Blue Butler (Jerza) [HIATUS]

Chapter 8: Her Butler, Applause (Part 1)

|1 year ago |

She was a lone rose in the snow, drenched in red from head to toe.

Neinhart absolutely loved the color white. An inherently positive color, white symbolized purity, innocence, light, goodness, heaven, illumination, cleanliness, and virginity, among other things. If there was anything else he loved aside from the color, it was winter. Winter was the one season, Neinhart absolutely adored. It was also the one season wherein his partners didn't have to force him out of bed to do his job.

Neinhart sighed in satisfaction as he breathed in the sight in below him as he stood on the rooftop. Everything was white outside as the snow fell freely all over Fiore and the blankets of fresh white snow covered the streets. Neinhart pulled out a card from his coat pocket and examined the address of the soul he was to collect before jumping from one roof to another to get to his target's location. Dimaria Yesta, 23 years old. Cause of Death: Severe Blood Loss. Time of Death: 11:45 p.m.

Neinhart checked his pocket watch. 11:30 p.m. 15 more minutes left. He thought. Neinhart sighed and sat on the rooftop in front of what seemed to be his target's apartment and began to wait.

***

"I-I don't understand." The woman ran her hand frantically through her red hair. "What do you mean I'm no longer getting the part?"

The director sighed and sat down in his chair. "Look Irene. You're one of the most talented and beautiful actresses we've ever had but..." He pulled out a cigar and placed it between his lips before lighting it.

"But what?"

The director blew out a puff of smoke. "That was before the incident happened."

"The incident you speak of happened 7 years ago!" Irene exclaimed.

"Yes true, but I'm afraid you lack talent now because you weren't able to recuperate well..." The director elaborated.

Irene gasped in disbelief. If that were the case, why didn't they stop her from returning? After her sister's family was brutally murdered, Irene fell into a state of depression. After all, despite the fact that she considered Eileen to be her rival, Eileen was still her sister and her best friend at the end of the day. It was only natural she took time off to mourn and grieve. She regained her will to live again upon discovering that her niece, Erza, had made it through the fire.

Irene then returned to acting and made her comeback on stage and on the silver screen, her fans welcoming her back with open arms, and that was how it was until today. How could the people be sick of her? They still loved her. She was a veteran and she knew full well her talents weren't deteriorating. It was then that Irene saw a pink lacy fabric at the bottom of the director's desk.

Blinded by her anger, Irene picked it up and threw it at the director's face. He scrunched his face up and swatted the lacy undergarment away from his face.

"Is this why?!" Irene screamed. "You vile, loathsome, pig!"

"Look Irene, you're getting old. Your beauty was the only thing keeping you in this industry. If you wanted to stay, you should've been a bit more competitive, the young ones have more tricks up their sleeves." The director smirked up at her. "If you really want the role, I suggest you blow my mind tonight. Give me a good time and I'll consider giving it back to you."

"You're disgusting!" Irene screamed, before slapping him in the face. "I did not fùck my way to the top and I don't intend on sleeping with anyone anytime soon just for a role," She spat, before stomping her way out of the director's office.