Chapter Text
Edelgard took a sip of espresso from the porcelain demitasse cup as the rain outside continued to pour. The weather had begun to wear on her. She could only take so many days of non-stop rain before her fingers began to ache with a dull sensation, as if they wanted to break free from her skin. She found that tapping them against a table almost distracted her from the pain. Her employees thought she was getting restless with them, so, with the rain too, the mood in the building had started to feel especially stuffy.
Ferdinand’s voice cut through the gloominess of the rain like a sharpened spear. Upbeat tunes streamed from the tablet Edelgard was holding, as his voice provided a smooth yet cheerful accompaniment. The video was of his most recent concert in Adrestria City last week. The concert had sold out on the first day, and on the day of the show, there wasn’t a single empty seat amidst the sea of lit up fans. As Edelgard scrolled through the video’s comments, she saw mentions of how beautiful the song was, how great a performer Ferdinand was live, and how much fans adored him.
“Hubert,” Edelgard said, tapping her fingers on the oak desk, “What do you think of Ferdinand’s performance?”
Hubert looked up. Most of his work took place in the fields, engaging with managers and producers and PR reps. All he needed was a phone and a computer, no need for his own office in the building, so he preferred to work close with Edelgard.
He hummed. “Honestly speaking, I think he has a certain,” he paused, “charm that the fans like. However, when it comes down to technical skill, he is lacking in many areas.”
Edelgard tapped her chin, watching the performance more closely. She initially had not wanted to sign Ferdinand on to the label, but he already had such a large following, and that meant an easy way to tap into money. Ferdinand also proved easy to shape, as he didn’t mind the type of music he performed, as long as he got to perform at all.
But Hubert was right. They can’t make money on his fanbase alone. He needed to attract new fans to really satisfy his role here. He needed training, even for the basest things like voice control and pitch.
She pinched her temple. “What’s the schedule like for this month? Do we have any coaches free?”
Without looking up, Hubert responded, “Unfortunately, we are quite busy this month. None of the coaches will have any time for him.”
“Put out the net for a new one,” Edelgard said. “Make this a top priority.”
“As you wish, President,” Hubert said. He stood and bowed, then took his leave from her office.
They took a chance with this new project. In the back of her mind, a voice pressed the thought that she was selling out, but Edelgard pushed back. No shame in doing what it took to make money first, to then help others. Black Eagle wasn’t in want of funds, but with Ferdinand on board, he could skyrocket their sales and extend their reach to many more musicians in need of what a record label could bring them. Ferdinand hadn’t needed a Black Eagle record label, nor had he needed their support. Making an investment to help themselves, not just the artist - it was not something Edelgard was used to.
She turned off her tablet and grabbed her rain jacket. No use worrying about this over the weekend, she figured. As she left the building, something compelled her to walk towards downtown, instead of towards the train to head home. Being at home would just exacerbate her thoughts on the whole Ferdinand project. Plus, the silence wouldn’t do well to distract her from the aches in her fingers. Most importantly, it was Friday night, and it would do her some good to get out of the house and out of work once in a while.
Around the corner from the office was Mittelfrank, a coffee shop by day where Edelgard frequented in the mornings, and a bistro by night. Never having gone there in the evening, Edelgard decided to stop in for dinner.
Inside, a softness in the air welcomed her. Not humid or musty, but cozy. A dark, muted lighting dotted with tiny candle flares sat amongst the patrons at each table. The seating tables circled around a small elevated stage, the one thing in the bistro fully illuminated. Only a metal folding chair and mic stand stood on the stage.
Edelgard ordered a rare steak with a side of red wine. She enjoyed the way the drink softened her edges -- she found that things had begun to take a sharp, jagged form. She could handle hard, but that hardness had sharpened into something painful, insistent. Perhaps it was the weeks-long rain that was still sweeping over the city, perhaps it was the Ferdinand project, perhaps it was the constant ache in her fingers these days. Edelgard had no care for the true reason, she just wanted it to disappear, and so she drank only until things became a little velvety in her vision.
The spotlight pointed at the stage flickered off, and the sound of conversations in the crowd hushed.
In a few moments, the light shone back on the stage again, where now a woman sat with an acoustic guitar. Long brown hair fell down her shoulders, bare from the off-shoulder red dress that flared at her legs. She raised her head, facing the crowd and showing her bright green eyes. Two giant jewels hung from her ears, and the glint caught Edelgard’s eye.
If the sound from the patrons eating and drinking had comforted her in its anonymity, the silence, while watching this woman on the stage, swept Edelgard in this moment with a longing to know and to be known.
The woman began strumming on her guitar, it’s sound amplified by the quietness in the bistro. The tune seemed jazzy, albeit a bit simple. She leaned towards the mic.
If you see how the days go
If you see me and think of home
Ooo~ Why don’t you take my hand
And we’ll brighten our days together?
Her voice was almost husky but with a strong clarity. She handled each note with disciplined mastery, but to an untrained ear, she made it seem effortless. Both her technique and her tone sounded classically trained, and combined with the tune of her guitar, her voice and lyrics enveloped every lucky patron in a smooth, luxurious air.
The woman closed her eyes and continued to strum and hum against the tune while bopping her head. The jewels on her earrings swayed with her, and Edelgard couldn’t help but stare at them.
The woman’s first song ended. Applause roared from the crowd. A few whistles here and there.
Edelgard sat still with the glass of wine in her palm.
The woman adjusted the mic. “Thank you, everyone. How are we doing tonight?”
Another round of applause. Her speaking voice sounded just as controlled and husky as her singing voice.
“That was a little number I wrote a few years ago, when things weren’t going too great in my life. I want to thank everyone here tonight. Being able to be up here and sing to an audience, it’s a dream come true. Now, let’s move on the next song.”
She began strumming again, this time to an upbeat tune and poppy lyrics. Her voice rose higher in pitch, and Edelgard could tell that even though she sounded more carefree than in her first song, the laxness in her voice was still being controlled by her technique. Had Edelgard been younger and less experienced with music, she would’ve missed it.
A half eaten steak went cold on her plate as the night went on.
For her last song, the woman placed her guitar to the side of the stage. The lights dimmed to darkness. A melody trickled from the bistro’s sound system. When the spotlight shined on the stage again, the woman was standing in front of the mic.
The beats from the sound system had a RnB rhythm to them, with a keyboard accompaniment. A round, dreamy sound.
The woman began to sing, loudly and clearly, her voice cutting through the softness of the music. It rose and permeated the air, expanding, spreading, through the whole space until there was no room for anything else but her impassioned tones. Her voice did not hypnotize but rather it invigorated, enlivened. Not a single person in the crowd could say their heart wasn’t moved by the ballad, at least a little bit.
When the song ended, Edelgard felt the hairs on her arms standing upright. The crowd around her broke into a raucous applause and cheers.
The woman bowed. “Thank you, everyone, thank you! That’s all for tonight. Please come back again next week!” She winked, then gave a cute, tasteful wave of her fingers to the crowd.
The sound of patrons talking and murmuring filled the room again as the singer walked off the stage towards the bar. Edelgard rose and cut through the crowd. The singer had just finished ordering a drink, when she turned around to see Edelgard approaching her.
The jewels hanging from her ears and neck gleamed as the singer moved, and Edelgard forced herself to stop avoiding her face and snapped her gaze up from the jewelry. Her eyes were a much brighter green up close, Edelgard noticed. She suddenly felt awkward, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Your voice,” she started. “Wow, your voice is incredible.”
The woman seemed to be analyzing her tone while she searched her face. What she found must have been pleasing, for she broke into a giggle.
“You think so? Little old me?”
“I do think so,” Edelgard said. “Erm…”
“Call me Dorothea,” she said. “Should I call you Edelgard, or is that not your real name?”
Edelgard froze. “Do you know--”
“You come in here every morning, right? Double espresso with whipped cream.” She winked. “Not your typical drink, is it? I wanted to see what this ‘Edelgard’ person looked like.”
Edelgard hummed. “I’ve never seen you here before.” She would’ve known if she’d seen this woman.
“I make the drinks behind the bar,” she said, pointing to the espresso machine underneath the wall of alcoholic drinks. “And you always look so focused, I don’t doubt that you’ve never noticed me.”
Edelgard flushed, embarrassed that she knew so much about her, while Edelgard knew nothing of her. She couldn’t pinpoint why this made her so uncomfortable, nor could she understand the sudden impulse to apologize.
“Work is busy most days,” Edelgard said. “But I’ll try to make an effort to say hi next time I’m here.”
Dorothea beamed. “I’d love that. Really. Did you know that when you’re checking your phone or not paying attention to little old me, that guy you’re always with is glaring at me? You think he was watching to see if I’d poison your drink or something!”
Ah, Hubert. “He can be a bit...excessive at times,” Edelgard admitted. Then, rushedly, “He’s a good friend of mine. We work at the same company.”
Dorothea’s eyebrow rose, and she hummed. “And what company is that?”
The bartender handed her the drink she’d ordered. It was an orange thing with a heavy fruity aroma. She offered it to Edelgard.
“I work at Black Eagle Entertainment,” Edelgard said, after sipping the drink and returning it to Dorothea. “I’m the founder actually.”
Something in Dorothea’s face darkened, but as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, replaced again by an effortlessly flirty look.
“Oh, I’ve heard of that name once or twice before,” she said. Edelgard couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. She coughed.
“Dorothea, your voice isn’t like anything I’ve ever heard,” she said.
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” Dorothea laughed.
“I’m serious.” The thought popped into Edelgard’s head, and she thought she was a genius. “Here,” she pulled out a business card from her wallet. “If you’re not under a record label right now, please consider joining Black Eagle.”
Dorothea eyed the card. “Now I’m sure this is what you say to any girl who can sing,” she said.
“I’m not a talent scout,” Edelgard pressed. “Trust me, I just--” she stuttered. “I haven’t heard a voice like yours ever since I founded the company, and even since before that.”
Edelgard could tell she sounded desperate, but she didn’t want to let this go. Dorothea’s singing, it reminded her faintly of something, something she refused to let herself feel ever since she came up with the idea to start the company. She hadn’t felt it in all the years working with the musicians on the label, and she had started to think that this feeling had died.
Now that she had a taste of it again, she was going to cling on to it. She didn’t care how she looked.
Dorothea still hadn’t taken the card. Edelgard took out a pen from her pocket and scribbled on it.
“Here’s my personal cell,” she said, offering it again. “You don’t have to make a decision right now, but please think about it. After you do, call me.”
Dorothea was expressionless as she took the card with both hands. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” She squinted at her.
Edelgard nodded. “Just call me anytime,” she said.
A coy smile came over Dorothea’s blank face. “We’ll see, lady killer,” she said, winking. “I’m heading home for the night. I’ll see you Monday morning, Edie.”
A disappointment she couldn’t explain ran through Edelgard, until she caught her senses again. She waved goodbye to Dorothea, realizing that in her absence, her chest had felt lighter than it had since the beginning of this rain storm. And, despite the weather, she noticed that she had been completely distracted from the pain in her fingers, starting from the moment Dorothea had sung her first note.