Crescendo:

Ashley considered herself rather fortunate tending the bar at The Night Cat. It was an original kind of place, a thoroughly under-appreciated Melbourne icon if you asked her. Many called it simply a bar but the Cat was more a ‘live music venue’ whose eclectic artists appealed to everyone. You never could predict what would be happening at the Cat, it was satisfying diverse, hosting anything from Hip Hop to Reggae on any given night.

Ashley undeniably felt she was made for this line of work. She rather enjoyed meeting new people, conversing with the regulars and being exposed to a variety of musical genres and artists she had an edge on her Bachelor of Music. Whilst she enjoyed the job, there was an intelligence about her which spoke of greater things then just mixing girls and washing glasses. She may have enjoyed the job but she didn't quite suit it somehow. Whenever someone new walked into the place their eyes were often drawn to her rather than the central stage. She was like a stained glass window in a brick wall, she stood out. She was beautiful, no one but Ashley could deny that. She’d move amongst the tables with liquid grace, removing used glasses, brown hair trailing neatly over one shoulder. Her lips always held a gentle smile, the other girls wanted to hate her for being so stunning but because she always had a kind word for everyone no one could bring themselves too.

Everyone was sure once she’d finished her course she’d be moving places, using her Cat connections she’d be in the music industry like a shot. Her songs – many whose lyrics were written down on scrap paper at the bar themselves – would reach the top of the pops. Her regulars couldn't understand though why she didn't want to sing them herself. Many had heard her singing whilst she composed during her breaks and no one could deny that she was truly talented. Whenever they mentioned it to her, Ashley would just smile and shrug, claiming she was nothing special and artists these days needed a stage presence she simply didn't have.

One night Ashley was sitting on a stool at the bar working on her homework, the band was setting up, a line already forming at the door for opening time. She heard a sudden wail and instinctively turned to see what happened. Kat, the owner was kneeling next to Janice, one of their regulars’ artists holding her hand over a rather nasty cut on her forearm. Ashley moved and before Kat could call for her was standing besides them offering her a clean towel. Kat nodded to her, wrapping Janice arm up and hurriedly took her to the hospital leaving Ashley and the rest of the band to try and figure out what to do for music that night. The band was bummed, the crowd expecting, in the end Ashley had been ‘encouraged’ to step up and offer her services and after all she did know the lyrics by heart.

So there she stood, illuminated by light instead of hidden behind her bar in faded denim jeans, her white tank top and tailored black jacket. The crowd pulsed around her – the stage was circular so the band could be seen from all angles- her regulars cheered her on, the music started and the stage fright strangely just left. Ashley Webb parted her lips, opened her heart and sang in public for the first time.

For the past few weeks, The Night Cat had been Augustus' refuge from the undignified rabble that composed the city of Melbourne. There was no real old blood here in Australia, all of the vampires were young upstarts trying to carve a small niche of power in the latest continent to house the Camarilla. None had the wisdom that came with age, as Augustus himself did. He found himself seeking refuge from their inane little considerations and problems, and had removed himself from them night after night. His Justicar had demanded he come, but he could use his own judgement as to when and how to help the fledgling vampire population.

He knew very well that he could be the center of attention for the whole club. Indeed, were it not for the gifts of the Blood granted him from the line of Caine, he would have been weather he liked it or not. But he had many hundred of years to practice hiding in mortal society, and on the rare occasions it suited him to blend in, he did it well. He was not here to be watched, rather the opposite. His eyes were locked onto the singer on stage, just like everyone else's. He was not shocked at the angelic sounds that came from her lips, for he had heard the whispers of it in her absent minded humming night after night. His minds eye had already seen her beautiful face framed perfectly by that full, luscious hair long before his flesh eyes had. And in his minds eye now he could see the perfectly tailored clothing that he himself would make for her accentuating a truly beautiful body. He had heard and seen these things for one simple reason, she belonged with him and his kind far more than she ever would among the rabble here. He had known he would take her as his childe the night he had first seen her behind the bar and was still maneuvering the Prince into granting him permission to take her. Until she was his to pluck, however, he had protected her from other hands that thought the same, a silent stalwart guardian in the shadows.

Tonight was different. Her singing called to him in a way he had not felt in hundreds of years. Fire burned through the ancient blood creeping through his veins. His eyes found hers on the stage, and as the last notes of the first song faded away, he let her see him. Not as the bland image he allowed the others to see, but Augustus in all of his glory. The long perfect hair, his hauntingly pale skin, his piercing eyes. He had been beautiful enough to cause women to catch their breath when he was alive, and the gifts of Caine had merely enhanced that. Tonight, she called to him in her voice, and he was going to reply.

As Ashley sung she was struck by a strange sensation. It was surreal, to say the least, to be standing upon a stage surrounded by the rapt attention of a crowd. The music and the motion of the throng honestly felt like it was forming a barrier around her, rather like being embraced by some pulsating cocoon. Not unpleasant, more disorienting and Ashley finally understood why the bands often came off stage bouncing and cheering like they’d taken some kind of drug. She smiled as the song came to a close, belting out the last few notes to the best of her mere talents, simultaneously relieved and elated that she’d made it the whole way through without mistake. That’s when it happened, like a bullet to the brain, her eyes locked with someone in the crowd. Years, centuries later she’d be able to recall exactly how she felt when she first saw Augustus. She gasped but no one in the crowd heard for the microphone she’d been holding had already slipped from her tapered fingers and fallen to the floor in shock. She cheeks stained red as she hastily bent to pick it up, partly from the raucous applause which erupted as soon as she finished the song but mostly the surprise at how she reacted to a fleeting look from the man. She body quaked, small, pleasurable shivers straight down to her core which lived her senses. He hadn't just been handsome, handsome man came and went and she’d shrugged their attentions off in the past. No, this man was something more, somehow.

As she stood she instinctively sought out his gaze again, silently fortifying herself against its affects as it did. He was perfect, how had she not noticed him before? How were the people besides him gazing at her or talking among themselves when Adonis himself stood by their sides? Ashley lowered her gaze, a small, timid smile creeping to her lips as she brushed her hair back from her face. She shocked herself when she suddenly realised how much she wanted to go into the crowd, slip back into anonymity and perhaps see if Adonis wanted to chat. She usually was never so bold but a part of her desperately hoped and wanted to see if he’d was as lively and intelligent as he was good looking or if he was just another pretty boy without brain cells.

Steve prodded her in the back and she jumped, remembered where she was and shakily started the next song. It took a few lines her for to properly sink up with the music again, Adonis was distracting and in the end she had to close her eyes to focus once more. She mentally chastised herself for acting so ridiculous and justified to herself that it must be the euphoria of the stage which was causing her to behave so out of character and besides he probably wasn't here alone and even if he was, why would he be interested in her? The rest of the set dragged, the pulsating sensation became stifling and set her emotions on edge. She forced herself not to look his way again, each time her eyes skimmed his face it caused her heart to beat wildly. As the final note strummed, the last applause sounded she was already making her way off the stage and pushing past the myriad of congratulations and pats on the back with as much grace and gratitude she could summon. She threw the back door of the bar open and stood listening as it closed once more with a satisfying ‘thunk’.

It was only when silence greeted her that she realised she was trembling, bathed in a thin line of sweat and close to tears. She placed her back against the wall to steady herself and ran her hands through her hair, breathing deeply, letting the ringing in her ears fade and the stars in her eyes to dull once more. Never again, the whole ordeal had been far too intense; it was like she’d been feasting on the emotions of the crowd and that was a type of passion which was wholly unfamiliar to her. She rubbed the side of her face and then her eyes, weary suddenly and swearing she’d stay on the other side of the lyrics from now on, maybe she was too delicate for this line of work...

“I remember my first time singing,” he said softly. While his face held the beauty of a Botticelli cherub, it paled to insignificance next to his voice. “It is called the Palazzo Vecchio now, beautifully made, the acoustics very flattering.”  He steps out of the shadows slowly, entrancing eyes lingering on the young woman as she recovers from the shock of being on stage. “Nothing can prepare you for it. It is like lightning and fire. Such a public intimacy, something so personal on display for all to see. You do not feel naked, for they are not looking at your body, but deeper. Their gaze is upon your very soul, all that you are for them to see, and no way to shield yourself. You are at their mercy, and yet…” The softest of sighs leave his lips, lips shaped so perfectly as to appear a masterpiece sculpted by the divine. “They are in the palm of your hand. Despite being so vulnerable before them, you control them and they hang on your every breath. Such a delicious dichotomy, power and vulnerability, control and submission.”

He pauses for a moment, and his eyes widen ever so slightly. “But where are my manners? My most sincere apologies, fair lady. I am Augustus de’ Medici, and I am at your service.” Somewhere between his bow starting and straightening back up, his hand had found hers, and he raised it to his lips. The kiss he placed upon it was so cool and light it was almost imagined.

Ashley gasped softly and like a startled bird, ducked a step away from the wall when she heard the voice coming so close at hand. Her hand was brushing her hair back from her face, already a murmured, apologetic excuse was beginning to form on her lips when she noticed who was speaking and froze. It was the Adonis from the crowd, had he immediately followed her out here or had he left before she finished? She didn’t know and for a heartbeat she didn’t care.

Her gaze was gentle as she observed him, closer now and not a figment of her imagination. He was perfect, there was no other way to describe him. Her head tilted slightly as her eyes traced the line of his lips, watching them move as he spoke to her, but for a long moment, heard no sound so taken aback was she at the impressive figure he cut in the dim lights of the cool night. The small sensible part of her mind told her she should be more on edge, she was alone with a strange man who could easily overpower her but the raw drive of her youth and curiosity overpowered that voice. It wasn’t just the handsome features. It was his eyes, there was something in them that caught her breath in her throat, she -wanted- to stay and find out more.

Her cheeks pinked faintly as with a thunderous clamour, the moment passed, and sound rushed back to greet her once more. Her eyes widened faintly, she imagined the spell would shatter as soon as he spoke to her. How often do you meet a truly cultured man in a club like the Cat? But no, she felt a lazy smile spread over her lips as the words he spoke conjured such vivid emotions which perfectly reflected her she was feeling. The lyricist in her as captivated by this man who spoke with such immaculate comfort in the shadow of the night.

Suddenly, he was holding her hand lightly in her own, the kiss on her skin was as impossibly light as she imagined. For the first time, in a long time, her heart fluttered with the beat of a delicate butterfly. She shook her head once, her hair tumbled back into her eyes and she clearer her throat, forcing her back to her senses. It was the adrenaline of the performance, the romance of the lights seducing her senses into falsifying a connection with a random stranger. “I’m Ashley… Ashley Webb. Palazzo Vecchio? That’s in Florence, right?” Her voice matched her smile, incredibly soft and sincere, “I cannot imagine how it must have felt performing it such a historic landmark.”

She glanced to the stage door again, the sensible portion of her mind straighten its tie and nudge her inside. “… I should be heading back inside, I’m meant to be tending the bar until two.” She bit her bottom lip faintly, not really wanting to leave it like this though and she looked to him once more, vaguely hopeful. “I make a fairly good martini, if you were thinking of heading back in for a drink?”

He glances towards the door as she does, and then back towards her. His smile curled the corners of his lips just faintly, but it touched his eyes as well, giving him a warmth that concealed the Beast beneath. His hand releases hers slowly, returning to his side. His perfectly tailored sleeve slides over his ridiculously expensive watch. The air is pregnant with then pause after she finishes speaking and he considers what she has said. "It is not often that I would accept such an offer, as I am not usually one to partake in a social drink. However, how could one decline an invitation when it is presented in such a beautiful manner?" The smile spreads, his eyes almost lighting up. Her voice was beautiful and her lyrics enchanting in a way he had not felt in so many years, but there was something far more to her that captivated him so. Her soul was beautiful, and as much as he yearned to steal her way from this place right now, he knew to do so would be to harm her.

No, he would follow along in this dance of fleeting flirtations and mortal words and gestures, slowly exposing the reality of himself and his life to her before inducting her into it. He was not concerned over the Prince. Augustus would inform him that he would be siring when the time was right. The Prince would bow to him, not the other way around. He had already broken the Traditions by destroying another Toreador that dared to look at her and consider stealing her into the night, another transgression would matter little. He had more power and influence in the immortal world than he did in this mortal world, and either could be considered staggering.

He offers her his arm, his voice softer. "Well, we would not want to be late for your responsibilities, now would we? May I escort you back inside?" He kept his wealth of power at bay, not attempting to manipulate her emotions or control her mind. Such gifts had their uses when applied right, but she was not destined to be some simpering ghoul or pathetic Camarilla lap-dog. She was destined for so much more, and he would be more than happy to escort her on that journey.