Mr Thompson's Pub and Cabaret
July 9th
"So what are you doing tonight?" Brendon asked Vera, following her out towards the house of the cabaret.
She stopped walking and spun around on her heels. "Oh, I don't know. We'll have to see, won't we?" she asked, picking up a chair, and passing it to Brendon, who put it on top of the table. There was a small smirk on her face, the kind that seemed almost always present as long as she was inside the cabaret.
At night, when all of the cabaret-goers and gone home, it was up to the dancers and the members of the band to put up chairs and help clean up, since they didn't really have an official janitor. It was closing time, which meant their new position as custodians took place.
Brendon held onto the leg of the chair, which was now pointing up towards the ceiling and held out a had for Vera to take, which she did, and he wrapped his arm around her waist, as if they were going to waltz. "You know, you did-" He was interrupted by the sounds of shouting from outside, and he rolled his eyes.
Every so often, there would be a drunken brawl outside of the pub, due to the people who had just a little too much, and couldn't handle their liquor well. This only happened once in a blue moon, but usually Rodger preferred to take care of the situation because the cabaret wasn't in the best of neighborhoods, and he always was a fatherly figure to all of us, whether you were a favorite or not.
"Rodger!" he called out, giving Vera's waist a small squeeze.
Rodger's head popped out from behind the curtain, and it looked like he was going to ask what i needed, but then he heard all the commotion from outside and sighed. "I'll be right back," he muttered, before pushing open the door and disappearing.
"Now, where were we?" Brendon asked, turning his attention back towards Vera, where they began to twirl around and dance, him quietly singing the words to 'Blue Skies.' "Blue skies, smiling at me, nothing but blue skies, do I see..." His grin grew when he heard Vera's voice combining with his, and the only thing he could think about was the fact that yes, Rodger had been so right when he said the two of them should have considered a duet. It could have been because he was slightly biased and was never tired of hearing the sound of her voice, whether it be singing or talking, because the sounds that came from her mouth never ceased to amaze him.
She pressed her face close to his, her cheek resting against his and then he felt her lips brush up against his, and he smiled. "So, what were you saying about what you were doing tonight?" he muttered before kissing her more firmly.
She was about to reply, when she was cut off by the sound of a shot, echoing throughout the whole cabaret. Vera jumped, and Brendon wrapped his arms around her tightly, making sure she didn't move a muscle.
Lady Ellen appeared from behind the curtain, her bouncy black curls seemed more wild and untamed than usual. "Everyone stay inside," she told the audience, all of whom were looking anxiously at the door. Everything had grown quiet, except for the clicking of Lady Ellen's heels as she walked out of the building.
All of them glanced at each other, and Brendon's grip around Vera seemed to grow more and more secure with each movement everyone made. The thing that seemed most frightening was the fact that Rodger still hadn't come outside.
After what seemed of hours and hours of no real results, there was a scream from outside, and Brendon broke away from Vera and sprinted outside, because that had to have been Lady Ellen, and he wasn't going to just sit back and let whatever was happening, happen. She was practically the closest thing to a mother he had in Chicago. Without even thinking, without even realizing what he was doing, Brendon ran to her side, because she was hunched over something. Someone.
A body.
He squatted down next to her, a hand on her shoulder. He could hear the door opening slowly behind him, but no one else said a word, because up close, Brendon could hear Lady Ellen's sobs. He could feel her shoulders shaking, and see the tears streaking down her cheeks.
What was worse was the fact that Brendon was face-to-face with the lifeless body of Mr. Thompson.
"Well don't just stand there, someone call an ambulance!" Lady Ellen yelled desperately, pushing Brendon's hand off her shoulder, although she, like everyone else, knew it was too late.
Genevieve grabbed a cell phone and dialed for an ambulance, and Brendon stood up and walked towards Vera, who buried her face in his chest and wrapped her arms around his torso, and he could feel the front of his shirt growing damp.
Everyone wanted to do something to help, but at this point, there was a doomed feeling over all of them that there wasn't anything they could do.
After a few minutes of Lady Ellen still knelt over Rodger, the sounds of sirens were heard off in the distance and eventually pulled up to the curb. Two paramedics put him on top of a stretcher, while another one was talking to Lady Ellen about what had happened, where she tried to describe the scene as best as she could. She got into the back of the ambulance, with one last desperate look at the rest of them, before they closed the doors and wove around the corner closer to the hospital.
"Brendon." He could hear Vera's voice shaking, and he gave her a tight squeeze, running his hand through her soft waves as soothingly as he could.
"It's going to be okay," he whispered, although his heart was sinking inside his chest, because he knew, just like the rest of them, that it wouldn't be.
It was like loosing your father, to all of them. And he could imagine, especially to Vera.
She stopped walking and spun around on her heels. "Oh, I don't know. We'll have to see, won't we?" she asked, picking up a chair, and passing it to Brendon, who put it on top of the table. There was a small smirk on her face, the kind that seemed almost always present as long as she was inside the cabaret.
At night, when all of the cabaret-goers and gone home, it was up to the dancers and the members of the band to put up chairs and help clean up, since they didn't really have an official janitor. It was closing time, which meant their new position as custodians took place.
Brendon held onto the leg of the chair, which was now pointing up towards the ceiling and held out a had for Vera to take, which she did, and he wrapped his arm around her waist, as if they were going to waltz. "You know, you did-" He was interrupted by the sounds of shouting from outside, and he rolled his eyes.
Every so often, there would be a drunken brawl outside of the pub, due to the people who had just a little too much, and couldn't handle their liquor well. This only happened once in a blue moon, but usually Rodger preferred to take care of the situation because the cabaret wasn't in the best of neighborhoods, and he always was a fatherly figure to all of us, whether you were a favorite or not.
"Rodger!" he called out, giving Vera's waist a small squeeze.
Rodger's head popped out from behind the curtain, and it looked like he was going to ask what i needed, but then he heard all the commotion from outside and sighed. "I'll be right back," he muttered, before pushing open the door and disappearing.
"Now, where were we?" Brendon asked, turning his attention back towards Vera, where they began to twirl around and dance, him quietly singing the words to 'Blue Skies.' "Blue skies, smiling at me, nothing but blue skies, do I see..." His grin grew when he heard Vera's voice combining with his, and the only thing he could think about was the fact that yes, Rodger had been so right when he said the two of them should have considered a duet. It could have been because he was slightly biased and was never tired of hearing the sound of her voice, whether it be singing or talking, because the sounds that came from her mouth never ceased to amaze him.
She pressed her face close to his, her cheek resting against his and then he felt her lips brush up against his, and he smiled. "So, what were you saying about what you were doing tonight?" he muttered before kissing her more firmly.
She was about to reply, when she was cut off by the sound of a shot, echoing throughout the whole cabaret. Vera jumped, and Brendon wrapped his arms around her tightly, making sure she didn't move a muscle.
Lady Ellen appeared from behind the curtain, her bouncy black curls seemed more wild and untamed than usual. "Everyone stay inside," she told the audience, all of whom were looking anxiously at the door. Everything had grown quiet, except for the clicking of Lady Ellen's heels as she walked out of the building.
All of them glanced at each other, and Brendon's grip around Vera seemed to grow more and more secure with each movement everyone made. The thing that seemed most frightening was the fact that Rodger still hadn't come outside.
After what seemed of hours and hours of no real results, there was a scream from outside, and Brendon broke away from Vera and sprinted outside, because that had to have been Lady Ellen, and he wasn't going to just sit back and let whatever was happening, happen. She was practically the closest thing to a mother he had in Chicago. Without even thinking, without even realizing what he was doing, Brendon ran to her side, because she was hunched over something. Someone.
A body.
He squatted down next to her, a hand on her shoulder. He could hear the door opening slowly behind him, but no one else said a word, because up close, Brendon could hear Lady Ellen's sobs. He could feel her shoulders shaking, and see the tears streaking down her cheeks.
What was worse was the fact that Brendon was face-to-face with the lifeless body of Mr. Thompson.
"Well don't just stand there, someone call an ambulance!" Lady Ellen yelled desperately, pushing Brendon's hand off her shoulder, although she, like everyone else, knew it was too late.
Genevieve grabbed a cell phone and dialed for an ambulance, and Brendon stood up and walked towards Vera, who buried her face in his chest and wrapped her arms around his torso, and he could feel the front of his shirt growing damp.
Everyone wanted to do something to help, but at this point, there was a doomed feeling over all of them that there wasn't anything they could do.
After a few minutes of Lady Ellen still knelt over Rodger, the sounds of sirens were heard off in the distance and eventually pulled up to the curb. Two paramedics put him on top of a stretcher, while another one was talking to Lady Ellen about what had happened, where she tried to describe the scene as best as she could. She got into the back of the ambulance, with one last desperate look at the rest of them, before they closed the doors and wove around the corner closer to the hospital.
"Brendon." He could hear Vera's voice shaking, and he gave her a tight squeeze, running his hand through her soft waves as soothingly as he could.
"It's going to be okay," he whispered, although his heart was sinking inside his chest, because he knew, just like the rest of them, that it wouldn't be.
It was like loosing your father, to all of them. And he could imagine, especially to Vera.