Work Text:
You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be here. The rain didn’t seem to damper down the enthusiasm in the air, barely muffled by the downpour. You readjusted the mask on your face, befitting of a masquerade as your coworker beckoned you to come closer.
“Dude, it is going to be legendary tonight.” You could feel the energy rolling off of his person, enough to be contagious as you chuckled, albeit quiet amongst the wolves, lions and all the predators of the dark.
"I still don't get it." You rolled your eyes, earning a shove in the shoulder as your comrade spluttered in disbelief.
"Bro, are you slacking off during briefing?"
You wouldn't admit it of course, not with your boss within earshot.
"Of course not! I am just wondering what's all this ruckus about? From all I can see, it's just an exclusive club." Like VIP membership, you mused.
"I don't think you quite understand." Your boss pinched in. His voice was still husky and low, but you could sense the slightest interest in them, enough to make you straighten your back. You allowed your eyes to trail to the black umbrella he carried, watching as it fell into a series of rhythmic taps against the concrete. "This is the Syndicate we are talking about... and tonight, their songbird is about to sing."
You didn't quite understand, but you followed anyways. You shuffled inside the exclusive club, past the pale blonde guard who barely raised his head to glimpse at you. Fair, you supposed, as there were always dangers in seeing more than one should.
The air felt cold, sending a chill down your spine. Entering the dim room was like entering another world, slightly out of place, as if a pocket of dimension had been cut off and delicately placed into your plane of existence. It was the type of wrongness that made you feel unreal; cradled in everything that was but a fabrication of reality.
You could spot the stage in the middle of the room, lined by golden tint that was illuminated by the lone spot light. There were shadows moving behind the curtains as a couple of workers scouted and patrolled the perimeter of the stage.
"Now, there are some rules that we need to follow here."
Your boss spoke after you and your colleagues were led to a private sitting by an abnormally tall waiter. Your interest perked, for your boss was always one to break the rules rather than follow them. Such was the life of the lawless after all. Hence, it interested you somewhat, to know what rules were so important that your boss seemed inclined to reinforce.
"First, no conflict. That means no stirring up troubles here." At that, you could hear a few snickers as the boys nudged at one another, only to halt at the warning glare your boss shot at them. You gulped.
"Second, there will be neither sabotages or damages to the property." Understandable, you wouldn't dare to deface the place, as a sense of pristine holiness seemed to be ever present.
"Last but not least..."
The room fell into darkness and you felt your heart fall along with it. For a moment there, your instinct coiled up, readying yourself for an ambush that never came. Instead, the stage light sparked to life, revealing a lean figure perching upon a golden throne.
As if a holy ray had descended from the heaven above, you could only gape as the light accentuated the golden strands of the singers. Brighter than any gold you had seen... until the eyes opened.
And your breath left. You had seen your fair share of jewellery, be it along the line of the business you were engaged in or the generous share from your boss, yet none could quite compare with the shade of emerald, like the heart of the sea that reflected the lush life on the surface. The first note left his lips as lanky fingers dragged along the golden stand.
It was as if space itself was contorting, spiralling into a new reality where you existed, as nothing but a bystander. The calling of the sirens from the sea invited you as the room fell silent, as if you were the only witness of the exchange of secrets.
A sailor you were, toppling over the boat to get to the alluring song, until a hand startled you out of your trance and your mind cleared to the lull of your boss' voice.
"Do not touch the songbird."
You were not equipped for a rescue mission, you realised. Taking in the perimeter of the abandoned factory, you let the dread sink in as your mind raced to find the solution to the problem, only to come up with nothing. Nothing that would let you go unharmed. This was supposed to be a simple spying mission; you know, the normal Wednesday shift, but you figured that you must have gotten the short end of the stick somehow.
"Never thought someone would pay such a high price for a songbird."
Your interest peaked, pressing closer to the hanger to catch their conversation.
"Are you kidding me? It's the syndicate's songbird. People go apeshit for this."
You were grateful for their chatters, for it made it easy for you to hide your stumbling steps as you made your way out to the roof. Sending a quick coded message to your boss, you sighed.
'Noted. Stay put, backup will arrive shortly.'
You closed your communicator, opting to keep a close eye on the gang just in case. Only a couple of them remained. Perhaps the rest had gone to patrol the area. You watched; a part of you wondered if you regretted doing so when they seemed to debate on something, until one of them reached over, grabbing onto the songbird's suit in feigned gentleness.
"Don't damage the good." You could barely hear it above the sounds of alarms blaring in your mind.
"Nah, the clients won't notice if we have a bit of fun."
You felt something shatter, and you wondered if it was the glass underneath your feet or was it your conscience screaming at you to do something. You did, however, notice how you were in hot water as soon as you took out the two guards in a swift takedown that you didn't think you could replicate.
"Shoo, this is bad." You approached the crate before the others were alarmed by the noises. Great job, you were supposed to be discreet. Regret could wait, you decided. You grabbed hold of the captive's shoulder, hoping that somehow you would be able to shake him awake. At least, enough to make a quick get away.
You didn't get the chance to voice your surprise when your world flipped until you landed on your back inside the crate and the emerald eyes zeroed in on you. You were almost positive that the gleam at the corner of your eyes was a dagger pressing dangerously close to your jugular.
"H-hold, please, I am not with them." You showed your hands, still not quite processing everything. Your attempt to show peace seemed to pacify the other as he visibly relaxed, slotting the dagger back into a hidden compartment in his suit.
"Good, it's getting awfully stuffy in here." He commented, peeking out of the crater when he heard footsteps. "Get ready, we got company."
It was a mess waiting to explode. You held your breath when the singer pressed low, hiding just beyond the view of the guards who walked into the sight of their fallen comrades.
"Check the songbird! It'll be bad if he escapes."
"Shit, I thought the drug lasts longer than this."
"Boss will not be happy about t-"
You held back a scream when the singer pounced from his hiding spot, tackling the one closest to him in one swift elegant motion. You watched, shocked when the guard collapsed onto the floor while the songbird flipped the edge of his hidden weapon close.
"Are you crazy?" You screamed, taking out the others in their momentary surprise. They were making so much fuss that more would eventually come and the singer had the audacity to laugh.
"That's not the first time I heard that, yes." His green orbs shone in the light, not once wavering as he took out another gangster. "But it'll be okay."
Would it? You highly doubted it, turning around to shout a warning at the singer when one of the gangsters wound an arm around him.
"Game over, little songbird, back to the cage you go." He groaned, deep while you stepped forward, only to halt by the press of what you presumed to be a gun against your spine.
"And you there, playing hero aren't you? Too ba-"
A gunshot rang loud in the space. The guy holding onto the singer toppled over, loosening his grip on his captive who sidestepped with a whistle.
"You are late." More shots and you felt the pressure behind your back lift as more joined their peers on the floor with groans of pain. You felt the sinking claw of anxiety pressing against you when firm footsteps echoed before a pink haired man emerged from the doorway.
"Techno."
You needed a break. You decided, sitting on the floor as you stared blankly into nothingness. You could hear screams of mercy and terror when a smiling brunet came in earlier, dragging the ring leader with him into the backroom. You didn't want to know what was happening.
"Hey, you good?" The singer plopped himself down beside you. His demeanour was calm for someone who was literally on the verge of being sold.
"I-I guess so." You replied, shaky.
"I owe you a thanks." The singer pulled his hand out and you accepted, grateful for the distraction. "I am Dream, by the way. You look a bit young to be in this field of business."
You couldn't exactly argue. Instead, you hummed, neither confirming nor denying the statement. You heard a mumble as Dream snapped his attention up to the pink haired man; a smile on his face as he nodded.
"Well, I guess this is where we part ways." Dream beamed, patting you on the shoulder. "Can I at least have your name?"
You hesitated, but the shine in the green was inviting.
"It's Purpled."
And you knew you would cross paths once again. Someday.