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cillianmesoftlyyy · 9 months

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At the Cabaret Pt. 1 | Tommy Shelby x fem!character

Summary: Lenore is a dancer at the Birmingham Cabaret when she's approached by an estranged neighbor and notorious gangster, Tommy Shelby, with a business prospect. Seeing him again brings up old feelings and new conflicts that they must navigate in the topsy turvy world of Cabaret.

Warnings: Heavy misogyny (1920s Cabaret... I mean), mentions of sexual assault, and objectification. Please don't read if these topics are upsetting to you- I'm writing from a historical perspective and some of the elements I write about are disturbing. Take care while reading. This story only gets worse from here lol. I use a few modern songs in the story but imagine them in a 1920s style (aka Post Modern Jukebox). I really recommend listening to the songs I have listed below because I reference them in the story.

word count: 4125k

Come with me- Preservation Hall Jazz Band 🎶

Ain't That a Grand and Glorious Feeling? - Annette Hanshaw 🎵

Last Nite- The Strokes 🎶

PDA- Interpol 🎵

Not proofed- my b folks!

She felt powerful when she stepped on stage. She felt untouchable. She performed five days a week at Birmingham’s Cabaret Club during the late night slot when the wealthiest clientele slipped in through the backdoor to huddle around the stage. She was lucky that her life had ended up like this and not working the streets like so many girls she knew had to after the war years. She tried to get them jobs in the Cabaret but their addictions to uppers and downers and strong cocktails made it hard for them to follow the routine of Cabaret. It required discipline to arrive at the club everyday at three in the afternoon and work new routines until the doors opened at eight, and they worked hard. She wasn’t an especially good dancer but her energy and confidence on stage won her the best slot of the night and the notoriety that nicknamed her “Lady Lenore.”

Her shows were sensual, sure, but mainly they were performances. She sang and sparkled onstage with her elaborate costumes. And sure, men often followed her backstage, seeking an encore in not so polite terms but she was the master of her own image. She was allowed to say no when she wanted to because she was “Lady Lenore.” She wasn’t a stranger to male guests coming by to visit her at night and many times, she allowed them to join her in her dressing room shared with the other performers, offering him whisky and resting her feathered head against his chest. But these were the boys she recognized from the factories her father had worked in, that her brothers had worked in before the war. She flirted with the rich cats who came by to seduce her but only the boys with coal grease still stuck in the curves of their muscles made it farther into the reaches of her corseted costume. She had a preference and she didn’t care who knew it.

What won her fame, besides her voice, were her costumes. The early twenties offered an exciting new spread of style that she latched onto like Vicodin. She loved red, so she dyed most of her costumes a deep scarlet with millions of beads sewn onto the surface. She pulled on the red bodysuit, fixing the ropes of red beads draped around her shoulders and bare thighs. She didn’t have large breasts so the front stuck tightly to her chest but elegant bodice distracted disappointed eyes. Her blonde hair was bobbed around her heart-shaped face. Lucy, one of her friends, secured the devil cap on her head, the strap going beneath her chin. The horns were stuffed with couch stuffing to stand up straight. She under-drew her lips, creating a heart with red lipstick. The rest of her makeup was minimal, making the lipstick stand out. She buckled her nude-colored dancing heels across the top of her foot and shook out her arms nervously.

She could hear the announcer out on stage with his squeaky voice. She pulled on her red satin gloves and made her way slowly to the curtains offstage waiting for her cue. Johnny the club manager squealed, “and now, the girl you’ve been waiting for, the queen of our hearts and the sweetheart of Birmingham, Lady Lenore!” He ran off stage and a spot opened against the curtain.

She lifted her lips into an innocent smile and stuck her arm out through the slit in the red velvet curtain. She trailed her finger down the fabric, teasing the slit beneath the hot spotlight. The audience cheered loudly, feet stomping on the bar floor.

“Aw come on out, darlin!” A man hollered from the audience and she laughed quietly behind the heavy fabric. Whistles followed his brave shout and she shook her finger naughtily at them, still obscured by the curtain.

“Now, now boys. That’s no way to ask a lady. I was gonna be real nice to you tonight, and I mean real nice.” The men whistled again and slammed their hands on the drinking tables.

“Please, honey!”

“Come on, love!”

She slipped her arms back behind the curtain and giggled.

“Oh, boys! You really do know how to make a girl feel so good!” She squealed, “open the curtain, Johnny!”

The curtain swung open on its tracks and she placed her hands on her accented hips. Her bare thighs warmed under the hot spot. She switched into her Lady Lenore facade, apologizing raspily, “sorry about that boys, I was a bit nervous.”

Men howled in the audience and stood to whistle. She put a dramatic finger to her lips, biting it gently.

“Gee, thanks. Now let me show you what I can really do.” She chuckled darkly and nodded to the band beside the stage. “Hit it, honey.” She called with a smile. A ragtime track began and she twirled, pulling the hair from her shoulders to show off the back of the costume, her butt just peeking out beneath the underwear-like bodice. She strutted across the stage with a flick of her leg, turning into a jumpy great-vine, tap dancing without the loud clacks. She reached out her gloved hand to the audience and gasped when the music jumped, smirking as she took quick steps backwards. She did the same to the otherside, each action dominated by the sexual squeal of the trumpet. She took slow steps downstage to the drum beat and lowered herself slowly to her knees, playing with her long strand of pearls.

“I just feel so good tonight,” she bit her lip and shook her shoulders and lay back, still on her knees, her sparkly crotch exposed to the roar of the crowd. When a man wolf-whistled she sat back up quickly, an innocent smile pulling at her painted lips. “Oops!” She giggled and crawled forward on her hands and knees. She reached the end of the stage and swung her legs over gracefully. She went over to the fat cat at the first table and stroked his long white beard.

“Say, you look like a good boy,” She purred and sat abruptly on his lap, “now what do you want for Christmas? Or more importantly what do I want?” She pouted out her lip, thinking. The men in the audience laughed.

“Anything you’d like sweetheart.” The man chuckled and she smiled.

“Ohh, Daddy! That’s exactly what I wanted to hear! But say, aren’t you gonna ask me if I’ve been a good girl?”

“Well, have you?”

“Hmm, one second, Daddy,” She stood up from his lap and cleared her throat loudly. “Do you boys think I've been a good girl?” She asked the room and smiled when she received stomps and applause. “And do you think I should get anything I want?” She added, biting her lip.

“You’re all I want, love!” One man yelled from the bar and she clutched her heart.

“That’s the right answer, boy!” She called back and laughed, returning to the lit stage. A microphone had been set up centerstage while she was in the audience. She shimmied up to the microphone.

“Y’all ever been to New Orleans?” She quipped in her best southern accent and winked at the band who burst into, “Come with Me.”

A line of feathered dancers came out onto stage, flirting with the audience with their scandalous dance fan dance.

Come with me to New Orleans

I'll show you a great time

All your dreams will come true

A' With me by your side

Her raspy voice echoed out into the small club. She scanned the crowd, her fingers cupping the wide microphone. The men in the crowd smoked cigarettes and cigars, separating them by class and income. The day-laborers sat with crushed cigarettes in ashtrays while the fat cats still smoked the same cigar they had light when the night began.

Come with me to the' New Orleans

I'll show you a great time

All your dreams will come true

A' With me by your side

She smiled as she sang, looking down at the audience through her eyelashes. She adjusted her red velvet garter, her fingers trailing up the fabric on her crotch to her stomach. The dancers behind her dipped their fans to show their cleavage.

Come with me to New Orleans

I'll show you a great time

All your dreams will come true

A' With me by your side

She finished the song with a low voice and the audience roared once again. She took an extra fan from one of the dancers and held it in front of her body. With the large fan, she did look naked, tricking those who were drunk in the audience to believe she was nude like a game of peek-a-boo. “Ain't that Grand and Glorious” marked the beginning of a new musical number and she started singing, traveling to either end of the stage. She moved her fan to her back like a peacock, pushing what cleavage she did have forward with her arms.

Now is there any one present

Who was ever in love

If it’s so you know how

I’m feeling right now

Everything is so pleasant

She broke out into a brief timestep combination and moved the fan to her chest, just showing her legs and face.

You’re so full of bliss

You just feel like knocking wood

She planted and shook her hips to the knocking noise.

And when you naturally say yes

Ain’t that a grand and glorious feeling!

She spun around and planted the fan on the top of her butt, bending over to show off her ass to the audience who cheered. She spun again and did a quick Cincinnati step during the instrumental break.

I’ve got something to say

When that band starts to play

She raised the fan above her head, showing off her costume once again, as everyone in the room sang the last line with her:

I get a grand and glorious feeling

“That’s all!” She smiled and the spot went out. She hurried off-stage with the others and ducked into her dressing room, returning hugs and hollow laughs with the other girls.

“You were wonderful, Nore!” A dancer hugged her around her stiff waist and she let out a repressed breath.

“Thank you, thank you. Gee, I’m happy it's over with. Father Christmas in the front row got a little too excited if you know what I mean.” She rolled her eyes and the girls laughed. Clara patted her on the back and slipped through the dressing room door to go on with the following act.

“Break a leg, Clara babes!” She teased warmly and she tittered her thanks. They could hear the crowd grow impatient as they waited for the next round of entertainment. She sat down at her place at the makeup counter and removed the horned cap from her head. Lucy slipped into the dressing room, closing it quietly behind her so the sound wouldn’t carry onstage.

“Nore, great job as always.” She sat beside her and intertwined her fingers with Nore’s. The dancers switched their tops and bottoms, each barely covering anything of their anatomy.

“Thanks, Luce.” She wiggled in her seat and slid the large rings off her fingers and put them in her pink jewelry box.

“Johnny wanted me to tell you that there’s a fella in the audience that wants to see you.” Lucy grimaced.

“I have another show tonight, I can’t.” She sighed and fixed her lipstick.

“He said it’s important.”

“He always says that.” She laughed curtly.

“Sure but I think he means it this time, Nore. I would do it.”

“Why? Is it a cat?” She raised her eyebrow at Lucy and frowned, “He is isn’t he?”

“It's Thomas Shelby, Nore.” She whispered close to Nore’s ear and sat back again, biting her lip anxiously.

Her heart fell into her stomach and she looked at Lucy through the mirror for a moment. She cleared her throat and looked down at her red gloves.

“So? He doesn’t own me,” She tried to sound brave.

“No, but he owns half of Birmingham.” Lucy retorted and started again, “and besides, he used to be a factory boy, you remember don’t you? He used to live on our street!”

“That was before the war, Lucy. He’s changed since then. We all have.”

“Wasn’t your brother friends with Thommy?” She asked carefully, not wanting open old wounds.

“Like I said, Luce, we’ve all changed. I haven’t spoken to her in ages. The war was hard on everyone, even the Shelbys.” She sighed. Lucy looked down at her naked thighs pressed against the chair and took in a deep breath.

“You’ll do it though, won’t you?”

“If I don’t have a choice…” She shrugged and stared at herself in the mirror, “then I guess I will. Help me out of this corset, won’t you please?” She stood and Lucy undid the tough clasps on the back that insured the piece wouldn’t fly open during the act, no matter how many hands probed it. She shrugged the top off, her breasts sitting back against her chest. She put on the white satin bra and short set laid out for her second performance. She rolled on her stockings and clipped them into her garters to keep them from falling down. Lucy fastened a tulle train onto the back of her shorts and fixed the edges. She buckled her heels and fit the glitzy headband around her forehead. Someone switched her pearls for a necklace with small gold stars, and her red gloves for blush pink. She brushed a little kohl behind her eyes and sprayed herself with perfume, sticky and sweet.

Her second number was more choreographed and started like this:

She and the dancers entered with chairs. The chairs were arranged with her on center stage. The audience applauded and whooped and the girls smiled as brightly as they could beneath the white hot spot. “Last Nite” strikes up with the jumpy stutter of piano. It was a straight-forward dance. The hardest part was singing as she moved, bicycle-kicking her legs above her head in the chair. She abandoned the chair half-way through the song and scat at the microphone, accompanied by the instrumental riff.

They don’t understand

No, girlfriends, they won’t understand

A cheer went up from the crowd, beer spilling from raised glasses.

Last night he said

“Oh, baby, I feel so down”

“And it’s turnin’ me off when I feel left out”

So I, turned around

She turned slowly, kicking the tulle train back out as she did with her heel. Her arms were raised above her head, smiling wide.

“Oh darling no care no more

I know this for sure, I’m walking out, I’m walking out that door

And ain’t gonna understand

She winked and blew kisses to the growing crowd in the audience. She scanned the faces at the tables for Peaky Blinders. Then she saw the tell-tale peaky cap pulled down over his face. She couldn’t see his face in the darkened house but the way his table was separated from the rest in the club, and completely empty save the man sitting there with Irish Whisky told her enough. The crowd’s applause came to an end and she snapped back into character, curseying and raising her hand to the band.

“Thank you!” She twirled once more to show off her ensemble and curled her finger at Johnny who was still standing off stage.

“Oh, Johnny!” She called him out on stage and when he waddled over she put her chin on his shoulder, “Get these wonderful men a drink huh?” She smiled innocently. The crowd exploded with hoots and hollers. “That’s for making me meet with Shelby without asking me first, Johnny.” She growled beneath her breath and smiled at the crowd, “sweet dreams, boys!” The men waved from the audience and the girls scurried off stage.

She was too distracted to speak to anyone right after the show. She went straight to the dressing room and removed the tulle train from her shorts, grimacing as she did though it caused her no pain. Tommy was too smart to fall for her Lady Lenore act and she silently cursed herself for making the character such a staple of her success. He would be able to see through her confidence to her fear wallowing in her eyes. Some of the girls helped her quickly slip into a blush pink dress, the drop waist brushing against her hips. She changed into her normal heels, shiny black mary janes, and pulled off her headband. She left the star necklace around her neck but removed the gloves and extra jewelry. Lucy wiped off her bright red lipstick, changing it for a more casual color. One of the younger girls, Lily, ran in and called for her.

“Nore, Johnny said to take the spare dressing room.”

“Got it, thanks.” She nodded and exhaled loudly, pushing air through her nose. “He has everything fucking planned out,” she cursed below her breath. “Is he going to undress me for him too?” She grumbled and wiped kohl fallout from beneath her eyes.

“He may not want that.” Lucy offered.

“That’s what men always want, Luce.” She responded and sighed. With one last smile, she opened the door into an adjoining room called the spare dressing room. It was called that but it had never been one. There was a bed against the back wall with wood bed-frame and carved posts. The bed was dressed with clean sheets everyday and draped with a heavy red quilt to keep out the December cold. This was the nicest room out of the lot and it was reserved for our best clientele. A table and chairs separated the bed from the main door to the hallway. A bar cart sat idly against the side wall, stocked with cheap liqueur and towels. On the opposite side was a lounge in dark red fabric to hide stains. The wood floors were cold without the heaters and she could feel the chill even through her heels. She perched herself on the arm of the lounge and settled, waiting for Tommy Shelby to arrive.

He didn’t know when he came in, he wasn’t worried if he happened to walk in on anyone, and he just didn’t care. He avoided her eyes as he stepped into the room and closed the door, loud voices carried down the hallway like the smell of cigarette smoke. When the door was firmly closed behind him, he finally caught her eyes.

“Hello Mr. Shelby.” She didn’t move to stand.

“Miss Panning,” he gave her a curt nod, “or shall I call you Lady Lenore?”

She smiled and rolled her eyes. “Miss Panning unless you’d prefer to call me Lady Lenore.”

“Well Miss Panning,” he walked to the table and lit a cigarette, dropping the lighter and cigarette case on the table, “I’m sorry for disturbing your evening.” He gestured loosely to the direction of the stage, talking around the cigarette.

She sighed and stood, taking a cigarette that Tommy offered out to her. She held the cigarette between her lips as he flicked open the lighter and the cigarette caught. “Did you like my performance, Mr. Shelby.” She smiled, blowing out the smoke. He looked down at his shoes and exhaled a cloud of heavy gray smoke, his hands in his pockets. When he looked up his smile was pained, his brows furrowed.

“Eh, not really my thing.”

“Mmm of course. From what I’ve heard you like it quick and dirty. You’re not one for a performance, are you?” She teased darkly and moved to the bed, sitting at the end. He watched her, his eyes calm and unfazed. She flicked the ash of her cigarette to the floor and crossed her legs, the slit in her dress showing her thigh. He stared at her thigh, puffing on his cigarette.

“What do you want, Mr. Shelby?” She asked him bravely. He tore his eyes from her exposed leg and looked into her eyes. Exhaling and pulling the cigarette from his lips he rubbed his thumb across his thick lips.

“I want us to be friends, Nore.” He said finally, his voice restrained, holding back a layer of information he wouldn’t easily give up.

“I’m Nore now?” She almost sneered.

“We were neighbors once if you remember.”

“Those days are far behind us now, Mr. Shelby.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked down at the ground.

“Tommy.” He inclined his head slightly and stubbed out his cigarette. “And maybe they are but that doesn’t mean we can’t become friends again now, does it?

He’d said something like that years before when she was fifteen, he was seventeen, and best friends with her brother. Her brother told him that she had a huge crush on him and he’d treated her kindly, offering to be her friend, though nothing more. Hearing him now brought her back to that moment in the alley between their houses, ducking beneath the laundry lines. He’d told her that maybe when she was older… but he went to war and never came back the same. He hadn’t spoken more than a few sentences to her since, plagued by guilt. She’d lost her brother in the war.

“Why do you want to be friends, Tommy?” She asked slowly, fighting the images of her brother that entered her mind when she looked at him.

He lit another cigarette and pulled it from his lips.

“I think we can help each other.”

“Oh?” She switched legs, letting the fabric slide slowly over her skin. He watched, his jaw clenched, in what she read as distaste.

“I need someone who’s willing to be my eyes and ears inside this club. I know Billy Kimber and his men meet here.”

“Does this job require more than ‘eyes’ and ‘ears,’ Tommy?” She looked down at her cigarette.

“It would require anything that gets them comfortable to talk to you, you can fill in the rest.” He looked over at the whiskey. “Whisky?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yes, please.”

He took two thick crystal glasses from the cart and poured. He rounded the table to hand her a glass and she took it, looking up into his blue eyes. He took a deep drink from the whiskey and sighed. She drank and swirled the caramel liquor around in the glass.

“You know, Tommy, I don’t sleep with all of my clientele. Believe it or not but I prefer working boys over men like Kimber. I’m still a Small Heath girl, Tommy. That’ll never change, no matter how many rich men come in here promising me globs money in return for a quick fuck.”

He looked down at his shoes and nodded, thinking. He downed the rest of the whisky and cleared his throat.

“Will you do it?” He asked.

“What do I get in return?” She sighed.

“Money and protection, of course.” He put his glass on the table and leaned against it, sucking on his cigarette.

“Anything else?” She smiled softly.

He looked at her, expressionless, trying to determine what she wanted from him.

“What else would you like, Lenore?” He asked softly.

She swallowed the rest of her whiskey and smiled sweetly at him, taking from her character.

“Well, if we’re really to be friends, I want you to come to my shows.” She stood and reached around his waist to the ashtray and stubbed out her cigarette, looking directly in his eyes.

“And besides,” she continued softly, “men like nothing more than competition. If Kimber learns that you fancy me, he’ll do whatever he can to get with me.”

She took a step back and took a second cigarette from Tommy’s breast pocket. He lit it for her without a word.

“Alright,” he nodded, his face unchanging, “anything else?”

Her eyes softened and she fought back weak tears.

“Look after my father, Tommy. Make sure he’s safe too. If not for this, for James.” The mention of her brother stilled something in him. He nodded and cleared his throat. He turned and walked to the door to the hallway.

“Tommy,” she called from the bed. He paused with his hand resting on the door handle, “you know he’s going to kill me before they tell me anything you want to hear.” She said softly, almost sadly.

He said nothing for a moment and inhaled, looking over his shoulder though his eyes didn’t meet hers.

“I won’t let that happen.” He said evenly and left, the door closing loudly behind him. She tried to still her shaky hands, dragging on the shrinking cigarette.

_______

end part 1 here :)

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #cabaret #burlesque

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cillianmesoftlyyy · 9 months

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At the Cabaret Pt. 5 | Tommy Shelby x fem!character

Summary: Lady Lenore is back at the Cabaret and struggling to find her place there in her condition. She's still slowly recovering and with the help of her new partner, she learns how to heal. Cabaret is her first and only true love, is there room for more?

Warnings: Brief references to the previous sexual assault but no gory details. Discussions of sex and intimacy. Recovering from trauma, struggling with depression and probable PTSD. Sexism and objectification (less than in previous chapters). Outdated marital language and very binary. Brief mention of periods and blood at the very end.

word count: 2529k +

Sleep on The Floor- The Lumineers 🎶

I Want a Good Man- Annette Hanshaw 🎵

I'll Be Seeing You- Billie Holiday 🎶

Not proofed- sorry folks!

She went back to work the next day, still sore and uncomfortable. She wanted to get back, to put everything behind her. Her black eye was painfully obvious and she was still too sore to dance so she watched. She helped the younger dancers with their moves and waved away any questions about her eye. Clara covered her acts and made a little extra which she needed. She sat in the audience during the performances, losing all the bad thoughts and memories in the glitz and glamor onstage. She had a small table to herself towards the back and wore normal clothing, hiding her in plain sight. She ordered rums and cokes and smoked heavily.

Towards the end of the night, she heard someone sit beside her and rounded on him. When she looked, it was Tommy. He took off his hat and placed it on the table beside him and sniffed.

“You know you shouldn’t be back at work.” He said below his breath and stole her glass of rum and coke.

“I’m not performing.” She answered softly. “I just wanted to watch.”

They sat in silence, watching as Clara stripteased the audience. She smiled despite herself and looked over to make fun of Tommy but found that he was looking directly at her, his eyes wild in the soft lighting.

“Come home with me, Lenore.” He said seriously.

“What do you mean?” She swallowed nervously. He took a deep breath and looked back at Clara, his eyes unfocused on her as he thought of Lenore.

“Be my wife.” He said nonchalantly and lit a cigarette, staring down at the lightened end. She ran her fingers through her hair and chuckled softly.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Try me.” He turned to her with the dare.

“You want to marry me, Tommy?” She shook her head in disbelief.

“Yes, I do.” He nodded and exhaled a cloud of smoke. “I want to marry you, Lenore.” He said again and leaned in closer. “I’ll make you happy and I’ll look after you. I’ll be a good husband.”

“But do you love me?” She whispered breathlessly.

“Are you going to make me say it?” He sighed.

“Yes.”

“Ah, Lenore... I love you.” He said slowly in his serious, deadpan way of talking. She blushed and leaned in hesitantly, wanting to kiss him. He responded and kissed her slowly, his lips sucking against hers. She was breathless when she pulled away and caught him smiling a little.

“You’re smiling, Tommy.”

“Nonsense.” He continued to smile and put an arm around her shoulders. His suit smelled like Small Heath’s factories and coal. She rested her head against his neck and sighed. His hand stroked the skin on her arm and he rubbed his cheek against her hair.

“I’ll marry you under one condition.” She whispered.

“And what’s that?”

“You let me work for a little while longer.”

“I don’t love the prospect of having to share my wife with other men.” He grumbled and she smiled.

“Just up until we get married, ok?”

“Anything else?”

“No more whores.” She kissed his knuckle, still bruised from slamming them against the doors when she was assaulted by Kimber. He watched her quietly and licked his lips.

“No,” he shook his head, “no one else.” He kissed her head gently and pulled her closer. “No one but you, Lenore.”

…

After a week of rest she was able to go back onstage. It all still gave her a thrill to dress up and step out under the white glare of lights and eyes. Billy Kimber had assaulted the show-version of herself so each movement she exercised reminded her of his violation. She’d never thought of herself as a whore but stepping into the ring of light she realized she was a whore for the performance, for the audience, and for herself. It was a way to take Lady Lenore back from the bathroom floor. Tommy had come to every performance since he’d asked to marry her, taking Kimber’s old booth so whenever she looked over, instead of thinking of Kimber, she thought of Tommy and how much he loved her. He stayed and smoked his cigarettes and drank his whiskey until she was done and met her at the stage door like a true admirer, a single red rose held between his fingers like a school-boy.

She wore her engagement ring while she performed, basking in the waves of shimmery light that exploded out when the ring hit the spotlight.

“Sorry, boys!” She’d yelled, “I’m a taken woman now.” Tommy watched her with a smirk and flicked his cigarette into the ashtray. The crowd had applauded more out of fear, eyeing Tommy Shelby in the nearby booth, than actual excitement. They were sad to be losing their favorite sweetheart, Lady Lenore. “Say, none of you boys should be imagining me naked now.” She teased with a pout. The audience laughed and whistled. She could see Tommy laughing, his wide lips drawn up into a rare, beautiful smile.

The problem, she’d discovered, was that she felt too vulnerable as herself when she was anywhere else. Lady Lenore could handle anything but she couldn’t be Lady Lenore when she was with Tommy. As much as she tried to hide it, she was scared to have sex with Tommy, with anyone. He hadn’t asked for it but she dreaded the day when he would. Yes, she wanted to fuck him but what if it reminded her of Kimber? What if she started to hate him? What if it hurt? What if she could never satisfy him? She didn’t want it to be a wound that never healed, scar tissue that caused problems later. She hoped that her love would be enough.

In her routines since her engagement she’d switched totally over into a singer. She no longer did strip teases or barely-there costumes. It was her message to Tommy, a way of telling him that she was his and his only. She stepped out in a bright turquoise dress with butterfly sleeves, dotted with pearls. The dress itself was short in a flapper style and decorated with matching turquoise feathers. Dancers escorted her on stage with white feathered skirts. She took the mic and swirled her long strand of pearls.

“Gee, you all look a little lonesome out there tonight. Don’t they girls?” She whipped around to her dancers and they pouted dramatically, flickers of naughtiness in their doll eyes.

“Can’t you do something ‘bout it?” She asked with a sly smile. The audience roared.

“Don’t worry, boys. We’ve got the fix!” She winked at the band who struck up “I Want A Good Man.”

Gee, I’m awful lonesome,

I need company,

‘Cause I’ve turned my sweetie down

For he’s been cheating on me

She flashed her ring and the audience laughed. The girls broke out into a racey number, in their feathered tutus.

If you crave endearing charms,

I can fill your empty arms

I wanna good man,

And I want him bad

She hugged herself and did a brief Charleston step. The girls switched sides on the stage and shimmied their jeweled chests at the audience. She bounced on her heels and acted with her hands, selling the song.

For love indeed

Is what I need,

Affection is my line

In my plea, for goodness sake,

Won't someone give me a break?

I wanna good man,

And I want him bad

The dancers ran into the audience and surrounded the stage, forming a small kickline. Their garters slid slowly down their legs to their ankles and then flew off into the crowd of excited men. When she looked over, Tommy’s eyes were still stuck to her as if there weren’t half naked women throwing their undergarments off. His pretty face stared back at her and she smiled wider, dimples appearing on either side of her mouth. The dancers rushed back on stage with feather fans and fluttered them behind Lenore’s head. She stretched out her white gloved arms and turned back to the audience.

The rest is up to us

Here I am, make up your mind,

Girls like me are hard to find

I wanna good man,

And I want him so bad!

The crowd applauded and the dancers scurried off stage to change into their next set of costumes. She followed them and found her chair at the dressing table, dropping into it with a relieved sigh. Lucy changed into her next costume and congratulated Lenore quickly with a kiss on the cheek.

“You were wonderful, Nore!” She squealed and hurried back out for Clara’s number.

“Thank you!” She called after her and smiled at herself in the mirror. She felt herself switching back into her normal self, residue anxieties manifesting once again, heavy on her heart. She sat like that until the dressing room emptied before she started to cry, holding her head in her hands. No matter how much she pretended to be fine, she had to fight this feeling of overwhelming filth. She felt filthy and naked whenever she wasn’t acting. It was a cruel loop that she couldn’t get out of. Tommy was one of the only men that she felt comfortable around anymore. She was healing and it was hard. The dressing door opened and Tommy walked in, closing the door behind him. He approached her slowly with his hands in his pockets and a cigarette dangling from his lip. He looked down at her, tears still staining her face and cocked his head slightly to the side before nodding.

“Come ‘ere.” He beckoned her over with open arms and she stood from the chair and wrapped her arms around his chest.

“Tonight is the last night, yeah?” He said smoothly and she nodded.

“No more.” She cried softly and he stubbed the cigarette out, one arm still wrapped around her. He rubbed her back and waited silently as she stopped crying.

As much as she loved Cabaret, it was clear that she needed more time away from the memories the room offered. He wiped the running makeup from her face and helped her change, fetching the last costume from the rack for her. It was a simple champagne colored dress that she wore with her hair pinned up. He trailed his finger down her bare arm but withdrew it when she shivered. She looked at his reflecting in the lighted mirror and took in the way his body looked beside hers. He was strong and full, sturdy, like a pillar in the wind.

"I love you, Tommy." She whispered to the reflection and he smirked shyly.

“You look beautiful.” Tommy whispered back. She nodded, tears already beginning to burn once again in her eyes. He slipped a warm hand around her waist and escorted her through the narrow hallway to the stage. She watched from the sidelines as Clara took her bows. She traded places with Clara and watched as Tommy went back to his seat at the booth, his arm strewn over the booth’s back. The audience whistled as she stepped up to the microphone.

“This is my last song for you boys. I'm retiring a bit early. It's a sad song and I hope it won’t break your hearts.” She smiled and nodded to the band. “I’ll Be Seeing You” began with a jazzy piano riff and a trombone whine.

I’ll be seeing you

In all the old familiar places

That this heart of mine embraces

She sang raspily into the microphone and squinted up into the moon glow of the spotlight.

I’ll be seeing you

In every lovely summer’s day

In everything that’s light and gay

I’ll always think of you that way.

She fought the tears in her sockets and smiled lovingly at Tommy, the one she wanted to hear these lyrics. God, she loved him. She loved him so bad that she felt a sharp magnetic pull, like their hearts were opposite poles, pulled together. The men in the audience reacted in different ways. Some looked sadly into their beer and others watched her, their mouths held slightly agape. Tommy watched her with his usual straight face and she couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but it looked like he loved her. His head fell gently to the side as he smoked a cigarette, his eyes trained on her as she sang. She winked quickly.

I’ll find you

In the morning sun

And when the night is newI’ll be looking at the moon

But I'll be seeing you.

She repeated the last verse in a swelling voice that silenced the room and saddened her heart.

I’ll find you

In the morning sun

And when the night is new

I’ll be looking at the moon

But I’ll be seeing you.

The trombone played the ending out with a sour flare and she bowed to the loud clatter of applause and whistles. She wiped a tear from her eye and smiled, waving goodbye. She blew kisses to everyone and stalked slowly off the stage. The dancers offstage wiped away their tears.

“That was so beautiful, Nore.” Clara whispered and dabbed her eyes.

“Did you mean that this was your last performance ever?” One girl asked.

“I’m done with Cabaret and I’m ready to move on. I’ll have a husband soon…” She tried to smile and followed Lucy down the hallway back to the dressing room. She changed back into her street clothes and exchanged heart-felt goodbyes with the dancers. When she pulled herself away from the powdery haze of the dressing room, Tommy was waiting outside in the alley, his peaky hat’s razor twinkling in the moonlight. When she emerged, he discarded his cigarette, dropping it into a puddle and slipped a hand around her waist.

“Did you like my song, Tommy?” She smiled as he held her close to his side.

“Sad.” He chuckled.

“Did it break your heart?”

“No, no.” She shook his head, “It's already been broken.” He looked down at her and pulled her into his chest, kissing her. She sighed and kissed him back, relaxing into the touch that she was starting to crave.

“Who broke your heart, Tommy Shelby?” She asked softly against his lips.

“The same girl who’s mending it.” He smiled slyly and they continued to walk. They hurried around large puddles of coal dust and got to the entrance of her building, the street side was covered in black coal like matte black paint. She stepped up on one of the rough cement stairs and stood on the falls of her feet so that she was face to face with Tommy. She gave him quick little kisses like pecs and hugged him around his broad shoulders. Kissing him, she remembered what she’d been meaning to tell him all day. She was too nervous to tell him before but as he held her waist loosely in his gloved hands, she felt safe enough to finally say it.

“Tommy, I have something to tell you,” she pulled away and placed her hands on each of her shoulders, looking into his dark eyes in the shadows.

“What?” He inhaled deeply.

“I bled yesterday, Tommy.” She whispered with a sincere smile. “I’m not pregnant.” She almost started crying again with relief. He seemed surprised by the news, not expecting it. After a few short moments, he nodded and took her hands in his. He cleared his throat and appeared to be fighting tears too but didn't let them show.

“Good, good," was all he could say as he smiled and kissed her long fingers, his nose brushing her engagement ring. He clenched his jaw and she pulled his face up to meet hers. They stared at each other for a while, unable to come up with words.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me." She nodded emphatically.

“I know, Tommy.” She kissed him and held onto him tightly. He pulled away after a minute, kissing her forehead. “We can put that all behind us now. We’ll be married in another two weeks.” She reminded him and he smiled, starting to walk away.

“Hmmm, that so?” He called over his shoulder playfully.

"Its too late to back out now!" She called after him.

"Go to bed, Lenore!" He called back and crossed the street, his long black coat swaying with each step.

_______ End of pt. 5 :)

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