Music, My Magic - a musician au arcana x reader [PROLOGUE]

I

A stirring beside me slowly awakens me. I have my arms wrapped around something, and it's moving. I open my eyes to see a mop of white, fluffy hair tucked between my shoulder and neck. It's my roommate, best friend, and teacher, Asra. his bedhead is sticking up in several places and he's breathing deeply. I stroke his hair, and he smiles and snuggles farther into me.

"That feels good," he mutters, then sighs. I don't feel my bedsheets, and when I look around I realize that we're laying on the upstairs couch. I remember what we're doing there now. There was a storm last night, and the thunder got too loud. I was so spooked that I asked him to stay with me while we read on the sofa. I guess we fell asleep. Asra sits up, prying himself from my arms and propping himself up on his elbows. He yawns a rubs his eyes a little. I can't help but blush a bit.

"Good morning, scaredy-cat," he smiles again. I smile back.

"Hi," hearing my voice for the first time every morning sounds weird.

"Hello," he chuckles. With anyone else, this would be awkward, but not with Asra.

"So," he sits up fully, "breakfast?" He asks. "Pancakes," I smile devilishly. "I knew you would say that," he pulls the covers back, stretches, and scampers off downstairs to the kitchen. I get up and follow him, adjusting my sweatshirt and shorts along the way. I'm not wearing socks or slippers, and the hardwood floor is cold, like it usually is in January.

When I poke my head into the kitchen, Asra is already pulling down a pan, bowls, and spatulas. "Are we doing this from scratch, or from a mix?", he turns to me. Today is our off day. Two weeks ago, Asra planned to get his manager to let him off the hook for today, my off day, so we could hang out . We don't really have anything planned other than a relaxing day at home, so I tell him we'll make it from scratch. Asra is scatterbrained, and clumsy when it comes to cooking, so he's not the best chef. I don't have much more experience than him , especially because I work as a host at a restaurant, so our pancakes turn out to be slightly charred. At least the coffee turned out okay.

When we sit down at the table, I feel a smooth, scaley coil slithering up my leg. It's Faust, Asra's pet snake and familiar. She looks up at me with her wide red eyes, and I know what she wants.

Bacon! She tells me excitedly. I slide her half of one of my strips of bacon off of my plate. I've been talking like this with her for about a year now. Asra says he's always been able to do it, and he's had faust for about five years I think now. He's known me for nine. I'm twenty now, and he's twenty-one.

Asra's taught me most of what I know about music and playing. When I learned how to read sheet music when I was eleven, he taught me how to sight read well and play the guitar. He always says that he doesn't like it when I call him my teacher, but he was the one who taught me most of what I know about music, and magick, too. He's helped me grow in my practice and knows me better than anyone.

His voice startles me a bit. "What are you thinking about?" I look towards him, and he's smiling at me. "Oh, nothing," I brush it off. Asra shrugs, and changes the subject.

"Hey, have you checked the view count on your new song?"

"Nope," I answer. I haven't. I uploaded a new little ditty I did to youtube about two weeks ago and I haven't bothered to check my notifications since. I've left all of them muted after I uploaded it. I know it's not going to be seen by a lot of people, so why bother checking? Asra asks all the time if I want him to tell his fans about me, to promote me, and get my name out there, but I always refuse. I don't want to ask favors from him or make it seem like I'm using him. He's my best friend, and friends shouldn't have a back-and-forth favor and repayment dynamic. Those aren't friends.

I see now that Asra has his phone out, probably checking his instagram. I look back down at Faust, who's sitting in the chair next to me, curled up in a ball. I lean down to scratch her chin. She seems content.

The sound of a fork dropping startles the both of us, and we both look back over at Asra. "Holy shit..." I hear him frantically tapping on his screen before my song starts playing from the phone speakers. He has a look of shock on his face. Why did he pull up the video?

"Asra, what's wrong?" I hesitantly ask him. Do I really want to know?

"Nothing," he whispers, "absolutely nothing is wrong." His surprised expression shifts into a wide, genuine smile. "Y/n..."

He sets his phone down and gets up out of his chair, rushing over to my side of the table hug me. "Asra, what's happening? I'm confused,".

"I am just so incredibly proud of you! Not that I wasn't before, but I'm twice as proud now, and that's a lot," he's rambling and he looks like he's nearly on the verge of tears, but he's smiling big. My head whirls around to look at his phone that's still playing my video. I snatch the phone off of the table, and my eyes grow as big as dinner plates.

2.3 million views. 159k likes. Holy shit indeed.

"No way. This is a joke. You're messing with me, right?" I laugh, but Asra doesn't return it. He's serious.