Ensnaring Elegance: Sanji's Accidental Admirers

Chapter 14: Vibrant Virtuoso

Brooks pov:

Ah, the sweet sound of music festivals-the buzz of the crowd, the lights flashing like fireworks, and the endless stages bringing together musicians from across the seas. This festival was no different. The energy was infectious, and it felt even more alive because we had a purpose tonight: Sanji was going to compete in a music contest to save a local orphanage.

We stood at the edge of the stage, looking out at the festival-goers swaying and cheering, waiting for the next performer. That performer was Sanji.

Now, I've seen Sanji do a lot of things. Cooking? He's the best. Fighting? He's unbeatable. But singing? Oh, this was going to be something else entirely. Especially because he was dressed in a mix of punk rock and vibrant pop-an electric blue jacket with neon pink accents and black jeans with ripped knees. It was ridiculous, but somehow he made it look cool. The crowd was already interested, but they didn't know what was coming next.

Sanji stood in the middle of the stage, adjusting his guitar strap. His eyes were focused, the lights reflecting off his shades. And then, with a smooth move, he lowered the mic to his lips.

The band behind him started slow, the notes hanging in the air like the calm before a storm. And then Sanji began to sing, his voice low and filled with emotion.

"You think you do the right thing,
But incidentally,
You find the whole world would prefer it differently..."

His voice was soft but steady, and the crowd immediately leaned in, drawn by the honesty in his words. The tempo was slow, deliberate, like every word was carefully chosen. Sanji's hand hovered over the guitar strings as he began to strum softly, the notes matching the melancholy tone of the song.

"You go from being fair
To falling flat,
You see what's there,
You find you're at
The wrong end of the stick,
And you're starting to feel sick..."

The song was picking up just a little, his voice becoming stronger, but it still had that raw edge. He began to move slowly across the stage, each step syncing with the beat. His movements were subtle, not flashy-just enough to keep the crowd's eyes on him.

"Of when the story drops you hard
Into the pavement,
Even though you thought you knew what 'to behave' meant..."

Sanji's voice lingered on the last few words, and the crowd was captivated. His hand gripped the mic stand as he swayed gently, and the lights cast shadows across his face, emphasizing the tension in his lyrics. You could feel the weight of the song sinking into the audience, like everyone understood the story he was telling.

"But you find out you were thinking wrong,
And you wind up back where you belong,
And you try to get it right,
But instead, it just comes back to bite you..."

With each word, Sanji's voice got a little more intense. His guitar picked up speed, but the song remained slow, simmering, building something deep within the crowd. He moved fluidly, the fabric of his punk-pop outfit catching the light as he stepped across the stage.

Then came the chorus, and it hit hard:

"I never wanted to be the bad guy,
The Bad Guy,
The Bad Guy...
Never wanted to be the bad guy,
But that's just how the story goes..."

Sanji's voice climbed, the rawness more evident now. His eyes scanned the crowd, connecting with them. It was clear that this wasn't just any song-he was telling them something real, something personal. His fingers strummed the guitar in rhythm, slow but deliberate, his voice capturing the frustration of always being misunderstood.

"It's a trip discovering
You're not the hero,
You thought you were Augustus
But you're Nero..."

The tempo softened again, and Sanji's movements slowed with it, matching the reflective nature of the verse. He closed his eyes for a moment, losing himself in the music. The crowd was swaying, mesmerized.

"And you're playing on your violin,
You might say it's just
Your evil twin,
But it's not some villain clone,
No, it's you and you alone
To blame..."

Sanji stepped forward, and the lights followed him, creating a spotlight effect. His voice was filled with sorrow now, the kind of regret that seeped into every word. He wasn't just performing-he was telling a story, and everyone in the audience felt it.

The chorus returned, this time with more power:

"I never wanted to be the bad guy,
The Bad Guy,
The Bad Guy...
Never wanted to be the bad guy,
But that's just how the story goes..."

Sanji's voice echoed across the stage, and with each repetition of "The Bad Guy", the crowd seemed to connect more deeply with him. His performance was magnetic, and even I had to admit, it was hard to look away.

Then came the bridge, and the crowd hushed in anticipation:

"And it goes,
And goes,
And goes,
Just like balloons
Out of your hand,
The world looks up
While you sink in the sand..."

Sanji stepped back, his voice quieter but filled with weight. The lights softened, creating an intimate moment. His fingers brushed the guitar strings as his body moved with the slow, haunting melody. His feet glided across the stage as if he were dancing, but it was a slow, controlled movement that added to the song's vulnerability.

"And you start to understand
That it can't be erased
If it's traced out in pen...
Though you scrub it again
And again
And again
And again..."

The final chorus hit, and this time Sanji's voice was filled with all the emotion he'd been holding back. The crowd was swaying, completely caught in the rhythm of his song, and I could see some wiping tears from their eyes.

"I never wanted to be the bad guy,
The Bad Guy,
The Bad Guy...
Never wanted to be the bad guy,
But that's just how the story goes..."

The music slowed to a gentle close as Sanji strummed the last note, his eyes closed, his head bowed slightly. The air was still, as if the whole festival was holding its breath.

Then came the eruption-cheers, whistles, applause. It was deafening, and it was clear that Sanji had done more than just perform-he had connected with them. He had made them feel something deep.

As he stepped back from the mic, his breath steadying, I couldn't help but laugh softly. "Yohohoho! Sanji, I think you've just become a rock star!"

A sharp-dressed man from the crowd-clearly a record scout-pushed through, his eyes locked on Sanji. "That was incredible," he said, handing Sanji a card. "We need to talk. You're the next big thing."

Sanji took the card, glanced at it, then looked back at me with a smirk. "I'm just here for the kids, Brook," he said, though I could see the excitement in his eyes.

As the festival crowd continued to cheer, I knew one thing for sure: Sanji wasn't just a chef tonight. He was a star.