Silent Requiem

Nick pushed through the cafe door, a slight irritation creeping up his spine as he mentally ran through the checklist of everything he had to do. Nothing was fair, if only things were given at a silver platter like that dunce Tyler had, he wouldn't mind living in the mockery of other people. The gig at the Watchtower was creeping up fast, and he'd barely had time to breathe, let alone prep properly. He shoved the door open, eyes scanning the room for Lily.

He spotted her in the corner, already settled into a chair by the window, smoking one of those thin cigarettes she was so fond of, her gaze distant but sharp, like always. Nick walked over, muttering under his breath about the damned scheduling conflicts, and sat down opposite her. 

"Late again, huh?" Lily's lips curled into a small, knowing grin as she flicked the ash off her cigarette. "Figures."

"Yeah, well, I don't get to skip classes like some people," Nick muttered, not even bothering to meet her eyes. He had enough of school to last a lifetime, and today was no exception. When's the vacation anyway? He grumbled.

He was here for one thing--get the vocalist for their gig at the Watchtower sorted. Nothing more.

Lily looked like she was about to say something, but then she just leaned forward, eyes gleaming in that mischievous way they always did when she had something to drop on him.

"You know who the vocalist is, right?"

Nick's brows furrowed. Feeling a sudden tense feeling in his heart. "You told me I'd find out when I got here. I'm here. So, who is it?"

Lily's grin only widened, her voice suddenly laced with a slight undertone of amusement and a touch of disbelief. "Elisa Denaire."

Nick blinked. "Elisa? Denaire?" The name hit him like a bag of bricks. He'd heard of her—everyone had. Elisa Denaire wasn't just any vocalist. She was a name spoken in hushed tones, her presence a cocktail of rich girl charm and dark, impossible, and damned demands.

And the kicker? She wasn't just some bored heiress wanting to sing. Oh no, Elisa was untouchable in the weirdest, most dangerous way. She had people in the dark who made sure of that. People who whispered in the corners of Santos' back alleys, who paid off the clubs where the kind of people with doodle's for family jewels, and who kept her protected in ways Nick could only begin to imagine. And she had style--but it wasn't the kind of style Nick was used to. This wasn't the "cool" kind of rich girl. No, Elisa was the sinister kind. The kind that wore dark lace, black lipstick, and had eyes that could freeze you in your tracks.

"Shit," Nick muttered under his breath. This wasn't what he had signed up for. He'd heard rumors about her voice, sure. But he'd also heard that she had absurd demands. Stories. Ridiculous stories about her, though never heard of these so called stories.

"Isn't she the worst demanding singer for the Back-alley gigs?" Nick asked.

Lily took a slow puff, and stared at him strangely. With a look of it-is-what-it-is and said, "Oh so you haven't heard of the stories..." She smiled.

He leaned back, his eyes staring at her fingers.

"Yeah, heard they were ridiculous," Nick said.

He heard a snicker from the girl opposite him, something about her changed.

"That is why I told you that you will find out. She's a walking legend in the most ridiculous way. If there's one thing you'll learn about her, it's that she's built an empire of absurdity around herself." She smoked once again, as if what she was about to spill would take a huge load on her shoulders.

"During an event that was held at Umbra, that damned institution of poets, Elisa refused to appear on stage until her wardrobe was perfectly organised. For nearly two hours, she locked herself in her dressing room, which she claimed needed to be 'arranged according to astrological alignment'."

"I'm not dealing with some high-society princess who expects to be worshipped. I've got enough drama in my life without a whole damn circus." Nick complained.

Lily continued," Nick. She's got demands. Like, it's not enough for her to just sing. She needs things. Stuff like the temperature of her tea—has to be exactly 82.5 degrees. If it's one degree too hot, she'll send someone screaming for the door. Then there's her candles. And the fish tanks. Damn, there's some ugly stories about the fish tank."

Nick blinked at her, a laugh bubbling up that he didn't bother hiding. "Oh, fantastic. So I'm stuck with a diva who can't even handle her tea without a meltdown. God, that sounds like an absolute riot."

"You'd better get used to it," Lily chuckled, "But here's the thing. She can sing. Like, really sing. It's raw. You'll see when she opens her mouth."

Nick's face went flat. "Right. She can sing. But if she starts demanding more candles or pulling Tarot cards in the middle of rehearsal, I swear I'm throwing my guitar out the window."

"Trust me, you'll get through it." Lily leaned back, her smile wicked again. "But be ready. She's a lot."

Nick let out a long breath, shifting in his seat, trying to contain his irritation. He had no time for the petty games of rich, spoiled brats. But if Elisa could really deliver on that voice, maybe it would be worth it. Maybe. "I swear, if she tries to pull any of that bullshit, I'm walking. I'm not here for some goddamn performance art."

He grabbed his coat, its texture made the feeling about the gig worse."But hey, I'll give it a shot. I'll deal with the candles, the fish tanks, the tea tantrums—just don't expect me to kiss her damn boots when she starts complaining about the coffee."

Nick leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face. This was not going to be a walk in the park. "She doesn't exactly sound like the kind of person who'd need a gig to get by."

Lily shrugged, taking another drag from her cigarette. "She doesn't. But the Watchtower gig's different. The atmosphere, the sound--it's what she craves. And the band? She'll run this show, believe me. You're just the backup."

Nick's jaw tightened, but he didn't say anything. He wasn't sure whether to be irritated or intrigued. Either way, he had to deal with it. At least Lily seemed to think she'd be good for it.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Elisa herself walked through the door with an almost theatrical flair. The cafe seemed to quiet around her like the whole place had just realized it was in the presence of something… other. She wasn't even trying to make an entrance, but the energy shifted the second she stepped inside.

Elisa was wrapped in a velvet black dress that clung to her like a second skin, her dark makeup artfully smudged, as though she had stepped right out of some ethereal, eerie dream. Her raven hair cascaded down her back in waves, her pale skin a stark contrast to the deep reds and blacks that clung to her.

He stood there, his mind racing for something smart to say, because that's what he did--he always had something smart to say. Something to knock the pretentious vibe down a peg. But honestly, for a moment, even Nick couldn't help but appreciate the sheer dramatic force of the whole thing.

A dry laugh slipped out before he could stop it.

Her eyes found Nick and Lily immediately, and for a moment, her lips twisted into a knowing smirk.

"Charming," she drawled, voice thick with that rich, smoky tone. "I'll have my usual. And for the rest of you... Well, I suppose you'll get used to my demands soon enough."

Nick shot a glance at Lily, who simply shrugged again, as though to say you're on your own now. He didn't say anything, just waited for Elisa to make her way to their table.

Elisa slid into the seat beside Lily, her eyes lazily surveying the two of them before settling on Nick. There was a glimmer of something unsettling in those eyes, a predatory calm that made Nick's skin crawl just a little.

"Well, shit," he muttered, letting the coat fall from his hands. "I didn't think you'd actually look the part. Thought it was all just some silly stories."

He took a step forward, wiping his fingers on his pants like he was ready to get to work.

"Damn, I feel like I just stepped into some kind of spooky poetry reading. You going for a 'Witch in hell' vibe, or just pretending you're some kinda misunderstood ghost?"

He didn't wait for a reply. Didn't care if she gave him one. He was already past that point--he was in a zone, and if she had to deal with his brand of it, so be it.

His eyes lingered on her, but there wasn't the usual sting of mockery. Nah. Just a deep, resigned kind of observation. Like he was watching someone walk in a circle and pretending like he wasn't fascinated.

Elisa's lips curled into a faint smile, but it wasn't a friendly one. Her eyes, cold and dark, locked onto Nick as she took a slow step forward, the hem of her velvet dress shifting like it had a life of its own. "Not a misunderstood ghost." She let out a quiet, almost silken laugh, something about her eyes shifted. "More like... the kind of nightmare that leaves a scar."

He gave her a half smile, nodding slightly, not backing down, but keeping the tension just enough in check to avoid going too far. "Don't worry, I won't be the one waking up screaming. But hey, if that's what you're going for, I'm sure you'll nail it."

He paused, leaning back a bit, letting the silence hang just long enough. "Just... try not to bite my head off. We've got a performance to get through, yeah?"

"Alright, let's just get this over with." Lily dropped her cigarette and stomped on it.

Nick, on the other hand, picked his coat back up, and put it on, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You're the vocalist, right? Don't let the whole 'nightmare' thing get in the way of actually singing."

A slow, wry grin crept onto his face, not a hint of malice, just... pure, unfiltered Nick.

Elisa gave him a long stare.

"You must be the infamous Nick." She tilted her head, voice dripping with a touch of amusement. "I've heard quite a lot about you... though, I must say, I expected you to be a bit more..." she trailed off, her gaze flicking to his clothes, his hair, his generally disheveled look. "...refined."

Nick gave her a tight smile. "And I expected you to show up on time, not make the whole café feel like we're in the middle of a funeral procession."

She just laughed, low and dark, like the sound of an orchestra tuning before a wicked performance.

"Ah, darling, I never show up on time. It's part of the charm. Besides," she leaned in closer, her voice suddenly softer, almost teasing, "I'll make up for it when I'm on stage, won't I?"

Nick didn't respond. He just let out a breath and nodded, already thinking about the chaos this was going to cause. He didn't doubt her talent. No, it was more about how she'd try to take over every damn thing, how her people would be lurking behind the scenes, ensuring everything went her way. But he didn't have a choice now.

"So," Elisa continued, as though she hadn't just sent a shockwave through Nick's entire system, "What do we need to discuss? I have my conditions, of course, but you've probably heard them before."

Nick swallowed hard, meeting her gaze. "I'll make sure you're heard," he said, his voice sharp with unspoken warnings. "But don't think for a second you're gonna walk all over this band."

Her lips curled up into a smile, one that told him exactly how much of a challenge she thought he was going to be. "We'll see," she whispered.

"And I'll see if you can actually deliver, love. Or if we're just wasting time playing dress-up."

Lily grinned when she heard Nick, already imagining the calamitous performance unfold.