AN: chapter 3 ie roy is smitten and riza catches a break
this fic is giving me life btw happy royai is good royai
Roy awoke slowly on Sunday morning. He stretched for a long time in his bed, feet getting caught up in the sheets, before relaxing once more, closing his eyes as his body fought off the last of the sleep. Once feeling awake enough, Roy opened his eyes and looked across his bedroom, out the small gap in the large window which covered the whole of the wall opposite him.
Reaching to the bedside table on his left he picked up a remote control, clicking a button so his curtains would open even wider, revealing more of the view to him. There was a quiet whir as they moved, revealing Central to him. Propping his head up, he placed a hand behind it and Roy sighed in contentment as he welcomed the new day.
He would never tire of waking up to this view. Being in the penthouse came with great perks.
The city of Central stretched out before him. It was a clear and beautiful morning so he could see all the way to the outskirts of the city where grey buildings gave way to lush green forest. The skies were endless blue all the way north. On a really clear day, like today, he could see the Briggs Mountains in the distance.
Roy lounged for another hour or so, scrolling through his phone. Out of pure curiosity he looked up entertainment news and was pleased to see that someone had wrote a blog post about his bar last night, commenting on how the live music was fantastic, but Roy frowned when he noticed the author hadn't mentioned Riza Hawkeye by name. A few others were the same and Roy sighed. They always did this, but he didn't deserve the credit. The artists did.
Standing from his bed Roy stretched again as he walked out of his bedroom and into his living room. He shivered when the cool air hit his bare chest.
The apartment was huge. The front door opened up into a small hallway space, but then opened up further into one large room. His living room, kitchen, and dining space was all very open plan. Another tall window covered the wall opposite the door, stretching from one end of the room to the other without a break in the glass, just like it did in his bedroom. The best part was it was one-way glass, so although it gave off the illusion that his home didn't have an ounce of privacy, no one could see in. Above the window were hidden LED lights, which also covered the rest of the apartment, which Roy could control and change the colour of. It was his favourite at night, when he could turn the lights down to a soft orange glow as he listened to music and read a book.
The décor of his apartment was very minimalist and modern, much like his bar. It looked too much like a showroom for Roy when he'd first moved in, so he'd painted the walls from white to a silvery-grey colour and placed matching rugs over his polished white tiled floors. The generic paintings on the walls were swapped out for his platinum albums – his proudest achievements – along with the deed to his bar, framed above the faux fireplace. Picture frames filled with family and friends covered most of the shelves which had housed books Roy had never even heard of when he moved in. He'd placed them in storage and instead, showed off his loved ones. Every time he passed by that shelf leading towards the large bathroom off to the left of the living space, he smiled. His own bedroom was en-suite with an incredibly generously sized bathroom, but the one down the hall was even larger in size. Ridiculous, in all honesty, but there wasn't much Roy could do about that. Plus, there were another two en-suite bedrooms in the apartment, but Roy had converted one into an office and the other into an in-house recording studio, the bathrooms rarely used.
The kitchen was full of the most high-end model appliances. Those came with the apartment and Roy had found them useful so never really gave them a second thought in regard to replacing them. He was a simple man but couldn't deny the convenience of having a fridge that could produce both cold and hot water on the front of it. A breakfast bar sat at an island in the middle of the kitchen space with a square table behind it and to the right, next to the window, with four chairs around it.
As he walked through from his bedroom, Roy noted that he couldn't stop thinking about Riza. Her voice was nothing like he'd ever heard before. It was hauntingly beautiful, and Roy yearned to hear it again. With a jolt, he remembered he had her EP sitting in his backpack. Forgoing making breakfast, he made a beeline for his bag, left by his apartment door when he'd entered last night. He smiled when he spotted it, noting the simple cover. A gold background with her name written on it in white letters with a simple font, all lower case. There was nothing else, no title, just her name.
Roy stood and approached his hi-fi. He inserted the CD and hit play, feeling emotion swell in him as he heard the first notes of her song. Like her covers last night, it was stunning. She did say it had been recorded in her home, so there was the occasional beep of a horn or a rumble of a passing train, but Roy barely even noticed it. He was too enthralled by her lyrics and her voice.
He remembered the way her eyes closed as she sang, how her hair fell across her shoulder, draped over it so it hung down her front… Giving himself a shake, Roy focussed on the music itself. It was hard to tear his thoughts away from Riza. The endearing way she reacted to his praise and the way she held herself… Not to mention the way she dressed. Equipped with a simple pair of skinny jeans and a hoodie, she'd been nothing that Roy had expected when he first laid eyes on her.
He hadn't even made breakfast as he listened. There were only four songs, but he'd taken a seat at the breakfast bar in his lavish kitchen, staring into space as he let the sounds wash over him. Only when silence filled his apartment did Roy realise it had finished. And that he hadn't moved for the whole time.
Riza's voice was incredible and he was smitten with it.
Shivering again in the chill morning air, Roy stood and hit play once more, moving back to the kitchen to make breakfast. It was almost ten am, late for breakfast for him, but on a Sunday, he made a note of turning off every alarm and letting himself sleep for as long as his body felt was necessary. It was a practice he'd adopted while touring since on Sundays he rarely had anything lined up, and if he did it would be a gig in the evening. It had kind of stuck throughout the years and it had become Roy's favourite day. It was a perfect way to recharge before the start of another hectic week.
He listened to that EP countless times before he left for the bar before midday. They opened at twelve on a Sunday and Roy had half a mind to play the EP over the sound system. He couldn't get enough of it. That voice… She could easily become extremely successful.
The iPhone ringtone interrupted his thoughts. Glancing to the right, his phone buzzed as it rang, a picture of his grinning long-time friend, Maes Hughes, popping up on the screen.
"Hey, Roy!"
"Hey, Maes."
"How was the act last night. The internet is all abuzz about it," he revealed, and Roy could hear the grin in his voice.
"She was incredible, Maes. How did you find her?"
"I can't reveal my secrets now, can I?" he chuckled. Roy didn't care though. He was just glad Maes had found Riza. "I'm glad it was a hit."
"It was more than a hit," Roy scoffed. "The whole place erupted. I've never heard the it so quiet during an act before. It was unbelievable."
Maes hummed through the phone. "I'm glad. I listened to some stuff digitally that her manager sent over, but it sounded a little off."
"You said she sounded good," Roy frowned.
"Oh, she definitely did. Her voice was phenomenal, but there were either some issues with the recording or something because I could've sworn I heard a car horn in there somewhere."
Roy smiled to himself, stomach flipping when he realised that he could pinpoint the exact song in which the car horn made its debut. "I spoke with Miss Hawkeye last night and she said she recorded her EP in her home, so that was probably why."
"Wow, that's real dedication. No studio?"
"Not that I know of. You'll have to ask her."
"Oh, I will. I know talent when I hear it and the world would be deprived greatly if we kept her voice from it." Roy couldn't agree more.
"You're going to offer her a deal?" Roy asked, mildly surprised. It wasn't unexpected, but this was Maes he was talking about. The man didn't offer a deal to just anyone.
"Of course," he replied as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. "I don't know how no one has snatched her up yet. But I want to hear her live first before we have that conversation. What would you say to me booking her again this weekend?"
"By all means. You're the head of live music."
"Yes, but it's your bar and I like to be polite."
Roy snorted. "We both know you've probably already been in contact with Miss Hawkeye and have offered her the slot."
The line was silent for a moment. "I tried but there was no answer."
"I'm pleased to know that my opinion comes second."
"Always," Maes quipped. "I have to go," he added. "I'll arrange things with Miss Hawkeye asap on Monday and get back to you." Roy could hear the excitement in his voice and Roy felt a thrill go through his own body at the prospect of hearing her sing again.
"Brilliant. Thanks, Maes."
"Anytime, Roy. Speak to you later.
"Bye."
Roy leaned back in his office chair, a grin on his face. He would get to hear Riza sing again, but also get to see her perform again. She was an absolute vision when she did so, and Roy was currently a sucker for it.
He dismissed the feeling of his stomach flipping pleasantly.
Riza pocketed her pay for the day and noticed there was already a note in her purse. Confused for a second, Riza stared at it, wondering where it had come from. At the end of each day she emptied her purse of notes and placed it in a savings jar. Every time she left the apartment she would dip into it, taking what she needed, and if it still had notes in it by Sunday, she took it to the bank on a Monday morning, if she could, and deposited it back into her account. It was an attempt at trying to save money, and it was currently working. It meant her bank balance was lowering throughout the week if she withdrew or spent too much, so she would begin to limit herself. If possible, those extra notes in the jar were deposited into her savings account. It was getting there, but she needed more if she wanted to eventually move out and buy her own house.
She was sure she'd put all her earnings from the bar last night into the jar that was hidden in the box underneath her bed, so where had this note come from? Five hundred cens… Where did she get five hundred cens from?
"Riza?" Izumi asked, watching her carefully. Riza noticed she'd been doing that more often lately. She knew Izumi was worried about her, but she needed the money. She couldn't pass up the overtime. "Are you okay?"
"Uh, yeah. I'm fine. Sorry, I spaced out there for a second."
Izumi narrowed her eyes. "You're taking tomorrow off."
"What?" Riza asked sharply, gaze snapping up to face her boss.
She nodded. "And Tuesday. I don't want to see you in this coffee shop until Wednesday at the very latest."
"But –!"
"Riza, I looked through the shift rotas for the last month. You have had two days off in four weeks and half of those shifts – that's fourteen – have been twelve-hour shifts. The rest have been ten-hours. That's against my policy."
"But –"
"You're burnt out. You need sleep. You need out of this shop and have some time to herself. I won't hear any arguments about it. From now on, you will only be allowed to work five days a week." Riza felt her stomach drop. "I need employees who are switched on. Even burnt out, you are one of my best, but I wouldn't be a very good employer if I let this become the norm, or let it go on for you. You need to take care of yourself, Riza," she urged, face becoming soft along with her tone.
"I can't though, you know that –"
"Because you are my longest standing employee and have never had a sick day or a holiday in the four years you've worked here, I will be taking the allocated six week's holiday pay you should have had in the last four years and adding it onto your wage. Congratulations, you've just had a pay rise."
Riza stood there, stumped. Mentally in her head she called upon the amount extra she would earn a month now with that holiday pay. She'd worked it out before but couldn't exactly remember the amount. She had a rough idea though. Adding that onto her current wage…
That was a lot more than she was being paid now. With that extra – now multiplied by four – it meant she could justify working only five days a week. And… It didn't necessarily mean she had to work twelve-hour shifts. She'd need to go home and figure it all out, but Riza was already feeling slightly giddy about the possibility. She felt tears begin to form in her eyes.
She must be really burnt out if she was about to burst into tears about the fact she might not need to work as much as she had been now.
In a surprising move, Izumi pulled her into a hug. "Go and take care of yourself, Riza. You deserve it more than anyone."
Nodding, still slightly in a daze, Riza left the shop, the note in her purse forgotten about. She didn't remember about it until she put away her guitar in the spare room from the night before. Her heart thudded in her chest as she remembered.
That was the note the manager of the bar had given her for her EP. Roy… She blushed at the thought of him. He was a very good-looking man. He was dressed well and had smelt incredible – obviously from wealth. And his smile… It had flipped her stomach pleasantly a few times. And the way he had complimented her singing and her performance, Riza couldn't help but blush. She'd been genuinely touched when he insisted on paying for her EP. It was terrible quality and, in all honesty, now, she felt kind of embarrassed about handing it over. Riza had told him not to judge it too much, and he said he was sure it would be perfect. He could have just been saying that to get a copy but was actually scoffing at it as he listened, already tossing it in the bin.
Riza gave herself a shake. Regardless of whether or not he'd been serious, that had been the first cens she'd earned from her music. Riza collected her purse as Hayate watched her every move from his spot in the couch. His ears were perked up, tail wagging back and forth languidly. She pulled the note out, holding it carefully in her hands.
It would be cringy as hell to frame it, but this was a big moment for her. And, Riza wasn't above doing something like that.
After placing it in a safe place – the same box that held the jar she stored all her left over notes in under her bed – Riza flopped down on the couch with a grin. Tomorrow – which was now her day off! – she would head into town and pick up a frame for her first note.
Hayate walked over and sat on her lap. Riza stroked his fur and scratched him behind the ears as once more, she let her thoughts run wild and think of Roy Mustang. She recognised the name, but for the life of her, couldn't place it. Rebecca had mentioned something about someone from that bar being famous, but Riza had been too tired to make sense of it. Had it been Roy? It wouldn't be too much of a stretch. His clothes screamed wealth – the extremely well fitted and smart suit had hugged every part of his body exquisitely, but it was his grin and excitement that had made Riza blush. He'd been so excited about her performance and Riza felt honoured. She was both touched and pleased someone had connected with her music in such a way.
That was all she ever wanted. That reaction was what made all her hardships worth it.
With renewed energy she eased Hayate off her then jumped to her feet. The spare room held her song writing notepad and she grabbed it eagerly, feeling very excited and inspired to try and churn out something new from her mind. It was always bursting with ideas but with her long hours she never had the time to jot them down fully. After work she was often so tired, she never bothered to do it then anyway, so disjointed notes meant wasted ideas. There were almost a hundred sticky notes tossed in a folder in the spare room – each with lyrics on them that came to her at work. Giving it a quick glance, she retrieved that too after a moment's consideration. Determined, she strode back to her couch and turned Spotify on her television, scrolling to her specially designed song writing playlist. It was full of instrumental pieces that hit her hard and Riza adored to listen to it when she tried to come up with new lyrics.
It was three hours later that she realised she hadn't eaten any dinner. Hayate's whining broke through her concentration and Riza jumped up, apologising profusely to her pup as she gave him his dinner.
The tiredness hit her when she'd cleaned out Hayate's food tin and placed it in the recycling bin. Opting to go for a takeaway, Riza called her favourite pizza place and ordered her usual. Ambling back into the living room, she stared at the pages of notes sprawled across her coffee table and felt an extremely proud and accomplished feeling begin to spread through her body. Grinning to herself, Riza had found her groove again after being too busy to write anything in over a year.
Things were beginning to look up for her.