#Reade is all over the place because they're meant to don't worry. The theater just Does That

[nicolewoo]

Speakeasy Part 1

Pairing: Fergal Devitt X Reader. Finn Balor X Reader

Scenario: Desperate to make enough money to live on during the great depression, Reader gets a job at a Speakeasy, and finds a dangerous ally. Can she trust this man and his stories or should she listen to her friend's advice and steer clear of him?

Warnings: Part 1 has no warnings. Future parts probably will.

The minute I walked in, I could smell it.... the stale smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol were practically oozing out of the walls. This wasn't going to be good for my throat, but then again, this wasn't going to be good for anything except paying bills. It's 1930 and a girl's gotta do what she's gotta do.... especially living alone in Chicago.

I had a job at a diner, but the breakfast tips weren't enough to get by, and I'd been frantically trying to get a job in a proper theater. The problem was that everyone wanted dancers that could sing. I had the singing part down. The dancing? Well, I've got 2 left feet. No matter how many lessons I took, I just couldn't dance. So, here I am, in a speakeasy, getting ready to try out for a bunch of mafia guys, risking getting arrested just so I could pay the bills.

Count your blessings, girl. A lot of people are a lot worse off. I told myself as I remembered leaving Hutchinson Kansas due to The Great Depression. I remembered the sight of homeless families and bread lines and brawls for crumbs. Yes, I was doing something illegal, but I was going to be able to live because of it.

I was shaken out of my thoughts with the sound of a trumpet squeaking out. I knew before I even looked that it was my friend Tony getting my attention. “You made it. You look great, doll.” Tony said coming up to me. “Let me introduce you to the band.” He placed his hand on the small of my back and led me over to the stage.

“Marty,” Tony called out getting the band leader's attention. “This is Y/N, the singer I told you about.”

Marty barely looked up from the sheet music he was reviewing, “Hey. Let's hear those pipes, doll.” He sounded less than enthusiastic. “Guys.” He yelled to the band. “Give me some Mean to Me.”  He motioned me over to the mic.

Ok, well, let's do this. I sidled up to the mic, trying to insert some extra swag into my walk so I'd look more experienced than I was. The music began and I reached up to hold the mic stand as I started to sing.

“You're mean to me. Why must you be mean to me?” Marty looked up with a look of surprise.

“Gee, honey. It seems to me. You love to see me crying.” Tony gave me a big thumbs up to encourage me.

“I don't know why. I stay home. Each night when you say you'll phone.” I started to see the band members nodding and smiling to each other.

“You don't and I'm left alone. Singing the blues and crying.” I saw a couple of men come from the back room to see who was singing, but I couldn't make out their faces in the dark room.

I was ecstatic to see such a great reception, and I was pretty sure I'd gotten the job. As the song swelled to the harder part, I focused on hitting all the right notes and making the song sound as sexy as possible.

I saw one of the men who'd come in from the back signal to Marty, but I didn't know what the signal meant. I peeked at Marty, but I couldn't read his expression. He made me wait until the end of the song.

“Ok, kiddo. You got the gig. We'll see how tonight goes, and if you do well, we'll talk about something permanent.” Marty showed no emotion. I'd gotten the impression that he'd gone through a lot of singers, and didn't expect any better from me. “Guys,” He yelled over the sound of instruments playing different sections of the songs and talking among themselves. “We start a full practice in ½ an hour, so go get some food now. We're gonna be busy tonight.” He dismissed the band with the same lack of emotion as when he'd hired me.

Tony ran to me as excited as me. “You did it, doll!” He hugged me tight. Then started to lead me outside. “Lets get some chow.” He said as he pointed to a diner across the ally from the speakeasy.

As we sat down, I asked, “So, does Marty want me here or what?”

Tony chuckled under his breath, “Oh yeah yeah! He doesn't show emotion,” he explained. “But don't worry. You're in!” He assured me.

“I didn't know what the signal was from the guys in the back.... or even who they were.” I explained.

“Yeah, Hey. So....” Tony paused. “Ya know not to talk about... ya know.”

He didn't finish his thought, but I knew what he meant. Although I'd never spent any time in this seedy underworld, I was no dummy. “Say no more.” I replied.

“Ok. If you have any questions, just come to me, but not at the club.” He assured me. “Just focus on singing and let them do their stuff.” His gaze bored a hole in me, and I nodded in understanding. “Most importantly,” Tony reached over and put his hand on my arm, “DON'T get romantically involved with any one there. Do you understand?”

“You don't have to worry. I know who they are.” I assured him.

Tony was like a big brother to me. He'd been a regular at the diner where I worked; me always starting my day as he was ending his over breakfast. We became great friends, and Tony and his wife had taken me under their wing, inviting me over for dinner, watching out for me. Working at the speakeasy wasn't what Tony and his wife wanted for me, but when I couldn't get a theater job, they had finally given in and got me the audition. Tony had promised his wife that he'd protect me from the going ons of the club.

After dinner, I sat with Marty going over what songs I knew and what songs I needed to get to know in order to keep working there. He was pleasantly surprised at my song knowledge, and we both felt we had enough to put on a good show tonight. It was perfect because Marty had had to sing himself since losing their last singer. We went over the songs with the band until we were comfortable with each other's styles.

Afterward, I practiced in the back, pouring over the pages of sheet music Marty gave me while tinkering the notes out on an old, out-of-tune piano in a side room, hoping to add in some of these songs soon. The closer we got to show time, the more anxious I got. It was more than if I'd be entertaining... I was worried about getting arrested. Tony had assured me that if the cops came in, and I couldn't get away in time, he'd bail me out before morning, but still. A proper girl like me didn't get arrested. What would my parents think if they were alive? I pushed those thoughts out of my head and tried to focus on the music again.

I heard the band start, happy music flooding through the whole building. I peaked out at the crowd and was shocked to see the club almost full already. What surprised me the most was the class of the people in the club. I had expected to see hardened criminals and desolate prostitutes, but instead, the crowd was full of Chicago's best. Ladies in fine dresses with fringes everywhere. Men in tuxedo suits sporting walking sticks and monocles. I glanced at my own aged floor length dress that I'd bought from a theater who was throwing it out, and lamented at the state of it. Would these rich muckedy mucks accept me in this ragged thing? Before looking at them, I thought I'd looked good, but now. Now, I was wracked with every insecurity I'd ever felt.

I saw Tony rise from his seat at the bandstand and come backstage to me. “You ready?” He asked all excited.

“Tony!” I almost started crying. “Those people. They're all so fancy. This dress is so old and ratty.” I started to say, but he placed his hand on my shoulder.

“Doll, the minute you open your mouth, everyone is going to fall in love with you. You've got the voice of an angel. We can buy you more dresses when you get paid. In the meantime, don't worry about it. You look amazing, and the stage lights are going to hide any imperfections in the dress.” He gave me a quick hug as I heard Marty announce me.

“Ladies and gentlemen, We've got a special treat for you this evening.” How the hell did Marty have emotion now? He sounded positively jovial. I guess he was just a good actor. “Tonight, for the first time at Club Red, we are proud to present our new singer, Y/N.”

The crowd responded to Marty's happy announcement with excited applause. Tony took my arm and escorted me out to stage, depositing me in front of the mic before taking his own seat in the horn section.

We started with Ain't Misbehavin', and the crowd went silent as they focused on me. I prayed they were enjoying the performance, and I poured every ounce of energy I could muster into making the song sound sexy. I wasn't sure how I was doing until the song ended, and the crowd went nuts! They were applauding and giving me standing ovations. I even heard some lewd whistles from near the back where the mob guys had been earlier. I was a hit!

When I turned to find out what song we were singing next, Marty smiled warmly at me. “You did great.” He whispered just to me. “Am I Blue” is next.

The music sounded and the crowd quieted as the slow song changed the mood in the room.

“Am I blue? Am I blue? Ain't these tears in my eyes tellin' you.”

Marty whispered over my shoulder, “Go walk through the crowd, engage them.” he encouraged.

“Am I blue?” I slowly left the stage, pleasantly surprised when the spot light followed me with no notice. “You'd be too. If each plan with your man just fell through.” I placed my hand on a lady's shoulder emphasizing the phrase and she reached up to pat my hand in understanding. I wandered to another table. “Was a time. I was his only one.” I crooned to a table of men, and they smiled broadly at me. “Now I'm the sad and lonely one.” I continued to wander through the crowded room, placing my hand on a shoulder here, singing closely into a gentleman's ear there. The crowd was eating it up. “Now he's gone, and we're through. Am I blue?”

My eyes settled on a man at the table next to me in the back of the room. He was quite frankly the most beautiful man I'd ever seen, with a chiseled jaw, perfect black hair, sparkling blue eyes and his black tuxedo, black shirt and white bow tie matched by a white pocket square. He oozed money and sex. Logically, his table should have been the next I visited, but the way he was looking at me... lustfully... deterred me, and I skipped his table. He made no indication that my turn away from his table bothered him, but his eyes didn't leave me for the rest of the song causing butterflies in my stomach. He gazed so intently at me, I felt like he could see through my dress to my naked body.

I managed to gather my wits again as the song ended and I walked back up to the stage. This job was too important to me. It was this or I ended up being the one in the bread lines tomorrow. I couldn't let anyone, not even this wickedly beautiful man, get in the way of me making this money.

I stayed on the stage the rest of the night. I already had the crowd eating out of the palm of my hand, I didn't need to pander to them anymore. At the end of each song, the crowd cheered for me, and I noticed the lone man in the back smile as he gauged the mood of the crowd.

It was late... very late.... and I was tired when the show ended. “Heya doll. How bout I give ya a ride home?” Tony said as I started leaving the club with an extra few bucks in my pocket as the sun peeked over the horizon.

I was so tired, I could barely speak, but I nodded yes to Tony. He was full of energy, praising my performance, telling me how happy he was. Saying he was sure I'd be hired permanently tomorrow. I fell asleep in the gently rocking car, and Tony laughed when he had to wake me up. “Guess you're gonna have to get used to the schedule.” He teased. “Good thing you're not working at the diner this morning.” After I thanked him for the ride, Tony watched until I was safely in my apartment building before heading to the diner to get some breakfast before he went to bed. I didn't care that I was hungry, I took off my dress and fell asleep in my underclothes.

I dreamed of music notes flying through the air, of gathering them in a bag and presenting them on beautiful sheet music to the guests. I dreamed of the smoky bar and the man seated in the back and that he paid me for one of my music sheets, a small contained smile on his lips.

#Fergal Devitt Finn Balor