𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘿𝙀𝙑𝙄𝙇'𝙎 𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙇 - 𝙔𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙀 𝘼𝙇𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙍 𝙓 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

8.

━━━

My heart is racing horribly. 

It's almost painful. 

This part of town is a little scary; I've never been here before. 

My eyes shift around the area with uneasy paranoia, keeping close to my only source of guidance, Alastor. Cannibal town begins to slowly surround us, and the eerie, lifted smiles of the shared citizens begin to come into sight. 

"Alastor... do they all smile like that...?" I whisper nervously, intimidation washing against me ruthlessly as the oddly flattering town envelopes me. My clothes and makeup sit within a bag I brought with me, Alastor's calm figure walking before me in a guiding form. 

His grin only follows, before he softly speaks. "Of course, my dear-! there is much to be joyful of within this lovely town, don't you think?" He questions in the same, cheery tone before he turns away from me once more, his towering figure leading me across the town as we pass by clustered groups of smiling townspeople. 

As nauseating as this town is, and the aura which clouds it, the people here don't seem to be predominantly violent, loud, or chaotic. They seem to follow the crowd, they seem to be quite mellow and actually somewhat welcoming. 

"I mean - I suppose, it's quite lovely here, actually," I comment as I take the sight of the town around me, the floral patches and well-kept stores, and as Alastor hums in melodic agreement, and as the eyes of female townspeople link against Alastor and naturally begin to quite audibly swoon, calling out towards the red-dressed man. 

"Hello, Alastor-!" Synced, feminine voices call from across the street, female townspeople dressed quite nicely grouped together with their signature cannibal-smiles. 

"Why hello-! make sure to say hello to Rosie for me-!" Alastor calls as he waves, eyes locked onto him without hesitation, unlike the other sinners who populate hell. Alastor is a man who is feared to perceive, yet as the cannibals seem to quite naturally speak to him, it somewhat calms me.

It makes me a touch more comfortable. 

"You seem quite popular around here, nobody seems to fear you," I comment softly as I walk by his side, his piercing scarlet eyes fitting against me for a short moment. "Quite observant, aren't you? what do these fine people have to fear? I have no reason to spread fear, now do I?" He questions with amusement, singing across his voice with lined melody, humour and condescendence. 

And as I shortly nod and faintly let my gaze wash over Alastor's towering figure, I take note of the things in which I have been too nervous to truly observe. 

His smile almost curves into a light smirk, and his eyelids darken in a deep maroon, with arched eyebrows and scarily sharp fangs. 

I know it's unusual to think, but he is oddly intriguing to observe. His mannerisms, his appearance and features, it's all very interesting. He's very interesting. Eerie, enigmatic and mysterious against his plastered smile, yet very interesting. These factors only strengthen the shame I have for being interested in him and his history. 

Though I'm too scared to question him. 

But as I continue to unknowingly stare, I feel his scarlet eyes suddenly dart and meet mine. 

I look away, my heart racing intensely. I panicked. 

My cheeks and nose bustle into an embarrassed burn, reddening before settling back with my gaze lifting to a neon-lit sign. The sign it's against a black, metal gate which opens and leads down the concrete steps to the underground bar, an opening which I am quite used to entering regularly. Yet I've never actually been to this bar before in my life, so I have to prepare to face an audience of mystery. 

I share a glance with Alastor before he opens the door with a metal key, pushing the gate's door open as he lets me step down before him. My chest pounds with every step, the unknown is scary, and right now, I am facing it head-on. 

The steps end against a large, wooden door with the scent of alcohol and muffled music oozing under the door. I watch as he unlocks the door and lets me enter once more, the sight of the soft, red-lit lamp ambience surrounds me. The gentle jazz dances across the air as the open area bustles with people, alcohol filling the air, the bar populated and the tables filled. 

And as my eyes meet the large, Hollywood-lit stage, it's nothing like any stage I had ever seen. 

It's so large, it's so brightly lit, so beautiful. 

I stare with awe before Alastor's voice surprises me, startling me before I face him. 

As I turn, I notice him speaking to a well-dressed woman, with gently curled, short hair with a lavishly decorated wide-brimed hat. A lovely smile sits against her lips, her long skirt dragging with every step.

"Why don't we start getting you ready, shall we?"

She turns to face me as she already begins ushering me towards the back of the stage, my anxiety slowly beginning to lift with every step. Her scent washes against me with her hands gently placed against the back of my shoulders, guiding me through the tight-knit, cluttered styling areas. 

"You must be real special for Alastor to bring you here, I've heard of you before! Your performances always overflow my TV!" The woman rants with genuine awe, her bubbly attitude warming my cheeks with flattered glee. 

"Oh, thank you...!  May I ask what your name is?" I question as she leads me towards a singular styling room, closing the door behind her and guiding me into the styling chair. 

"Rosie, Dear, pleased to meet you! I'm quite happy to meet you in real life, and to have you perform here! Alastor's been giving you quite the reputation around these parts, your name has been said more and more every day," She grins, her name chiming against my memories. Alastor mentioned her name earlier - maybe they are close? they seem to be, and she seems lovely!

I continue to listen and chuckle to her amusing rambles, so genuinely interesting with every word she utters. 

And while she speaks, she begins to pin my hair and take it upon herself to style me, and I don't refuse. By the way, she moves, she knows what she's doing and I naturally trust her skills and judgement. Every pin she slips through my hair sits perfectly, and as she begins to sculpt my hair into her perfect image, her voice fills my entertainment.

"Are you nervous?" She questions softly, slipping a pin through a lock of my hair to place it back. I very gently nod, chuckling nervously with my throat drying uncomfortably. 

"I've never performed close to these parts, so I'm not sure what the audience is like," I chuckle softly as she shares the same casual laugh, nodding. 

"Oh, I understand that honey, but trust me, the people out there have been waiting for you for longer then you think. And you should've seen the line this bar had this morning! all of those people want to see you, so don't be scared!" She assures with care, and against her words, I feel my nerves gently cease.

━━━