Track #4: Love Song
Adele
The thunder roars like an angry god ready to bring forth calamity and devastation to humanity. The rain has not yet let up since morning and everything has been melding into gray and ash creating a dull and lifeless world.
His thick black coat had caught some of the droplets but he heeds no mind. Staring up, he welcomes the monotony of the weather.
Monotony.
He has been living in monotony for five years now. His hands still smell of paraffin, the heels of his shoes still have red stains on them.
With his fingers, he brushes up his raven locks away from his face only for them to go down instantly. This is hopeless.
He wants to laugh at the dark joke only he can understand but he doesn't. He is already insane inside, there's no need to let the world know about it.
When the water on the ground starts sipping into his insoles, he decides that it is time to finally go inside and face his greatest demon after a year of being away.
Demon. Really.
More like his only salvation in the dark world he had indulged himself.
He absentmindedly hands his coat to the waiting man by the door. The room is dark as usual, with only dim reddish and golden bulbs to provide what little of light.
Finding his usual table - the farthest from the stage and in the darkest part of the room, he sits down and feels the familiar smooth surface of the wooden table that had witnessed so many events that weren't allowed to be done in public.
A waiter appears before him with a bottle of his favorite wine and automatically pours him a glass. The bitter sweet aroma he had missed so much almost made him kneel.
"It's been a while, sir," the waiter greets him.
"How have you been, Jeremiah?" He takes a sip of his wine and immediately marvels on its exquisite taste.
"I'm doing fine. My wife had already given birth to a girl."
"Congratulations. What is her name?"
"Marybell, sir."
"Lovely name."
"Thank you. My wife was the one who thought of it."
Another customer calls Jeremiah's attention and the waiter politely excuses himself.
The man roams his amethyst eyes around the cabaret and notices that almost none has changed. Even the arrangement of the tables are still unchanged. The signature single rose which is the centerpiece of each table still stands ethereal and enchanting. A woman in a black dress gives him a once-over and a seductive wink. Another regular customer. He politely smiles.
Monotony indeed.
He gets his pistol from his pocket and lays it on the table. He does the same to his another caliber .45 gun and his knife. He lays them all on the table, all aligned, all just recently used. The scent of death still lingers on them.
The dim lights suddenly darken more as a spot light turns on at the stage revealing an emerald haired woman standing in front of a mic stand.
Red lips, red nails, red satin form fitting, off-shoulder dress, red stilettos. Long black eyelashes, prominent collar bones, hair curled and swept to one side, smooth fair skin.
A demon, indeed.
She's a demon tonight.
Leaning back on his chair, he lazily watches as her slender fingers wrap around the microphone and immediately thinks of how they were blissfully wrapped around him many times before. The sound of saxophone begins to reverberate as she hums along the seductive tune that captivates her audience. The crisp sound of the guitar adds flavor to the already rich melody of the two. From the corner of his eyes, he sees a man licks his lips while watching the siren before them.
"Hey, there lonely mister,
You who wear black from head to toe,
Will you tell me if you're a friend or foe?
Let my sad little heart actually know."
He automatically closes his eyes as her velvet voice invades all of his senses. Washing over him like cold water, her voice scrapes away the murder in his hands, the pitiful pleads of his target, the agonizing scream as he mindlessly pulled the trigger. He lets her thick but soft voice engulfs his mind into thoughts of pure serenity and freedom. Of ordinary picnics and simple dates. Of mundane talks and sound sleep. Of pleasured moans and entangled legs.
"Hey, there lonely mister,
How have you been?
You've travelled to unknown places,
And met new faces,
Yet you still wear your mask of sadness,
Yet you remain faceless."
A bitter smile plays on his lips. There's no way she knows that he is coming today yet the song speaks to his soul as if provoking him to stand in the middle and confess all his sins.
Opening his eyes, he finds her walking among the audience, giving seductive glances here and there but never lets anyone touch her. She doesn't allow anyone to touch her but him. Her hips sway, shamelessly inviting everyone to stare at them while occasionally biting her lips.
Such a tease.
He decides that it is time to make his presence known.
When she reaches the stage and returns the mic to the stand, he puts a cigarette between his lips and lights it up without taking his eyes off her slender yet curvy figure. It was always during the bridge unless she had already forgotten or...
Ah, she still remembers.
Her eyes slightly widen upon seeing their secret signal. She stumbles upon the lyrics but gracefully ad libs her way out of it. No one else notices but the two of them and in that moment, he thinks that this is worth it. Every torture and kill he had done and will be doing is worth it if he can occasionally come back to this place and witness the enchanting songstress make this small cramp room her own little palace with her captivating voice and hypnotizing movements.
He doesn't notice that the song has already ended until he sees her making her way to him. Upon reaching his table, she sits on the chair opposite of him without asking for permission and gets the cigarette from his mouth. Closing her eyes, she takes in a long drag, exhaling white thick smoke in the air.
"So, you're still alive, huh?" she says bitterly.
"I guess I am." He reaches out and holds her hand that lies on the table. The woman stares at it with disgust and shrugs it off. He smiles stiffly.
"You look beautiful."
"I am beautiful to begin with. What are you doing here?"
"I just finished a work. Thought I would drop by."
She scoffs. "For how long?"
"Three months. Perhaps, four."
"That's quite long it is suspicious." She eyes the weapons on the table but no fear could be found in her eyes - only hatred and irritation.
Lighting up another cigarette, he responds, "Well, it's someone famous this time so I need to lie low for a while. Anyway..." She watches him retrieve something from his pocket and when he places a red velvet box on the table and slides it to her, his companion visibly stiffens.
Opening it, her eyes widen for the second time upon seeing the diamond ring inside. "What is this?" she asks in shock.
"It's obviously a ring."
"I'm serious, Lelouch."
"I'm quite serious, too, C.C."
He watches her inspect the ring meticulously. Her golden irises roam every edge and corner of the 10-carat diamond that costed him almost half of his earnings.
"So you're proposing," she states as she looks at him through the jewelry.
He shrugs. "Something like that."
"Then I say 'no'." She slides the ring back to the surprised man and starts to leave.
"Wait, why?"
" 'Why?' I dont know, perhaps you suddenly disappeared for a year without any goodbye or warning, and without communicating during that period. I can't marry a man who could just up and go leaving me clueless for a long time and just return whenever it is convenient. I am not your 'rest house', Lelouch, that you can visit everytime you needed a break."
"You're not my 'rest house'. You are my home."
"Then prove it. You've got three months to show that you are committed to me." And with that, his almost fiancé leaves him on his own and performs a song about a heartless man who left his lover in a limbo after he had stolen and owned her heart.
Lelouch caresses the velvet box and starts to smile to himself. Looks like his monotonous life will be shaken up. Well, for three months or maybe four months at least.
On the other hand, he is looking forward for it to be permanently changed.