Chapter Text
Kaeya is one of a hundred other heads in the same auditorium but no one’s presence is equally as special as his. Except the clause is, Kaeya doesn’t know this either. He shifts awkwardly against the velvet of the chair, considering he couldn’t get one at the viewing room out of fear of being spotted by wealthy aristocrats. He looks out-of-place, though this definitely isn’t the first concert of Albedo’s he’s visiting.
The feeling of anticipation that builds up within him is not an easily replicated one, yet he feels the same way whenever he finds himself in the same auditorium, awaiting the presence of his same favourite person. Kaeya pushes the domino mask up onto his nose, glancing around surreptitiously, overly-conscious of anyone that might be looking at him. Kaeya’s heart stops at the shuffling of the curtains.
The chatter in the hall fades into silence. Kaeya straightens his back against the seat, fingers intertwined with each other as he watches intently. A wide stage is revealed, the glossy oak planks of the stage so bright, they look pearl white. A beat passes. Kaeya blinks and in the next second, he feels as if his breath has been stolen from him.
Albedo stands in front of him, center stage yet so close. Platinum hair dusts his shoulders lightly, half of it tied and braided into a ponytail. He has always been known for this signature hairstyle and Kaeya believes he’s the only one who’d look so good with a style so characteristically messy but perfect. Albedo’s arms are behind his back and his eyes flutter shut, disguising an almost luminescent azure. He bows.
Kaeya wonders how a musician ever gets used to the weight of a thousand eyes on them. Wouldn’t it be scarier for Albedo—? None of the eyes talk. Not a single sound. Still, Albedo stands again and turns on his heel, returning to the sole place he’s meant to be. The grand piano that sits center stage is still and majestic, a lot like Albedo himself. Maybe that’s why each location he performs has the classic white piano in his Albedo’s waiting. The pianist brushes himself lightly before he takes a seat, opening the case of the keys with delicacy. Click, and the hall is in enough awe for the sound to reverberate.
Albedo sits at the edge of the bench, arms straight out over the keys. A beat passes. Another goes by and Kaeya’s heart doesn’t calm. He reaches a hand over his chest, as if it would deafen the sound. Albedo’s finger sinks into the first key and Kaeya’s skin tingles. A familiar warmthness washes him over as Albedo runs his fingers expertly over the keys. His eyes fall shut and his lips are pursed, like he’s thinking. What could be on his mind? Kaeya finds it difficult to focus on anything in the world but the man in front of him.
Albedo’s fingers slide across the keys in a way that they look rhythmless and haphazard yet the music manifests as an ethereal melody. His posture is slouched like he has sunken into the chair, swaying lightly to his sound. Kaeya sits back against his chair, goosebumps prickling against his skin—he’s not so sure it’s because he’s cold. With the spotlight on Albedo, it has started to feel that it’s only him and Albedo, Albedo and him in the room. Every breath he takes is intangible and distinct, a crumpled kind of softness in all that happens around him.
Kaeya feels like if he reached out, Albedo would be right at his fingertips, somewhere in his reach. He wonders if he walked to the stage, would they have a connection? It’s a stupid thing to wonder, wondering if someone of Albedo’s calibur would ever had a relation to him. They exist in massively different universes, two that intertwine at the bare minimum that they’re musicians. Kaeya has never felt any more like he’s home when he’s at Albedo’s concerts.
Albedo runs his fingers over the notes lightly over the keys in legato play, notes smooth and connected. For a second, his eyes open slowly, like he’s just awoken from a trance. Blinding stage lights make it look like they’re shining. Albedo is the universe, a mosaic of the intagibly beautiful and inexplicable things, expressing himself as human for a little while so mortals can appreciate his craft.
Albedo’s fingers fall into a pause. He straightens his back and the auditorium is instantly overwhelmed with thunderous applause. The audience welcomes Albedo with a standing ovation but Kaeya takes a few extra moments to compose himself. Picking up his bouquet of cecilia lilies, he stands, staring proudly at Albedo. Joy, the same kind you’d feel during the achievements of someone special to you.
Albedo takes a bow, angling his jaw in Kaeya’s direction. For a brief second, Kaeya mistakes that they’ve made eye contact. Albedo promptly turns his head away, meandering off stage as the curtains draw. Kaeya fixes his tie, excitedly fishing out his exclusive backstage pass until he hears his phone rumble in his pocket. He jumps, face flushed in embarrassment as a couple of quizzical stares are shot in his direction. “What do you want—?”
“Kaeya Alberich!” Kaeya tenses at the sound of Eula’s stern voice on the other side of the phone. Eula can be a pretty fun manager on most occasions, nice on times that she rewards them with food after long performances—except, she hates taking their bullshit. It’s probably the only reason why his group is still in functional condition.
“Yes?” Kaeya speaks, trying his hardest to mask the fear in his voice. He glances towards the door backstage, eager to get back there and meet Albedo for the first time.
“Where the hell are you?! You have a performance in an hour and you still need to get your makeup done. Where has your stage outfit gone?!” she scolds.
“Wait, wait—I’m wearing it—” Kaeya lowers his voice.
“You’re wearing it?!” Eula bellows incredulously. As Kaeya tries to argue, Eula cuts him off, “Send me your location, I’m picking you up—”
“No, no, no,” Kaeya corrects. There’s no way in hell he’ll be able to explain to Eula why he’s been sneaking out to Albedo’s concerts during tour season. “I’ll be at the stadium in a bit,” Kaeya reassures, then nudged in the back by a passers-by. Eula hears him grunt, raising an eyebrow as she notes the cacophony of multilingual chatter around him.
“Are you somewhere crowded?”
“No,” Kaeya responds promptly. Hell, now he sounds suspicious.
“Whatever, if I don’t see you here in five minutes and find out you’re somewhere super far, I’m going to pick you up and you’re going to get into a shit ton of trouble,” Eula warns. Kaeya cuts the call, shoving his phone into his pocket. He bites his lip, eyes darting to his wristwatch as he’s hit with the dreadful epiphany that he won’t make it in time if he doesn’t leave right away. Kaeya calls out to one of the organising staff, handing him the bouquet of flowers with the simple request of passing it to his idol.
“Say it’s from Kaeya Alberich, thanks,” Kaeya winks, scampering out of the auditorium. The man blinks, eyes widening in shock upon recognising Kaeya’s identity. On the other hand, Kaeya tries his best to hail a cab for himself amongst the evening traffic. He’s pretty sure he uses up half of his five minutes trying to get a taxi, promptly asking the driver to get him to the location of the stadium. He sits back against the backseat, taking his mask off slowly. Kaeya lets out a huff.
Another opportunity passes and I haven’t met you yet. Kaeya closes his eyes lightly, nothing heard but the sound of the city’s fumbling.
He’s not ready to move again by the time he has reached the stadium. Fitting his mask onto his face again, he rushes out of the car and back around the corner to the back. He feels a couple of piercing gazes upon him, knowing just how much he stands out because of his cobalt blue hair. As he twists the knob of the backdoor, Eula yanks the door open. Kaeya lurches forward, flashing an awkward grin at his manager. Eula deadpans. “Took you long enough, I was going to drag your ass back here.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Kaeya apologises but Eula disacknowledges this and pulls him forward onto a couch where she instructs the makeup artists to assist him. Kaeya flicks the television on, hoping to see a view of the stadium or any news on what’s the situation with their fans, only to be surprised by a flash interview with Albedo. Kaeya sits up in attention, resisting the reflex to push away the staff who obstruct his vision with their makeup brushes and whatnot.
“So, Mr Albedo, fans have been curious about the pendant on your neck. They’ve noted its presence in all of your stage outfits, whether it’s an open-neckline suit or turtleneck. Many have been speculating that it’s from a significant other,” the TV show host interlocks her fingers, formally resting them against her knee.
Albedo nods, his expression still as always. “It was gifted by someone valuable to me from my past. Of course, I don’t have any ties with them currently but I consider it my good luck charm,” he explains. Tucking locks of his platinum blonde hair behind his ear, he fidgets with the chains of his pendant to take it in his hand. Kaeya watches intently on the other side of the screen, leg kicked over the other.
Lips pressed together tightly, he scrutinises the world-famous pianist as he holds the pendant on his palm. As the cameras zoom in, Kaeya sits forward in curiosity.
“You coming, Kaeya? Our show’s in a bit,” Childe peers his head through the door, fingers hooked around the door. Kaeya diverts his gaze away from the television, a look of confusion plastered on his face. He raises his gaze to the wall clock, scrambling to his feet immediately upon realising how little time he has to prepare. The staff scatter, his makeup artists standing back to make sure there aren’t any wardrobe errors.
“Oh shit, yeah,” Kaeya corrects, fixing the microphone around his neck. “My makeup’s good? It was rushed.”
Childe leans forward, scrutinising Kaeya’s makeup. “Mm, it’s good but where were you at? The members were hoping to catch you for a pre-performance practice.” Upon noticing Kaeya’s silence, Childe adds, nudging him playfully in the gut, “You go missing way too often. Why? You have a special someone, buddy?”
“Nothing important,” Kaeya dismisses and even then, he turns, noting how Albedo has already started to tuck the pendant into the cover of his shirt again. His heart sinks briefly in disappointment, not enough for him to realise. Flicking the television off, he struts towards Childe, wrapping his arm around the other male to divert his attention away. “You ready for today’s show?” Kaeya flashes an award-winning smile.
“Hell yeah,” Childe grins.