Lovers Sonata
#1 of Lovers Sonata
A nobody Breloom named Dimitri has no luck in life and a rich rock-star Gardevoir that seems to have everything come face to face in a struggle for her freedom. Can he be the Valentine she needs him to be or will he meet his demise leaving her to her cruel destiny. Most importantly this is a story of Love.
Warning the story will contain violence, and bad language. Also this fiction is inclusive of later sexual acts in future chapters.
Lovers Sonata
Chapter 1
"Love sought is good, but given unsought is better" - Shakespeare
1924hrs, 11 February 2010, Thursday
A huge gathering was amassing before the Blackthorn Palace Theatre, what famous artists considered the Hall of Dreams, the stage of many legendary performances. Hordes of Pokemon and humans wearing their fan shirts adorned with pictures of rock artists, some desperate to get into the concert in hopes of obtaining last minute cancellation tickets or to just crash in without paying. The concert was scheduled to start and the stage was set for what was expected to be Amirtha's performance of a lifetime.
"Hey Dimi, are the sound and light effects set?" The Gardevoir asked, with what she called pre-concert-jitters.
"Yeah, don't worry, they're all set."
The Breloom gazed at her, thinking how wonderful she looked as he was caught in the awe of the moment. There he stood to take a deep dreath and ensnared. With that deep mascara and eye-liner her eyes dazzled him. Her costume was custom tailored to nicely cling to her reveal her cleavage, her chest partially exposed down the front in a V slit black corset and long black skirt, silver bucklers running down the side. She clung like an Arceus sent deity to her sacred Gibson SG guitar.
He had never worked with Amirtha before, though he had heard a great deal about her. He was set to travel with her on her first ever Johto tour. This would be another experience to add to his resume and exciting to say the least. Apart from a reasonably good pay, being a technician allowed him opportunities to travel that he otherwise never would have had. He could honesly place a paw on his heart and say he had been lucky to have even landed this job in the first place.
As he looked away, he could see the there was something quite right. The Gardevoir sighed, with her chest rising and falling. She was already feeling the butterflies fluttering in the pits of her stomach and in swarms. This wasn't her first performance by far but never had she performed to an audience of this magnitude. It could be even said it was was an overwhelming turnout, over a hundred and fifty thousand fans packed into the concert hall, and she had thought the Palace Theatre was huge enough. Dimitri ambled his shying body over to her, and extremely nervously, but he really couldn't be blamed for it. First of she was stunning and secondly she was a big enough celeberity to have been know to make fans fall over by her feet. There was of course a third reason, and that simply was she could sense emotions in others with her psychic abilities. He could call it a strike of fortune that Amirtha was so flustered in her own anxiety she failed to notice that he was as nervous merely being in her presense.
Dimitri laid his red claws on Amirtha's arm and looked up at her, being shorter of the two and clearly by a good foot.
"You're looking amazing, Miss Amirtha. Everyone is here to see you. I'm sure you'll be a knockout." He felt like a complete dork. Was that the best he could come out with? There was a brief deliberation in his voice, once more awestruck how much better she looked this close up and personal. Her fragrance even smelled divine.
Despite what and how bad his words came out, those very words gently gave her the nudge she needed. It hit her that she had been going on about it the wrong way. She had gone out on stage for countless concerts and every time she did the audience loved her, so why should it be any different this time?
"You're absolutely right, Dimi. And quit calling me Miss Amirtha ... damn, you're so formal, just call me Ami or something. Theres really no need for such formalities, it makes me a little uneasy." She smiled with those dark lips and leaned forward, gently placing a kiss to his forehead, followed by a giggle. "I just sensed your heart rate jump past a hundred fifty." Sure enough he felt the blood rush to his face.
Dimitri was thrown a whole nine yards by the little gesture, and so surprised there was absolutely no way he could hide his discomfort from her, but she didn't seem to mind. Perhaps she had gotten used to the feelings she would sense within her fans. He did feel a little shamed by the fact that he'd never listened to her songs, metal and rock wasn't his golden chalice which he would drink divinity from, but this would be a first. He'd already rounded a well educated guess from knowing himself inside out that this would be just like any other gig and he wouldn't enjoy all that damned noise. But the job was as good as any other.
Amirtha descended down the stairs of the stage, her long dress trailing behind her, like it was gliding over a sheet of ice. Her slender legs revealed as her dress split down the centre as she took each step. He wondered, a dark angel? Or was that too cheesy and over used to describe her? He couldn't help but think of her as one of the most beautiful creatures heaven had ever sent to grace into his life, but under her fame and success a guy like him could only dream. Her demeanor was by far gentle, more normal like any other, and not in the least like the other egotistic artists he had worked with. Most of which lacked the kindness and gentleness that she possesed. Maybe her mind had been untouched by the hand of fame.
1946hrs, 11 February 2010, Thursday
Ami took a deep breath as her feet tapped upon the rising platform concealed beneath the stage. It was time. She heard the thunder beats of her intro song kicking in as Gary slammed into his drums with harsh driving swings, and Steph the bass liner hit those strings with her blistering slap base style. The platform steadily ascended as she felt it like lightning coursing through her. The surge of adrenalin flooded through her body. How many times had she fantasized singing right here, in the Hall of Dreams. She had aspired to be like the others since she had released her first album, but will this be her time?
She could hear the roar of the crowd now, her excitement knew no peaking and continued shooting and the momentary fear turned to an everlasting gaze into the mass, feeling breathless just looking. The atmosphere rapturous as crazed fans chanted her name, coming into her line of sight as cheers erupted. Fireworks burst from the platform, strobe lights flashed before her form, and large explosions blew behind her with vibrant colours.
"Hello guys! Thank you for coming out to see me! Are you ready for some hot riffs and licks?" The crowd screamed even louder, and she didn't need her psychic abilities to know what more than half of them were thinking of. She knew this kind of thing was cliched beyond cliche, but fans seemed to respond to this kind of banter rather well.
"Now anyone who has a guitar will love a different string, and you know what my favourite is right? ... What was that? ... You don't? Well let's see!" She turned sideways, pulling back her dress from the slit to show off the side of her underwear. "Yes! It's the G-string! And now we're going to kick off this concert with this song from our second album! It's called the Hollow Riddle!"
There was another uproar of the crowd, and Ami began humming into the mike mounted to her headset. She let her dress fall back into place, then broke out into singing, her voice sweet and loud, but a subsistence of sadness mingled within it as the words came with a thickness of emotions. She hammered down on the strings of her guitar, projecting the strums through the depths of the crowd.
"It crackles, shatters and breaks, into pieces inside of me
It's clear, transparent like a room void of all sounds
A sea of priests to shroud my bitterness
The falling leaves to hide my loneliness
Nothing evermore so elegant as solitude
Only contemplative words to grant insecurity
And it feels like desperation striking me down
And it's cold like god's wrath upon the silent
And I voice myself and it echoes in here
Bounces off the walls and resonates in my ears
One day I shall grasp the hollow riddle that has forgone my sight
To the appeasing salvation that I might find"
The Breloom was clearly knocked out of the ball park, he felt completely breathless. He had always disliked this kind of music, but her voice gave it something in which he adored, with the pitches she was hitting it wasn't surprising why she was so loved. Those octaves were far beyond the range of most vocalists. It was unlike anything he had heard before, and yet, he felt pain in them as if her truth was embedded within those words. The sounds that came from her were by far the most enchanting he had ever heard. If there were such a thing as falling in love with someone's voice this would be it. She moved him like no other singer had ever before. He could feel her powerful presence electrifying the crowd, it was heart rendering, and the reception of her performance was enormous. Screams and thousands upon thousands singing along, her own body infused with her psychic powers, as trails of pink energy blistered away, arcing from her skin, amplifying her dominance of the stage in visual splendour. It didn't take him long to realise that at that moment he had entered the realms of her fandom.
The Breloom watched her on stage song after song, as her green hair swished in sleek momentum back and forth, backed by the exotic motions of her body in sync with the rhythm. She was an A-list performer without doubt, that was a given.
Dimitri had noted one thing, that her personality was a complete contradiction to what it was off stage, as if it was a mere mask to give everyone what they wanted. Out there she literally exuded confidence. It still puzzled him that this was the same person who had gotten what she called pre-concert-jitters earlier.
2107hrs, 11 February 2010, Thursday
There was a small commotion by the side of the stage near Dimitri. A couple of guys just behind Dimitri, the sound technician, Marcel the Zubat and the stage coordinator, Jason the Scyther, were talking loudly so they could hear each other even over the sounds of the music. At first there was nothing to be really bothered about until Dimi overheard their words.
"Damn, I would love to ram into that fucking dirt box. Her ass looks so tight." The Scyther said provocatively.
"Yeah, I know what ya mean. I wanna hammer her till she screams my name. Oooh, Marcel, give me a cream pie. Hahahaha!"
"Listen. Keep your filthy talk to yourselves, she's not a slut. She deserves better."
The two pokemon stopped, looking at the Breloom, he had definitely caught their attention, and they began laughing pretty much in mockery.
"Better? What do mean?" Jason said. "A box headed shit freak like you? Have you looked in the mirror lately? Do you reckon half a piece of ugly crap will ever stand a chance getting with her? Don't play hero kid."
Dimitri felt the words impact him with a force of bulldozer, and yes, there was an attraction he felt towards her, and maybe that was why he actually interrupted. He did want to protect her honour, but there was something else, he felt she was genuinely worth more than the degrading comments they were making, even if he wasn't fit to be anything beyond that.
"Shut your mouth. And you respect her or I will shu ..."
Dimitri had no time to finish his sentence. His eyes suddenly wavered as water rose from his guts to spurt from his mouth, what felt like a powerful strike to his abdomen from the blunt of a blade. It was the Scyther's arm, and he had no chance in hell to avoid it. The force holstered him off his feet and he came crashing down to the ground as pain spread throughout his mid section, gasping completely winded. There was a female cry coming from the stage.
"Leave him alone! Get away from him!" The two pokemon backed apprehensively away from Dimitri, transfixed in a fear of the approaching person. It was Ami, and even though she wasn't a physical fighter she still packed an enormous psychic punch with her abilities.
"Let's go. He's not worth our time, but he's as good as dead." Marcel snarled as he trotted backwards with his colleague till he was out of sight.
Ami put on her stern look to greet the Breloom's unfitting state. For some reason she seemed very pissed at him while he lay in pain.
"I heard what they said when I was coming off stage, and you don't have to defend my honour or something stupid like that. Are you some kind of idiot? There were two of them and both almost twice your size. Next time when you think about stepping in and being a macho hero, just don't!" The Gardevoir's voice strained a little, and Dimitri was completely taken off guard by her reaction.
"But I only ..." He was cut short as the Gardevoir interjected.
"But what? Listen. I know you're only trying to help, but getting beaten up won't do you any good. They can talk all they want, but it's only talk at the end of the day. Now I have to straighten this out. It's your first day so I'll cut you some slack and have a word with my boss not to fire your arse. Or worse, stick you in a body bag. Those two are probably reporting you right now."
Breloom looked down in shame. What exactly did she mean by body bag? It seemed doing the right thing was doing the wrong thing. Was there a chance that she actually liked being spoken to like that, and maybe enjoy it? He felt a harsh slap across his face followed by a stinging throb.
"Don't you dare think of me like that. I ... I ... I'm not that kind of person." She stuttered in a half shocked reply. She was disappointed he would think of her like that.
No further words were exchanged as he struggled onto his feet. He knew it would be awkward working here from now. He felt remorse for his thoughts, and somewhat disgusted in himself for assuming for a moment she was into being talked to like that. There was so much more to her than the pretty face before him. He came to a decision to hand in his resignation, he had made enemies of the co-workers and upset Ami, working under these conditions would be difficult at best.
He began to walk away holding his head low and bracing his leaf like arms across his still aching stomach, and heard Ami's voice.
"Wait."
He turned around to face her, expecting more scorn at his earlier stupidity.
"It doesn't mean I hate you for it, and it doesn't mean you quit the job ... Thank you for what you did back there ... One more thing. Did you think I was, err, too smutty on stage? I felt awkward showing my lingerie, did you think I was a slut out there too?"
"No ... it was just part of the show." Dimitri said.
"Just checking." She replied, sensing he was sincere. Dimitri could hear the insecurity in her voice, and he could tell there was something fragile about her unlike the others.
Maybe he could still be friends with her after all, he accepted that there was no chance in hell getting with her but he preferred being her friend and offering her support anyway. She turned away, with smooth swings of her hips with every step.
2343hrs, 11 February 2010, Thursday
Dimitri lay with the comforts of a bed, staring up at the hotel room ceiling. Half a bottle of bourbon whisky rested on the white tablecloth on the bedside table, and an empty glass in his claw. He couldn't get her voice out of his head. The songs played on repeat within his mind, the words and every decibel that was projected from her vocals etched deep within his perception of the concert.
There was a momentary sigh, partially understanding, but a guy could still dream right? He closed his eyes to imagine her on stage once more, recounting her steps and motions that followed in the flawless rhythm of her voice. He fell asleep shortly after in Ami's beautiful melodies that played his brain on repeat.
0756hrs, 12 February 2010, Friday
The coach had set off while he sat the middle seat towards the front. He liked the view close to the window, catching glimpses of the serene views of the beautiful pastures and mountains that often accompanied his travel. It wasn't the most fantastic scenery but it made for a peaceful sight to dwell in his thoughts, and possibly daydreams.
Ami travelled separately like all the artists he had previously toured with. He felt excited like a school boy to see her perform again and had that giddy rush of what he would associate with as teen hormonal anguish, but it felt good this time rather than what he had felt a few years ago when he had gone through his adolescence.
He wondered if life would have held a new turn should he have taken an offer he had a while back. There was no doubt he was capable of far better usage of the talents he possessed but he wasn't physically experienced as a fighter. He used to provide equipment for the specialists, but it was never his intention of becoming a hired hand. There were instances he had claimed a life or two when he had been taken hostage, but he found it distasteful and distanced himself from being proclaimed by a life that would constantly require him to look over his shoulder. This was probably the better course in life for him, a simple technician.
There was something that really bugged him and that was one of the things that Ami had said the previous night. She had mentioned something along the lines of him ending up in a body bag. He knew Records had a silent partner that owned 60% of the company but he had never really given it much thought. Was this some inconspicuous puppet master that pulled everyone's strings from the shadows, an underworld figure that used Ami to conceal illegal activities? Dimitri realized he was analysing Ami's words a little too closely and it probably was nothing.
1719hrs, 12 February 2010, Friday
Everything had been unpacked from the coaches and the equipment had been arranged on stage. Dimitri looked around the stage for the concert, it was by far smaller than the one they were at last night, but it cried architectural beauty and a vintage classical design. It had retained most of its authenticity from back when it was built 200 years ago as an opera house. There were only a few contemporary changes that held any connection to modern intervention.
The Golden Opera of Goldenrod was one of the most elegant and finest buildings to date, regardless of its age, it symbolised many things, and held many other statues and architectural feats, manually painted ceilings and carved pillars to name a few. It was well maintained and this was one of the few concert halls that was a private theatre, meaning only a select range of various celebrities and government officials and other political figures could be invited to this theatre.
Dimitri got to work along with a small team of technicians as he set the sound equipment up, making sure there were no loose connections and double checking his work to be certain it was all secured and connected correctly. The task at times might have seemed a simple one but each theatre presented its own challenges and not everything would be set up the same. Arranging the visual effects was out of his responsibilities but still he set up a lot of the lights. He worked diligently looking into the rows of empty seats and balconies where the top figureheads would be and visualising how to arrange the raw stylised effects from an angle even they will be able to appreciate. A lot of the last effects were thanks to his improvised ingenuity, regardless if he got the praise or not, it didn't concern him as long as he did his job.
1842hrs, 12 February 2010, Friday
A short finger tapped upon Dimitri's shoulder, whilst kneeling and hooking the final cable up, his mind diverted from the task at hand to whom had tapped him, and his head took a casual turn to face the person who wanted his attention. In that moment he felt a harsh blow to his chin that shook his brain like a tremor, catapulting his body like a hammered nail to the ground. Dimitri shook his head as he rolled in the presence of the creature who had struck him, its bat shadow dwarfed Dimitri's body as he peered up at the hostile figure, realising it was Marcel.
Ending Notes - Thanks for reading this, and there's lots of action and romance to come! Please leave feedback and comments, all are welcome.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. This applies to this chapter and all consequent chapters that will follow.
Cameo role character 'Glacie' has been used with consent of the author, who appears in later chapters.