Author's Note:

Hello everyone, this is Adiemus here, and this is defiantly an original fic! I don't know why I'm even writing this, I just saw the trailer for the movie Chicago, which this is going to be loosely based on (I haven't seen the movie, so bear with me). When I say loosely I mean loosely. I think I have the general idea for some of it………..I've kept some of the same names, but they look different from the actors and actresses in Chicago. This is completely different from anything I've ever written, I've never done a musical or a play or anything like this, so please any kind of pointers would help. The style of this is also a big change for me, since I usually do very little dialogue and TONS of detail! (Of course, that doesn't apply to the first couple of chapters, since I want you to get a feel for it). Seriously, if any of you like big words and long complicated sentences check out my story "The Empress" on it is completely different from this. Heh, just wanted to let you know I don't talk like the way they do in this story, I had to rough it up for a realistic point of view. Sorry, I didn't mean to write this much………I think I'm forgetting something, but if I am I'll just post it next chapter. Oh yeah, I don't really think I've distributed the amount of detail very well, so if I get the chance I may go back and revise a few things. Please give this a try!

…: And All That Jazz :…

La la la la, the words, not even words at that, kept spinning and playing 'round and 'round in her head, and the vibrant sound of drums and the 'ol brass band echoed back and forth, rhythmically in tact with the fast paced beating of her heart and the swaying of her body back and forth. She irritably chewed hard on her gum, anxiously popping at every single chance she got. Hell, she didn't get a lot chances anywhere else, why not take the opportunity now? She was Roxie, and she was a showgirl. Naw, not on Broadway, but in what could be described as "Beginning Theater"………..or you might call it the high school play. See, you couldn't really get anywhere in Tulsa, the small town full of fighting gangs without names, old washed up farmers, and gossiping backstabbing citizens. One day she'd get outta here and make it to some big city; the nightlife of New York, the fame of Hollywood, or the bright lights of Chicago. Chicago; it was the name of her most recent idea, hopefully one that would put her on the map. Either way it wasn't much of a deal to the local folks, but to Ms. Roxie Hart it was a way of life. She'd show them-come back in a couple years on her way to star in an award winning play or movie or something great. Glory did that girl love to show herself off. She could do it all; she danced, she sung, and she was a real looker. If any of those old time stars had gotten their hands on a time machine to Tulsa in the sixties, they would've gone mad with jealously for sure.

"Why there ain't a star in heavens who wouldn't give to be in your pretty lil' shoes honey!" or "Darlin' if Judy Garland or Rita Hayworth took on look atcha they'd have gone right an' hung 'emselves." This was what Roxie was often told, and it only helped with her self-esteem, a factor that could've been both good and bad. But nevertheless, no one comment, nor a plethora of those sugar-sweet words could do anything to waver her faith and stamina. Aw, she was one tough cookie all right, not a girl in the same town could compare, and she liked it that way. The boys flocked to her and the girls and adults whispered around her, for not matter how old they may be, it is a given fact that many of the male species can't resist a good-looking gal, and the more racy the better.

She snapped the heels of her black spikes and did a little number, just to warm her up for the time ahead. Maybe it was only a rehearsal, but it was a chance to get better, and better she would get. In fact, whatever Roxie wanted Roxie got, whether it was a new set of jewelry or a couple bucks for the soda Shoppe down the street. This was the year, she was a senior and she'd finally flirted with enough committee members to get her own play. Originally she'd opted for the role of a hooker, but found no kind of offer she could make would give her the opportunity to bring about that much controversy. So she went for the second choice. Roxie'd play a woman who'd committed some kind of criminal offense and rose to fame and that all that came along with the fieriness of showbiz. Now, not being that much of a stupid girl, she operated most of the play, save for the script. No, that task was rightly given to the man, or boy, who could carry out a story worthy enough of Roxie herself. And who is he you ask? Why the only one fit for the job, Mr. Ponyboy Curtis.

Said he'd gotten some experience writing for the school newspaper or some form of junk like that. Oh well. "Listen up sugar," she told him at auditions, "I don't wanna a writer who gives a dime 'bout politics or whether or not the school ain't paying the staff enough. I wanna writer who'll really make something of this. I intend to make it big someday, and if you ain't willing to help me, I'll just find else someone who will!" If anyone but Pony had seen the passion that shone I her eyes the second she finished her speech, why they'd swear it didn't exist. Roxie Hart never cared about anything in Tulsa before, so why this play? Well, the answer to question remained inside the minds of only two living creatures………the persecutor and the victim, aka Roxie and Pony. And what a team they were; there were a regular Judy and Mickey, Elvis and Costello, Tom and Huck. In other words for all you misologists out there or just kids, I suppose you might simply say the fit; and they fit well. Even the names: Pony and Roxie. Not exactly common, that's for sure, but unique and eccentric often receives the most attention.

She heard the distant sounds of her classmates as they yelled back and forth to each other, reciting forgotten lines, cussing and fighting and figuring out the proper amount of light for a certain scene. She clicked her heels together, and snapped her fingers, glancing around the scarlet curtain towards her most celebrated writer. She turned the fabric slightly so that she still appeared mysterious, her pale bare shoulder sticking out to contrast "loverly" with the red tapestry and her scarlet hair. He looked up form his work, red-faced and tired, and gave her a weak smile. The white-cotton shirt was rolled up to his elbows and she had to admit he almost looked dashing had he been more focused. Attitude was everything to Roxie, and if you didn't have it, you weren't good enough to like the dirt off her shoes………not they were ever dirty mind you, just a tad scuffed due to dancing everyday. She returned the gesture, but let a heavy amount of slyness drip into her smile. She gave him a wink also, just for the hell of it. No boy or man could ever tell if Ms. Hart was into him, 'cause she'd flirt everybody if she were in the mood. 'Course they never complained.

Her playful attitude suddenly slipped away as she noticed a familiar face in the background of all the mayhem. She put on a disgusted face, tossed back her hair and leaned archly on a nearby post. Her one known-rival forcefully approached the stage, her jaded green eyes piercing right into Roxie's. Velma Kelley strutted up and threw her chest forward, as if calling out a personal threat to the girl who had it all. Now Velma, though much like Roxie, was a different kinda girl. She wasn't as pretty, wasn't as graceful or energetic, but still she kept the definition of a smoldering temptress, her title since the eighth grade. Neither girl could wait for graduation when they would vow never set sight on the other again. The air intensified around them, and it was as if the people around them paused from whatever they were doing to catch a glimpse of the epic moment. Hell, it wasn't everyday you saw this.

The sound of a cough echoing throughout the room brought Roxie's eyebrow to rise and Velma to wheel around in flash, trying to catch the crazy bastard who would dare to interrupt her. What she found displeased her greatly. Before the girls stood a rather large woman, dominating the presence of the entire room. Her dark eyes and skin made her look like a chocolate cake, and her hair added the frosting on top. Her features proved to be masculine and intimidating to those who angered her wrath, but the ones whom loved her were never weary of the sharp nose and chin. Velma greeted her with bitter disdain.

"Well well well, what have we here? Why Mona Matron I swear you get fatter everyday."

"Honey do I look like I give a damn 'bout what you say, you little tart?"

"Oh, Mona that was cold!" She turned her head towards the group of boys that had started to gather 'round. "Why are you fellas gonna let her talk to me that way?" Her eyes looked down in fake sadness, and her lips formed a red circle of poutiness. She squirmed, moving her nimble body every witch way, hoping to entice them. Her supposedly sexy moves were to end, for at that instant a strong arm wrapped around her wrist, pulling her off the stage and dragging her down the aisle.

"Oh Mona, it's just a little fun that's all! Jiminy Cricket, you sure are a killjoy!"

"Close up your smart mouth before I put my fist in it! If I catch you making any more trouble you ain't even gonna be in the play this year!" Snickers could be heard from the auditorium bouncing off the walls, each growing quieter than the last. Roxie, clearly not liking the publicity of the situation, walked down the steps towards Pony, grasping his collar and pulling no less than an inch away from her face. Her breath created a bit of mist to cloud on his face, and she stared at his lips, not daring herself to look him in the eye. Sure she was a good actress, but she'd tried it once before and found she became almost lost in them. His eyes were grayish-green, and a girl couldn't help but notice how pleasing they were.

"Ya know Pony, you're looking pretty good to me, why don't you try out for the play? You'd get all the lines down right away………after all you wrote it. Besides, I need a real man to work with." Her gaze wavered for a second, her hands sticking themselves into his back pockets. His eyes widened a bit, his mouth opened slightly, and slight gasp could be heard. Satisfied, she pulled back, staring with a small triumphant smile, maybe even a smirk plastered crosses her face. Seductively biting her lip she licked her teeth in a horizontal motion and strutted away. Boys piled all round Pony asking him questions, yet he stood completely still, gazing after her retreating form.

End Chapter