehand, but this had been way too last minute and if Maes Hughes – once one of the most prolific talent scouts in music – said the act was good, then the act was good. He hadn't even said this Riza woman was good, he said she was fucking good and that put her way up in his estimation.
A woman stepped out from behind the black curtain behind the stage to the left of the bar. She had her acoustic guitar in tow, her long blonde hair falling in front of her face as she organised her set and made herself comfortable in the chair he offered the acts. The chatter had died down as some watched expectantly – Roy included.
"Where is this place again, Becca?" Riza asked as her oldest friend and manager ushered her rather quickly into her car. Apparently, Rebecca had found her a last-minute gig for the night, and it started in less than an hour. Riza lived on the outskirts of Central and they would have to book it across town to make in time. She was already bracing herself for a ride with her eyes closed. If she couldn't see her friend's manic driving in Friday night traffic, then her anxiety wouldn't play up and she wouldn't begin to fear for her life. Seriously, it was a wonder Rebecca Catalina hadn't crashed her car yet.
"It's called Ignis. The newest and hottest bar in Central right now," Rebecca revealed with a pleased glint in her eye. "It's very exclusive, and ya gal has just managed to book you in there," she grinned.
At the word "exclusive" Riza's stomach sunk. She faltered in her walk, only to have Rebecca place a hand on her back and firmly keep her moving towards the car. She didn't want to play "exclusive". That meant rich kids and stuck up assholes. They wouldn't be interested in her kind of music. Riza's palms begun to sweat.
"Wait, exclusive –?"
"It's just what the papers say," Rebecca cut her off, waving away her insecurities. "And nobody really pays attention to what they say. It's just a ploy to get people to go there. It's all advertising." Rebecca opened the boot of her car and gestured for Riza to place her guitar case in there quickly and for her to get her butt in the car pronto.
"And what was it called. Ignite?"
"Ignis," Rebecca rolled her eyes. "You've never heard of it?" Riza shook her head, strapping herself into the car. "It's on Third Street." Riza's anxiety kicked back into gear. That was a high-end part of town. He didn't get much time to dwell on it because Rebecca took off at a breakneck speed and Riza grabbed the handrail above her head for that little bit extra security. "Next to Lizzar's."
Riza cocked her head as she racked her brain for a moment. "Didn't that used to be Velocity?"
"Riza," Rebecca stated, tone condescending. "Velocity was replaced ten years ago. Since then it's had two name changes."
"Really?" she asked, surprised. This was news to her. "I… I thought it had always been Velocity…" She trailed off, realising just how much she was digging herself into a hole here. She loved Rebecca, and vice versa, but Riza new she got frustrated with her not-up-to-date-on-anything ways. All her friends did – not that there were many.
"Oh my god, you really do live under a rock," Rebecca sighed in exasperation.
"I don't," Riza huffed, leaning her head on the car window and looking outside. "I've just got better things to do than sit and stare at my phone for every minute of every day."
"Well me staring at my phone every minute of every day got you this job."
Riza sighed. Rebecca was right. Her tone wasn't clipped or irritated, just a friendly reminder for Riza that the world was moving on quickly and she needed to catch up. As per usual. Riza liked her lifestyle right now and was pleased she wasn't a mindless zombie strapped to her phone. She got out into the world and appreciated it for what it was, rather than staring at it through a screen.
As they passed by the front of Ignis Riza felt her stomach sink. She was pleased to see there was a queue already forming outside the bar complete with two bouncers outside, but how many people were actually here to listen to her? She was last minute and not the typical music found at a trendy place like this. Her anxiety returned with a vengeance.
"Who owns this place?" she asked, taking in the black tile behind the silvery-white writing above the entrance. Tiny lights sparkled in the black tile, giving the impression the background was sparkling. It looked really nice, Riza noticed. Not what she expected, which was flashy and gaudy. This place looked classy, nothing like Lizzar's they just passed next door.
"I don't know. Some rich dude with glasses?" she shrugged. Rebecca rarely had time for the finer details which made Riza's life slightly more difficult at times. For one thing, she liked to know the name of the person paying her before she turned up at the venue. That always led to awkward introductions and didn't exactly leave a good impression.
Rebecca drove and parked around the back, jumping out before the engine was completely off and ushering Riza inside. She barely had time to grab her guitar before Rebecca almost ripped it out her hands and carried it herself. Riza held it protectively against her body and glared at her no-nonsense manager. God, the woman could be infuriating.
"Come on," she rushed Riza, gesturing for her to hurry up towards the curtain backstage.
"Becca, I don't think this is a good idea –"
"It will be fine."
"But they're not exactly the type for this –"
"Riza."
"I really think I shouldn't –"
"Riza," Rebecca cut in. "We're out of time. It's nine o'clock and you're due on," Rebecca told her firmly. "We both need the money so get out there and knock 'em dead. We both know you will." She smiled encouragingly at Riza and it was needed.
Rebecca could be a pain and pushy at times, but she believed in Riza – more so than herself – and she often forgot that. Rebecca had never steered her wrong before and every gig had been a success so far – despite not being called back yet. She'd only started singing semi-professionally a year ago in between working in the coffee shop below her apartment. It paid the bills and it was what Riza loved. With Rebecca's help, Riza had become successful. If she said there was nothing to worry about, then there was nothing to worry about.
Riza took a deep breath and steadied her nerves. "Right."
Rebecca grinned at her, squeezing both her shoulders. "Go out there and show Ignis just how good Riza Hawkeye really it." Riza rolled her eyes at her friend but passed through the curtain with a grin.
She organised herself on the small stage overlooking the bar. After a quick glance she saw there were already a few people looking at her expectantly. She angled her head so her hair fell in front of her, shielding herself from their gazes.
Steadying her slightly shaking hands, she repeated that she could do this over and over again in her head. Riza took her seat and strummed her guitar, finally looking up and meeting the gazes of the people staring at her. She took a deep breath and let it out in one go.
Her pre-gig ritual was complete.
"Hey everyone," she greeted into the mic. She cringed at how loud she sounded. She'd always hated hearing herself back, but Riza blocked it out. She couldn't help but smile as a few people whooped and shouted "yeah!" after her greeting. "It's good to be here tonight," she added, strumming her guitar a few more times and tuning it how she liked. "I hope you enjoy my stuff. If not, my manager has ear plugs just for this occasion." The self-depreciating joke went over well, and more than a few people laughed. It was a lot more than she expected.
"I'll ease you in slowly," she told them, adjusting the earpiece so she could hear her guitar better with every strum. "This is a cover of a song that I've loved for years. It's called Ships in the Night. I hope you like it."
Riza opened her mouth and blocked everything else out, beginning her set of the night.