Chapter 37 – Red Lips

“……”

“Um. I came here yesterday, too, don’t you remember? There’s a stage over there, but no one was singing……”

“……”

“If there’s no scheduled singer, can I sing a song? I don’t need to be paid.”

“……”

“……Just let me try once.”

Why isn’t he saying anything? The pub owner looked terrifying. But there’s a saying that silence means consent, so I forced a smile and walked towards the stage. There were a few customers in the pub, but none of them looked like they could afford to give me a tip. But today, my goal was to secure a stage, not to earn money right away.

I got up on the platform and sang “My Love,” a song that had been quite popular for some time. When the song ended, there wasn’t even a hint of applause, not a single reaction. Feeling disheartened, I looked at the pub owner and pleaded.

“Can I sing just one more song?”

Then, gathering my courage, I asked the customers.

“Is there any song you would like to hear?”

Again, no one responded. I started to feel even more nervous, my heart pounding heavily. No, calm down. By now, I had a rough idea of how much my heart had to race for people around me to react. If it was like this, then someone—whether they were a wizard or just someone sensitive to magic—would definitely notice.

As expected, the pub owner, who looked like he had been a mercenary in the past, started glaring at me. He was clearly annoyed by the way my magic made his heart race. I was just about to give up and step down when—

“Hey, miss, these folks here don’t know such refined songs.”

It was one of the customers sitting closest to me.

“Then what kind of songs would they like?”

“Don’t you know any popular songs?”

“Well……”

What kind of song would these customers know? I only knew a few lullabies from this world, but I doubt they’d want to hear those in a pub. After hesitating for a moment, I decided to take a risk.

“I don’t know any songs you might know, but I do know some that I doubt anyone has ever heard before.”

Long story short, it was a hit. When I sang a few pop songs from my past life, the initially unresponsive customers gradually started listening more closely. By the end, even people passing by stopped to peek into the pub. That night, I secured a stage. A few days later, I spoke to Bill, the pub owner.

“Mr. Bill, I’m thinking of wearing a mask.”

“Why?”

“I want to go with a mysterious concept.”

“Do whatever you want.”

The truth was, I was afraid of being mistaken for a real witch because I’d heard too many times that my voice sounded like a princess but my face looked like a witch.

If the Imperial Wizard came looking to investigate the rumors, it would only be a matter of time before they discovered I was Olivia Keppel. Plus, I had come to realize that showmanship was key to attracting more customers, so I celebrated my steady income by buying a guitar and some stage outfits.

Wearing a black sheath dress that, though unadorned, highlighted my silhouette and a white butterfly mask, I looked quite convincing.

Since I couldn’t afford expensive cosmetics, I bought some red rouge and applied it heavily to my lips. The contrast of red lips against the white mask, combined with my rare bobbed hair, made me stand out immediately.

In this world, there were women who cut their hair to sell it, but almost none who flaunted it so boldly. I had been covering my hair with a scarf to avoid drawing attention, but on stage, making a strong impression was crucial.

“Isn’t that a bit too much?”

“You don’t get it. If you’re going to stand out, you have to really stand out.”

“I’m worried you’ll attract weirdos.”

“That’s what you’re here for.”

The mysterious concept was a huge success. As people became more curious about me, the pub’s fame also began to grow. More well-dressed customers started showing up than before. Sometimes, there were customers who reacted to my magic, but instead of seeing me as a strange woman to be feared, they now regarded me as an enchanting singer.

As things progressed, I started getting ambitious about my music, so I tried my hand at writing and composing songs. Out of all the songs I wrote, the most popular one was “The Last Song.” I sang it every night as my final piece, and it became my signature song, loved by many despite its calm melody.

“So, this will be my last song for tonight.”

Everyone held their breath. I smiled. I loved this moment—the moment when everyone was focused on me. At this moment, it felt like everyone here truly recognized me.

~~Hey, you there,
Why don’t you sit for a while?
Listen to my song.
My last song.~~

The customers might think this is just the last song for tonight, but in truth, it’s my nightly farewell to them.

~~How was your day?
Too tired to talk about it?”
Then listen to my song,
Just sit there, that’s all.~~

In a way, I was using my songs to prepare myself for the day I might have to leave.

~~I hope you had a rough day,
So that when your breath feels heavy,
And the alcohol tastes sweet,
This song will taste sweet too.~~

The customers at Red Pub were mostly weary souls, people who trudged through each day. At first, I thought I needed to sing songs that could grab their attention, songs that could comfort their tired hearts.

~~I hope your day was lonely,
That in the midst of the crowd,
You felt an emptiness,
So this song can fill it.~~

But now, they were my comfort. This stage, this place where I could make a living on my own, gave me hope.

~~Like an indelible scar,
Engrave this in your heart.
Even after the stage is over,
Remember this song.~~

So at least for now, I hope to be their solace at the end of a long day, because tomorrow, another tedious day will begin.

~~Hey, you there,
Are you still listening?
Remember my song,
My last song.~~

As always, I ignored the calls for an encore and headed straight to the kitchen as soon as the final note was sung. I had to get home early, so I had no choice.

Bill followed closely behind, almost like he was guarding me. Since I never took tips directly and told people to leave them at the counter, many assumed that I was Bill’s girlfriend. It was intentional. Bill’s intimidating appearance deterred anyone from trying to get too close to me.

I went up the stairs connected to the back of the kitchen, wiped off the red lipstick, and changed out of my stage clothes. After covering my hair with a scarf and dressing in my usual plain clothes, I came back downstairs. Bill, waiting in the kitchen, let out a sigh and said,

“How about hiring a bodyguard? You’ve been earning a lot of money.”

“Then there wouldn’t be much left.”

Bill kept a separate ledger for all the tips that came in. Originally, I was getting paid daily, but I got anxious about carrying too much cash and asked him to hold onto it for me. Honestly, I thought he might take a commission from the tips, but it didn’t seem like he did.

“Then let me walk you home.”

“Everyone already thinks I’m your girlfriend and that I live here. Imagine the rumors if you start walking someone home every night. It would be even more dangerous.”

Bill put on a concerned expression.

“Then just quit. There are plenty of bigger places asking for you. Find another pub. The security in this alley isn’t great.”

I knew that beneath Bill’s gruff exterior was a genuinely kind-hearted man who thought of me as a daughter. The fact that he hired a kitchen assistant so I wouldn’t have to leave alone after work, even when he was busy, was all because he was worried about my safety. I smiled and teased him,

“Mr. Bill, are you sure you haven’t actually fallen for me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I have a daughter your age.”

I was genuinely shocked. I knew he treated me like a daughter, but I didn’t know he actually had one.

“Really? Where is she?”

“……She died during the war.”

Oh no. I immediately regretted asking.

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

“Go on, get out of here.”

Bill waved me off as if he didn’t want to dwell on it. I bowed my head in apology and left through the back door with Greta, the kitchen assistant. Greta, who was around my age, was also someone Bill treated like a daughter, being an old comrade from his mercenary days. I had thought it strange how Bill was particularly gentle with young women like us, but now I understood the reason behind it.

“Anne, Bill’s right. You should be performing on a bigger stage.”

“But I like it here.”

“You’ve outgrown this place. It’s strange that ‘Red Lips’ is still singing in such an old pub.”

“‘Red Lips’? What’s that?”

“You didn’t know? That’s what people call you.”

I was surprised by the strange nickname. What? How tacky.

“If you don’t like it, maybe try wearing a different color.”

“I can’t afford that.”

“With all the money you’ve made… Anyway, if you work at a bigger place, you’ll be safer, and you could sing later into the night. A lot of customers complain that you finish your performances too early.”

I hadn’t expected to become so popular so quickly. I knew that the peak time for nightlife was usually from midnight to 2 a.m., but I always finished my performances in the evening and went home early. After midnight, the streetlights went out, and the crime rate spiked. However, I wasn’t interested in hiring a bodyguard and turning into a full-time singer. I planned to leave the capital once spring arrived.

“You’d save up faster working at a bigger venue. If you performed in a place where nobles frequent, you could buy a house in a few years. Then you could become a citizen.”

“What’s so great about becoming a citizen?”

“What’s so great? The line of men wanting to marry you would stretch down this alley!”

Greta said this in a teasing tone. I chuckled and replied,

“But I’m already married.”

“What?”

Greta’s eyes widened in shock. In the three months we’d known each other, I had never shared anything personal. Actually, I hadn’t shared with anyone.

“So… you ran away?”

Now it was my turn to be surprised. How did she know?