A Bohemian Tragedy

Past: The Sparkling Diamond:

Youji sat in the booth on the balcony, staring down in shock at the floor. He had never dreamed a place like this could exist. He couldn’t wait to get down on the dance floor and find a little company.

“Finally, this is my type of place.”

The bohemians surrounded him, staring downward as well, shouting and cheering with him. Omi was the only one that heard and he turned to Youji, grinning.

“Glad you like it. But just wait until you see Aya!”

Just as Omi spoke the room fell silent, the girls and rakes dancing on the floor freezing and staring up the ceiling intently. The lights dim and Youji looks up with the rest of them, not knowing what to expect.

A slender trapeze dropped down from the ceiling, holding the most gorgeous man Youji had ever seen. Bright crimson hair fell over his delicate face. His long, slender legs were clad in black trousers, and a violet, open shirt covered his shoulder. Youji studied him intently, awed at the man’s beauty. And grateful that looks couldn’t kill, for if they could, surely everyone in the room would be dead.

The man sat on the trapeze, his hands white-knuckled as they clutched the ropes. He glared at the room below him, his eyes full of ice. But no one seem to care, least of all Persia, whom the glare was directed at.

Finally his lips began to move and Youji was astonished to see him sing, even if the words came out sullen and half distorted.
“The French are glad to die for love, and delight in fighting duels…”

Despite the look on Aya’s face, Youji was captivated, watching in wonder as Aya moved through the crowd, singing. Aya’s movements were jilted and reluctant, but Youji could still see that he moved with perfect grace. Youji was in love.

But someone else was to meet Aya that night. Persia’s brother and investor…Takatori.
Little did I know at the time, but he was sitting right behind me, as spellbound as I was.

Reji Takatori shifted in his seat, very glad of the long tablecloth that draped across his legs. He spoke to his brother, never moving his eyes from Aya. “When am I going to meet the boy?”

Persia took a deep breath and shook his head, distaste filling him at having to offer Aya up to his brother. “After his number. I’ve arranged a private meeting just for you and Aya, totally alone.”

On the other side of the pillar, Omi was whispering in Youji’s ear. “After his number, I’ve arranged a meeting for you and Aya, totally alone.”

Youji’s eyes widened and panic began to fill him. Him and the icily beautiful Aya in the same room together? “Alone?”

Omi nodded happily. “Totally!”

Youji swallowed nervously and wiped his sweaty palms down the leg of his pants. He considered himself a ladies’ man, suave and in control, but he had never been around someone like Aya. He wondered how he would manage to get through it.

“Well, I’d better go meet her then.” Youji tried to push past Omi and out of the booth, but the diminutive blond shoved him back down and stood him.
.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry I’ll sally forth and tee things up!” He jumped to his feet, straight into the back of the servant attending the next booth over. There was a loud crash as the tray slipped from the servant’ s hands, spilling them on Takatori.

Below on the floor, Aya and Persia conversed while moving through the steps of the dance. “So where is this Takatori bastard?”

Persia sighed and then frowned. He looked up just in time to see Omi wiping Takatori’s shirt with his handkerchief. “He’s the one Omi is shaking a hanky at.”

Aya shoved Neu out of the way to look for himself.

Omi, nearly in tears at the furious look on Takatori’s face, quickly turned to Youji, pulling a fresh handkerchief from his pocket. “Excuse me Youji, may I borrow…?”

Aya frowned as he saw the movement. “That’s him? He’s a bit on the scrawny side, isn’t he?”

“Let me see,” Persia blinked in confusion and quickly turned to watch Omi continue to try and patch things up with Takatori. “That’s him, kitten. I hope that demonic little loon doesn’t frighten him off.”

Omi has had enough of Takatori. He threw the handkerchief in his face and backed away. “Clean yourself off, you bourgeois pig!” He tried to back away, but once again he found his way blocked, this time by Takatori’s pet servant, Crawford.

Crawford pulled a gun from his shoulder holster and showed it to Omi before reaching up and sliding his glasses back up his nose. “Uh-uh. Don’t mess with the boss, pipsqueak. Got it?” He shoved Omi away and then resumed his watch, sighing. If only Takatori bothered listening to him, he could have told him that was going to happen. He had seen it coming. His talents were wasted here.

Down of the floor, Aya and Persia crouched behind a moving wall of dancing girls as Aya changed shirts. He grimaced in disgust before pulling on a shirt that was even more sheer than the one he had been wearing. He grabbed the top hat but didn’t put it on yet.

“He’s the one I have to please?”

Persia nodded sadly. “That’s your mission. Just remember, it’s for your sister’s sake.”

“I know. So what’s his type? Wilting flower? Bright and bubbly? Or smouldering tempter?” Aya felt his stomach cramp in disgust at the thought of performing anything on the man, especially considering he was a Takatori.

“I’d say go with smouldering. We’re all counting on you, kitten. Remember, a real show, in a real theatre, with a real audience. And your sister will be…”

“Free.”

Aya reluctantly stood to finish the song and dance number. Two of the other male dancers pick Aya up, nearly trampling Omi, who has been frantically trying to get Aya’s attention for the past two minutes. Aya continued to sing as the clowns moved under his direction, leading him over to where Youji sat.

They deposited Aya on his feet and Aya stared down at Youji, who was watching Aya approach with his mouth hanging open.

Aya rested one hand on the wall over Youji’s head, leaning down to speak to him. “I believe you were expecting me.”

Youji was struck by the gruffness in Aya’s voice and their close proximity, pierced by Aya’s violet gaze, and he could only nod dumbly. “Yes….yes…”

Aya frowned, the barest hint of it in his eyes, before turning to the waiting crowd. “It’s my choice tonight, so get lost.”

Omi tried to flag Aya down. “I’ve see you met my friend!”

Aya snarled at the younger man. “I’ve got control of this, leave me alone.” He turned back to Youji, slipping once more into his icy calm. “Let’s dance.” He reached down and dragged the protesting Youji onto the floor.

I can still remember the song that reverberated through the hall as we danced. We did more than danced. We connected. Aya moved with fluid grace, and even in my wildest dreams I’ve never seen anything like it. But even though we danced, there was a reserve about him. A reluctance. And to my utter surprise, an occasional glimpse of hatred. But that didn’t stop me from wanting him. Every time our bodies would brush against each other as the dance wore on, I only wanted him more.

Aya sat on top of the trapeze once more as it was raised into the air. Youji watched from his balcony, unable to belief he had actually danced with the beautiful stranger.

“Diamonds….are a…boy’s best…”

Youji gasped only seconds after Aya did, knowing instinctively that something was wrong with the redhead. He watched in horror as Aya fainted and fell from the trapeze. His heart stopped beating until he saw the strange man below catch Aya and carry him off stage. The music started up once again, but Youji wasn’t listening.

Past: Backstage

Rook carried Aya backstage and was immediately swamped by people trying to see what had happened to the singer.

Birman, standing against the wall, took one look at the unconcious Aya and laughed. “Don’t know if that Takatori’s going to get his money’s worth tonight.”

Hel reached out and smacked Birman’s shoulder. “Don’t be unkind, Birman.”

Manx appeared, shoving aside girls as Aya is lowered to a couch in the back. “Out of my way! Quickly!”

She bent over Aya, waving a bottle under his nose. Aya groaned and groggily opened his eyes, staring up at Manx’s flame-coloured and impossibly coiffed hair.
“I’m fine. Leave me alone,” Aya growled.

Manx sat back in relief. “Just a little fainting spell.”

The stage manager walked over, shooing the girls from the room as he did so. “Problems?”

Manx shook her head, the curls bouncing on her shoulders. “Nothing for you to be worrying about.”

The stage manager nodded briskly. “Don’t just stand around then.”

Aya started to cough. Manx quickly held a handkerchief to his lips, helping him turn onto his side. She was immediately worried at the harsh sound the coughing made. And she became more alarmed when she pulled the cloth away and found it stained with blood. She looked down with horror in her eyes as Aya reclined again, groaning.