The heavy curtain ripples as I run my hand over the worn, heavy material, the familiar essence of sweat, tears and dust invading my space as I inhale deeply through my nose, eyes closed and shoulders back. Any murmurings of the crowd beyond the weighted fabric have been entirely silenced, the only sound accompanying me backstage the steady beating of my heart. Soon—soon—I will be beyond this musky, cramped space and out where I'm supposed to be—where I belong. Serenity settles over my mind at the thought that it's just mere seconds before the cycle will start all over again, and I caress the ruby gem hanging from my neck, all possibilities of nerves evaporating.

My hand suddenly wrenches forward and tightens on the curtain when the tell-tale clicking of the stage below me indicates that the show is about to start, and I feel the tranquil pumping in my chest crescendo. Lightning bolts cascade down my spine when I glance down in time to see the bold blue and purple lights stretching out from the stage to touch my shadow, accompanied by dregs of smoke. The mechanics whir and click right below me, and I cannot help the smile on my face, knowing that Aria and Sonata have already been risen to the stage, and I count to five before silently slipping between the fabric and stalking forward, the predator to my adoring prey. Then, I raise the mic up to my lips—take one more deep breath—and release all of my inhibitions.

Starting at pianissimo, I barely hear the hum myself as I take calculated, lethargic steps towards the front of the stage, my hips deliberately swaying to the tantalizing rhythm. As the crescendo builds, my members begin to harmonize with me, following my lead. Sonata's teal and Aria's violet lights fight for the spotlight, but there is no obvious competition once my dazzling gold spills out from behind me, the audience's faces illuminated in the glittering glow, admiration shining in their eyes as I come to a complete stand still.

A dramatic pause.

Thump thump.

A needed breath.

Thump thump.

My spotlight bathing me in it's golden glow.

Thump thump.

A smirk painted onto my lips.

And that's when the magic strikes.

The shock is tangible as the music blindsides the audience. Our voices—the very beings of our souls crafted over eons—intertwine flawlessly with such ease that I take time to let my gaze linger on the audience. I peruse the crowd as casually as possible, even so that my own members don't notice. But my eyes are meticulously searching and holding back from darting from face to face. All I want to—no, all I need to see—is that signature flash of scarlet and aureolin hair that is present at every performance.

Though it may seem as if I have no time nor care for my loyal and adoring fans, there is but one exception to that fact. The one who stands out from the rest, the flicker that turned into a flame. I do not know her name. I most certainly don't understand her character. All I truly know about her is that her hair is woven from fire itself. But...

But then I see her face. Her expression matches that of everyone in the crowd, but just...her. She's just different from the rest. Her very being seems to shine with a soft, tremulous light; her eyes so honest, so pure, it's sweeter than the very turbulent feelings I feed off of. To watch her face write pure, raw emotion is the definition of bliss itself.

Outstretching my hand, I curl my fingers seductively, the signature evocative nature of my dances driving the energy of the room upwards. I flutter my eyelashes over my cheekbones and watch through half-lidded eyes as they all fall deeper into our song. I can't help myself—a feral grin stretches over my lips as I drink in the attention, the taste of power almost cloying in this amount. Bodies sway, lips mouth our siren songs and sparks burst as the song approaches the end, my heart rate excelling as I briefly sweep my eyes over her and realize her eyes are only for me.

That wouldn't be the same if she knew the real me.

The thought is shattering as it is true. For no human, no mere mortal could even comprehend who I am let alone...accept it. Though I have never been ashamed of my true nature—a siren. But ever since she has started attending I can't help myself in questioning that statement. She is a precarious jewel dangled in front of me—close enough to taste but never within my physical grasp. And it bestirs in me something I've never felt before; longing. Heartache rapidly evolves into sheer rage, and I tilt my head back, belting out all of the ecstasy and fury built up over the song. The force makes my eyes flutter shut and my body shake as my voice echoes all around me. My pendant glows as the crowd roars their approval—hands clapping and voices screaming out, "Adagio!"—and I breathe the pleasure in deeply, a smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. Soon, a hand tugs at my wrist and I bow with my members, making sure to keep my eyes away from her.

Another pull at my hand indicates that it's time to return, and I take the lead backstage. A ponytail and a pair of pigtails continue without me once we're secured behind the curtain, and I make an offhanded excuse to stay as I remove my equipment. Placing my microphone on the small table, I glance around and make sure I'm alone before stalking towards the break in the curtain. I delicately part the heavy fabric, just enough for my right eye to peek out. My stomach jumps when I see a familiar girl still glued to her chair, lips pressed together and eyes a shining. She doesn't move for what seems a millennium, and I can't seem to move either, completely fascinated as I watch. Humans have never made sense, and she is no exception—she's even more bewildering. Why is she so special? How come she has an aura to her, one that almost glows? One of these days, I know I won't be able to resist her. It's only a matter of time—to desire and keep quiet is worse punishment than being banished to this awful world.

I recede further back when she suddenly stands up, a small smile adorning her pretty face as a crystal droplet runs off of her chin. I have an impulse to do something when she turns around, but I keep still as she walks up the stairs, skin glistening brighter than the ruby around my neck. I can't get over it, not sure if I should be puzzled or irritated by the way she shines. It's so soft—so subtle—but I can see it. I can see the way she is, how she...What is the word? She's..she's...

A small smile tugs at the sides of my mouth as she vanishes from the hall.

She's shimmering.

Author's Notes:

So, I sort of gave into pressure and my own desires to continue this story and voila! There you have it folks—Adagio's POV!

Now, you may wonder. " Do you plan on making a sequel to this sequel? " And that answer is yes, yes I am Though it started out as a spontaneous drabble, I've sort of fallen in love with this semi-au I've created and want it to end on a less bitter note than longing love

For now, enjoy the two little one-shots but I will soon be adding the third installment which may or may not be chaptered...

Ah, I've said too much! Anyways, I hope you liked/loved/loathed it and that you'll add your thoughts in the comments...Once again, really chill on the grammar to be artistic, but I always want to correct my spelling mistakes!

Thank you for reading and have a wonderful day~