AN: the cutenesssss of these two is off the charts they're going to be so in love it's going to be beautiful
i'm so excited about it lmao but can you blame me angst is my life this is a nice change
if you can't get excited by your own fics then what can you get excited for lmao
Saturday was a hit, as Roy suspected it would be. He couldn't help but grin as he watched Riza perform, finding himself completely taken with her once again. Disregarding his budding feelings for the singer for the moment, Roy was once again in awe as she sang into the near silent bar, everyone's attention completely focussed on her. He'd never had this reaction with any of the acts he'd put on before. Couples swayed in time with the music, the gentle plucking of the guitar strings washing over them, leaving content sighs of people in love as they gazed into each other's eyes. Even a few had begun to slow dance in the centre of the room. When Riza noticed, Roy didn't miss her pleased smile before she closed her eyes again, concentrating on delivering the music that stirred feelings in Roy's own gut.
He just wondered if she felt something similar too.
His plan tonight was to try and catch her for a conversation again. Where that would lead them, Roy didn't know, but he wanted to ask her out for a drink, and what better place to do that than his own bar? A thank you for another enchanting performance.
Roy weaved through the applauding audience and made his way backstage, arriving just as Riza stepped through the curtain. She spotted him and grinned, her eyes crinkling at the edges again in the way that he'd discovered he loved.
"You were fantastic," he praised. Again, she was wearing a hoodie and a pair of jeans, although this one was pale pink in colour and matched her hair and complexion perfectly. Her hair was tied up in a high ponytail, the long golden tresses hanging over her shoulder. She was stunning. "Although, I expected nothing less," he added with a cheeky grin.
Riza placed her guitar down, leaning it against the steps up to the stage. "Thank you, Roy. You're too kind."
"I mean it, everyone loves you. You've got so much potential." The blush was back on her cheeks and Roy was pleased he was the one that had put it there. It was always a beautiful sight. "Have you ever thought about going pro?" he ventured, a friendly question and nothing more.
Riza shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I love performing," she explained. "It's my favourite thing to do in the world."
"So, why not just go for it?" Roy asked after she didn't continue. His voice was soft as he led her further backstage and away from the continued clapping so they could hear each other better.
"I don't know…" she trailed off, suddenly sounding very disheartened. "Easier said than done, right?" Her face fell slightly, and Roy was curious as to why.
"I –" Roy began, but was cut off as Maes breezed backstage and grinned at Riza.
"Riza! You were even better than Monday. I don't know how that is possible, because you were already astounding, but it happened! Now, I have a few propositions to offer you, if you would be interested?" he asked, waiting for her answer expectantly.
"Oh, uh, I…"
"It doesn't have to be today," Roy intervened, noticing how her usual spark had left her and she didn't seem as excited about the prospect of coming to an agreement about playing here as she had been on Monday when Maes had first mentioned it. "It's already late." It was, the live music finished at midnight with last orders being called at the end of it. "We can arrange it another time, if you'd prefer." Her gaze met his and there was a lingering sadness in those relieved eyes, as she nodded in agreement.
"That… would be preferable. Thank you. Sorry, I'm just going to get organised then head home." She offered them a forced smile. "It's been a long week," she chuckled, but there was a nervousness to it.
Was it something he said?
The two men watched her pick up her guitar and head to what Maes had dubbed "the green room" – basically just a space where the acts could get changed and organised to go on stage.
"Was it something I said?" Maes asked, mirroring Roy's early concerns.
He shrugged. "I don't know. She was fine when she came off stage."
Maes gave him the side-eye. "Was it something you said?" he accused light-heartedly.
Again, Roy shrugged. "I really don't know. I don't think so."
Maes looked between Roy – who was still looking at the door Riza had left through – and said door, before quietly nodding to himself. "I'll go and get her payment for the night."
"Thank you, Maes."
Roy's brow furrowed. He found himself not liking the way her face fell and the brief sadness he had seen in her eyes. He wanted her to be happy – as happy as she was when she bantered with the audience onstage. Seeing her sad was not something he enjoyed. And Roy wanted to make it right, but he was a stranger, technically. What could he do? He knew nothing about her and her reasons for shutting him out so suddenly.
Riza still hadn't exited the green room when Maes returned, so Roy approached the door and gave it a gentle knock.
"Riza?" he called out. "I've got your payment here for the night." There was no answer and Roy swallowed, beginning to feel concerned. However, the door opened just before he was about to call out again. He blinked as he stared at her, noticing she looked like she was back to her normal self. She smiled at him and took the offered envelope with a thank you.
"Sorry, I would love to stay longer but its been a long week and I've got quite a bit of a drive back to my apartment. Plus," she chuckled. "Little Hayate can't be left too long. I dread to think about the destruction he would cause in the house if he got too bored."
Roy blinked at her again, taken aback by the sudden switch in her demeanour. Had he just imagined it before?
"Listen," he began. "If I said something earlier to offend you, I'm really sorry, it wasn't my intention –"
Her eyes widened. "Oh, no! No, not at all! It was nothing like that," she reassured him with a smile, but again, it looked slightly forced. It looked too bright and reassuring. "Sorry, I… Well, let's just say that's always been the dream but I've had obstacles in my path before so it just… hasn't happened yet. It was just a surprise, that's all." Her expression and tone seemed genuine enough, so Roy accepted it for what it was and let out a quiet breath of relief. Riza chuckled to herself, voice turning wistful. "In all honesty, I've been working towards it for so long that it still feels unobtainable."
Roy was silent as he watched Riza give herself a shake, turning her smile back on him. "Okay, sorry about that," he replied sheepishly, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck. It was a habit he picked up as a teenager when he was nervous, and he still hadn't broken out of it. "And don't worry. You'll get there, for sure." Roy vowed to himself he'd make that happen. That's why he'd started the whole live music thing, wasn't it? To give unknown artists and a platform and to give them a chance to show the world what they were capable of.
"Thank you," Riza smiled. "Honestly, it's okay, it wasn't you," she reassured him, placing a placating hand on his arm. His stomach flipped at the contact. Oh god, this was escalating faster than he wanted it to.
"Okay, I'm glad," he stated, almost stuttering over his words. Her hand was still on his arm, her warmth seeping through his skin. They were soft against his skin, her touch welcoming and warm. Oh, how glad he was that he'd rolled the sleeves up of his shirt earlier because of the heat.
"I better get going. I've got a little pup to get back to," she added, removing her hand. For a brief second he thought he saw her eyes widen, as if just realising where her hand was.
"Will I see you again?" he blurted out before he could stop himself. Oh my god, it was getting worse.
"I…" her expression softened, her smile reaching the corner of her eyes as she'd turned and looked back at him. "I would like that."
Roy let out a breath and nodded, unable to keep the smile off his face. "I'll walk you out."
"Oh no, it's all right, that's not necessary –"
"Please, Riza. I insist."
"All right," she agreed almost shyly.
At the back door of the kitchens he watched as she approached her car – an old looking thing that looked like it could use some work on it. However, like her, it was endearing. Roy noticed small black Shiba plushie sitting on the parcel shelf. The sight of it made Roy smile.
He waited for her to pull away, waving as she disappeared around the corner and into the street. With a content sigh, he re-entered the bar, his happiness at the prospect of seeing her again overriding his embarrassment of just blurting his question out like a teenager.
When Riza entered her car – it had been parked in the car park around the back of the bar – she closed her eyes briefly and lay her head back against the headrest. She couldn't believe she'd let herself slip like that. Roy had asked a simple question about her future and she'd seized up, her mind casting her back into memories of her father yelling at her about how she would never be good enough to go pro and how it was just a waste of time, that she should give up her silly dream and get a real job.
Riza reversed out of the space and began the hour-long car journey home.
Looking in the rear-view mirror she was very surprised to see Roy waving her off with a smile and her stomach flipped pleasantly from his attention, as it always did whenever she'd been around him since they met.
On the way home she contemplated her current situation and Roy's question. She hadn't lied. It always had been her dream. That's why she'd been kicked out her house in the first place. Berthold Hawkeye introduced her to music lessons when she was eight – the same year her mother died – probably so he could use it as an excuse not to look after her for a couple of hours. She hated it at first, but the teacher was kind and understanding of the child's loss, turning the lessons into a therapy session rather than learning how to play the piano.
Every Saturday she would spend at least four hours at the kindly old Mrs. Rockbell's house to learn piano and the violin, before eventually settling on her favourite, the guitar. As she'd grown older and her father no longer wished to waste money on her learning "such a trivial skill", Riza took her own interest and continued the lessons for her own enjoyment, because she grew to love it. Not only did she find a passion for music through those lessons, she also found a way to be free from her father for a couple of hours a day. Music had become her therapy, a way to cope with the loss of her mother and her father's abandonment.
That's why she'd found so much companionship in Hayate because, just like her, he'd been cast out and left in the cold. She couldn't bring herself to let the poor little guy suffer anymore. She knew exactly what that was like and wouldn't wish it on anyone.
As she pulled onto the motorway to get out of town Riza shook her head of thoughts of her father. For too long that man had held control over her, tried to crush her dreams, and hold her back in the cage that was their family home. Him kicking her out had been a blessing. It was a struggle to keep up with rent – especially with the amount she put into her savings every month – but she did it because even if she was poor, or even homeless, she would take that life over returning to her father.
That's why she wanted to go pro so badly. She wanted to prove to him that she could do this – she could put the time and effort in to make a living off doing something she loved. It sure beat living in the dilapidated house back east with a recluse of a father who treated her like she was dirt on the underside of his shoe.
She wasn't in it for the money – although it was a nice perk – she was in it for sharing her stories and emotions with the world. She remembered taking one of her late mother's CDs after falling in love with music, about six months after starting lessons, and listening to it on repeat every night as she fell asleep. It was an instrumental soundtrack, but her mother would play it every morning and hum along while making breakfast. As Riza listened it reminded her of her mother, but she would also make up stories in her head about what was happening in each piece. The slow, sad ones which were filled with strings and sombre beats would tell the story of losing someone – which hit Riza incredibly hard, especially in the beginning – while the upbeat, plucking strings and thumping drumbeats would tell the stories of parties and merriment – something she craved more than anything as a lonely child.
Riza wanted to have her chance to tell her stories to the world.
And while she would absolutely love to sing professionally, she did hold reservations about it. They came in the form of the large corporations that controlled music nowadays. She didn't really listen to anything from the last two decades. They were too mass produced and churned out to suit the tastes of focus groups. There was no soul to them, no feeling. Occasionally a gem would get through, and Riza would fall in love with it.
She didn't want to lose the soul of her music, that's why she held back. Rebecca pushed her and promoted her no end, but Riza was reluctant to sign with anyone. She wouldn't until she thoroughly researched the company and listened to the other artists they managed. Only then, would she make her decision.
Was it excessive? Maybe. But because this dream was held so near and dear to her heart after everything she'd went through in life, Riza just didn't want to ruin it.
She'd had enough of that in life already.
It was around one thirty by the time she arrived home. As promised, Rebecca had stopped by and fed Hayate. He greeted her happily with a bark, tail wagging furiously as she bounded across the room to the door.
"Hey, bud," Riza greeted with a chuckle, placing her guitar by the door. She crouched, giving him scratches and rubbing his belly. "Were you a good boy for Rebecca?" she asked.
He rolled onto his belly, bright eyes looking up at Riza's. Her heart swelled with love for her dog, unable to resist the urge, Riza took a seat right by the door and lifted him onto her lap, petting his fur and laughing quietly at his happy reaction to the attention.
"Come on, Hayate. Let's get ready for bed," she yawned loudly, standing up and stretching. Hayate excitedly paced in front of her, waiting to see which way she would go so he could follow at her heels.
Riza's phone buzzed once on the bedside table while she was getting ready for bed, so she didn't hear it go off. After settling into bed with Hayate curling against her side and sighing happily, she reached over and picked it up to turn it off for the night. When she saw the notification for a text, her brow furrowed in confusion. Who would be texting her at this time of night? Curious, she opened it.
Hey, Riza. It's Roy Mustang, from Ignis. Maes passed on your number – I hope you don't hate him too much for that.
Just wanted to thank you again for tonight and I hope everything is all right. I sincerely look forward to the next time you play for us. It would be a crime if you didn't ; )
Despite leaving so abruptly and in such a hurry, excitement coursed through Riza when she saw who the text was from. Her heart thudded in her chest and she sat up, jostling Hayate who whined in response.
"Sorry, boy," she replied distractedly, gaze scanning over the message once, twice, and a third time to see if what she was seeing was correct.
Roy had text her, at two am, to ask if she was okay and to thank her for performing tonight after asking hurriedly if he could see her again before she left. And, was he… flirting with her? That little winking face at the end made her stomach do backflips.
Riza sunk down in her pillows, her earlier mood forgotten as a warmth coursed through her veins and spread pleasantly across her chest. A smile spread across her face as she handled her phone carefully, reading the message a fourth and final time.
Perhaps things weren't going to be so bad starting up this partnership. She could be paid to perform on a regular basis, and she could get to know Roy Mustang better, something she wanted to do very badly.
Hey, Roy. Everything is fine, honestly. Sorry for the quick disappearing act. It would be an honour to play at your bar again and I look forward to the next time I do.
And it's fine, I don't hate Maes too much right now. Ok, maybe just a little.
Two could play at this flirting game.
With a grin she turned her phone off and settled into bed, snuggling happily against Hayate, the warmth Roy's text brought her still not leaving just yet. Since she'd turned her phone off, she didn't see that he'd replied again until morning, telling her not to apologise for anything and wishing her a good night's sleep.