Rouge: Intro
Author's Note: For salateern and tofucakes...and whoever felt there was a lack of WooVic fic. :) This is a bit of a project piece, with a SHORT into, so it'll meander a bit. I don't even know what I'm talking about, but everyone here knows I'm all over the place with plots. Read on if you're interested! Inspired by Shirley Bassey's "Diamonds are Forever."
“Mademoiselle?”
The woman whipped her head around toward the young waiter. She was sitting in a quiet bistro of a French restaurant in the early evening, enjoying the dusky sunlight that settled on her skin. Quietly finishing her lone meal, she’d expected him to be at her side with the bill. So it was with much surprise that he was at her side, apron on and bow-tie around his ill-fitting white collar, with two choices of wine: one white, one red.
“I never asked for wine,” she replied. Delicate lines etched their way onto her perplexed face.
“It is compliments of a young gentleman. He also offered to pay for your meal, so there is no charge. All he asks for is a name.”
She looked around but caught two other sets of eyes, one from an old man walking by, who promptly turned his eyes back to the street when the woman holding his arm lightly smacked his shoulder, and the other from a child, no older than three, smiling at her from a stroller. What a peculiar man if he didn’t want to make himself known to her.
“Who is he?” she questioned.
“He wished to remain a quiet admirer at the moment. He just wanted to put a name to, as he told me to repeat, such a rare jewel of a face.”
She chuckled to herself and blushed at the ridiculous line this mystery man was giving her, but pointed to the red wine before he poured her a full glass. She grabbed the glass and held it gently by her lips.
“Victoria.”
She took a sip and set it down, smiling at the man’s kind face.
“Yes. Thank you.”
The waiter tipped his head politely and left the rest of the bottle on the table as he walked away, his wispy, light hair rarely moving from the sculpted position on his head. When he was back in the kitchens, he quickly passed the chefs and began taking off his black bow-tie. He walked to the back, toward a large pantry where a man lay passed out next to a duffle bag. The waiter checked the other man’s breathing and pulse, and began to disrobe, taking off his waiting attire. He pulled open the duffle and shook out white slacks, sandals and a loosely-fitted, pale blue shirt. He dug further into the large bag and pulled out a pair of sunglasses and a wallet. From the wallet, he finally pulled a wad of bills and threw them on the man lying on the ground.
“Thanks,” he said. His accent had suddenly changed.
He walked out with the remnants of his things and the large duffle, tinkling to only the most attentive listener. Pulling a phone from his wallet, he opened up his cell phone and called a discreet number. Among the shops, bustle of people and noises that grew with each step he took into the city, he was a chameleon in the throng of travellers with all of their bags. A few more stamps of his feet and the line picked up.
“I got a match on the face and name,” he said into the phone as he continued to follow the beautiful woman. “Get me some more details on her though. I need names of friends, things she likes to do. If she likes a certain type of car, shoe, sock…I want to know. …she’ll be alone soon. I know what to do, but I’ll connect with you later.”
“Well,” the other side replied, “…she likes diamonds.”
“Who doesn’t?” he questioned with a laugh.
The phone was hung up and the man composed himself. Known as Wooyoung to his confidantes but many names to others, he silently followed Victoria until she reached a grandiose hotel.
“Yup. Loaded,” he said matter-of-factly.
He watched her enter and set the sunglasses on his face before he walked in to check-in.
“Mademoiselle?”
The woman whipped her head around toward the young waiter. She was sitting in a quiet bistro of a French restaurant in the early evening, enjoying the dusky sunlight that settled on her skin. Quietly finishing her lone meal, she’d expected him to be at her side with the bill. So it was with much surprise that he was at her side, apron on and bow-tie around his ill-fitting white collar, with two choices of wine: one white, one red.
“I never asked for wine,” she replied. Delicate lines etched their way onto her perplexed face.
“It is compliments of a young gentleman. He also offered to pay for your meal, so there is no charge. All he asks for is a name.”
She looked around but caught two other sets of eyes, one from an old man walking by, who promptly turned his eyes back to the street when the woman holding his arm lightly smacked his shoulder, and the other from a child, no older than three, smiling at her from a stroller. What a peculiar man if he didn’t want to make himself known to her.
“Who is he?” she questioned.
“He wished to remain a quiet admirer at the moment. He just wanted to put a name to, as he told me to repeat, such a rare jewel of a face.”
She chuckled to herself and blushed at the ridiculous line this mystery man was giving her, but pointed to the red wine before he poured her a full glass. She grabbed the glass and held it gently by her lips.
“Victoria.”
She took a sip and set it down, smiling at the man’s kind face.
“Yes. Thank you.”
The waiter tipped his head politely and left the rest of the bottle on the table as he walked away, his wispy, light hair rarely moving from the sculpted position on his head. When he was back in the kitchens, he quickly passed the chefs and began taking off his black bow-tie. He walked to the back, toward a large pantry where a man lay passed out next to a duffle bag. The waiter checked the other man’s breathing and pulse, and began to disrobe, taking off his waiting attire. He pulled open the duffle and shook out white slacks, sandals and a loosely-fitted, pale blue shirt. He dug further into the large bag and pulled out a pair of sunglasses and a wallet. From the wallet, he finally pulled a wad of bills and threw them on the man lying on the ground.
“Thanks,” he said. His accent had suddenly changed.
He walked out with the remnants of his things and the large duffle, tinkling to only the most attentive listener. Pulling a phone from his wallet, he opened up his cell phone and called a discreet number. Among the shops, bustle of people and noises that grew with each step he took into the city, he was a chameleon in the throng of travellers with all of their bags. A few more stamps of his feet and the line picked up.
“I got a match on the face and name,” he said into the phone as he continued to follow the beautiful woman. “Get me some more details on her though. I need names of friends, things she likes to do. If she likes a certain type of car, shoe, sock…I want to know. …she’ll be alone soon. I know what to do, but I’ll connect with you later.”
“Well,” the other side replied, “…she likes diamonds.”
“Who doesn’t?” he questioned with a laugh.
The phone was hung up and the man composed himself. Known as Wooyoung to his confidantes but many names to others, he silently followed Victoria until she reached a grandiose hotel.
“Yup. Loaded,” he said matter-of-factly.
He watched her enter and set the sunglasses on his face before he walked in to check-in.