The Callas were an interesting bunch, and each one of them didn't wait too much before losing themselves in the dance, the drink, or simply a nice chat with old friends. The way they enjoyed themselves and seemed to mix perfectly within the ambient of club Kalon made Cecilio reconsider his behavior for an instant. Cherry noticed this when he approached them out of his own volition and saw with a little bit of relief how he participated in the conversation and then finally went closer to hear the vampires and their silly discussion.
She wished someone would pay her to babysit such a grown man.
Cecilio held good relationships with the vampiric community of the city since if it weren't for their leader, he would’ve been dead or lost his way long ago. These good relationships still weren’t enough to make him try to stop whatever had all these people this enraged. It would need just one interruption to make vampires hiss and bare their fangs at each other and then at him, not a pretty sight. Cecilio was outnumbered and also confused that the many mojitos he’d been drinking didn't kick in yet, so he analyzed the situation before trying to search for someone that could help.
Leaning on the wall and listening to the conversation was the first step, and the contents of such amazed him to the point he fought to contain his laughter. Here he thought they were fighting over territory or the constant debate over artificial or real blood, their two favorite things, but seeing the way immortal beings like vampires got heated over historical facts was amusing enough to consider this party a hit. Because vampires were known for how graceful and dignified they came across, creatures of the night that were blessed by the red moon. These same beings were now into a heated argument about old Hollywood cinema, throwing facts, anecdotes, and references to the point they kept contradicting themselves repeatedly with clashing facts. One of them was Vittorio, who seemed extremely heated as he passed his hands over his brown hair trying to explain how right he was about some old western movie.
“You’re telling me I’m wrong?! I'm in the wrong, Isabella, when I have that picture with Clark Gable on the set? Wrong about The Misfits?!”
“Man, I'm just telling you that you’re not remembering the plot correctly! And you are just using this as an excuse to talk about you meeting Clark Gable again!” yelled back a lady with black hair and contrasting pale skin, she looked slightly older than Vittorio and also seemed fed up with his constant screaming.
Vittorio really liked cowboy movies, but he was also known to have a terrible memory. For example, he was right now misremembering the chronological order of some scenes and Marilyn Monroes’ character motivations. One of the girls even went as far as to search for the movie on her phone and the whole vampiric council that had reunited that night to celebrate Antares Callas was too busy proving a stubborn man wrong... If that was even possible.
A shadowy figure contrasted with the purple neon lights that illuminate the floor and the walls, the man sitting at the back of the room on an empty couch caught Cecilio’s attention by the way he seemed so unruffled and serene, with his hands on his polished black cane and entertaining himself with the way others play in front of him. After Cecilio properly greeted everyone and ignored the surprised reactions to his presence, he went to sit next to the old man enjoying a bottle of blood by himself.
The vampire Cecilio so casually approached was tall, pale, and older-looking than the rest, even if in comparison to some of them he was younger in age, but he got the luck of getting turned into a vampire when he was reaching his 50s. He was dressed in a navy blue suit with a black ascot, and in his chest hung a white gold medallion with a big black obsidian encrusted. A white gold chain coming from his pocket decorated his waistcoat, giving him even more of a classic, refined look, his jet black hair with only one grey lock of hair was perfectly slicked back, showing a pale and pristine handsomely chiseled face with some aging lines on his forehead and mouth, and those long lower lashes under his clear gray eyes that looked at Cecilio with lots of tenderness, something usual of him since this man was the closest thing to a father he ever had. His name was Elliot Foster, head of the vampires in Teria and a successful businessman that made his fortune by creating safe commerce of blood, both real and artificial, for all vampires across the world.
“Delighted to see you, Elliot.”
“It should be me who said that,” said the vampire in a deep voice that was a little husky. “For you to get out of your cave I hope it’s that you craved some company and nothing else.”
Cecilio snorted and sat on the black sofa next to him. “Looks like it is really weird for me to be here… I thought I could blend in by using the birthday party as an excuse.”
“For that to work you should attend all of Antares’ previous parties. The last time you did was probably his atelier’s inauguration.”
“That’s too much work and I’m not a party person, you know that,” he only got a smile as an answer. “Even so, I’m surprised you’re here. You’re more of a formal event type of guy.”
“I believe this one to be a rather formal and lovely party. Haven’t seen anyone grinding onto any surface or getting intoxicated.”
“Yet. It’s early, just give it some time.”
Elliot laughed at the idea that such a spectacle could happen later that evening, but he simply rested his back on the couch, his eyes fixed on the round golden handle of his cane and the black gems encrusted on it.
“Didn't you know? Antares has been my tailor for the past year. Wouldn’t dare deny his invitation and cause such a joyous boy any type of aggravation.”
Cecilio looked at him in shock at the revelation. Elliot Foster was not a man that played around with his appearance, and Cecilio has known him ever since he was a child, and if there was something he knew with certainty these past 27 years about Elliot was that he hadn’t changed his barbershop in 50 years, or a tailor in the last 40. He was as fastidious as a 200-year-old man could be about many things like his job, his community, or his house and manners, but the way he presented himself was where his meticulousness came off the strongest. Cecilio can clearly remember trying to go shopping with him as a teen and coming back home very upset and almost crying because he didn’t understand that a suit just wasn't the cheapest jacket, pants, and dress shirt he could get.
Seeing Elliot choosing Antares, with that bad reputation that preceded him before he cleaned up his act, to be his new particular tailor made him curious.
“That I didn’t know! Why did you change tailors?”
“Life circumstances.”
“Ah, so he died?”
Elliot sighed and drank a sip of his drink.
“Yes. Old man Luciano worked hard, even until his last days. When I got called to for the funeral I worried that I would never be able to find anyone with enough care for detail, who acted with propriety and that I simply trusted enough to be poking around my body with pins.”
“You’ve said many things that I wouldn’t have chosen to describe Antares, at least not until last year when he did this for me.”
He pointed at his coat, remembering how the elf that was now cheerfully chatting with whoever approached him on the dance floor looked so focused and devoted to doing his job. A stark difference from the guy that used to get himself in trouble and then hide in his apartment and beg for grandma Amina to bail him out.
“Our professional relationship has been enjoyable. And he’s funny, so are these idiots in front of me fighting over the most menial things,” he took one hand and massaged his temple. “Can you believe they’ve been at it for five hours already? With various topics? Whatever pops up in the conversation will elicit some sort of discussion I’m afraid.”
“Maybe they just wanted to argue tonight, at least they haven’t caused any trouble… And speaking of troubles, you wouldn’t like, I don’t know, misplaced one of the grimoires of your vast collection somewhere lately?”
Cecilio focused on his short nails, trying to ignore how Elliot stopped enjoying the scarlet red blood in a whiskey glass to glare at him from the corner of his eye, looking not so pleased with what he just heard. Elliot wasn’t simply a vampire but an efficient witch too, well versed in different fields of magic. Not only that, but he trained Amina himself when she was younger and aided Cecilio’s training. The only reason he didn’t take on the role of the master was that Cecilio refused, and in the end, it had been the best decision. If this man was that level of fussy while talking about the importance of clothes and personal grooming the idea of having him as his full-time magic teacher gave even the Grand Witch nightmares.
“A lost grimoire? My collection is entire and pristine so you got your eyes on the wrong witch dear.”
He sighed in defeat and let his head hang on the back of his seat, Elliot immediately reprimanded him for his poor posture, but Cecilio was too worried to attend to him. Of course, Elliot could never lose anything of that beautiful magic library he owned in his penthouse, but this didn’t mean that The Order was playing around in the city. Thinking the worst first has been something Cecilio tried to fix, but it was hard when you had so many people depending on you. He preferred to prepare himself for the worst-case scenario and then get pleasantly surprised when proved wrong.
Cecilio hoped it was a lost grimoire in amateur hands and nothing else.
“May I inquire as to what troubles you tonight?” asked Elliot.
“Work. As always. But I’ll be fine so don’t worry about me.”
“I trust you will make it out of this one, as you always do. Still, don’t be scared to ask for help, Cecilio. I’ll always lend a hand if I can.”
Eliot put a hand with a golden ring that had a big sapphire on his index finger on Cecilio’s shoulder, and he wished he could say the warmth comforted him, but vampires emanated such coldness from their undead bodies that it gave chills to the average person not used to being around them. Yet Eliot’s coldness was familiar and reassuring. It calmed his nerves a little.
“Aw, you guys are so cute!”
They both looked up to see Antares, who approached them after sending all of the vampires away to Elliot and Cecilio’s surprise.
“Wait? Where’s everyone going?” asked Cecilio.
“Had to break up the fight before they started with the hissing and made others uncomfy. These things could escalate easily and I’m not letting them ruin my first free night in months,” He sat next to Cecilio and rested his head on the witch’s shoulder, looking slightly exhausted. “And if you want to know my trick, I simply told them I would revoke their free bar rights for the night if they didn’t dance or something.”
“A true genius, yet so cruel,” commented Elliot. “Just to inform you, I never participated in the discussion.”
Antares snorted. “I don’t think you would ever do that, less for a movie or whatever else they were fighting about.”
“Maybe not for a western, but I enjoy romantic dramas a lot. What I wouldn’t do is ruin your party, so I’ll reprimand them properly later.”
To Cecilio’s surprise, the man to his side hid his face and you could only see the top of his head and the tips of his long pointy ears when Elliot smiled at him, trying to hide his flustered state by fixing a falling braid back into his hair bun, only that it made the vampire’s smile grow wider and his long fangs slightly showed when he noticed the bracelet he had on.
“Glad to see you liked the gift.”
Antares stopped himself and looked at the gold bracelet around his thin wrist with oval-shaped emeralds. Antares loved jewelry, and the penchant for gold was a distinctive characteristic in the Callas lineage, so when a package from one of the top jewelry stores in the country with a bouquet of the prettiest magnolias he’s ever seen was sent to his house earlier that same day he was more than excited. When he read the card on the flowers he immediately wanted to safe keep it until the day he died. Elliot even took the time and care to arrange a gift with his birthstone on it, and this caring nature of his didn’t make the crush Antares had been harboring these past months any easier.
Such a thoughtful gift almost made him want to confess. With anyone else, he could easily flirt, playfully babble about his fleeting feelings caused by sudden infatuations because it was such an exciting and fun thing to do, but with Elliot, he got nervous and confused, and with the way the corner of his eyes wrinkled whenever he smiled Antares just couldn't help the way his cheeks warmed up or think of something quick to say. After Antares giggled a little he composed himself.
“You possess exquisite taste, Elliot. Both in clothing and jewelry and now I was rewarded with an amazing gift from you. Feeling like I should give you a discount next time.”
"No, please!" he chuckled. "For work as fine and delicate as yours, I would feel bad not to pay full price."
They both laughed, and Cecilio thought to himself there was something peculiar about this conversation, but he was also confused as to why he wasn’t at least a little bit tipsy yet. He gave up on getting drunk that night, since his worries were too much, so much that Elliot stopped the pleasant conversation he had with Antares to look at the sulking men sitting between them.
“Tired already? Or may I press about the grimoire thing a little more?”
Cecilio slid down on his seat even more and Elliot quietly hissed.
“Got distracted, haven’t slept well in days and I messed up at this Grand Witch thing again…”
“Now tell us something we don’t know by now,” at the comment, Cecilio frowned, but Antares was busy looking at the amethyst cufflinks Situla had gifted him and he was now showing them to Elliot. “I imagined you would ask Elliot, and by that frown, I see you got no answer. Does it mean you’re leaving?”
“Maybe 20 minutes ago I would’ve given up and left,” continued Cecilio, finally sitting correctly on the couch to give Elliot some relief. “Dammit, maybe 5 minutes ago I would’ve known that I was wasting my time coming here to search for information and not… To enjoy your party, Antares.”
Something that characterized Antares was that spark in his eyes whenever he was happy, and you could easily see it make its appearance as he saw Cecilio asking one of the waiters for another drink and pulling his cigarette case out of his coat to spend the night relaxing with friends. Now he was sitting in between two of his most beloved people, and the music was quite good too, and so was the good energy everyone brought to the party. If there was something the Grand Witch enjoyed the most out of this stressful job was to see how peaceful life could be when he did his job right. He planned to keep it that way.
Cecilio chose to enjoy the night a little longer.
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