That's Showbiz~

Kit was doing pretty well now. He had taken up residence at Central City in an 'ok' home and was making decent cash at the Café Saffron as regular entertainment. He was getting drinks and food for free for a small pay cut, and most of the time 10 or 15 napkins in his tip jar with numbers written on them, most of the time with a lip stick stain on the corner. Café Saffron was, in truth, was were he met with his current employer and in the back was the V.I.P Room, where one moment stained his record. But the damage had been repaired there and the place was starting to come alive. It was a very relaxing place, velvet and gold, almost like a mansion, with a excellent mahogany bar. The stage had been upgraded, more stage lights and a better sound system had been installed since last time. He was now sipping some white zinfaendel at the bar, looking at the stage with intensity.

Why do you insist on earning a HONEST living? I mean, killing is much more fun, and it can pay if you find the right person...

And here it was, back again. The desensitized Kit, the voice of murder and bringer of death. It had no name, and went by none. It spoke to him recently with just hurtful and often disturbing words. Now, Kit, after 8 years of dealing with it, learned to block it out but not without some difficulty, and he thought that a response was not needed. So, he continued sipping on his wine, ignoring the comment like it never happened. He never lifted his slit, emerald eyes from the microphone. He was informed that their would be another performer today, and whoever it was was fronting him. An odd concept to him, but if it let him drink another glass of this delicious 1937 vintage, then let it be so, he thought.

Soon, he was tapped on the shoulder and her turned his head to see the manager, Mr. Rembrant. He was a tall, gruff man with the beard of a mountain man, wearing a plade shirt and business pants and some, to Kit anyway, very tacky golden chains around his bulbous and muscular neck. Kit had assumed he was perhaps from one of the island nations, but he couldn't place exactly which one. He looked worried and a bit displeased, looking at him with desperate eyes, speaking to him in flawless Amestrian.

"Kit, you gotta get up there. The other act's gettin cold feet, she must be new to this. Get up there and show 'er how it's done, alright?"

Oh, he couldn't say no to Mr. Rembrant. It seemed almost impossible, for one of two reasons. The man was just had a great sense of charisma around him and he looked like he could snap you in half like a toothpick. Kit's reasoning was both, so he knocked back what little was left of his wine, sighed with his ears twitching, and stood.

"I'll go get my things...."

He walked on in his feline way, tail swishing back and forth regally. His interest had been peaked by the mention of 'she'. A female performer? Not unheard of, but not seen at Saffron in Kit's memory. For now, Mr. Rembrant had only employed him and the string quartet, a fan of high society music as well as Kit's exotic music choices and he was interested in what she had to bring to the table.

He swung open the door to the V.I.P Room, a small, just as luxurious bedroom, with golden post bed covered in velvet sheets. Among said sheets was a dark green duffle bag he had procured from a military surplus store. Inside held his instruments, his emergency blood packs, and his extensive sketch and painting equipment. He pulled out his violin case and ocarina, seeing as how he was known for it here. His ocarina was a 12 hole, a light chesnut color, and one of his most prized possesions, next to his collar and kukri.

He walked out onstage to some scattered applause and sat at the stool by the microphone, bringing the clay flute to his lips and beginning to play. It was an old Crieg melody, a song he'd heard by a fire side party. It played rapidly as people danced and spinned around the bonfire, and he learned it by ear alone, and it was a perfect reconstruction, right down to the emotion behind it. The song felt powerful, free spirited, like a wild horse charging through miles of open country, it's mane whipping wildly about as its poweful form sprinting towards a never ending horizon.

Music invoked poweful emotion in Kit, it can make him go from silent tears to violent brawling, but when he played, it was his job to make the audience feel emotion, to tell a story with nothing but an amazing string of notes. He played with closed eyes, his tail whipping to the beat. He ended the song to a round of applause as he opened his violin case, raising it to play a slow Esparian ballad. This song sounded like two lovers meeting in the afterlife, a moment of sorrow covered in infinite happiness. Kit never felt more alive when he played music...besides feeding.

B-Bmp. B-Bmp. Her heart hammered so loudly. Why was she even here, preforming? She wasn't some young genius. With eyes of soft blue skies, she stared hard at her feet. Head bowed as she tried to calm her heated heart. The bruises on her side still unhealed completely and even coughing hurt if only a bit. No one knew. The pain inside shielded from everyone, even herself. In her mind, Luc had no pain. Her lack of memory, perhaps was it optional? A decision that said "Hey.. If I can't remember the pain, it doesn't hurt." Yet as she looked up into the mirror.. the face staring back had tears. Wet tears that dripped slowly on the edges. Sadness, bitter-sweet sadness that trailed her smooth cheeks. Who could you hurt when no one was there? At least she couldn't harm the ones that she loved, since they weren't around, right?

A desperate smile was falsified on her face and even she, herself could see through it. She gagged on her own swallowed sobs and dropped he face against the sink. If only time could turn back and she could have told him. Way back when he was still around, she hadn't thought twice on her feelings, but now was an hour too late. Perhaps the future would shine a smile upon her? A grateful thanking for the lost soul that had nothing but felt it was everything. So why was she crying? Was it fear? Was it realization, twenty years it all started and now.. she was in a dressing room of some man she didn't notice. Nothing on but her undergarments and a large t-shirt while she tried to wipe away all the pain from her eyes. This would be great!

A knock on the door, firm and somehow demanding broke the silence. Jumping in her seat, she looked at the time and panicked. She was supposed to be on the stage three minutes ago! Late, late, late! Where was her schedule?! Her hands pushed rapidly around papers and make up (that she didn't wear). Clatters of falling items, something rolled and Luc tried to stand up completely, her foot catching and hooking the chair. CRASH! She fell, knocking the chair over with her and falling on her healing ribs that creaked with warning. The pain! It made her stomach lurch and her throat gasp a swallowed howl of pain. Okay.. I'm okay.

"Miss! Are you, okay in there?" He asked with a heavier rapping at the door.

As she was making a mess of her dressing room, she managed to slide on her skirt, socks and then her boots. Her top switched out and replaced by the smaller top over her black camisole. A pleated skirt of pink on her lap and her boots white with pink rings. Her rings on her pointer fingers and she looked at herself in the mirror. That looked better! Her hands pushed through her lilac hair and then it hit her. Could she do this? What if she insulted someone with her singing? She could only Xing in her own tongue and yet... She could barely do that. Scrutinizing eyes, eyes that swore and screamed at her. One false tone and you were tossed into a tank of sharks.

Hesitantly, she made her way to the door, her legs as if made of leg. Her heart racing once again. The way she ended up there that night crazy anyways. Searching for her adopted dad had led her to Amestris. Upon a night in the streets the kind man had heard her singing and offered to start her in singing. Lucky she understood his words, the pathetic girl reached and took his hand. To think the start would be at such a cafe that looked top notch! Things in there looked more expensive than anything she'd had her whole life and all she'd had put into one object.

She grabbed the doorknob and shakily, opened it. the necklace on her neck gleamed with her family crest as her legs shakily walked to the stage. A man with hair lighter than hers was finishing his own piece. Though, not a word she could understand, she could feel nothing but pure emotion. Was there pain in his voice? Something more, he needed help, he was lost! She could almost feel it. Troubling pain that flooded into words and a heart open to the world that's what made music so perfect. A buff man behind Luc soon shoved her on stage once the man's song was done.

As Luc passed him, she noted he looked like a cat, then she thought twice. Cat people weren't real! then again, she had been hurt by a yeti recently... It was maybe time to think a person cat was real. The music began to stir and confidence soon slipped onto her face. A smile for those lost souls. Lucrezia was a firefly. All those hurting and lost, follow me, I shall bring you light in the darkest of nights! Opening her eyes once more, the words started and she began to sway to the beat. Upon forgetting the eyes of starers, she managed to dance to her song. An old one, her mother used to sing once in a cold blue moon. Though not many souls would understand a word she said. The lyrics were sang as if created by her, each and every second pouring more and more of her warming heart.