Mr Thompson's Pub and Cabaret
May 27th
Lady Ellen's ringlet curls popped out through the door of the cabaret, as she leaded against the doorway yet again. She looked impatient, and raised an eyebrow yet again.
"Salut," Brendon said, smiling a little.
"You're late." Her voice was flat, and in all honesty he didn't know that she actually spoke English.
"I...Rodger told me to be here at 7:30 am," Brendon said, and he remembered him saying that specifically.
Lady Ellen looked skeptical. "So it was just me he told to come at 7?" She sighed and then waved him inside, the bottom of her ballet slippers hitting the wooden floor with soft tapping noises. "You can sing now. Congratulations. Voyons voir combien de temps vous la dernière avant Vera vorace."
"I didn't ask for this. I just...I didn't even know I was doing it. It just kind of happened, and then Rodger wanted to talk to me, and one thing led to another and he wanted me to sing the song," Brendon explained, trying to convince anyone he could, because he did not want to get on Vera's bad side.
She glanced over at him. "And I'm sure you totally object to the idea of singing your own song and having people watch you for once rather than Vera."
Brendon shook his head, although he felt that was a lie. "That's not how I am."
She snickered. "You make it seem like I've never been in show business, Brendon."
"Maybe I don't...I don't know, 'desire the spotlight' like everyone else here."
Lady Ellen shook her head and sat down on the stage. "If you didn't desire the spotlight, you wouldn't be here. You want to be seen just like everyone else, and it doesn't bug you that you got that song instead of Vera. You can't walk in here and tell me that you just wanted to be a guitarist, and that you just wanted to be in the background all this time. Those guys in the band? They want to be noticed. They want someone to look away from the dancers every once in a while and look at them. Your friends? They've worked hard all the time they've been here, and don't think I haven't heard them complaining about how Rodger doesn't notice them. And you know why they don't like me? Because I tell them that's life. Because I say that there are going to be people who won't like them as much as someone else. And in a business like this, it's going to happen. Someone's going to play favorites."
Brendon stayed quiet because he knew how right she was on every account, as much as he wished she wasn't. "They told me you used to work with Rodger."
"I did."
"What happened?"
She sighed. "Shouldn't we get to the dancing?"
"What happened?" Brendon repeated.
After a moment of hesitation, she talked. "I met Rodger at a cabaret in New York back in the 80's. He was a bartender singing along to all the songs, I was a hopeful dancer looking for a job. I ordered a drink, started to talk to him, and we discussed our love for all things burlesque. We got to know each other and, well, it turned into love. And rather than proposing marriage, he proposed we move closer to my family in Chicago and start a cabaret, with me as the star dancer. Of course I could never deny him, nor would I have ever wanted to. We had two male dancers, if I recall correctly, and five girls, just like now. And things stayed that way for about five years. Then in the late 90's we got rid of one of the guys and hired Zach, who was very handsome. And things happened between us that I wasn't very proud of. Even while I was with Rodger. So he fired both boys because he didn't want to face what I had done. He kept that up for years, until I couldn't take it anymore. I told him that he couldn't hide what he knew I'd done forever. And I wasn't going to live with myself knowing there could be someone out there that was better for him. I ended it, but we kept the cabaret. Now you know."
He slowly examined her face, imagining what it would have looked like a few years younger. "Why did you speak all in French when I first met you?"
Lady Ellen's lips turned up into a small smile. "It was a test. I minored in French in college."
"And majored in dance?"
"You guessed it. Now let's dance," she said, and he let her change the subject because to this day, there was still a trace of guilt behind Lady Ellen's eyes.
"Salut," Brendon said, smiling a little.
"You're late." Her voice was flat, and in all honesty he didn't know that she actually spoke English.
"I...Rodger told me to be here at 7:30 am," Brendon said, and he remembered him saying that specifically.
Lady Ellen looked skeptical. "So it was just me he told to come at 7?" She sighed and then waved him inside, the bottom of her ballet slippers hitting the wooden floor with soft tapping noises. "You can sing now. Congratulations. Voyons voir combien de temps vous la dernière avant Vera vorace."
"I didn't ask for this. I just...I didn't even know I was doing it. It just kind of happened, and then Rodger wanted to talk to me, and one thing led to another and he wanted me to sing the song," Brendon explained, trying to convince anyone he could, because he did not want to get on Vera's bad side.
She glanced over at him. "And I'm sure you totally object to the idea of singing your own song and having people watch you for once rather than Vera."
Brendon shook his head, although he felt that was a lie. "That's not how I am."
She snickered. "You make it seem like I've never been in show business, Brendon."
"Maybe I don't...I don't know, 'desire the spotlight' like everyone else here."
Lady Ellen shook her head and sat down on the stage. "If you didn't desire the spotlight, you wouldn't be here. You want to be seen just like everyone else, and it doesn't bug you that you got that song instead of Vera. You can't walk in here and tell me that you just wanted to be a guitarist, and that you just wanted to be in the background all this time. Those guys in the band? They want to be noticed. They want someone to look away from the dancers every once in a while and look at them. Your friends? They've worked hard all the time they've been here, and don't think I haven't heard them complaining about how Rodger doesn't notice them. And you know why they don't like me? Because I tell them that's life. Because I say that there are going to be people who won't like them as much as someone else. And in a business like this, it's going to happen. Someone's going to play favorites."
Brendon stayed quiet because he knew how right she was on every account, as much as he wished she wasn't. "They told me you used to work with Rodger."
"I did."
"What happened?"
She sighed. "Shouldn't we get to the dancing?"
"What happened?" Brendon repeated.
After a moment of hesitation, she talked. "I met Rodger at a cabaret in New York back in the 80's. He was a bartender singing along to all the songs, I was a hopeful dancer looking for a job. I ordered a drink, started to talk to him, and we discussed our love for all things burlesque. We got to know each other and, well, it turned into love. And rather than proposing marriage, he proposed we move closer to my family in Chicago and start a cabaret, with me as the star dancer. Of course I could never deny him, nor would I have ever wanted to. We had two male dancers, if I recall correctly, and five girls, just like now. And things stayed that way for about five years. Then in the late 90's we got rid of one of the guys and hired Zach, who was very handsome. And things happened between us that I wasn't very proud of. Even while I was with Rodger. So he fired both boys because he didn't want to face what I had done. He kept that up for years, until I couldn't take it anymore. I told him that he couldn't hide what he knew I'd done forever. And I wasn't going to live with myself knowing there could be someone out there that was better for him. I ended it, but we kept the cabaret. Now you know."
He slowly examined her face, imagining what it would have looked like a few years younger. "Why did you speak all in French when I first met you?"
Lady Ellen's lips turned up into a small smile. "It was a test. I minored in French in college."
"And majored in dance?"
"You guessed it. Now let's dance," she said, and he let her change the subject because to this day, there was still a trace of guilt behind Lady Ellen's eyes.