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Shiro

He was introduced a few minutes later. I remember looking up as he walked gracefully across the ballroom floor, his movements graceful and light, dressed in an off-white suit that contrasted his dark skin.

He stepped up to the President and Alfor stood, stepping off of the platform and reaching forward, shaking the man's hand with a grin.

"Curtis," he said warmly. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

Curtis smiled in return, his demeanor like a wave of sincerity and peaceful reservedness.

"The pleasure is mine," he replied, a thick, gorgeous accent coating his words. His voice was rich and deep and it bathed me in a sense of calm. I felt a shiver go down my back and I turned to Keith.

"Who is that?" I whispered to him. Keith's eyes were glued to Lance, who looked stunning I might add. The trapeze artist glanced up and met Keith's eyes, then looked away, fidgeting with the hem of his blazer as he talked quietly with Allura.

Keith tore his gaze from Lance and looked to Curtis. His eyes widened and he turned back to me. "You don't know who that is?"

I shook my head dumbly.

Keith scoffed. "That's Curtis Lind. He's the most famous performer in all of Europe. He's sold out La Scala a dozen times... not to mention the French Opera. He's called the Swedish Nightingale."

I looked back up at Curtis, intrigue settling over my skin. "Introduce me," I requested.

Keith's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Curtis shook Alfor's hand once again and drifted over to the refreshments table. "Are you kidding me?" he whisper-yelled.

"Isn't that what you do?" I asked absentmindedly, grabbing his wrist and dragging him over to where Curtis now stood, sipping a flute of champagne elegantly.

"I don't even know him!"

"Everybody knows him, you just said so yourself."

Keith looked like he was about to punch me but, gaining composer, he straightened himself out and brushed off my hand, resuming a friendly, opulent demeanor.

"Mr. Lind," he started, standing beside the man. He turned and his eyes landed on Keith, then drifted up to me. They were dark and alluring. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up at the attention. "My name is Keith Kogane."

"Hello," Curtis said smoothly reaching out and shaking Keith's hand gently.

"And this... extraordinary gentleman next to me-"

"Takashi Shirogane. The pleasure is mine."

"Pleasure," Curtis murmured silkily, holding his hand out. I shook it and felt a tingle of electricity bolt up my arm at his touch. His hand was warm and soft and I had to keep myself from holding on too long.

Curtis' eyes suddenly lit up in recognition. "Of course, you're the American. I believe I may have heard of you."

I nodded. "Well, if you've heard of me from all the way over in Europe, I must be doing something right."

"That, or something very wrong," Curtis suggested.

"Well, in the world of publicity, there is hardly any difference."

"I believe those are the words of a scoundrel, Mr. Shirogane."

"A showman, Mr. Lind, just a showman."

Curtis' smile widened from the tiny quirk of his lips to a grin. "Well, I'm not one to judge." His eyes sparkled stardust on my heart- they were dark, vividly blue, like staring right into a pool of molten sapphires. They poured galaxies into my mind, their coy shyness catching me off guard.

"Ah... ha," I managed to say. Keith looked like he might actually punch me this time.

"Mr. Lind," I recovered. "let me get to the point."

One of his eyebrows lifted in interest. "Do tell," he said in an undertone.

"I want to bring you to New York. And if you agree I will make you not only the most famous singer in Europe but in the whole world."

Curtis paused, his lips pressed together. "Hm," he finally hummed. He stepped forward, closing the distance between us. "And have you heard me sing?"

I swallowed hard as his breath fanned over my face. For a moment, I was unable to speak, so I shook my head. "But," I finally said, "like mine, your reputation proceeds you."

Curtis looked around the ballroom. "I'd never been to America before this."

Boldly, I spoke. "You will sing in the grandest theater with the finest orchestra in the greatest city on Earth."

I held out my hands as if envisioning it. "'Curtis Lind. One night only'. Or maybe two."

Curtis laughed breathily, his cheeks pink from flattery.

"'Voice of a Nightingale, Heart of an Angel'," Keith supplied.

I looked at him excitedly. "That's brilliant. The press will go crazy."

Curtis shifted closer still to me, his eyes level with mine. "May I ask you something, Mr. Shirogane?"

"Anything," I murmured.

His face hardened into a challenge. "Why me?"

I paused, a little perplexed. Then, with precision in each of my words, "People come to my show for the pleasure of being hoodwinked. For once, I'd like to give them something real."

...

I stood backstage, hidden by curtains, clutching the show's program in my hands. Curtis has agreed to one show with me in the States to, in his words, "see how it goes". We were in New York City at the Met and from the sound of it, we were expecting a full house.

As I peeked out from behind the thick, velvet curtains, I felt my heart leap to my throat. These people were not like those who attended the Circus. These people were coated in wealth and they flaunted it viciously.

Waving fans hid their faces and the fabric of their clothes shimmered beneath the chandeliers of the opera house. The air tasted like the promise of a new beginning and I was in love with it.

Suddenly, there was a tap on my shoulder that slightly startled me. It was Keith, all dressed up in a dark red suit and tie.

"Ah, Keith. Just the man I was looking for."

He smiled nervously. "Hunk and Pidge and the others just arrived. Where should I put them? Your box?" He was referring to the box seats I'd gotten for Adam, which could probably fit the performers as well.

"My box?" I asked surprised. "That's a little... visible."

"Visible?" Keith questioned, surprised.

"The acoustics are actually better in the standing room," I told him, gesturing to the wings.

Keith's eyes hardened bit hardened But he stepped away, leaving me alone backstage.

"1 minute to showtime. Places please," a stagehand called loudly. I readied myself, waiting for the call. All too soon, the lights dimmed and the crowd's conversations quieted to a dull murmur. It was my cue. As I stepped out onto the stage, the lights nearly blinded me but I kept forward until I reached the mic.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience," I began. My eyes drifted up to my box and I saw Adam sitting, his eyes shining, a bright smile of encouragement on his face. "I recently had the privilege of hearing the most divine voice I've ever heard."

I could hear murmurs of disapproval in the crowd but I kept on. "Now, I know that sounds like Shirogane humbug, but I have 100 bottles of good champagne on ice that says that this isn't just some sideshow novelty. May I present the Swedish Nightingale... Mr. Curtis Lind."

As I exited the stage, the curtains rose to reveal Curtis standing center stage in all his magnificent glory. The orchestra began playing softly and the crowd went silent.

And then Curtis opened his mouth and began to sing.

When I say that his voice was beautiful, I mean it with every ounce of my being. He started slow, low, shy almost. And then he opened up and his voice soared. He hit the notes perfectly, his eyes closed as he sang. I felt my jaw go slack and my eyes go wide.

He was gorgeous. And goddamn, could he fucking sing.

I looked over the crowd and a particular figure caught my eye. Squinting, I realized with a start that it was Lotor Princeton, the critic who'd slammed the Circus. And he was smiling.

My eyes rose past Lotor to my box. I saw Adam in the crowd and Curtis on the stage and suddenly, I did not know which way my heart was beating. I couldn't think straight. I didn't know anymore.

...

Keith

Yes, Curtis' voice was absolutely stunning. Yes, I was hurt that Shiro had us stand up here like we were supposed to be hidden, like we weren't good enough for him anymore. Yes, I could feel Lance's eyes on me as I stood next to him.

The bass was in my chest and I breathed to the beat of the song, but every atom in my body told me to turn to Lance, to look at him and to revel in his beauty and grace and dignity. I was barely holding it together, being so close to him like this.

I felt my self-control go to the gutter when Curtis sang the line 'Take my hand, will you share this with me?' and I slowly moved my hand over, millimeter by millimeter, until it bumped into Lance's. He inhaled sharply, but his eyes stayed glued to the stage.

I hesitated, waiting for him. I was just about to pull back when his pinky linked around mine pulling my hand closer to his. I intertwined our fingers, hardly breathing, feeling his soft skin beneath my own.

The music was almost muffled in my ears as I held his hand. I'd wanted this, wanted this closeness, since the day I'd met him. And now I had it, his hand against mine, our shoulders brushing.

I squeezed his hand lightly and he squeezed back. I had to hold back a smile.

And then I looked over to the other side of the wings. And I noticed with a jolt that my father was pointing a finger at me, whispering to my mother. Lance's eyes followed my gaze. As if his hand was an electric current, I pulled away, focus glued to my father's accusatory glare.

Lance looked at me, hurt, but I could not bring myself to meet his eyes. He hesitated, then turned and left. And I felt my heart break in my chest and a low, ugly feeling settle in my stomach.

My hand, numb, refused to raise for applause when the song had finished.

...

Shiro

"Curtis, this is my husband, Adam," I introduced the two excitedly. The show had ended with a standing ovation (yes, even from Lotor) and now we celebrated with the rest of the stagehands and a bunch of guests from the crowd.

"I've heard a lot about you," Adam told Curtis politely, then added, "Don't worry- all good things."

While Adam and Curtis fell into a conversation, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned and was promptly startled to see Lotor standing behind me, a prim, proper look on his face.

"I have to admit, Mr. Shirogane, he is remarkable," he said in a strained voice.

I felt my mood turn a little sour. "Enough to bring a little joy to the most joyless critic, isn't she?"

He matched my tone. "And in the hands of a real purveyor of the arts, she could really be something in this country." He sneered. "Shame- she's fallen in with you."

I handed him a glass of champagne and offered him a sincere smile. "You really are better on the page, Mr. Princeton."

I turned away from the critic, but in seconds, someone else was calling my name.

"Yes?" I turned.

Before me stood Adam's mother and father. My sour mood returned.

"You've... done well," my mother-in-law stated in a tight manner, her lips thin.

I didn't know what to say except to accept the compliment. "Thank you," I said slowly. I looked over my shoulder at Curtis and Adam. "Allow me to introduce you," I said gracefully, carefully, unsure.

Curtis and Adam's parents exchanged pleasantries, but Adam's face went white with shock.

"Mom," he was able to blurt, searching for my hand. I held it tightly.

"Oh, Adam..."

I looked away, trying to hold back my discontentment. Adam looked up at me and frowned slightly. "Shiro, don't..." he tried.

But I had had enough. I had heard his mother's voice in my head for so long, her anger as she told me that I would never be able to make Adam happy.

"Don't what?" I asked him pleasantly. "Don't embarrass your parents in front of their fancy friends? I really don't think I have the power to do that. An insignificant man like me, bound to live an insignificant life." Each word from my mouth was aimed to punch Adam's parents.

Adam's mother looked at me with disgust. "You're still the man you used to be, don't try to hide it," she sneered.

"Get out," I glowered.

The couple left without a single word. An awkward silence fell over the after party, but Curtis quickly started up the conversation again, brushing past me to pick up a glass and raise it.

"Would everyone please raise their glasses?" he requested elegantly. Adam slipped from my side, an uneasy look on his face, but I let him go.

Curtis continued. "To Mr. Shirogane, who showed once and for all that a man's station is only limited by his imagination."

"To Shiro!" the crowd echoed. I smiled sincerely at Curtis, whose eyes hadn't left mine. I was about to say something more to him when I heard raucous laughter floating down the hallway towards the part room. I immediately recognized it as Hunk's and the rest of the performers'.

I quickly hurried to the door and blocked it with my body.

Hunk's brilliant smile lit up his face. "Mr. Shiro, sir, that man can sing!" he exclaimed happily. Pidge giggled beside him.

I searched for an excuse. "Guys, what are you doing here? You have a show in an hour!"

Hunk's smile only faltered a little. "An hour's enough time to grab a few glasses of that nice champagne you were talking about," he said happily.

The other performers chimed in too. I looked over my shoulder at the party and shook my head. "Come on guys, be reasonable. There's no room in here for you."

Hunk's face faltered again, but I closed the door before he could speak up again. I left a part of my heart behind the door, but I had Curtis and my celebration to get to.