Graces In Unexpected Places

A Knight in Yellow Leather

I do not own Soul Eater or the fantabulous characters. All rights go to the actual owners. Kay. You may proceed to the story now.

Chapter 1: Maka's P.O.V. 

Click

        The sound of a single camera verberating throughout the city, the flash glaring. A sort of beacon, summoning the influx of paparazzi that I knew would arrive any minute. I saw the people around me shift, stopping, staring, pulling out their phones. I pulled my hat down further on my head. I heard the clicking of cameras, paparazzi slinking in and out the crowd. It was inevitable. I had been spotted. I plastered a smile on my face, taking off my sunglasses and facing the forces.

        Is that her? The model, or was it a singer? No wait, I thought she was an actor. Maybe she's all three. Oh look! She took off her shades! Look at that smile. That is definitley Maka. Maka Albarn. We should get a picture! I wonder...

        Their individual murmuring became incomprehendable. I walked, no, strutted as my producers demanded. I could hear their voices in my head, egging me on, telling me to never allow a bad picture surface. I had to hide behind the j-pop image they had painted for me. I casually pulling my phone out, texting my manager. I should have seen my limo by now. Where could she be? I smiled at my phone like an idiot, laughing flirtatiously. Let the paparazzi think what they wanted. I was willingly giving them material for a juicy story. A text from my manager made my blood run cold.

        I was in the wrong town. Instead of Las Vegas, I was in Death Vegas. Aka. The middle of Nowhere. The crowd was becoming intolerable. I bit my lip, desperate for an escape. As if on cue, a tall man stepped out of the crowd, his condescending demeanor frightening enough to part the sea of people. He held out his hand, red eyes pinned on me. Despite his crazy white hair and abnormal yellow leather jacket, I decided to trust him. I took his hand, and he pulled me into a deserted coffee shop.

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        I don't mean led into the shop, I mean pulled. He used his left hand to press the door open, his right to drag me in. He fell into the shop with me on top of him. The little store was open but nearly empty. The shop's only light source were strange candles supported by intricate black stands. The floor had a vintage checkerboard pattern, the windows darkly tinted. The hiding spot was perfect. The few customers that were in the booths were staring. I blushed furiously, quickly climbing off the stranger.

        "Sorry about that," he said smirking, not looking sorry at all. "I'm Soul by the way."

        "I'm Maka Albarn. Well, right this minute, I'm Maka Milkshake." I said sheepishly, and Soul  visibly cringed at my stage name. "Terrible, I know."

        "Would you two like to continue this conversation in a booth?" A pretty waitress asked, twirling her red hair around her manicured finger. Soul said yes before Maka could deny.

        "Why?" Soul asked blatantly, gesturing to my ridiculous outfit. I sighed. "I barely know you, and I feel like, well, that this isn't you."

        "What do you mean?" I said, playing dumb. "This is me." Soul rolled his eyes and reached across the table, pulling off my purple hat.  When he did, my (also purple) wig tumbled off, revealing blonde hair, dip-dyed black and red. He smiled victoriously, and I glared cross the table at him.

        "Hi my name is Marcee, what can I get for you two?" The red-haired waitress from earlier asked pepily. Soul ordered coffee for both of us. "Oh and sweetie." The waitress started to say, glancing at me. "That hairstyle suits you a lot better than that frou-frou crap." Soul laughed and I blushed. Was my stage appearance really so bad? I accepted it was, and I shrugged off my oversized pink knee-length jacket-dress, revealing a black spagetti-strap blouse and a red miniskirt. I felt a lot better with the heavy, ridiculous jacket off. Soul just stared, catching my gaze.

        "What!!" I snapped, caught off guard by the intense look he was giving me.

        He smirked. "I didn't know what you were doing. I was scared you were going to strip down completly."

        "As if!" I huffed. "Why would I do that in someone I just met!"

        "So you're saying that if you did know me better you would?"

        "That is so not what I meant, and you know it!" I whined, crossing my arms and pouting. "Perv."

        Soul laughed, then changed the subject. "So if you are so down to earth, why do you dress like a stuck up popstar?" Soul asked quietly.

        I blushed, which seemed to happen a lot around Soul. "I'm supposed to be a stuck up popstar." I whimpered, putting my head in my hands. "'Punk rock book worm' doesn't exactly pay."

        "Your fans will love you for you. In fact, you'd probably gain fans if you came out and showed your true personality. People want to feel close to their idols." He raised his hand to brush my hair out of my face, which made me blush harder. "And if the paparazzi pisses you off, don't smile at them! Flip them off, walk away, let a handsome stranger sweep you off your feet and make your day." He was clearly teasing, but I took the advice to heart.

       "Thanks, for everything, Soul Eater Evans" I said smiling.

        "You know my full name?"

        "Yeah, I just remembered. Your the famous pianist."

        "I wouldn't say famous." He muttered.

        "I recognized you! Just...not at first."  I said sheepishly.

        "I'm just glad you know me at all" He said, smiling wide. I noticed all of his teeth were pointed. "If you ever decide you need a musician for anything, you have my number." He said, sliding his business card into my hand. I smiled back, realizing I was growing attached to Soul, even though we had just met. I entered his  number into my phone and put the card in my pocket. He took my hand and led me out of the booth. Before I could even ask what he was doing, he pulled me over to the grand piano in the corner of the shop. He sat on the piano bench elegantly, his fingers swiftly dancing over the keys. His music sent chills down my spine, it was incredibly beautiful. His head was slightly tilted to the side, as if he was reading some invisible music sheet. The chords were eerie yet still upbeat, a combination I never would have thought of. The song was over way too soon. He turned around on the bench, smiling at me.

        "That...was...something else." I said, almost in a daze. He smiled.

        "Funny, because that was totally improvised. I just played as I went." He said, smirking, and I smacked him on the shoilder. I sat down on the bench beside him.

        "We should be partners," I said quietly. His eyes widened in suprise.

        "No, you have a completley different genre of music and I don't think I could-"

        I covered his mouth with my hand, shushing him. "You don't have to accept my offer, but don't go putting yourself down, got it?" I said and he just stood there looking into my eyes. He pulled my hand away from his mouth, and just held it. He leaned in, as if he planned to ki-

We heard someone clearing their throat behind us.

        "Soooooooooo, d'you kids want your coffee?"

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So what'd you guys think? Do you like this as a one-shot? Should I write more one-shots or continue this one? Tell meh in the comments! Don't forget to rate, add to your library, all that fun stuff. Suggest stories for me to read. And I follow back! Kay! Byeeeeee.