Chapter Text
There she stood, front and center on the small stage. Her soft purple hair was pulled back into a bun and pinned into place. A bundle of strands lay free, falling just to the side of her face framing her cheek. A dress of silk hugs her gentle curves, faintly shining iridescent pink and blue in the lone spotlight. Delicate fingers wrap around the microphone on the stand in front of her. The piano beside her played softly, leading into her queue. She brought her lips to the microphone and began to sing again, her voice smooth and intimate. Her eyes glance to the crowd before her.
Soft lights rim a room full of party guests. They are all dressed to the utmost level of extravagance. Fine silks and wool cling to their frames. Gold and silver jewelry hung from ears and necks. Rings adorned with shimmering stones wrap each finger. Every perfume and cologne mix with the hazy smoke of cigars making a cocktail of scent that hangs in the air like a haze. It would be overstimulating to anyone below this class, but this is the air they breathe on the regular. This was the highest of high society.
They clink their glasses together in a toast to some partnership or good fortune. Wait staff circle the room exchanging long empty glasses for chilled fresh ones. Many of them have an implant at their temple giving them direct orders. They are like bees zipping around the room working with maximum efficiency. They had to unless they wanted punishment bestowed upon them by the reception host.
The music lightly swelled, hitting that final chorus. The chords ringing with fervor then falling into the chime of a few notes before halting at songs end.
Not a single guest applauded. They never did. The music was just a backing track to the film they found themselves in. The singer let out a subtle sigh before taking her leave from the stage, the piano starting back up again behind her.
She slips behind the curtain, finding her handler there waiting for her with water and a handkerchief.
“Don’t let them get to you, Rumi. You are doing great out there,” he spoke with a slight smile on his face.
“Thanks Bobby.” She accepts the offer of water and takes a sip. “It’s just tough to perform for a group that is so… uninterested.”
His face softens a touch, the corner of his mouth pressing into his cheek as he dabs the sweat from her brow. “That’s just how they are, always so busy negotiating their deals and partnerships. Just know that your performances are very appreciated. We wouldn’t be getting the work if it wasn’t. So many of these corporate types keep requesting you specifically.”
His eyes and expression suddenly jolt to life. “Speaking of. I have you booked for a very important reception at the end of the month. The DN Enterprises global summit. All of the top industry leaders will be there. This might be the biggest show you have ever performed.”
Rumi was stunned by the news. Her eyes widened a touch at the thought of performing for the most powerful group of people in the world. “H-how did you manage to negotiate that?”
“It took some string pulling and a lot of soju, but I managed to get Celine to talk with the event staff. She’s been avoiding scheduling anything with them ever since… “ his voice trailed off, not wanting to mention the specifics. “But she did agree that this was good for business and that you were ready for a step up like this.”
Rumi’s eyes dropped to the floor at his comment. Her hand tightened around the glass. Memories she wanted to keep locked away were starting to creep back to the forefront. She shook her head and brought her attention back to Bobby. His hand was now resting on her shoulder, providing a little comfort.
“I know I am ready,” she stated with confidence. An idea creeped into her mind. Maybe Bobby can do something similar to help her out, get her what she wants most. “Since you are such a good negotiator could you maybe… negotiate a break for me?” She looked at him with a silent plea.
Bobby was slightly taken aback. His hand returned to his side. “A break? You have shows booked for weeks. I can’t just call and cancel them. It’s bad for business and our whole image.”
“What would be worse for business is a singer having to pull out of the biggest conference of the year because she lost her voice doing all of these small shows.” Her eyebrow raised and a smirk appeared on her face.
Bobby sighed in defeat. “I will see what I can do. No promises. You know how protective she can be.” He pulls out his phone and frantically scrolls through his contacts. “Now don’t let this take over your head. You still have an hour left of this gig.” His hands guide Rumi back to the stage. A gentle nudge through the curtain and he turns away to attend to his pending negotiations.
Rumi took to the stage once more. She gave a small smile to the pianist who returned with a soft nod. Her mind was racing. The thought of having even an ounce of freedom made her giddy. She used that feeling to power through the remainder of her set, but something deep down was stirring. Deep in her gut she felt a growing sense of fear. A fear of history repeating itself.
Rumi was escorted back to her apartment by a set of bodyguards personally assigned to her by Sunlight Media. Celine has always been so protective of her. She was held under close watch, never allowed to go anywhere on her own. Celine had reason to be as such. Ever since Rumi’s mother passed, Celine was holding onto her like she would disappear if she let go. It was the last piece she had of her, the person she could not protect, could not save.
The door to the apartment hissed, sliding open. Rumi turned to the guards and gave them a polite bow before the door closed, locking with a small click. She stared at it for a moment before letting out a heavy exhale, not realizing she was holding her breath. She turned to face her dwelling.
It was pristine. Not an item out of place. White walls and ceilings laden with recessed lighting strips where the two met. It was almost sterile in a way like it was a cell rather than a home. Her personal cage.
Rumi strode to a panel on the wall, pressing its keys and lowering the lights to a comfortable level for this time of night and adjusting climate control. Her shoes slipped off and stowed in a compartment by the door. She moved to the large floor to ceiling windows that lined the far wall of her apartment. The city outside was alive with a rainbow of colors leaking from below skyscrapers. The soft patter of rain playing an overture to the scene. She imagines the sound of crowds bustling the streets, the laughter of comradery and the yelling of arguments. All of them just… living. It all felt so close yet so far away like it was just out of her reach.
She would always find herself standing at the window each night, looking out longingly. She had been down on the street before, but it was all in broad daylight with a security escort. Never once was she allowed to explore the vast expanse of streets and alleyways, looking for those hidden gem ramyeon stands or fruit carts. Nightlife was certainly off limits. Curfew was strict. Who knows the dangers that lurk on those streets and night, Celine would always warn her. It was not a safe place for someone of higher societal standing. She would be eaten alive.
A chime overhead rang out, snapping Rumi out of her trance and pulling her back to reality.
“Incoming call from Bobby”, the computer voice spoke out.
“Put it through.”
A beep echoed indicating the call was connected. Rumi collected herself a moment before speaking. “Hi Bobby.”
“Hey Rumi. I made a few, well a lot of phone calls and…” He paused for a moment, building the anticipation in the singer’s chest. “I managed to arrange for you a two week break.”
A smile broke out on Rumi’s face. Finally, she would be able to relax and shed some of this pressure building around her.
“The higher ups were hesitant. Cancelling shows is not an easy thing to explain and it could lose valuable clients, but they agreed that we need to be focusing on the biggest stage. Keeping you in good shape is the most important thing for the company.”
“Thanks, Bobby. This really means a lot.” Her voice was softer than usual. It almost sounded like she was about to break down and cry. Her mask was slipping away.
Bobby could sense the change in her tone over the line. “Hey are you ok? Was it something I said?”
She quickly reassured him, throwing back on her usual mask of confidence. “No no no. You did nothing wrong. This whole day has been exhausting. I’m just tired and really need the rest. Both of us could really use this break.”
Our faults and fears must never be seen.
The mantra echoed in her head. It’s what she has been told for as long as she can remember. Those emotions only showed weakness.
Bobby’s sigh was picked up and played over the speaker. “Yeah, I suppose we both do. Be sure to rest up. Oh and before I go. If you are going out at any point during this break, there will be a security escort.”
“Bobby, please,” she whined.
“Rumi, you know I don’t make the rules. Celine does. She wants the best for you, you know that.” The call went quiet. Rumi had shut her eyes trying to collect herself. It may have only been a few moments but it felt like eternity before Bobby spoke again. “Get some rest. I’ll check in with you in a few days.” The chime of the call being ended echoed in the room. Rumi was left by herself in silence.
Her ears rang out in the quiet. She was still standing by the window with her eyes pressed shut. Her arms crossed over her chest, left hand grasping at her right bicep desperately trying to ground herself.
No. No. No no no. She’s been desperately trying to gain more freedom. Trying each year since she turned 18, but it was all pushed aside. ‘It’s too dangerous out there. I don't want you to suffer her same fate. You will be safe under my watchful eye.’ All told to her by Celine. Rumi shook her head. No. I am not just some bird in a cage.
She gasped for air, not realizing she was holding it since the call ended. Her emotions were boiling over. The anger and frustration were taking over. Her eyebrows furrowed and her jaw clenched, gritting her teeth together. She lunged forward planting the end of a balled fist to the window trying to smash it open. It was no use against the special plexi. Oh how desperately she wanted to shatter it and fly free into the night like a little songbird. Fly to places where no one could reach her. Where she could just let the wind guide her to a new life. Letting go of her tension she fell into the cold embrace of the window, sliding to her knees.
Her breathing slowly began to calm. Her eyes opened again, staring past her rain soaked reflection in the window and out to the blur of the city streets below. She still had a play in her life, her fate. She just had to get away. The city was huge. If she could slip away from the security, there is no way they would be able to find her amongst the moving crowds and trains.
She needed to find the perfect opportunity. She needed to have a plan.
Patrons line the streets, working their way to their nightly hangouts. Bars with doors wide open let the sound of clinking glasses and heavy conversation leak out to those on the concrete walks outside. A scuffle or two got taken outside to settle the score. These are the average denizens of the city. A variety of characters just trying to get through this miserable life they have found themselves in. Feeling like ants beneath the towering buildings housing the rich and powerful. The people that put them at the bottom.
A few small groups chatter outside the bars in various states of dress. The rain glides down the leather of their clothes, soaking into exposed skin and torn cotton. Cigarettes press to their lips, taking a long draw before continuing their stream of thoughts. A figure emerges from the dark of the alley, stepping into the center of the street drawing the eye of those outside. A tall slender frame adorned in a knee length leather jacket stands before them. The jacket is unbuttoned with sleeves rolled just below the elbow and hood drawn. The crowd voices hush and look towards the individual.
Slowly they begin to walk down the pavement. Their pace is deliberate and intimidating. It’s graceful. Like a model strutting down the runway. Exterior building lights highlight the jagged edges of their silhouette. Dark, roughed up combat boots make way for slender legs of oiled metal with imperfections capturing the colors around like a mosaic. Hanging chains clatter break through the silence, echoing off the brick shells of the buildings.
No one dared to mutter a word. A few ducked back into their establishment of choice. The figure strutted with a purpose. Their eyes focused ahead on their target. They come to a stop with a heavy step into a puddle and the scraping of asphalt from the opposite foot. Their eyes set towards that of a tall building at the center of a tee intersection. Lights shown from the top most floors. Likely some kind of party taking place.
A silence hung in the air uncomfortably long. Slowly, they tilt their head up at the building. A small grunt escaped their lips before spitting on the concrete in front of the door.
“Fucking Corpos.”
They turned away from the building. The neon lights outlining their frame as they slowly walked down a side street into the night.