With the power of illusion strong in her grasp, (Y/N) is recruited into an infamous group with the same ability. Known as the Five Allies, they flee from a stage show gone wrong, only to find themselves in more trouble in Macau, China. Desperate to...
From the sidelines, Julius notices and winces before sending his workers off to help ease the commotion, pausing in shock to watch from the back of the crowd. Fracis glances at the duo creating the distraction, paying no mind to their alarmed yells and swiftly places the tray he was holding onto a nearby bar table, picking up a clear glass of ice water and approaching the appalled male who stands to the side in shock.
"'ave some water," the Frenchman instructs gently, handing the CEO of the company the glass. Julius takes it and sips the cold liquid from the rim distractedly as Francis wraps an arm around his shoulders and begins to lead him towards the back of the room, nearing an area closed off to everyone but staff and main electricians. The male glances around him, taking note on how no one was paying any mind to him before tightly gripping the collar of the man's shirt, pulling him closer so his face jerks towards him. They make direct eye contact before the Frenchman begins to speak, "I feel from your face you are freaked by zhe flow of blood, which is fully fixable in a snap—" he snaps his fingers by his ear causing the Hungarian male to grow dazed. Not once does he break contact as they draw closer to the back of the room.
"—By focusing and following the flow of my words as you're flowing and floating," he snaps his fingers once again, voice alluring with his accent thick, brining the man into more of a hazy state, "which is why you're focusing on my commands." He snaps again, "you 'ave gotten zhis far in life by listening to one voice, the voice in your 'ead— zhis is that voice..." as they walk he places an earpiece into Julius's ear, not once breaking the pattern as his voice begins to echo around the man's head, sending into a daze of hypnotisation.
The Frenchman leads him into a room— a storage closet of sorts, empty and bar with only metal shelves and a single camera set up in the centre of the room, a tiny red light blinking at the top. He stands Julius in front of the camera, a victorious smirk threatening to tug at his lips as he notices the male's lack of response, "Look at zhe light," he leans forwards and whispers into his ear before silently leaving the room, "listen to your own voice..."
"Oh my god!" Yao yells in agony, stumbling as a woman rushes forwards and wraps his wounded arm securely with a black cravat, "thank you, thank you, aru..." he breathes out, hand clenched to his chest. The onlookers sigh with relief as the wound becomes concealed and hidden from their view, guests breathing with shock. He looks up and notices Francis come out from the back room, the blond sending him a wink before walking away. Yao lightly nudges the American next to him.
"Thank you, so much," Alfred thanks the woman who nods with a slightly grim smile at the situation, "you know what?" He starts, standing behind the Chinese male protectively, "you have taught us we are not cut out for this kind of work! We quit!" He declares, moving from the buffet bar with Yao by his side.
Yao scurries off to the side, "Thank you, and goodbye, aru!" He swings his arm as he turns to face the spectators for one last time only for his hand to come flying off. The guests and staff look on with terror and disgust as the loose limb lands in a platter of food on the table, grimacing with mouths agape. Whilst everyone is distracted, the pair swiftly run off and out from the buffet room before anyone has any proper time to react.
"Welcome everybody!" A woman announces from the stage with a series of flashing screens behind her displaying multiple shots of most and a lone, photogenic picture. Arthur watches from the side of the seats, a small, proud smirk tracing his lips, "and now, the moment that you've all been waiting for... revolutionised music with Octa 2–"
"Nice work, (Y/N)." Alfred praises the said female as they make their way through backstage. His eyes widen ever so slightly at her outfit. It was a simple, long sleeve black dress with a low V-neck that stopped a little ways above her knees. Simple, yet sophisticated.
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"Thanks," she gives him a small nod, "didn't do to bad yourself." She meets with the other four, who each wear formal wear of their own aside from one, hidden behind various black cases holding electrical equipment such as speakers and wires, standing in between both Alfred and Francis who stand there albeit anxiously.
"Wow," Ivan starts, still in the security uniform as to not blow his cover, "I'm oddly nervous, and I am not even being the one to go on stage." A small, childlike smile rests on his lips as (Y/N) sends him a look of reassurance before the tense atmosphere is suddenly broken and is instead made mildly awkward in a pitiful, yet humorous, attempt to lighten the mood and release the stress.
"You know," Francis starts, wrapping an arm around the female's waist, "I 'ave 'eard zhat if you are nervous, it can be quite helpful to picture each other naked." He leans towards her with a seductive smirk, a light blush of embarrassment coating the girl's cheeks before she lets out a huff and attempts to shove him away, only for the Frenchman to pursue.
"Yeah...sure." She turns her head away, cringing and silently pleading for help.
Alfred scowls at the male, "It's actually 'picture the audience naked'." He pulls (Y/N) from the long haired blond's clutches and into his side protectively, ignoring the odd look she gives him.
"Ohonhon, jealous, mon ami?" Francis chuckles half-heartedly as the America rolls his eyes. He turns his head over his shoulder and faces Yao, smirking teasingly with a dramatic sigh, "I guess zhat leaves you and me, old friend."
The brunette looks at him twice, grimacing the second time as he steps away from the Frenchman and slaps him on the arm, "What? Picture each other...? Aiya! No— no thanks, aru. Get away from me."
"Is zhat... denial, I 'ear? Regret, maybe?"
"I said get away, aru!" They bicker in hushed whispers, (Y/N) quirking up an eyebrow at them bemusedly before turning her attention to the situation at hand, taking in a deep breath to calm the flurry of butterflies in her stomach.
"—Julius Héderváry!" A round of cheers and claps are heard. (Y/N)'s heart races as she straightens up, 'this is it...'
———————A/N——————— Sorry for the long wait! I'm prioritising a few other of my stories first... mainly because I was stupid enough to publish about five at the same time but whatever. I hope you enjoyed!
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