A live music bar is not Diluc's usual scene. After all, he is not usually one for music, treating it simply as background noise when he's studying, a streaming service left on shuffle. Further, despite being a winery owner's son and heir, he never drinks alcohol. But here he is, sitting on a stool by the bar, his glass filled with grape juice and a bartender looking unimpressed at his order.
Used to such judgmental stares, Diluc simply ignores the bartender, his attention focused on the stage.
There, a young man wearing an oversized sweater plays a song. It is not a love song, but instead one of myth and legends. In a way, it feels too grandiose for his light, cheery voice and the simple melody of his guitar, but Diluc finds himself fond of the mismatched song. And his gaze is not the only one on this young man. So many eyes are on him, perhaps because of the oddity of his song, perhaps because of the beauty of his voice, perhaps because of how exquisite he looks in the dim light of the bar.
Black hair with greenish-blue tips, green eyes ever so slightly veiled by long eyelashes, pink lips curling into a smile as he sings. He is a kind of delicate beauty that people barely get to see. Not quite the look of a celebrity, yet not at all down-to-earth to fit the image of a boy-next-door. In a way, he almost feels like he could be something divine, especially when combined with the kind of songs he sings, but when he looks up and lights dance on his eyes, he seems nothing more than human, vivacious and alive.
"This isn't the first time we watch this singer," Diluc's friend, Jean, says with a quiet hum. "You purposely picked this bar to see him, didn't you?"
Diluc smiles wryly, not denying this. He has indeed looked up this singer's schedule on his social media accounts, taking Jean along with him to watch.
Like him, Jean does not know much about music. Unlike him, Jean is not averse to alcohol. On top of it, being a good friend, she would hang out with him whenever he asks without asking too many questions. He appreciates that about her. Besides, she told him, being with him means she gets to enjoy her drink and the atmosphere without getting hit on since he has a scary face that drives everyone away.
"His songs are not bad," Jean comments while drinking down her colorful cocktail. "But you never cared for music."
"I like myths and legends," Diluc says, feeling the need to justify his interest in this singer. He doesn't know much about him except for how he sings at bars and cafes and goes by the name of Venti. Well, that and how he's a Gemini, a tidbit he happened to drop on one of his posts the other week.
"Sure," Jean concedes. "But you don't need a song for that."
Diluc clenches his jaw. He can't blame Jean for being curious. As his best friend, she knows his habit well. Coffee shop over bars, books over music. And with this not being the first time that Diluc drags her to see Venti, she's bound to have a couple of questions.
"You're interested in him," Jean dares a guess. She looks at the stage, her sight landing on Venti. "He is beautiful. But that's never been enough to stir your interest in someone." She hums, taking another sip of her drink. "Do you know him from somewhere?"
"Not really," Diluc shrugs. "Is it so bad to want to hear a different kind of song, once in a while?"
"No," Jean shakes his head. "It's just not very you."
Diluc clicks his tongue. Still, he says nothing more to Jean. After all, she is not incorrect. He looks at the stage, watching as Venti speaks into the mic, his voice soft and pretty.
"Our next song will be about Morax and Barbatos," he says with a smile on his face. "I have to warn that this isn't for fans of Morax."
Laughter echoes throughout the bar and a small smile even surfaces on Diluc's face.
