ACT SEVEN; SET ONE: A FAMOUS SINGER
"SO WHY DID YOU CALL US, OLD MAN?" Joseph spoke, curious to where he and the other two had planned ongoing. The day had already finished its job and so let the night do its own. The air when the night has fallen usually becomes frigid and quick to sting one's bare skin. But it wasn't the main problem for Joseph or his companions, it was where they were going. The only thing about this he knew was that Speedwagon called him and Caesar, and this-as the old man stated-is an important meeting.
Speedwagon briefly glanced behind him. "Remember the fight you had with those men?" He asked.
"The drunk men or the sleazy masked men?" Joseph tilted his head. From what it sounded like, JoJo was making a joke but in truth, his question was genuine.
Silence invaded their conversation then fled after Robert took a moment to process what Joseph had asked. "The-The masked men." stuttered Robert. "Caesar and I talked about this earlier and we agreed on one thing, JoJo."
Joseph furrowed his brows and scowled. "Wait, how come Caesarino and you get to talk without me?-"
"The thing is, JoJo, those masked men's powers are far beyond our hamon skills. And those rings of yours aren't going to delay your funeral." Caesar said, facing Joseph from his side. Joseph gulped, that disturbing moment when the two mysterious men placed their rings inside his body resurfaced in his mind as soon as Caesar mentioned the rings. "That's when I remembered I had someone to teach me about hamon and maybe we can stop those mafiosos in time."
Joseph's eyes bounced at his surroundings: darkness won over the towering buildings, the people walking by, and the fewer bars and shops established across this street-and only posts and the light visible through the windows showered warm glow on several spots. All of what he saw didn't arouse 'a hamon teacher nearby'. "So where is this teacher you're talking about?" He asked.
"Well, my mentor doesn't stay in one place-except for their home obviously. They work from place to place." Caesar explained.
Joseph nodded, yet from his wrinkled expression, he still seemed confused. "The only thing that is coming to my head is a singer." He shrugged.
His blonde friend nodded. "You nailed it right in the head."
"That's what Abel said before he died," Joseph smirked.
Caesar glared. "He died from a rock that his brother Cain whacked on his head, not a nail."
That cheeky smirk on the Englishman vanished. He lowered his gaze on his shoes and once his face lit up with something flickered in his mind, he stared back at Caesar. "I guess we could say the rock CAIN kill him." Joseph joked, letting out a snicker afterward. As for his Italian friend, his hand slapped on his face, and groaned low.
Caesar peeked through the gaps of his finger, a large building with jazz music and voices sounding inside immediately caught his attention. A handful of people stared long at the poster glued on the building's wall for some sort of clarification, then entered the bar with enthusiasm. Curiosity bit Caesar hard. He walked towards the poster, leaving the other two fuddled by his sudden decision of his. As he settled his gaze on the poster, a lady in a fancy silk English violet dress and fuzzy bronze-tinted coat posing in a seductive pose pictured in the banner, holding a microphone up to her jaw. That got to be her.
Suddenly, Joseph stepped next to him, leaning forward to take a look and it quickly frightened him for a second. "What's so important about a poster? Oh, I get it, you're planning to get more ladies than you already have." He said, placing a glare on Caesar. "Quit getting distracted, goldie-locks, didn't you just say you're leading us to your mentor?" He grunted and pinched Caesar's arm.
The blonde man's eyes twitched as the electrifying pain shook in his limb. "I wasn't distracted, I was looking at the poster to see if it was her," said Caesar, rubbing the pain away. His tall companion cocked his head in the slightest and stared at the banner for a long long minute.
And all that the British boy could let out was 'oh'.
"Let's not waste time, boys, I'm sure we're just in time." Speedwagon said and decided to be the first of the three to enter the bar. Obviously, the two young men followed him inside.
The three sat down at the corner of the bar, settling with their drinks. Waiters and Waitresses walked around and as usual, served drinks and food to customers. Musicians from the stage playing their instruments fast-paced before the singer for tonight shows up. The bartender kept the customers satisfied with the drinks they served. Customers-either in groups or alone-enjoyed their food and drinks, most shared laughs and chats but some didn't or chatted quietly.
Cigarette smoke wafting in the air alongside its stench that flowed river inside everyone's nostrils. The people didn't seem to care, all were distracted by the music, their booze, and their enjoyment. Even with the mafia taking over the city, their respect for art remained and when the singer emerged from those back curtains, they're sure to stay quiet and enjoy how beautiful art can be.
Joseph coughed and removed his gaze from the crowd. "Talk about a bar, your mentor could've picked a better bar rather than this one. This place is rammed with smokers." He said, frowning at Caesar.
Caesar groaned, facing the trickster. "Since when was a bar a no-smoking zone, JoJo?"
"I'm just saying... Wait, is your mentor a smoker as well?" Joseph asked.
"Let me think... Okay. How about this, why don't you mind your business and don't ask personal questions?" Caesar smiled yet he felt his head aching from anger. And Joseph didn't take the response gladly and Speedwagon inhaled deeply as if he was preparing for the biggest eruption of anger.
"How was that question even personal?" Joseph snarled.
"How would a bar be a no-smoking zone?" Caesar snarled back.
"Enough, both of you quiet down." Speedwagon in a firm tone spoke between mumbles of both boys. "You're going to catch unwanted attention and it might come from a gang. We already caught one before and... it didn't end as we expected."
Caesar was the first to stop babbling. What had happened with his friend Mark engraved itself in his mind. He would wake up in the middle of the night and occasionally get short tantrums that turned into long sessions of sobs. He had all reason to be mad at his friend's death... such a painful way, no last words, nothing. Just his mutilated, cut-in-half body laying on a pool of his blood. He must've been so scared, there were missing posters throughout the city for Mark Betzler; his dear friend from East Germany.
Mark was just lucky to make it out of there.
That couldn't be said for the rest of his family, however... but they were slightly safer, the situation of East Germany is bad but at least they didn't have any gangs or mafias in there because of the strict Soviet rule. But they were never going to find out about Mark's death.
Caesar sighed, looking down at the glass poured with wine, scarce features of his face reflected on the liquid. If only he was there in time to save his dear friend. Caesar had saved him before-from assaults mostly. After the war, everyone despised Germany because of the dictator's wrongdoings, and they're still trying to make them pay for the damages the Nazis caused. Kids that were born after the war were abused and humiliated because of the stigma.
When he thought about it, it almost pushed him to the limit to shed tears. Goddamn it, Mark, you just had to. He couldn't restrain his anger but he could never blame his best friend for sacrificing his life. I just wish you could have waited for us longer. And there were a lot of things he wished that could happen and not happen, but thinking more of it fed his guilt.
He lifted the glass and drank the entire wine: bitter, sweet, sour, all of it combined. He took a minute of staring into the glass, with a thought floating inside his brain. That thought battling against the painful, intrusive memory of his friend dying in front of his eyes.
Caesar blinked. "She's a smoker." He muttered. The memory dripped down as the thought of finally kissing up to Joseph.
"She? Smoker?" Joseph asked, intrigued more than ever. Who exactly was this person? Also, lungs are vital for hamon users... right? Thoughts ran through Joseph's mind, trying to figure out who this mysterious 'mentor' might be.
"Yeah." Caesar nodded. "But she only smokes when she's stressed."
"Who doesn't smoke when they're stressed?" Joseph said.
"Non-smokers?" Caesar furrowed his eyebrows and shrugged.
"Oh. Did not think about that..." Joseph said, looking down.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Thank you for the audience we got here!" A man with a top chat tilted on his slicked-back shiny hair. "I know that some of you came here for the booze and our good drinks." He winked and smirked. Some chuckled but others like Caesar, Joseph, and Robert stayed silent."But I know, most of you came here for the talented singer that was most kind to sing for us tonight." The man announced with great enthusiasm.
Robert glanced down on his watch. Something snapped in his mind. "Uh... boys?" He let out as the two looked away from the man on the stage and stared at him with one brow lifted. "I have to go, I promised Erina and Smokey dinner. Can't miss her special brewed tea."
When he rose from his seat, a hand clamped over his' on the table. He gazed up, Joseph too stood and pierced his glaring eyes on him. "Promise you won't tell Granny Erina about what happened." Joseph pleaded. Both of them knew how much Erina gets worried whenever Joseph gets hurt or that the past returns to haunt them longer. She already lost her husband and son and their deaths were related to the mask. She can't lose one more family because of it, she can't let the past haunt her, her friends, and mostly her grandson.
Robert nodded, then left without a word while the two youngsters watched. Joseph sat back in his seat and settled his eyes on the man from the stage together with Caesar.
"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight's show we present to you, Eliza!" The announcer nodded at the musicians. The musicians slowered their pace on their instrument, the notes changed into a more jazz genre. The spotlight moved from the stage floor to the center of the red curtain. People's chatter became whispers, turned into hushness. The show begins.
"You had plenty money in 1922."
The curtains opened, a lady in a english violet silk dress held a microphone stand with one hand and walked forth the stage's area. "You let other women make a fool of you." Lips painted with a glossy raspberry hue. Her resting blue eyes hovering at every audience member and when her gaze met Caesar and Joseph, she took a minute, then looked away. Her slick and long black hair was shining under the spotlight as she sang.
"Is this the mentor you were talking about?" Joseph whispered as he gestured at the singer. Caesar, without staring, nodded. He (Joseph) didn't protest and accept the answer, yet he was still in shock and it showed.
"Why don't you do it right?" The singer lifted a brow, her singing voice had a tone of disinterest. She eyed every man from the audience with goring glares, also giving them a frown afterwards. "Like some other men do."
Instead of an offended reaction from most of the audience, they watched, interested. It wasn't that they weren't taking her song seriously, it was accurate. They were all focused on her singing and the talents of the musicians. As said before, everyone respected art even at this trying time. Art was the escape of people other than booze or drugs. It's what makes some talented people get the opportunity to dismiss the shitty world and enjoy life.
Art always gets to the hearts of people and to the passion of musicians, artists, and writers. People's passion helps them get through by money and protection. Protection which means safer than the watchful eye of the corrupt government or the mafia. Several didn't get to that stage because they couldn't show the respect those people deserve. Surely enough, they knew it was worth it to stand up for themselves.
Even after the great depression, you can't fight against the unjust ways of the government or the mafia, you're always gonna be the weak one.
"Get out of here and get me some money, too." Eliza leaned to the nearest audience. She winked and later on, the particular audience member flushed. She placed her gaze on the farthest audience and found the two once again.
She didn't smile. "You're sittin' down wonderin' what it's all about." She sang.
"You ain't got no money that will put you out."
"Why don't you do right?" She lifted a brow and the one edge of her lips, slightly showing her bared teeth. The guitarist strum strings in a flow. "Like some other men do."As soon as it was the musician's turn, the costumers bobbed their heads to the song. Eliza grinned and bobbed her head with them, glancing behind her. She watches as tapping the musicians' shoes against the floorboard in sync with the tune, they eventually notice her grin and smile back.
"If you had prepared twenty years ago... You wouldn't be wanderin' now from door to door."
Everyone knows how the mafia always demands money for protection fees and it's very obvious that they don't take kindly when you delay payment. At this trying time, they sure know the people are suffering from debts and getting money. But here we are, Eliza singing a song about a lady who complains of her man's lost opportunity of making money. The song didn't have the same meaning as what's happening now via made-men might be going around to demand money from folks because they owe them. Though, it felt like that to some people. Few could have mistaken the song's meaning about a woman who complains that her lover is a made-men, looking stupid for demanding money.
Of course during this time, all they could think was to pay and pay but having no money wasn't the only problem. The innocent would get stuck in territory wars, get blamed for something they didn't do, or dragged to join a family. In the worse case, stupidly insulting a person that's part of a family.
Caesar peered at his side, Joseph half-lid eyed the stage performers. "Are you tired?" He worriedly asked.
Joseph nodded, laying his head in his hands. "I'm fine. It's just that the rings are doing a number on me." He mumbled. "And the smokers aren't making it easier for me to breathe properly."
Caesar quickly remembered the moment the two masked men had placed rings inside him somehow. He could've tried saving him but he already saw how the first one attacked him, he couldn't risk it. But thank God because Joseph got his way out of dying. He was weak with his hamon skills but he was sure clever to cheat death. He also didn't have to deal with another death in one day.
When I find those men again, I will make it a painful death. He clutched the table cloth, his fists trembling, his fingers pushing against his palm. Calm down, idiot. He breathed slowly, his hands releasing the cloth, its side becoming wrinkly. A waiter served more drinks to the empty-handed customers and Caesar noticed within blurred vision. Once the waiter walked closer, he reached for the tray and grabbed a glass of whiskey. The waiter-after the sudden take of Caesar-gave him a surprised expression and when they walked away then glanced over their shoulders a few times.
He drank half of it, the whiskey burnt on its path down his stomach. Spice lingered in his mouth then went to his gut. He coughed twice but he handled it. He drank once more, it was the same strong bitter taste but more tamed. The bitter taste stinging his throat. His mind focused on the feeling then the focus grew bigger and the anger oozed away. The anger will come back sooner , just not now.
Without his attention on his surroundings, he jumped as the others-except for Joseph-clapped and cheered for the performance that Eliza and the musicians played. Eliza grinned and bowed before she waltzed behind the curtains and the musicians played with a different and bouncy tune.
Caesar stared at Joseph. But as he opened his mouth to speak, Joseph had already snoozed in his seat, with his head upward, his arms folded, and his jaw open wide.
"Oi, Joseph!" Caesar scowled, calling out to the brown haired man sitting right next to him with his usual annoyed tone. He swore, this 'Joseph Joestar' was the strangest and most irritating person he had ever met in his life, he was nothing like the great 'Jonathan Joestar' that his grandfather, William Zeppeli, died for. Didn't he have at least a little bit of passion for the arts? Or couldn't he at least respect or even appreciate it? Either way, there was no way in hell he was going to work with this himbo and he had already made it clear with Signore Speedwagon.
Joseph let out a yawn before lazily fluttering his eyes open at Caesar's direction as he stretched his arms up, "What?" He groaned.
"The performance is over, we have to go meet her." He said as he steadily got up from his seat. "Also fix yourself."
Joseph sighed, stretching his arms and lifting himself slightly to relieve the pain in his ass. After doing most that he could at this moment, he stood from his seat, he rolled his shoulders as if he was pushing off the invisible baggage that settled atop. He stretched once more, reaching at the ceiling, then bounced a few times. At this point, Caesar knew two things: Either that Jojo was trying his best to relieve his back pain or that Jojo was trying to annoy him. His brows furrowed at Jojo, his foot tapping on the ground, impatiently.
Joseph glanced after he stopped bouncing and reaching at the ceiling. "What?" He barked. "Don't tell me you don't get exhausted after you sleep in an uncomfortable position."
Caesar scoffed. "I do! But the thing is you're just wasting our time."
The Englishman tilted his head left to right as he walked past Caesar. He didn't say a word or didn't give a look which infuriated Caesar very well but he kept his anger to himself, remembering the words of Robert. You're going to catch unwanted attention and it might come from a gang. This little bickering of both men wasn't big of a deal but soon enough one of them will erupt and talk about how the other was useless and arrogant, adding to spilling the beans as in their mission to stop this mysterious gang. A possibility of another gang hearing this was surreal and could lead to the gang they fought before to know.
Caesar gave up and led the way to the backroom. Both said excuse me to the people they bump into following up to a short apology. No one noticed them entering the door through the backstage. The chatter of the people and the stench faded as each step they took to get inside the room. They laid eyes on the corridor where staff, musicians, singers, would walk around. A handful of staff would carry boxes of instruments and tools, the musicians would check their musical instruments if they were in the right tune, singers like Eliza entered their private rooms. One small hard board plastered on the door and they caught interest in it. A name was written on the polished board. Eliza Leeza.
They were going to go towards the door until they noticed the two bodyguards; leaning on the walls-standing beside the door-glancing at a few people who they deemed suspicious. One of them stuck a toothpick between their teeth and twisted it to get a small piece out, the other just idled and pinched their nose whenever someone passed by. Surprisingly, Joseph and Caesar stood taller and buffer than the bodyguards. Caesar didn't judge though, people were strong in their way, for example, his mentor. He was pretty sure that his mentor had taught a thing or two to these bodyguards.
Caesar heard a laugh next to him. He turned his head and saw Joseph covering his grin as he laughed. Joseph snickered, "Talk about security.". Caesar refrained from the gag trying to push his closed lips open and let out his laughter. He couldn't truly deny how Joseph can be a goof. He has a personality contrasted to what he heard about Mr. Jonathan.
A gentleman who dearly loved his family, who sacrificed his life to save them. Such a shame a person with a heart of gold always gets the wrong treatment.
"Don't judge too much, JoJo." He said. "They're probably stronger than you." He heaved a breath and walked forward.
The younger man followed him. "I was only joking, besides, you're probably right." Joseph shrugged and Caesar smiled in the victory he easily earned. "But once, this mentor taught me more. I'll probably get stronger than them."
His smile disappeared just as soon as his companion let out another word. He glared over his shoulder where Joseph in sight walked behind. What an annoying brat.
Suddenly, one of the bodyguards held out his hand and stopped them in their direction, sending a quick shock through Caesar's chest. Caesar's eyebrows wrinkled. The bodyguard bared his teeth. "Eliza is busy right now so why don't you move along, pal." He snarled, nodded his head to the side as a gesture to get away. Caesar almost showed his disbelief but he continued glaring in frustration which ran around his head.
"I'm sorry, but we are friends with Eliza." He said in a well-mannered way. Though his head started aching just by how these bodyguards touched him like that. He can't blame them but God it angered him.
The bodyguard with the toothpick laughed. "Friends? Since when did she start making friends with guys like you?" He chuckled with the other. He stepped closer to the blonde, an angered look replaced the amusement in the bodyguard's expression. "Just move along pal or you're cruisin for a bruisin."
A quiet growl escaped through the teeth Caesar gritted. Joseph, unexpectedly, pushed Caesar aside-he also had a look of enragement. "The only guys here that are gonna get one are the guys in front of us." He scowled. "Don't you even try pushing my limits because I swear, a bruise is not the only thing coming your way."
The guards looked at the pair, even more unconvinced. They eyed each other and one of the guards began to speak. "Look, I've already told you once that Eliza isn't gonna talk with a bunch of-"
He was immediately cut off once they heard the door open. "Guards!" A high-pitched voice came from the inside and the door opened, revealing a blonde girl wearing a blue puffy dress and a bandana around her head. "Signorina Lisa Lisa hates the commotion out here and she wanted to..." She paused as she gaped behind.
She saw Caesar first then next was a stranger (JoJo) beside him. She gasped. "Caesar! It's been a long time since I saw you!" She exclaimed enthusiastically at the sight of her old friend.
Caesar smiled and waved. "Hey, Suzie Q." He glanced at the bodyguards, feeling the victory raining on him and the embarrassment washed on the two's faces..
Suzie Q. giggled before she spoke. "Let them pass. Signorina Lisa Lisa expects them."
The bodyguards nodded and in fear of disappointing Lisa Lisa, they stepped aside. Caesar stepped inside, ignoring them. However, as JoJo followed he let out his tongue, mocking the guards. The bodyguards almost wanted to beat him up but that was impossible without getting fired. At least, they didn't have to deal with such nuisances.
Caesar and Joseph went inside the private room with smirks they showed each other. Across the room a phonograph-sitting on a drawer next to the bureau-played a jazzy and relaxing tune. Joseph quickly coughed as the cigarette stench reached for him.
Eliza wasn't smoking, she smoked but she finished. The halfly used cigar was pinched onto the ashtray and it still pumped smoke.
In fact, the singer sat in a chair that turned its back to the front door and to the three. Although, her blunt look was visible from the mirror before her. She held a small cloth, smearing off the make up her maid Suzie applied on her. Unlike on the stage, she seemed more serious and frightening with the aura she was intending. She wore a different dress or should we say a different suit.
A warm red cotton jacket, beneath the jacket she wore a white polo shirt.A striped scarf with green and red around her neck-the edges dropped on her back. From below were another warm red pants, cuffed above her ankles. She didn't wear heels but yet another warm red polished saddle shoes.
Suzie stepped forward. "Signorina Lisa Lisa. Here is Caesar and his companion." She said,
"Thank you, Suzie Q. You may go first to the car. Me and the boys have to discuss something." Lisa Lisa smiled, seen from her reflection. "Also, grab my things on your way."
Suzie nodded and left with the things left on the drawers. As soon as the door slammed shut, Lisa Lisa immediately got up from her seat and walked towards the two. "Show me your ears, boy." told Lisa Lisa, snapping her fingers at Joseph.
"W-What? Me?" Joseph stuttered. The woman nodded and he obeyed since he was too afraid of what she could do to him. And for a second, Caesar smirked, undeniably amused, watching this stubborn brat getting scared.
Joseph huffed, uncomfortable of the silence as he watched her flipping his head to see his sides. "Hey, lady. What are you- AGH!" Something metallic clicked and tightened around his right ear next was his left ear, then that's when he found out Lisa Lisa forced a metallic mask on him.
He tried to remove it, scratching the thick edges or pulling it from his mouth, nothing worked. Losing control of his breath, the mask shifted its gear and pressed tightly over his nose and mouth. He choked for air but nothing worked.
"That mask will help you maintain the proper rhythm of breathing and when you don't, it'll suffocate you." Lisa Lisa explained.
With few breaths, Joseph muttered. "Really helpful, lady! Especially when I'm going to die!" He complained. His voice started to sound hoarse.
Caesar snorted. "Just take deep breaths, JoJo. It isn't that much of a big of a deal."
"ISN'T THAT MUCH OF A BIG DEAL? I'M SUFFOCATING, CAESAR!"
"It's because you are not holding the proper breathing for hamon. Breathe properly and the mask won't suffocate you." Lisa Lisa scowled. The mask was going to break his jaw when Joseph breathed deeply, it eased and went back into its normal size. In desperation, he was going to breathe in a lot of air, but it would've caused him to go back where he made a mistake. "Good job, JoJo. Sooner enough, that mask won't be much of a task for you. Unless you use your mouth to ramble instead of doing so."
Joseph twitched, grumbling under the sizzling frustration. "You're one to talk, lady. When this mask is off my face, I will hurt you. Just because you're a woman, doesn't mean I'll be soft."
Lisa Lisa appraised the boy, up and down, left to right. A grin briefly appeared on her face but replaced by a blank look. "With that attitude of yours, that'll take you about forever." She said, grabbing a folder from the bureau before leaving the room. She didn't have to hear the frustrated screeching from Joseph or the laughing from Caesar.
As Caesar and Joseph exited the bar, they found a limousine parked by. One of the windows slid down revealing Lisa Lisa's stare. When they noticed her staring, the window lifted up, blocking the outside world from seeing whatever was inside the limo. Some customers exited the bar as well, they left, talking and laughing. Maybe they only went there just to see Eliza's performance or just to have enough drinks to get wasted.
"Finally, I can breathe more comfortably!" Joseph exclaimed, spreading his arms out. Caesar rolled his eyes with a grin. "Even with this stupid mask..." Joseph muttered.
Joseph stepped forward the car but had a hand stopped him as Caesar patted his shoulder. "I'll go get some cola." He leaned over the Englishman's ear. Joseph nodded and proceeded to go inside the car.
Caesar walked five blocks away from the limo and the bar. He searched and searched for a small store. After a short while, he found one. He jogged to it and asked the shopkeeper if they had any cola. Shopkeeper said yes and went searching for one in their fridge.
He pulled his cyan jacket's placket together, shivering with the cold wind entering small gaps of his clothes. He exhaled a visible breath from how cold it was tonight. Although, he knew obviously he wouldn't stay outside for a long time, he was going to get a sweet taste of warmth.
"Here you go." The shopkeeper said behind him, handing a cold cola to him. He spun around and nodded as a thanks. Caesar put out some dollars and the shopkeeper took it.
Caesar used his hands to pull out the cap. The cola fizzled for a bit once the air inside was released. He drank quickly, the sugar ran wild inside his throat, and the sour taste of lemon tensed his inside. It felt fiery for a second. He sighed in relief as soon his taste buds forgot the bitter dry aftertaste of whiskey.
Just as soon as everything felt okay, he glanced across the pavement he stood on. His eyes gawked, his mouth opened wide. Y/n walked forward, wearing a coat and a scarf.
That wasn't the root for Caesar's dismayed look.The real reason was that Y/n wasn't alone, she was with a man he didn't know. And both of them chatted, grinning.
The tall man allowed Y/n to hold onto his arm. He has a strange tattoo painted on his light brown skin, he was wearing a long jet-black coat and a grey scarf. Not that Caesar found this man familiar by what his mind and heart tells him. But because this man was with his Y/n. Caesar had never thought he'd be so jealous just at the sight of them. He's a player so why should he be mad? There a dozen times he tried making her jealous so she could admit that she's in love with him, but now it's Y/n's turn.
And it was working.
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