This came into my head and I just had to get it out. It looks like it might turn into something quite long, and unfortunately, this is mostly setting the scene. For those of you who may not know, in the early 1920's alcohol was banned from the United States in what came to be known as the prohibition era. The song is 'Bound to You' from the movie Burlesque. Not particularly, historically accurate but I felt like it fit. Please review, they mean the world to me! Thanks a lot ;D!
December 31st 1921
Missing Person!
Early this morning, Sir Richard Carlisle – prominent newspaper publisher – confirmed the disappearance of his wife of one year, Mrs. Mary Carlisle. Born Lady Mary Crawley, Mrs. Carlisle was a notoriously cold and sarcastic woman so it hardly comes as a surprise that her husband has not yet issued a search for her.
February, 1923
New York City
"What shall we do tonight?" Molly asked walking into the room her husband and his guest, Mr. Crawley, was sitting in discussing a current case. This was Mr. Crawley's first visit to America and the Parkingsons had welcomed to successful English lawyer into their home, making it their mission to show him the wonders of New York City.
"How about a show?" John suggested.
"Perhaps. I'm dying for a drink though. I don't think I've ever gone this long without a drop of alcohol," he replied.
"Are you willing to bend the rules a little to get one?"
"At this point yes." Matthew had taken a rather strong liking to alcohol following Lavinia's death and was finding his stay in prohibition America incredibly difficult.
"It's decided then, let's go to a speakeasy!" Molly declared happily.
"A what?"
"A speakeasy. They are underground bars all over America. Which one should we go to?" John explained before turning his attention back to his wife.
"Silver Palace, of course! You are doing business with Mr. Crawley here; we simply must provide nothing but the best! And Silent Rose is headlining tonight, you know how I love to watch her."
"Ah, c'est bon idée!" John boomed in a comical French accent, "Dress in your finest, we will leave at 7:30."
In their finest clothes, they entered the grandest hotel in the city later that night. Walking straight through the lobby, they entered the labyrinth of corridors that led to all the rooms on the first floor, winding around and around until they came to a stop in front of room 100. John tapped the door lightly. From inside the door came the sound of a cautious reply.
"Yes?" it asked.
"It's Mr. and Mrs. Parkingson with a friend. It is so very cold outside and I haven't a coat. Please let us in."
Matthew was rather confused, as the hotel was well heated, but it all became clear to him when the door opened and instead of the room he was expecting, a steep staircase stood before them. They made their way past the little man behind the door and down the stairs, marching down another hallway until they came to a much grander doorway. An elegantly dressed valet opened the doors with a sweeping motion and Matthew drank in the breathtaking scene before him.
The room was huge with a long, busy bar against one wall, tables and booths covering every inch of available space. They were all facing an enormous stage that housed a magnificent grand piano and every other instrument needed for a first class jazz band. The light was low and cigarette smoke hung in the air, floating over the heads of elegant patrons. John smiled at Matthew's astonished expression, laughing and exclaiming, "Welcome to the real New York!"
They wound their way across the floor to an empty table at the front, very close to the stage. As they sat down, a band dressed in black and white suits began to play lively music that gave Matthew the impressing that the night was just kicking off.
John went off to get them some drinks and Molly began to tell Matthew the strange circumstances regarding the singer due to come on.
"She has the best voice I've ever heard," she started, "but that's not why everyone is so drawn to her, not really. It's the mystery that surrounds her."
"Oh?"
"Mmm, she showed up just over a year ago, out of nowhere. One night, there she was. I don't know her name, or anything about her past, this is the only place I ever even see her, never around the city.
She is British, I know that, and a friend of mine thinks she has the manner of the aristocratic ladies, but I don't know. She is either a runaway lady or a very good actress; it is all speculation mind you. Have you not had quite a few dealings with the aristocracy yourself?"
"A few."
"Well maybe you can shed some light on the matter. However, as exciting as that all is, I'm not particularly interested in where she is running from, more what she is running from."
"Do you have a theory on that matter then?" Matthew inquired playfully, he was quite enjoying this tale.
"Indeed!" Molly leaned in conspiratorially, "I'm inclined to believe that she is trying to escape a broken heart."
"Oh really?"
"Yes. It's just something about the way she sings, the way she looks at everyone. And she has this necklace – one that she always wears, I've never seen he without it. I'm sure it was a gift from the mystery man, and now that I think about it, the aristocracy theory makes sense, and whoever gifted that must have had money."
"There is the possibility that she bought it for herself."
"I highly doubt that. Women don't buy themselves pieces of jewelry like that."
"I see." Matthew's mind inexplicably flashed back to the necklace he bought Mary for Christmas in 1919. It was a sun, to remind her of everything that is light when all is dark, and encrusted with brilliant red rubies, to show her spirit and the passion she had brought to life. He left all that on a note incased in the box which he had given to Anna to leave on Mary's bed, wanting the gift to be more intimate and private. He had signed the note 'I'm sorry, I love you. Matthew'. He knew he hadn't needed to sign his name, but he wanted her to see it all the same. Matthew had gotten on the first train to Manchester the next morning and had hardly seen her since.
John returned at that moment, just as the lights went down farther, making it almost black. The stage lights however, rose to their full brightness. The room went silent as the pianist stood up and walked up the front of the stage.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Silver Palace is proud to present… Silent Rose!"
All eyes turned to the corner of the stage and a collective gasp escaped the audience as the singer stepped out from behind the curtains and made her way to center stage.
Her delicate nude dress ended at the top of her thighs and was covered in a sheer black overlay that fell all the way to the ground. It hugged her beautifully to the hip where it then fell down in soft ripples to the floor. The gown was dripping in black jewels that glinted in the light; the ivory white skin of her leg seemed to glow as it peeked out from the thigh-high slit in the skirt. Her lips were painted a brilliant red and the black kohl around her eyes made her chocolate irises jump out against the porcelain skin of her face. Long, deep chestnut locks fell in perfect waves around her face splaying out over her neck and bare shoulders. Just a few strands were held out of her eyes, clipped back with a soft white rose. And then he saw it. The red sun, glittering in the spotlights, resting delicately atop her collarbone, Mary's collarbone. The lost Mary was standing before him on stage, looking absolutely ethereal, about to sing in New York's best speakeasy.
"Is that the necklace?" Matthew whispered to Molly.
"The very same."
If Matthew's heart had been pounding in his chest before, it stopped completely now. And then she opened her mouth.
"Sweet love, sweet love, trapped in your love.
I've opened up, unsure I can trust,
My heart and I were buried in dust,
Free me, free us.
You're all I need, when I'm holding you tight,
If you walk away, I will suffer tonight."
Her voice was strong and full, steadily gaining volume and engulfing the large room in rich, deep waves of music that rolled over the silent audience.
"I've found a man I can trust, and boy I believe in us,
I am terrified to love for the first time,
Can you see that I'm bound in chains,
And finally found my way.
I am bound to you,
I am bound to you."
The sound resonated throughout the room and her eyes were glassy, staring off into the distance as if she was singing to someone who wasn't in the room. Her voice slid effortlessly up and down the scales, the words falling from her lips loaded with emotion and meaning. She performed a melody of love songs, telling the stories of broken and mended hearts, and while most of the songs were happy, they were infused with a sort of wistful longing, a definite sadness. The music changed again, morphing into the tune of the first song once more.
"Suddenly the moments here, I embrace my fears,
All that I have been carrying, all these years,
Do I risk it all, come this far just to fall, fall?
I can trust, and boy I believe in us,
I am terrified to love for the first time.
Can you see that I'm bound in chains,
And finally found my way
I am bound to you
I am, ooh, I am,
I'm bound to you"
The last note hung in the air and she closed her eyes and lowered her head. She reopened her eyes, smiling at the audience as she gracefully accepted their thunderous applause.
From her place on the stage, she could hardly see the audience due to the bright stage lights. But as she scanned the crowd, her eyes met familiar ice blue ones and her breath caught in her throat. Her head whipped around in a double take, could it be? No, no it couldn't. But still… she knew those eyes. Before she could make out any more however, the thick velvet curtains were drawn across the stage and she was cut off from the audience.
"Rose, are you alright?" one of the band members asked.
"What? Yes, yes, sorry. Just thought I saw someone," and with that she hurried off to her dressing room, praying that her mind was playing tricks on her. Again.
Back outside, Matthew's mind was racing. Mary. Mary was here. He found her.
