To the rich and famous, the underground cabaret was a weekend getaway. From their daily lives of monotony, the 'usual,' and even the mind-numbingly humdrum throes of wealth, they come each time, looking for a way to relax and socialize. A private lounge hosting a variety of shows to those willing to pay top dollar for them, Friday nights that showcased one of the most skilled, well-known singer in Vale… To get away from the agonizing duties of executive, white-collared work; this place was where they went.
With crimson undertones and sensual overtones, the lounge's layout consisted of a back bar, dim but tastefully lit with prime selections, designed to call out to you but never to grab your attention from the main stage. Scattered around a small stage that featured a large grand piano tonight were dark mahogany tables, lined with expensive drinks and gourmet foods; there was no shortage of cold hard cash. The wrists and elbows of the ridiculously wealthy and circumstantially pompous pressed lightly against the table cloths, enjoying their night to the fullest extent.
A mix of high and low key tones echoed through the lounge, a wistful voice permeating the atmosphere with melodic notes. The night was in full swing, and the main attraction was in the middle of a powerful ballad. The crowd was hypnotized by this perfect combination of piano and voice, and nary a movement could be seen around the room when she sang.
"She's good tonight," a patron commented offhandedly to the bartender as she poured him a drink.
The bartender replied in earnest, "She's good every night." Topping off the mixed drink with a cherry, she gave him a small smile for good measure. A girl had to make her tips, after all.
The gesture was fruitful, as the patron smugly breathed out a laugh and handed her a crisp $20 bill and returned to his table.
The bartender rolled her eyes and slipped the bill into her apron, resuming her cleaning.
The song continued with a melancholic drawl, one that filled the hearts of the patrons with a regretful ache. The dull, throbbing lull of sadness chipped away at content minds, and the tendrils of love long lost crept into the souls of those spending their nights with the cabaret; it's all very standard, when you think about it. The "I-love-you-but-you-don't-love-me" scenarios make for easily the sappiest songs out there. The singer thought so too.
Up on stage, the alabaster-haired singer let the song flow through her throat and across the room, putting on the performance of a heartbroken girl who wished for her former lover. She let the emotion of the song take her over, drowning in the throes of feeling as many artists do; though the façade of heartbreak was merely for show. She was actually marvelously pleased, excited that such a powerful song could be sung from her own being, falling in love with the melody's ability to sway human emotions so greatly.
The girl herself had a thinner build, her thighs covered with a white skirt beneath a silver and white shawl that draped over her body. She sat with one leg propped up over the other on a small stool, donned by a single spotlight in front of a microphone. She wore her hair down tonight as it flowed gently over her shoulder. The pianist wore a shorter, brown haircut with a slightly longer fringe down the right side. She dressed for the occasion, never missing the opportunity to show off her brilliant sense of fashion, or so she claimed it to be.
Occasionally, the singer eyed her pianist with fervor, silently praising her for accompanying so well and keeping the pace without fail. The pianist gave her a similar look, but ultimately turned her attention back to the keys.
The night went on like this for about an hour, well into the swing of things. The singer paused only for water breaks and breaths of relief. In reality, she didn't particular enjoy performing for the people that came to see her. She simply did it to enjoy the feeling she garnered when she was able to sing with the piano, with all her heart and soul.
It's not like the masses didn't let themselves be drawn into the singer. It was no difficult task enrapturing them. She hadn't sung for any other type of audience before, so perhaps this was all she knew, but it mattered little. She could make her own money and do what she loved at the same time, even if it bored her from time to time because the lounge rarely let her shake things up.
A bit after the start of her next song, some of her attention was drawn to the front of the lounge near the entrance, two stragglers having walked in rather late. For a moment, the enigmatic nature of one such walk-in caught her eye; but it was truly only for a moment. She figured they were a couple of regulars who didn't care to catch the entire performance. Which was completely fine with her.
Her focus returned to her song and the reactions she would get therein. Curiously, the two girls did spend a good amount of time chatting with the bartender, which she had never seen before. Even more curiously, one of the patrons was a Faunus, and not that she had any particular problem with Faunus, per se, it just… She certainly wasn't used to seeing them at the lounge other than to work, that's for sure.
She had to backtrack. She wanted to believe she didn't have a problem with Faunus, though she was brought up in a way that instilled a very strong prejudice against them. She was momentarily disenchanted to have a thought of distrust.
The singer had realized that she actually was paying more attention than she would have liked to the pair of girls, only because they behaved in ways that weren't native to the lounge's normal occupants. They occasionally got up to move closer, pushed each other's shoulder every so often, and… She could have sworn the blonde one kept winking at her each time they'd made eye contact, but perhaps she was imagining things. Nevertheless, she wanted to roll her eyes at the interaction.
The end of the night couldn't come soon enough, and the singer went through her routine of thanking the audience subtly before retiring backstage. The pianist followed suit, choosing a tiny, silent bow over any sort of vocal interaction. She met up with the singer backstage, finding the girl leaning against the armrest of a couch, taking sips of water from a glass.
"Impressive as usual, Weiss."
The singer spared a quick glance to her pianist and flashed a small smile, "You as well. Did you happen to notice the two women that kept moving around? Have you seen them here before?"
The pianist chuckled before grabbing her handbag off a nearby table, "I thought those two were a bit scraggly-looking. The blonde had an absolutely horrid fashion sense and her kitten counterpart played the broody role a little too well. I don't know who let them in, but it was clear they couldn't possibly have done it on their own."
Coco Adel had grown up by the reigns of a controlling set of parents, always flaunting their wealth and their status to the world. They had taught her that there was no better place to be than the upper-class, and there was no shortage of belittling opinions about anyone that wasn't in their dollar range. Their influences had rubbed off on the girl; but her piano playing was astounding, and it was often the fact that she was misjudged in character for her passion. It's not as if Coco was a nasty person.. Weiss just thought she was a little too proud to admit that she thought she was better than most people.
"That's not really what I meant, Coco. But it's true that the blonde was a little.. unkempt. Plus, the Faunus girl? Since when has the lounge let them in as patrons?"
"My my, judgy, are we?"
Weiss shot up off the couch, "I-I'm not—!"
"Calm down, Miss Schnee, I'm just—" Coco inched closer to Weiss and pulled her in for a quick kiss, "… Joking with you."
Weiss inhaled to speak, but the words were stolen from her mouth. Though her heart skipped, it soon slowed down to speed all the same. She crossed her arms and spun away from the pianist, "Let's just drop it."
The singer had reservations about her involvement with her pianist. The relationship was often volatile, on top of being secretive. Perhaps, Weiss would fail to admit, that it was even a little manipulative at times, but she truly believed she wouldn't let herself be taken advantage of. She very much cared for Coco deeply, and she felt like there weren't many things she'd do for her.. But even that felt forced. She was afraid to face this fact.
There was a silence that hung in the air like a miasma; it could choke you if you weren't careful.
"Weiss, there's something I wish to discuss with you."
She looked back at the pianist with a concerned but hardened look.
"It's about our… Partnership."
a/n: hi hello im back; sorry this one's short. i hope to space out the chapters so i can upload more frequently. please tell me how it's going!