Summary: Michael attends an awards show and something interesting catches his attention for the first time in a long time.
Content Warnings: Vampire/Supernatural elements mentioned, Angst, feelings of loneliness and isolation.
Wordcount: 5.1K
Authors Note: So I thought I'd try my hand at this writing thing. I've written fics in the past for other fandoms, but this is my first time writing for Michael, so please be nice, but feedback is appreciated!
If you're interested in me making this a series, let me know cause this was fun to write! Tagging @lollipoplies as requested :)
Divider credit to @strangergraphics
After enough centuries, even applause begins to sound lonely. I have been walking this place for so long that time holds very little meaning. It could be millennia now.
Yet here I am again, crawling towards another glittering spectacle of mortal vanity. Another awards ceremony drenched in diamonds, champagne and flashing camera’s so bright they mimic little bursts of daylight.
"How do I always end up back here?” The thought came bitterly.
I am pulled from my thoughts as the door to the limousine opens before I even reach for it. Voices erupt from beyond the barricades. My name is travelling in waves throughout the crowd, some screaming, some crying, and some aren’t speaking at all. Simply frozen in the presence of something they can’t quite comprehend.
I offer them the familiar smile. One that was soft and carefully practised, perfected over lifetimes. Beneath the polished black fabric of my suit, the jewelled glove and the immaculate posture, there was something far older than fame standing under the shimmering golden lights of the theatre's awning.
Something hungry.
Photographers shouted relentlessly as I ascended the crimson-carpeted steps toward the entrance. Each one is desperate for the perfect shot. To humans, the cameras capture what they believe to be perfection. Elegance. Mystery. An Icon untouched by time. None of them noticed how cold I truly was.
As my foot falls on the final step, the scent hits me like a freight train. Thousands of heartbeats, blood pulsing beneath silk gowns and overpriced tuxedos. The air was dancing with it. It curled into my senses like smoke from a snuffed-out candle. Thick and cloying. My throat tightened instinctively.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
I steel myself for what is undoubtedly to be a long evening of restraint and allow my feet to follow the sounds of chatter. As I enter the crowded venue, a young actress bumbles past me, giggling nervously as she adjusts the emerald necklace resting against her pulse. I could hear the rapid flutter beneath her skin with horrifying clarity.
My fangs ached behind my gums, begging to be unleashed. For a fraction of a second, my composure cracks. My eyes darken, the hunger awoken inside me like an ancient beast stretching under cathedral ruins.
Then came the applause. Thunderous and adoring, the mask snapped back in place. Lowering my gaze, I smooth my gloved hand over my jacket. I have survived wars, plagues, burning kingdoms, and revolutions. Yet sometimes the biggest struggle is standing in a room full of living people and pretending I am still one of them.
Light shimmered across the walls draped in ruby velvet curtains and crystal chandeliers, bathing every surface in warmth. Famous faces filled the room, like paintings come to life. All laughing too loudly, smiling too brightly, drowning themselves in attention to avoid whatever emptiness awaited them when the show was over.
Actors. Politicians. Fellow Musicians. Even Royalty is here tonight. Their heartbeats are uneven symphonies that hit my ears, making them ring. Most of them watch me as I enter, straightening subtly in their seats, eager for acknowledgement as I make my way through the cliques of people chatting and towards my own seat for the evening.
I barely look at them. I know this feeling all too well, am all too familiar with the ache of wanting something more but never being able to attain it.
It’s just as I am heaving out a heavy sigh that my attention is pulled by a movement of light. A woman sits two tables away. She sits amongst a glittering cluster of people I assume to be business moguls and up and coming actors, they practically sparkle beneath the soft light of the chandelier, yet she looks utterly detached from them.
She rests one hand delicately beneath her chin, long slender fingers cupping her cheek as the man next to her rambles enthusiastically about the state of the stock market and how he’s going to be lining his pockets very soon. Her expression never changes. Not impressed. Not dazzled. Simply...bored.
The sight was enough to stop me in my tracks. Not because she was the most beautiful woman in the room, though she may very well be. It was the boredom that intrigued me. Her complete indifference, while every other soul in this room strained towards the spotlight like a flower desperate for sunlight. She looked like she would rather be anywhere else on earth.
“How strange”, I ponder to myself, lingering a moment too long, my gaze fixed across the room while applause still crashed somewhere behind me.
The woman glanced up suddenly, large doe eyes met mine as though I had called her by name. Most humans avoid eye contact with me or look away quickly. Some primal hardware is ingrained to sense the beast simmering beneath the glamour.
She didn’t.
If anything, she looked mildly curious. Like I had interrupted her thoughts rather than shaken her soul. A slow, subtle smile touched my lips before I was conscious of it.
Somewhere deep beneath centuries of solitude, beneath a monster fighting to take control. I feel something inside me stir, that familiar melancholy ache in my chest.
I couldn’t bring myself to look away.
Still watching me, she lifted a glass of champagne from the table and tilted it slightly in my direction. Not starstruck. Not nervous. If anything, she seemed amused.
As though she knew something the rest of the room did not.
