Chapter Text
A choir of children line themselves in perfect rows. They tilt their heads high, hands resting obediently at their sides. They’d serve as the paradigm of grace, if only it weren’t for the tension knotting their shoulders as they listened to piano scales. Before them, an instructor watches with scrutiny. Save for the bright melody of the piano, all is silent. Then, as the pianist finishes their current scale, the instructor gestures.
The children sing.
Their voices accompany the piano, mimicking its shrill tone with varying levels of success. One child sings too fast. Another child sings too slow. All are forgivable errors as the young voices oscillate with the pianist’s progression. Their melody colors the deepsea cave, livening the morning with youthful innocence. A smile slowly melts the instructor’s icy demeanor. She nods approvingly, eyes twinkling in delight. Then, a certain child catches her attention.
Her smile falters.
She gestures sharply, killing the music. The children stop singing, confused. Silence saturates the cave uncomfortably until the instructor clears her throat.
“Azul,” she says, “why aren’t you singing?”
Rows of heads snap in tandem to stare at the offending child, a portly octomer. A dozen wide eyes stare at the child, who withers beneath their gaze.
“Azul,” the instructor says again, stricter. The child flinches. “Come to the front.”
Two children behind Azul snicker. They nudge each other with their elbows, giggles only increasing as the octopus mermaid begrudgingly moves. Azul doesn’t raise his head, shoulders bowed as he makes his way to the instructor.
“Stand here.” She gestures and Azul complies, tentacles curling into themselves. The other children begin whispering.
“Raise that head of yours,” the instructor hisses, “and sing .”
Azul stands still. He quivers, shrinking into himself, His hands begin to clam. His lips twitch, jaws unable to move until the instructor yells at him again. His head snaps upwards, heart palpitating. It takes a moment for Azul to pry open his quivering jaw. His throat constricts in desperate protest. Hands curl into fists. He tries to find his voice. Nothing. He tries again and again, begging himself to sing, pleading to himself to sound as good as his peers, to not embarrass himself again as his vocal cords work against him. He applies more force in desperation until, at last, he makes a sound.
A loud wail pierces through the room.
Azul jolts awake. The wailing continues, warbling with an impatient crescendo. There’s hardly any time for Azul to blink before a fluffy white paw punches his face, its owner ferocious.
“Pearl,” Azul barely manages to gasp before the paw strikes its wrath down upon him again, silencing him. The weight upon Azul’s chest shifts; Azul scrunches his face in anticipation. Alas, there is no third attack. When Azul opens his eyes, he’s met with Pearl’s expectant gaze. She meows innocuously, clearly waiting for her breakfast.
“Such a demanding child,” Azul sighs and he ponders where Pearl had gotten her attitude from. His eyes flicker to his alarm; there’s still twenty minutes to spare. Yet, with an impatient feline lounging on his chest, he doubts he can afford another second of rest. So, Pearl gets her breakfast early.
It’s not like Azul could fall back asleep anyway.
Phantom piano chords haunt Azul’s ears as he prepares for the day. He grits his teeth. That disastrous meeting with the Leech brothers was definitely the source of his newfound unrest. How could he have slept well when those twins had roughed him up without warning? His career being jeopardized and contacting the twins were stressful enough; having them touch him and fling him around like a ragdoll yesterday was uncalled for! Azul huffs as he rummages through his closet, harshly shoving clothes aside.
He’s supposed to be at the height of his career! An idol that the public adores, a deepsea singer meant to be the successor of the Sea Witch! As the public cries out his name, he’s supposed to be basked in glory! Bathed in fame! Revered with the utmost adoration!
Instead, he’s dragged around by a negligent company, threatened by has-beens from the past, and throttled around by two bratty groupies with no ounce of shame! Azul recalls the strength of Floyd’s arms around him yesterday and shudders.
Someone needs to discipline those twins , he thinks sourly, shoving aside a coat. He claws around his wardrobe for an appropriate outfit, pushing aside endless garments that should’ve been sent off to donation, or at least a charity auction, when an idea springs to mind. He pries out a mesh halter top; an old gift from a fan.
This should be enough to satisfy Jade’s end of the deal, Azul thinks, eyeing the garment. He can spin a tale of how it qualifies as a keepsake later; it’ll take some days before the Leech brothers fulfill their end of the deal. Azul turns the halter top over, pondering why Jade would want his possessions. What would he even do with them? Curate a museum of Azul’s supposed treasures? Brag online about his exclusive ties to Azul? Wear his clothing?
Briefly, an image of Jade in his halter top flickers in Azul’s mind. Jade’s elegant yet broader build barely fits into Azul’s shirt, lean muscles threatening to spill under the fabric. Though the halter top is an ill-fit, Jade smiles brightly, simply content with the luxury of owning his dearest idol’s shirt. He’d chatter with Floyd in glee, blissfully unaware of how stupid he looks in the top.
Azul chuckles. The Leech twins may be rambunctious but, with the right tricks, controllable. Their intimidation tactics were merely bluffs when snared by their fickle interests. Azul’s smile widens as he gazes at the halter top. As long as he stood his ground, the brothers were nothing more than simple, excitable little elvers begging to be tamed.
And what a pathetic idol Azul would be, if he couldn’t keep his fans in line.
The halter top is pushed aside for later. There's a greater matter that demands Azul’s attention: today’s meeting with the company. Yet, as Azul prepares today’s outfit, his mind continues to drift back to the twins. He wonders how they’re doing. How long would they take before embarking on their investigation? The person of interest Azul pinned upon them was an easy target. After all, the first assignment was an evaluation of skill and efficiency.
“John Starling,” Jade reads aloud. “A trainer from K2 Studios.”
Two pairs of mismatched eyes stare at the profile.
“K2 Studios? Haven’t heard of that company in years,” Floyd hums, idly playing with the hem of his jacket. “Ya think this John Starling guy’s harassin’ ya, Azul? Doubt he’s even active in the industry anymore.”
“Not particularly,” Azul says with a frown, “but it doesn’t hurt to err on the side of caution.”
“John Starling was involved in a controversy prior to his departure from the industry,” Jade points out, “The scandal was never outlined to the public, though many speculate that it led to the downfall of K2 Studios itself.” Jade smiles wickedly, “I wonder if Azul had any involvement in that.”
“Please.” Azul huffs indignantly, “Trident Entertainment is in a precarious situation, must I remind you. As my company bleeds out, I merely wish to protect it– along with myself– from any potential sharks lurking in the depths.”
“Azul’s soooo generous, lookin’ out for the company.” Floyd drawls, then cackles. “But if we get’ta be Azul’s bodyguards, I don’t mind huntin’ down the small fry!”
“Only if the company permits the two of you to be my bodyguards despite your reputation,” Azul corrects. Then, he clears his throat and forces a smile. “Now– Our check-in date shall be a month from now. I will email the transcript of tonight’s briefing to ensure no one forgets their end of the deal…”
The doorbell rings while Azul’s spritzing himself with his signature perfume. He ignores it as he inspects himself in the mirror, fingertips fussily combing back a stubborn strand of flyaway hair. He’s fully dressed now, waiting for Mr. Fontaine’s arrival whilst he dabs the finishing touch of his makeup. The doorbell rings again, twice.
How odd.
Mr. Fontaine normally has his keys.
Perhaps he’s forgotten them in a rush? Azul glances at a nearby clock; there’s still plenty of time before today’s meeting. Perhaps it’s a wayward salesman at his door then? Azul hears the door finally unlock as he scrutinizes his appearance one last time before heading out his room.
“Were you having trouble getting in, Mr. Fontaine?” Azul asks as he walks into the living room, “You normally don’t ring the doo–”
A camera shutter silences Azul.
He stares, flabbergasted. Then, he springs into action.
“Who are you and what are you doing with my cat?!” Azul’s already at the couch by the time he snarls, seizing the stranger by his hand. His fingers crush against the man’s wrist as Pearl jolts up from the sudden movement, hissing. She escapes the stranger’s camera and crouches behind Azul’s body.
“Ow– Woah! Woah– Wait– Stop! ” The stranger cries out. His phone clatters unceremoniously to the ground, “Stop– I’m Mr. Fontaine’s replacement!”
Azul immediately lets him go. The man whimpers, holding his wrist to his chest with a pout.
“Mr. Fontaine’s replacement?” Azul repeats, then narrows his eyes in suspicion. “He never told me that he was resigning.”
“He– uh, well, you know how he is!” The stranger gives a sheepish laugh, lips strained in an awkward smile. There’s a moment of tense silence before the stranger starts rambling. “But! Before he left, he said you were having security complaints again and, uh, I guess with the whole restructuring that Trident’s going under they finally honored your request soooo– Bam! ”
The stranger strikes a pose, hands on his hips and a haughty smile.
“Here I am! Your hot, new, young and fresh manager— Cater Diamond!”
Azul blinks, unsure of what to make of the situation. He scrutinizes Cater in silence, analyzing his fiery-apricot hair and warm green eyes that whisper a vague familiarity. Azul opens his mouth, asking the most pressing question first:
“What were you doing to my cat?”
“Oh.” Cater’s charismatic grin melts back into a guilty grimace. Clearly, he hadn’t expected for Azul to fixate upon Pearl instead of him. “She’s just soooo photogenic, I couldn’t help but snap a few for my feed! Pearl’s eyes are just so striking in person and her fur’s sooooo soft and silky! You’ll forgive Cay-Cay if he apologizes, right~?”
Azul ignores his new manager’s show of batting eyelashes and pouty lips.
“I see.” he says, then gives the mercy of a smile. Photos are annoying but at least they weren’t harmful to Pearl. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Diamond.” Azul leans down to pick up Cater’s phone; he notices that its case is from the new Blackjack collection. Promoted by Riddle Rosehearts , the phone case was the latest trend raging across the Queendom of Hearts. Interesting. “I’ll accept your apology, if only you’ll excuse my rash behavior from before.”
“Never call Cay-Cay ‘Mr. Diamond’ again and it’s a deal~!” Cater eagerly takes back his phone, gripping it like a vice. He holds it close to himself. “I’m only a few years older than you, so calling me ‘Mr. Diamond’ makes me feel all old and stuffy!”
Azul nods along, making note of his new manager’s personality. Fashionable– More accurately, a trendchaser. Azul asks the second question gnawing at his mind: “Have we met before?”
Now, it’s Cater’s turn to stare. His lips open then close as if contemplating his answer– or, rather, the appropriate approach.
“I did some busy work for Trident before they promoted me to this management position, so maybe you saw me from time-to-time?” Cater says with a hum. Before Azul can confirm, he swiftly continues on: “You’re such an attentive idol, Azul! No wonder why you’re rising to the top so quickly! Cay-Cay’s impressed~”
“An idol can’t exist without the support from their staff.” Azul responds, brows knitted. “It’s only natural to remember the faces of those who support us.” Something felt off, but he couldn’t refute Cater’s claims. Perhaps they have crossed paths in the agency prior, but Azul would have presumed that Cater would be more memorable if so. After all, his appearance was unlike a standard office worker: Statement piercings, sharp perfume, and flashy jewelry.
Much like an idol, Azul thinks, but dismisses the thought. It isn’t unheard of to have unsuccessful idols join an agency for behind-the-scenes work; whatever gets them close to their dreams of entertainment.
“You don’t have to think so hard about it, you look like I’m accusing you of being arrogant!” Cater suddenly chirps, waving his hands in front of him, “Cay-Cay thinks you’re really impressive and is sooo excited to be your manager, even if this was all a total rush job from management!” Speaking of a rush, Cater glances down at his phone and then gasps. “We’re going to be late!”
Cater springs up from Azul’s couch. He grabs his handbag from the coffee table, an exclusive Ténèbres bag. He slings it over his shoulder and grins at Azul, “You can ask me anything about your new circumstances in the van, ‘kay? It’ll be a long and boooring talk, but at least Trident’s making sure you get the proper security ASAP!”
“I wouldn’t mind getting to know you instead, Cater,” Azul says as they walk to the door. He returns the smile, watching as Cater stiffens. “I can always ask about the specifics of my circumstance at the company meeting, after all. Wouldn’t it be better to befriend my new manager in the meanwhile?”
“I guess, haha.” Cater rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, “I mean, I kinda expected you to be more concerned about your security circumstances and not whoever’s assigned to you...” He puts on his shoes pensively, voice trailing off.
“Well, I am an attentive idol and you’re my manager. Why wouldn’t I learn more about you?” Azul responds whilst putting on his own shoes. As he stands up, Cater opens the front door for him. “We’ll be best friends by the time this arrangement ends.”
Pearl meows from behind Azul before pressing her head against his shin. She meows again, circling Azul once before he kneels down with a chuckle.
“Goodbye, my darling,” he coos as he scratches her fluffy neck. Pearl purrs. “Be a good girl while I’m gone.”
“Bye, Pearl!” Cater exclaims from the door, waving enthusiastically. Pearl doesn’t respond to him.
The company meeting doesn’t start on time.
At Trident Entertainment, they never do.
The conference room is as silent as the deep sea, save for the occasional rustling of clothes. The atmosphere is tense, undeniably due to the recent peril that’s befallen upon the company’s stocks. Yet, despite the matter demanding for urgency, three seats remain empty. Most notably, the seat that belongs to Trident Entertainment’s golden child remains vacant.
As usual, Azul bitterly thinks. His eyes flicker to Cater, watching as his manager scrolls idly through his phone. Azul glances at the rest of the staff present, each wearing a similar blasè expression as they wait for the prince.
Azul clears his throat.
“Chairman Flint, thank you for listening to my recent concerns,” he begins, pulling up a smile. “Mr. Fontaine’s sudden resignation came as a shock, but Cater has been an adequate replacement. He’s rather passionate about his job.”
At the mention of his name, Cater glances up from his phone. He nods enthusiastically.
“Being with Azul’s been a total blast!” He parrots, “He’s been super adaptable with the company’s situation so far!” At the mention of the company’s circumstances, Chairman Flint gives a strained laugh.
“We’ve been doing our best to accommodate Azul’s needs. After all, managing him has been quite different from Rielle. You’ll have to excuse us for how long it took to honor his requests.” The chairman says and Azul feels the corner of his lips twitch. The chairman turns to look at Azul. “We’re still in the process of maximizing security measures for you, Azul. Cater should be in the process of finding temporary bodyguards for you–”
“Bodyguards?” Azul repeats, face blanching as he remembers the arrangement he made with Floyd.
“I mean, that’s what you were complaining to Mr. Fontaine about, right?” Cater pitches in, “Someone sent you a threat during Midnight Hour, so you wanted the company to increase security measures for you? Cay-Cay’s making sure he finds the best bodyguards for Zullie~ They’ll be here by the end of the week at the latest!”
“I see…” Azul’s voice trails off. “Isn’t this– I mean, wouldn’t you consider the timing of this to be a bit reckless?” He smiles, trying not to show any signs of discomfort, “Mr. Fontaine was my manager until a day or two ago, I hadn’t even been notified that he was leaving–”
“But I thought you needed more security?” Cater interjects, “You’re currently someone’s target, Azul~ Don’t be silly!”
“The management team assigned to you doesn’t have time to dilly-daddle with your upcoming schedule either, Azul.” Chairman Flint adds, “We’re making the necessary arrangements for your safety now before it’s too late.”
Azul doesn’t argue back. He nods obediently, lips pressed into a stubborn line. It’s not like Cater would choose the Leech brothers, out of all candidates. Azul taps his foot against the floor. With how short of a notice these arrangements are, it’s more likely that his bodyguard would be an internal hire.
The conference room falls silent again.
“I can’t believe you spent the entire night playing pickleball of all sports! Who even plays sports in the middle of the night?! ” A fussy voice, muffled, could be heard from down the hall.
“That’s what I thought too, so I decided to join ‘em and see what all the ruckus was about!” Another voice accompanies it, its tone bright yet casual.
“You knew that we had a meeting today! In the morning , nevertheless!”
“Yeah, but it’s the same ol’ stuffy briefing as always. Maybe you should loosen up and try playing pickleball at night, Claret, since you obviously need to destress!”
“ I need to destress?! Sevens– You need to start being serious! This is your family’s agency, Rielle, you can’t just–”
“U-Uhm, guys?” A third, meek voice hesitantly speaks up. “We’re at the door so, um…”
The two arguing voices immediately fall silent.
Then, the door to the conference room opens.
“Good morning, everyone!” A fiery redhead steps into the room, his vibrant smile brightening the room instantaneously. “Sorry we’re late again!” He quickly strides to one of the remaining seats. Behind him, a shorter man sighs.
“ Please , pardon this boy’s manners.” The man says, a dark hand pushing back red ombre locs, “We tried to get him here on time.”
“We also brought s-some pastries and snacks to make up for it!” A smaller boy squeaks, raising up a box. He clumsily places the pastry box at the center of the conference table, then hastily shuffles back to his seat.
“Hello, Rielle.” Azul greets courteously once his fellow singer takes his seat. Rielle perks in surprise, glancing at Azul with wide eyes.
“Azul! You’re still here?!” He exclaims, “Hi!”
Azul blinks. What’s that supposed to mean?
“Hey, hey, Rielle~!” Cater sang, diverting the tanned red-head’s attention. “You look so charming today!” Rielle casts a quizzical look at Cater, clearly not recognizing him. He opens his mouth to give a greeting, but the chairman interrupts their conversation.
“Now that we’re all present for the meeting, we have important matters to discuss.” Chairman Flint points to the projector, “Award show season has begun and, with the year concluding, many of our talents are in demand. Yet, despite this, our company is still struggling with meeting costs…”
Rielle will be co-hosting the 34th Royal Symphonic with Neige LeBlanche. The news comes as a surprise to no one; Director Ambrose LXIII openly favored the prince. Still, the news is received with an unprofessional pout by its recipient.
“Not another pointless ceremony,” Rielle sighs, causing Claret to grimace. “Do you think we can convince good ol’ Ambrose to spice up the programme this year? Something that’ll make it fun and unexpected… like a treasure hunt! Or a spelldrive bout!”
“The contents of the awards show will be determined by Director Ambrose .” Chairman Flint responds pointedly, “You’re free to give him a suggestion, but I doubt there’ll be any chances made this late into the schedule.”
“Y’hear that Claret?” Rielle bumps elbows with his producer, “He says we can send some suggestions.”
“We will not be doing something so ridiculous!” Claret frowns, pushing up round glasses. “Learn to behave for once, Rielle, at least during a meeting…” The two of them presume bickering in hushed whispers. Chairman Flint draws his attention to Azul.
“As for you, Azul…” The chairman grabs something from his coat. Briefly, a concerned look flickers across his features before he takes out an obsidian envelope. “You’ve been summoned for the Murder of Crows. ”
“The Murder of Crows?! ” Cater shrieks, leaping from his seat as if he was the one summoned. “You mean that legendary competition program— the one hosted by the Dire Crowley?!”
“Dire Crowley?” Azul asks, unfamiliar with the name.
“ Murder of Crows was the most popular TV program in recent times– The last broadcast championed the highest viewership that the idol industry’s ever seen!” Cater raves on, hands flailing about. “Omigosh, I can’t believe I’ll get to experience it firsthand!”
“That sounds soooo much more fun than Ambrose’s show.” Rielle groans.
“If the Murder of Crows is so critically acclaimed, why haven’t I heard of it before?” Azul frowns, “Or the name Dire Crowley?”
“Because that man’s plagued with controversy! ” Claret exclaims, then shakes his head in distress. “Everyone’s better off steering clear from that wicked fae and his games!”
“A little controversy never hurt anyone,” Cater rebukes, “No one remembers any of the controversies as well as they remember the champion!”
“Our company is in a precarious situation with its shareholders– Azul especially!” At Claret’s words, Azul winces. “If there’s anyone who should be avoiding any controversy, it should be him!”
“I think the controversy could do him good,” Rielle chimes in, “If the shareholders he’s some sort of fluke, all he needs to do is prove them wrong, right?”
“Right!” Cater agrees, “ Murder of Crows is a show reserved only for the most prominent figures in the entertainment industry. Think about all the opportunities that Azul’s gonna bag if he features in the show! And all of the opportunities that he’ll lose if he passes this opportunity!” Cater turns to Azul, verdant eyes brimming with zeal. “This show might even have you standing on the same stage as Vil Schoenheit! ”
“The same stage as Vil,” Azul repeats breathlessly. He feels his heart race at the mere thought of standing alongside the industry’s giants. Unable to resist the temptation of fame, a grin tickles the corner of his lips. His fingers trace the obsidian envelope’s edges.
“But isn’t someone stalking Azul?” A small voice speaks up and the drawer of letters flash back into Azul’s memories. His stomach drops as the shy composer continues: “I mean– Trident Entertainment increased security measures for him… I don’t know if it’d be wise to send him off to a show with that much controversy…”
“Come ooon, Fintan, no one’s going to harm him!” Rielle whines, slumping into his seat, “Azul should go so we can see what all the commotion’s about!”
“I’ll be making my own decision on whether or not I’ll be accepting the invitation.” Azul announces, firmly ending the bickering. He turns his head to the chairman, “Controversy or not, good results on this show will ensure that the shareholders will continue my sponsorship on land, yes?”
Chairman Flint nods.
“Then tell our shareholders to rest assured.” Azul thrusts a hand onto his chest, eyes bright with determination. “ I’ll win the Murder of Crows. ”
Reality settles firmly on Azul’s shoulder the second he steps outside the company building. In an instant, all bravado he mustered minutes ago fizzes away like seafoam. He collapses against a pillar, knees wobbly now that the adrenaline’s died down.
He’s on the same level as Vil Schoenheit!
He– Azul Ashengrotto– has been invited to a championship reserved for industry elites! Not even Rielle was invited to partake in something so illustrious!!!
A new wave of giddiness swirls in his stomach. Oh, he needs to tell his mom about this! Or maybe he should keep it a secret, so that the news can break to his family as a surprise?! Leaning against the pillar, Azul presses his forehead against the back of his hand, a giggle bubbling from his lips.
Azul Ashengrotto, the name of a legend!
His nails dig into the granite pillar, shoulders shaking.
The desperate, pathetic child who couldn’t carry a tune.
Tone-deaf whale, blubbering walrus–
Piano chords haunt his eardrums, their notes piercing his temple. Azul hisses, wincing.
He can’t get ahead of himself. There’s still a target painted on his back; sharks lurking in the shadows of his newfound fame.
The shareholders he needs to impress, the harassers that need to be addressed, the very sponsorship of his activities ashore being on the line–
The risks being associated with Dire Crowley.
The circumstances surrounding him have become overwhelming— and developing fast.
“Azul, are you okay?” A voice calls to him. A cautious hand places itself onto his shoulder; Azul winces. “You still have a meeting with MALiK to discuss your latest collaboration with them; they’ve prepared samples for your fashion line…”
“Of course.” Azul bites back his nausea and straights himself out. He ignores his shaking fingers. “And what else is on today’s agenda?”
“Well, Claret and Fintan want you and Rielle to meet up with them at the studio later this evening,” Cater recounts, “Since Trident Entertainment’s thinking about a holiday single with the two of you— and then I’ll be busy making arrangements for your new bodyguards! We’re thinking about hiring some by the end of the week at the latest.”
Right. Azul’s expression tightens. There’s the bodyguard predicament too…
“Let’s not waste anymore time, then.” Azul says, “I still need to research more about Dire Crowley and the Murder of Crows as well…”
“Right! Maybe you’ll even be able to find out who the other contestants are too!” Cater bounces excitedly, “When’re you gonna meet Director Crowley?!” As the two of them head towards their van, his gait is accompanied with a cheerful step.
“In two week’s worth of time, the invitation says.” Azul waits for Cater to unlock the doors, then opens the passenger door, “That’ll give me plenty of time to prepare.”
“And plenty of time for us to find you some bodyguards!” Cater adds in, hopping into the driver seat, “Oh, this is so exciting! I can’t wait!”
Neither can I, Azul thinks, his stomach twisting in a combination of fright and excitement. This was going to be the pivotal moment of his career– The end to all means.
The following days pass in a blink of an eye.
There’s no time to rest in between official schedules and researching Murder of Crows. The living room of Azul’s apartment becomes cluttered with documents, fabric swatches, and stray music sheets.
“You know Azul, we finished scouting some bodyguards for you! You’re going to love them,” Cater had said amidst his usual blabbering in the van. Azul gave him an idle hum of acknowledgement, too absorbed in deep-diving for tabloids about Dire Crowley to humor Cater’s prattles. “They’re huuuge– and so intimidating! Everyone at the company were sooo scared of them at first glance— Crazy, right? I just had to hire them— No one’s gonna mess with Zullie with these two giants around, bet!”
“How wonderful,” Azul murmurs, squinting at his tablet. He zooms in on a blurry photo of Crowley’s masked face.
“And you know what the best part is?” Cater continues, “They’re moving to your apartment this Thursday!”
The doorbell rings, snapping Azul out of his thoughts.
Shit, what day was it today?
The doorbell rings again, accompanied by thunderous knocks. Azul frantically turns to his wall calendar, then turns to his phone to double-check. The knocking on his door increases in crescendo before fluttering into a nameless tune. The doorbell doesn’t ring again.
It’s Thursday.
Was someone visiting today? Azul has little time to sift through his memories; whoever’s on the other side of the door is impatient. Pearl yowls from her tower, upset with the sudden racket, as Azul makes his way over to the door in swift strides.
What was happening on Thursday? Azul bemoans Cater’s frustrating talent of sneaking fragments of crucial details amidst his endless gabble of nonsensical chatter. Dire Crowley, Vil Schoenheit, the Ruby Hearts collection– A whirlpool of names, dates, and tasks swarms Azul’s mind as he clicks the lock. Pearl cries from her tower again just as he yanks open the door—
“Surprise!”
Two massive figures fill his vision. Azul’s stomach drops.
‘Everyone at the company were sooo scared of them at first glance— Crazy, right?’ Cater’s preppy voice echoes as Azul stares at two pairs of jagged teeth. He stands there, gaping stupidly as mismatched eyes smile at him in glee.
“Aren’tcha glad t’see us again, Azul?!”
Azul’s fingers twitch. He doesn’t respond. Instead, he acts in a manner that any sane person would:
He slams the door shut.