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Anti scowls as he walks through the bar doors and notices the lid to the piano - his piano, since no one else plays it - is shut. His eyes are drawn to Robin, the owner of the bar and his boss, as he walks over. The look on his face confirms Anti's suspicions.
"I'm going to have accompaniment?" he asks once Robin is close enough, annoyance barely kept out of his tone. Robin sighs the sigh of the long-suffering. Anti has to admit that he's impressed with the man's patience and willingness to let Anti keep his job with all his complaining.
"Yes, you are, and I hope you know by now that grumbling isn't going to get you out of it. I know you don't like it, but this man's been going round the towns, and word is that his voice is one of the best. Having him here will bring us a lot of business," he explains. His expression turns into a grimace as he watches Anti's scowl deepen, already expecting the answer.
"He's a singer?" Anti asks. Robin sighs again; he shares a far few of the problems that Anti has with singers. They're usually snooty and demanding, wanting everything to be perfect, or they expect to charm their way through anything. Anti also hates that they always want the spotlight on them, and since they're usually hanging around his piano as they sing, or, god forbid, on his piano, that means the spotlight lands on him as well.
"Yes, he is, but look, I've met him, and he seems decent. Humble. I'm not gonna say you'll like him, but I'm sure you'll prefer him to the other ones we've had." Anti huffs, but nods, and walks over to his piano to start looking over the sheet music left out for him.
It doesn't take long, since a few of the pieces are familiar, and the others are simple enough. What's interesting, though, is that they're all slow and gentle, melodies that he can picture wafting through the crowd, rather than demanding all their attention. Though, by the sounds of it, this singer attracts attention nonetheless.
He mentally shrugs it off, sitting down on the worn leather seat and setting up the sheet music of one of the new pieces. He'll have to double-check the tempo with the singer, but for now he can practise, and singers usually come up to him before long to make sure he plays exactly how they want him to.
His fingers settle on the ivory keys and it's easy to pull out the notes one by one, second nature by now. His eyes dart across the pages and he wonders what kind of tune will be playing on top of it. This one sounds a little more sultry, like something this singer would croon late in the evening. Maybe he'd even make eye contact with some of the ladies in the crowd, just to get a few giggles and whispers. Or he'd turn his attention to Anti, teasing him to try and get a smile or a rise out of him.
Anti sighs to release the annoyance building up at the memories and focuses back on the piece in front of him. Out of the corner of his eyes, he spots a figure approaching him, a pair of fidgeting hands coming into view. The figure - the singer, he assumes - clears his throat, and Anti gives him a nod of acknowledgement. He seems to be waiting for something else, but Anti continues with the piece, and after a moment, he speaks up.
"Is.. is it okay? I can change it to a song you're more familiar with if that's easier - not that I think you can't do this one! Or any of the others! I just know it's already a lot to ask, and I don't want to be a bother, and..." he trails off as one hand comes up to scratch the back of his head, "Ah, I'm rambling again, I'm sorry." He sticks his hand out, but something about it seems like he's not expecting Anti to shake it. That's a good start, at least.
"I'm Jack. I'll be singing tonight. I know this is all very last-minute, so I'm really sorry to disrupt your night. If there's anything I can do to help, just tell me," he says. Anti stays silent, letting the last few notes of the song hang in the air, before looking up at the man.
The first thing he notices is that he looks an awful lot like Anti himself. A few things are different, though; the pale skin unblemished with freckles, the deep brown of his hair, and the piercing blue of the eyes staring back at him. The second thing he notices is Jack's expression falling as the seconds pass by with his hand hovering in the air. Anti reaches out and shakes it once, muttering his own name. He turns back to the piano and gestures towards the music on the stand.
"Do you want me to change anything?" Jack's eyes widen incredulously.
"No, not at all! Your playing was beautiful!" he sputters, and before he can work himself up again, Anti holds up a hand.
"I mean," he says, the corner of his mouth quirking up, "is there anything you want me to do that isn't on here?" Realisation dawns on Jack's face, and a pretty pink blush creeps onto his cheeks.
"No, no, I don't need anything like that, thank you, I - oh, that sounds so conceited, what I mea-"
"Jack," Anti cuts in. Maybe Robin was right. Maybe this one isn't so bad. Especially as his blush deepens and he gives Anti a sheepish smile.
"Sorry, I'm just... nervous about tonight," he admits. He looks down and picks at a loose thread on his shirt. Anti isn't sure why he isn't hurrying off to get ready, but he shrugs it off and sets up the next song's sheet music on the stand. Jack looks up at the rustling of paper.
"Are you practising the other songs? Is... Is it okay if I listen?" he asks tentatively. Anti gives him an odd look, but nods. Jack moves closer, and he glances down at the piano.
"Could I lean on here?" Anti can't hold back a more startled look, almost impressed with this boy's manners, and he nods again with a grunt. Jack carefully places his arm on the polished wood, tracing a line he finds with his fingers.
"This is beautiful," he whispers under his breath. His head jerks up as if he just remembered that Anti was still there, but he seems relieved when Anti hums in agreement.
"Is it walnut?" he asks as he looks down again, becoming entranced in the patterns.
"Cherry." Jack nods, and for a few moments Anti simply watches him study the surface of the piano. He seems to have a respect for the instrument that Anti hasn't seen in a long time. He appreciates it, just as much as he finds himself appreciating the slow part of Jack's lips. He's being an idiot. After tonight, Anti will never see Jack again. A small part of him tells him that that means he should make use of the time he has.
Jack looks up again, and thankfully Anti is back to looking at the piano by then. His cheeks darken again, and he glances towards the sheet music.
"I'm sorry, I'm distracting you." Anti doesn't answer, only tears his gaze away and focuses back on the music. This song sounds sweet, a little more upbeat than that last one, and from what Anti remembers, it's one of the first of the set. He takes the risk of glancing over to Jack as he plays. The boy has his eyes closed, his lips moving just slightly, and Anti has to fight to not be utterly transfixed.
Jack stays for a few more songs, until a woman holding a can of hairspray joins them and pulls him away. He gives Anti an apologetic smile over his shoulder and before he can stop himself, Anti returns it.
It's much later in the evening, once the bar has been filled with people and chatter and the smell of booze, that Jack returns to him. He's wearing a suit now, one that fits him snugly, and his hair is artfully arranged, rather than the fluffy mess it was before. Anti tries not to think about running his hands through it and messing it up all over again.
He smiles widely as he catches Anti's eye, giving him a cheesy thumbs up as he stops by the piano. Robin follows him and walks up to the microphone that was set up long before. He gives a signal to Ethan up in the control booth. A bright spotlight shines down on him, and as he tests the microphone with a few taps, the bar starts to hush.
"Welcome, everyone!" he greets, getting a cheer out of the audience. It never really fails to impress Anti how quickly Robin can get along with any crowd.
"Tonight, we have a little something special for you in the way of entertainment. Not that our dear Abél isn't already special, of course," he continues, gesturing to Anti, who gives him an eye roll in return, "We have a visitor from out of town, someone so mysterious that we only know him by one name. For one night only, we have Jack!" The bar erupts into cheers, and Robin leaves the stage free for Jack, who approaches the microphone with a shy smile. He thanks Robin and Anti before nodding towards the latter, and he takes that as his cue to start.
When Jack starts singing, Anti has to lock his eyes to the keys in an attempt to not stop playing altogether. The boy's voice is beautiful, and the sweet melody he sings seems to enchant the audience as well as Anti himself. As the set goes on, and the songs get even slower and softer, his spell grows stronger. There's polite clapping between each song, but once Jack lets go of the final note of the final, lullaby-like song, Anti is nearly deafened by applause. Jack bows with a wide smile, but as the spotlight shuts off and the lights return to normal, he practically slumps over the microphone.
Ethan plays some music over the speakers to give Anti's hands a rest as usual, but before Anti can get up to see if Jack is alright, he looks up and gives him a tired smile.
"So, Abél, huh? I did wonder. 'Anti' isn't exactly common," he teases as he walks over. He leans on the piano again, but Anti can tell he's holding back from putting his whole weight on it, and even though he appreciates it, Jack looks exhausted. He hums and lifts an eyebrow.
"And Jack seems all too common." Jack huffs out a laugh and tilts his head in a "you got me there" gesture. Anti smiles in amusement. He then does something that surprises even himself, and he taps the lid of the piano.
"You can sit up here if you want, or lie down. It's not that comfortable, but you've been on your feet for a while." Jack stares at him, but he gives an insistent nod towards the piano, and Jack carefully lifts himself onto it. He sighs in relief and twists to face Anti. He lowers himself down onto his elbows and the position can't be comfortable, but Jack seems content to idly watch him from over the paper.
"It's Seán," he mutters, so quietly that Anti wonders if he actually heard anything. Jack catches his confused look and lifts himself a little higher so Anti can see his lips.
"My name is Seán. It's... simpler, to go by Jack. Easier to keep moving," he explains. There's a sadness in his tone, but by the way Jack avoids his eyes, Anti figures it's better not to point it out.
"Seán," he repeats, and he likes the way the boy's name sounds. Jack nods, and the smile he gives Anti makes his heart flip. He turns to look at the microphone wearily, and Anti snorts, knowing that Jack is meant to be singing again soon, to join Anti in creating background music for the bar. He reluctantly starts to sit up, but Anti quickly pulls him back down. With a stretch, he gets up and pulls the stand over, taking the microphone off and handing it to Jack.
"Pick out a song, and tell me when you're ready to start," he says as he sits back down. Jack hums a little sleepily, and he looks over the setlist. He picks one out, and Anti quickly sets up the sheet music as Jack sits up properly. He gives the control booth a little wave, and the music fades out as Anti starts playing.
They're both quiet, no longer claiming the attention of the whole bar, but a few people glance their way as Jack starts to sing again. It's one of the songs from later in his set, one that Anti swore he might fall asleep to. He knows the boy's voice will haunt him even after he's long gone, and he can't help but wish that Jack will come back to haunt him too.
Jack picks out a few more songs to bring them late into the night, and Anti notices that some people only leave at the end of each one, with a few reluctant glances towards Jack. He knows exactly how they feel. As Anti lets the last chord of a song ring in the air, Robin approaches them. He doesn't point out where Jack's sitting, but Anti can bet he'll get teased about it later.
"Hey, you two. You've been amazing, but it's late and there's only a few people hanging around. You can head off if you want and get your rest. Jack, you've got to be heading off again tomorrow, right?" he asks. Jack hums and nods, and Anti tries not to look too bothered by it.
"Thanks, Robin. You've been a wonderful host, seriously. I've just got one more song, then I'll let your equally wonderful pianist go. If... that's okay with you?" he asks as he turns to face Anti. In reply, he pushes the setlist over, and Jack smiles. This boy is going to be the death of him.
Robin looks between with curiosity, but he gives them a quick nod.
"Sure, that's absolutely fine." As he walks off, Anti turns his attention back to Jack, who seems to be scouring the setlist for something in particular. He makes a quiet "ah!" sound when he finds it, and holds the paper up to Anti, pointing at a song.
"Can we do this one?" he asks. There's something almost giddy about him, like he's excited for something, but Anti shrugs it off as he gets the music ready. He vaguely recognises the song, but it's been a long night. It has a long introduction, he remembers that at least, and as he starts playing, Jack lays back onto the piano.
He starts singing after a moment, and Anti's breath catches in his throat. His voice is not so much sultry as downright sinful, and when Jack looks over at him, it feels like it's a concert just for him.
"How do you want me?" Jack sings, and Anti can't tear his eyes away. He'd already seen how that nervousness fell away as soon as he started singing at the beginning of the night, but then Jack looked more relaxed, as if he was just singing in his bedroom. Now, though, Jack is practically purring the words, and he's staring right at Anti with a grin playing around his features.
As the chorus ends, Jack looks up at the ceiling, and Anti takes the time to let out the breath he didn't realise he was holding. He tries to focus back on the piano, but Jack draws his attention again before long.
"I want to feel you, I want it all," he sings as he catches Anti’s eye again, and he starts to reach towards him before draping his arm across the piano. He reaches above his head, lifting his shirt just enough to expose a thin line of skin. Anti's torn, wanting to watch this little show that Jack's giving him forever, and wanting this song to end so he can find out if Jack wants more than a show.
When it finally does, Anti stands up almost immediately. He doesn't plan on going anywhere, but Jack's hand at his chest keeps him where he is anyway.
"Abél," he starts, and the way his voice curls around the name already sends a shiver down Anti's spine, "Can I go with you back to your place?"
"I thought you'd never ask," Anti mutters as he takes Jack's hand, and the boy's pleased laughter rings in his ears as he leads them out.