Work Text:
When adoration twists into envy, the story always ends in blood.
To Tsukasa Tenma, he would do anything for stardom—even murder wasn’t much of a stretch at this point. Relegated to a measly bartender, tending to drunken customers who used him as a therapist, he was forced to watch others live out the dream he wanted on the stage to the nightclub he worked at—a speakeasy only certain people knew by word of mouth, meaning a lot of the guests were of high and important positions who were looking for a place to take off the edge.
He hoped, as many aspiring stars did in the 1920s, that one of these customers would be a well-known director looking for the next big-shot actor to sweep audiences off their feet, or even a talent scouter for a big record label. Although he would hire a talent manager to handle that part of the job, he’s been unable to find any funds. Ergo, bartender.
Wiping down a wine glass with a maroon handtowel to match the carpet, he thought how he could hardly scrape up any money to hire a manager, seeing as how paying for rent to his shoddy run-down apartment, his younger sister’s hospital bills, and groceries, he could barely afford to get by, let alone live . His wage couldn’t even cover half of that, he was living off of tips from drunkards with nothing better to do with their money.
The loud clapping of the audience scattered among mahogany tables draped in white cloth only further fueled his jealousy as the soft harmony of jazz circled the air—his eyes strayed to the center of the stage, where a beautiful young woman took the crowd’s attention. Her short pink hair—adorned with a cute, black feather—glowed adoringly against the golden flame of candles from the chandelier above. She wore a short, sleek, black dress and tiptoed on similarly black high heels.
But the thing that stood out the most was her pink eyes—eyes that shined with an innocent nature that stood out amongst the red carpet and brown, wooden walls. She was the star of the show, and she knew the hold she had on everyone’s attention. And most importantly—she was and had everything he could never be and have.
But, even without the ensemble of musicians behind her, she could hold the whole world in the palm of her hand with her voice alone.
Tsukasa gripped the handle of the glass tight, on the verge of snapping it in half, as he glared at the stage. At first, he adored her—even developed a small crush he could never admit to anyone—but as the days passed, and his future in stardom grew more hopeless, that same admiration grew into jealousy. He was quite literally red with envy with the way his face painted itself in a blush whenever he saw her.
The worst part of it all? She was nothing but a nepo baby with actual talent. He attempts to recall her first name but only remembers her surname—Otori. The same daughter of the Otori family who owned this nightclub, and many others sprawled across the country. She had the connections, the strings to pull, to get her where she is today, which only made him resent her more.
But… he still couldn’t help but fall in love with her soft voice and how her smile seemed to light up the whole room as she took a bow and left backstage.
He slammed the glass on the table, jolting a drunk businessman awake, who immediately ordered another glass of bourbon.
He played his signature, tip-winning smile as he prepared for yet another long day.
ᯓ★
As the last of the guests filtered out, Tsukasa could finally let out a breath of relief. Thankfully, today was surprisingly a slow day, and the mess left behind by the customers was minimal. Maybe people were finally starting to learn how to pocket their own trash and not spill their red wine all over the white tablecloth.
Wiping down the bar counter, he stared down at his dreary face reflected by the golden light of the chandelier. He swiped down at the reflection and found another face looking down as he pulled the towel back.
He yelped as he lifted his head to meet the person, and couldn’t tell whether his heart was racing in shock or at the realization of who it was standing before him.
The woman leaned against the bar, a mischievous glint in her pink, glittering eyes that shifted to her smile. It was as if he were drinking champagne—light and sweet but also bubbly and sparkly—as he took in her presence. “Aren’t you going to pour me something?” She asked, her smile shining against the light.
Tsukasa regained his composure, throwing the towel on his shoulder. “You didn’t order anything.”
“Any recommendations?” She hopped onto a barstool, with her elbows on the counter as she held her chin in her hands.
“Hm.” He thought for a moment, taking in her appearance as he tried to act normal. “You seem like a sparkling rosé type.”
Tsukasa turned around to pull a bottle of sparkling rosé wine from the liquor rack and a champagne glass from the bottom shelf. He set both on the table, popping open the bottle and pouring the clear, pink liquid into the glass. “You know, I don’t typically serve customers past closing time.” He smirks back as he sets the bottle down, and slides the glass to her.
“Ah, but you see, I’m not your typical customer,” She says, holding the glass to her lips as she takes small, delicate sips. “Hm… Tastes like strawberries.”
He nods. “Sweet, pink, and floral. Matches your energy.”
Her face unfurls into a pink blush similar to the drink. “My, aren’t you a flirt?” She giggles as she finishes her drink, placing the glass back on the counter.
“I’m afraid I’m not, Ms. Otori,” He says as he takes her glass to wash off in the sink. “I’m just… a very hospitable person.”
“Ms. Otori, huh?” She tilted her head. “There’s no need for formalities here. Don’t be afraid to call me Emu!”
“Sure, Emu.” He spills the name out of his mouth as if familiar. Definitely not because he’s forgotten it. “Hell, of a show tonight, huh?” He asks, trying to change topics.
Emu hums, kicking her legs in the air. “Even without much of an audience, the atmosphere’s never dead!”
“Not without you, that is.” Tsukasa comments, earning himself a brighter blush from Emu that he doesn’t get to see. “Like a real Gatsby party.”
“Aw, thanks,” Emu says, a genuine spark to her smile as she stares at the back of his golden hair, and how he had the same soft glow a candle did.
Drying the clean glass with his towel, Tsukasa places it back on the bottom shelf and turns back to Emu. He searches her face for a fault, any crack to her perfect act… but looks away when he realizes he’s looking a bit too closely. “How’s it like? Being the center of attention, I mean. I can only imagine how it feels to be up on a stage.”
“Well… Why don’t I show you what it’s like?” She blurted, surprising the both of them with her boldness. “T-To be on a stage, to be clear!”
“Oh… Sure,” He says as he shoves the towel under the counter, goosebumps growing all over his skin.
Fixing his white button-up polo, he exits the bar and joins Emu. “Lead the way, miss.”
She nods as she leads him to the stage, past all the tables, hoping he doesn’t notice her blush. As he steps to the microphone, he pulls it out of the stand and taps on it, the sound echoing throughout the building. Emu seats herself at a table closest to the stage, looking up at him in awe. “Now, imagine I’m the audience.” She smiles reassuringly, admiring the shiny glint in his gaze. “I won’t judge!”
“Hold on,” Tsukasa says, apprehension clouding his tone. “You want me to sing ?”
“Duh,” She shrugged. “What’s the point of a stage without its star?”
He ignored the way a spark traveled through his veins when she called him a ‘star’ as he coughed into his fist. “Alright… If you say so.”
Looking across the dim room, his eyes remained solely on Emu. He tried his best to imagine an entire audience… but all he could see was her . He clutched the microphone close as if it were a lifeline, trying his absolute best to suppress his fluster. Here goes nothing… He mutters.
Although he sang without the accompaniment of a band, Emu was quickly put into a trance as she watched the bartender shine on stage. His voice wandered the room as if yearning, a wonderful harmony to her ears, she could almost cry.
If she were honest, she always wondered about the bartender who watched from the corner—the one who’d watch her perform while juggling customers at the same time— and used this as an excuse to get closer to him after finally gathering the courage to approach the man. She longed for a partner to join her, and though she didn’t expect much from him, she’s found more than she bargained for…
He was perfect, in every way she could ever imagine.
When he finished the song, he placed the microphone back on the stand and was met with incredulous applause from Emu. “You were amazing!” She bolted out of the seat and ran up to him, taking his hands in hers. “What do you say? Do you wanna join me?”
“What? Join you?” He stammered the question out like a malfunctioning typewriter.
“Yeah! We can travel across the country and sing for different bars! You can ditch this bartender job and come away with me! What do you say, partner ?”
He considered the offer, but he didn’t need to think about it too much as he answered with an outstanding “…Sure. I’ll take you up on your offer.”
“Great! Make sure to meet me here tomorrow!” With a final squeeze of his hands, she let go with reluctance and ran out of the nightclub, her face entirely draped in red.
Tsukasa tried to call after her but was shut down by the slam of the front doors. He only stood there, bewildered as he felt the envy drain out of his—only to be replaced with a fluttering, rosey feeling.
In a technical way, this story did end in blood—the blood that rushed across his cheeks.
He wonders, ever so briefly, if he just witnessed the making of a star.
