Death of a Bachelor
Carol/Jess 20's Lounge Singer AU
Blue Velvet (Lana Del Rey version) - watch?v=H0gr2abrE64
Jessica ran her hand up and down the edge of the curtain as she peeked from the tiny backstage area in the smoky club, and saw that it was almost full. The velvet of the black curtain was a smooth, soothing feeling mostly there to contrast with her nerves. She'd never performed here before, and she had heard that the regulars of the Quiet Room were very particular about their tastes. She needed this job, as legally questionable as it was, and she'd been told before she had the voice for a lounge.
What she was afraid of was Big Tony Stark. She wasn't alone in this fear—he was the feat of most of New York. He was the bootlegger the Police couldn't even touch, half because he bought them off and half because he wasn't the kind of guy who you crossed.
He was also the most famous of the Quiet Room's regular patrons. There was one table near the front of the room that was always reserved for him without any prior notice, without any spoken command. That was his place, and there wasn't a soul who dared to usurp him.
A man in a tuxedo shirt and a bow tie placed a hand on her bare shoulder and she nearly jumped. "Ms. Drew?" he whispered, "it's nine o'clock." Before she could even reply, the man had hurried off, probably to bring someone another drink. That was, after all, the main point of the lounge. She took a final breath and pushed her cheeks back into a smile, her red lips shining in the lights as she stepped out onto the small stage, the band moving quietly to their instruments behind her. Jessica found that she could see much more of the audience than she thought she would have been able to, the lights not finding her eyes with the glare she'd feared.
The tables were almost all full of people in suits and dressed, almost every one of them with a drink in hand. It was mostly hard liquor here in the Quiet Room, because it gave the place an air of sophistication, and the people who frequented it were always looking for a way to look more the fashion of the day. One of the tables was very conspicuously empty, and that was the one directly in front of the mic, with its candle centerpiece lit, the sole piece on the table, waiting for companions. Jessica's heart lifted a little bit and she leaned forward to the mic, conscious of the way this highlighted certain assets to the audience. She had a good voice, but she figured it wouldn't hurt to, on the first night, do what she could to make a good first impression.
"Good evening to you all," she breathed softly, taking in the way her voice was amplified through the room. "My name is Jessica Drew, and I'm so glad to be here with you all tonight." The place, almost true to its name, quieted as she spoke, the only voices mere murmurs. Her light accent tugged at the vowels as she continued: "I hope you will enjoy what we've got for you all tonight." She stepped back and nodded to the drummer, who began a beat that the rest of the band easily picked up on.
Jessica closed her eyes, taking in the warm sound of the band behind her, and stepped up to the microphone again, her fingers lacing around it as she began to sing. "She wore blue—velvet…" She tilted her head softly, her hair tumbling down in long waves. "…bluer than velvet was the night…"
She could feel a dull warmth on her face from the lights. She moved her body gently back and forth with the music. "Softer than satin was the light…" She turned her cheeks upward and opened her eyes as she turned back downward "…of the stars…" The door near the back of the club opened, and a pair entered. Jessica could feel her heart jump, realizing that they were moving forward, straight toward the unofficially reserved table. She moved into the second verse: "She wore blue velvet…" There he was—it was the famed Tony Stark, fear of New York, and he was moving right toward where she was singing. She felt a tightening in her chest.
"Bluer than velvet were her…" Jessica almost lost the song there, because she had caught a glimpse of the tall blonde beauty on Tony Stark's arm. Towering over him in a dazzling black-and-yellow dress, she almost radiated light. She had a sly half-smile, as if knowing that she was the most beautiful creature in the room. She turned to Jessica for the briefest moment, as Jessica finished the line: "…eyes." She blinked with a nod at Jessica and turned back to Tony, who was chatting boisterously with someone at a nearby table.
Jessica wondered for a brief moment if there was red coming to her cheeks, and whether it would accent her dress or if it would make her look nervous. "Warmer than May her tender sighs…" She slid her hand down the microphone stand, her eyes flitting from the beautiful woman and around the room, so she would seem to be staring. "Love was ours…"
The music swelled from the band, and Jessica let herself gyrate slowly to the music, closing her eyes as she did. She was keenly aware of the mob boss as he came to his seat in front of her, and just as aware of the blonde beauty who accompanied him. The two of them, they intimated power, and they were watching her. She launched into the refrain.
"Ours a love I held tightly, feeling the rapture grow…" She forced her eyes away from her most prominent audience members and surveyed the rest of the tables. They were full of people in various states of inebriation, in various states of attention to her song. That was okay; that was what she had expected when she had accepted this job. She had gotten into it for the paycheck, not for the attention.
"Like a flame burning brightly, but when she left, gone was the glow of…" She swayed a bit more, shaking her hips back and forth a bit. The people there in the Quiet Room might like that—just enough sex appeal to keep them interested, and not enough for them to peg her for a harlot on the first day. Some of the men here, they could—she knew they had a reputation, once they'd gotten some of that liquor into them. That's why it'd been outlawed in the first place, right?
"Blue velvet…" Her eyes, opened again, made their way back to the table front and center, right in front of her. Specifically, they reached the eyes that matched the color she was crooning, and she felt something of a shock through her body, an uncontrollable shiver. She almost missed the next note, and it took her a moment to tear her eyes from the other woman. "But in my heart there'll always be precious and warm a memory, through the years…"
She rolled her eyes upward, just above the lights, as if it were an orchestrated part of the performance. The band swelled for the final line, and she felt a warmth—of the music, the lights, and the eyes on her. "And I can see blue velvet through my tears." The music behind her played it out, and she gave a small smile to the audience, red in her cheeks. "Thank you," she breathed, and a small spattering of applause answered her. Both Big Tony and his consort were among those in providing the accolades.
Jessica turned back to the band to signal that they could count in the next song.
Jessica felt the back of her high heels digging into her Achilles tendon and as soon as she exited the stage, she began to make her way toward the back room that was working as a dressing room for her. Before she had made it halfway down the back hallway, however, Ms. Amaquelin caught her by the arm and led her back into the Quiet Room's main room. "Blackagar was asking for you, Ms. Drew," she said as she led her into the less-than-full bar. Many of the patrons had left just after her set, realizing how late it was getting. About half of them, though, lingered to finish their drinks.
She led Jessica to the bar, where a large, stately man stood washing glasses—her employer, Mr. Boltagon. "Good evening, sir," she said, with a small nod of respect. Rather than responding, he simply nodded toward the couple standing down at the end of the bar and looked back to the work he was doing, finishing the glass, placing it on the shelf, and grabbing another. Ms. Amaquelin led Jessica down to the other couple.
"Good evening," she said as they approached. The man turned around to see them, and a large grin spread from between two parts of his goatee.
"Medusalith," he said, opening his arms to her. She gave him a brief embrace, accepting and returning a greeting in the French way, a peck on each cheek. Once they finished, Mr. Stark gestured to the woman standing with him. "I would like to introduce you to my companion this evening. Medusalith Amaquelin, this is Carol Danvers."
The blonde leaned forward, her teeth dazzling in a perfect smile. She reached a hand out and shook the hostess's. "I'm charmed."
"And this," said Medusalith, turning to Jessica, "is Jessica Drew, whom I'm sure you know, after she graced our stage tonight. She's the Quiet Room's newest musician-in-residence."
"Graced we were," said Mr. Stark, taking Jessica's hand and placing a kiss on the back of it. Jessica grinned to him. "Your voice is something else," he said.
"Thank you," she said, understanding what weight came with that compliment. "And it is an honor to meet you, Mr. Stark."
"I see my reputation precedes me," said Big Tony, straightening up as he did, beaming.
"And I must say," said Ms. Danvers, reaching for Jessica's hand, "I, too, was dazzled." Jessica offered her hand and they shook. Carol's handshake was firm, but tender at the same time—assertive enough but still aware of the other's hand, not wanting to crush it. Jessica didn't like that she had to let go.
"I am glad you liked my performance," said Jessica. She forced herself to take her eyes from Ms. Danvers's, and to address the rest of those assembled. "I must admit, I was a tad nervous for my first night here." She looked to Medusalith, and back to the two guests. "The Quiet Room carries a bit of a powerful reputation."
"One you've lived up to," said Mr. Stark, grinning. He pulled a cigar from his jacket pocket. "Ms. Amaquelin, do you mind?"
"Not at all, Mr. Stark," she replied, and, as if to punctuate the point, offered him a match from a matchbook in her small clutch bag. He lit his cigar and puffed a few times to get it going.
"Thank you," he said. He tuned to Jessica. "I have to say, I am more than impressed. And I'm glad you're here—the while without a singer left this place a little too… Well, a little too quiet, if you'll pardon the pun."
Medusalith and Jessica gave a small, polite laugh in response to this. Carol spoke, however: "I, for one, look forward to hearing you sing again, Ms. Drew." She let her eyes drop ever-so-briefly, surveying Jessica, but Jessica caught it. She almost reddened. "We will be in for more." She tugged slightly on Big Tony's sleeve as she said this, and he gave her a nod as he blew out some smoke from his cigar.
"Thank you," said Jessica, and she caught herself staring at the yellow sash that accented Carol's dress, and forced her eyes upward, only to catch Carol's. They were piercing, and Jessica felt weak in her legs just from seeing her—and it was not just the rapidly forming blisters on the back of her heels. "I—I very appreciate…" She cleared her throat. "That means a lot, coming from you."
Carol grinned, giggling slightly, and turned to Mr. Stark. "Tony," she said, "it's getting late—I think it'd be best if you took that cigar to go. They're trying to shut up around here."
Tony fumbled for his watch for a moment, cigar still between his fingers, but then decided that it was too much work, and shrugged. "You're right," he said, and patted her hand on his arm. "We'd best be going. I'm sure Jarvis has the car ready."
"Thank you for your patronage," said Ms. Amaquelin. "We always appreciate it when you stop by the Room."
"The pleasure is all mine," said Big Tony. He gave Jessica a nod as he led Ms. Danvers out with him, past the bar to the doors. As they went, Carol turned back, and her eyes locked with Jessica's, and closed with some sort of message to her—pleasure, or amicability, or desire—and followed her date out the doors. Jessica stared at the spot where she had been after the doors had closed for a moment afterward, imagining that last look, and the last flash of golden hair, before she had gone. She had touched her; she had spoken to Ms. Carol Danvers, perhaps an angel on earth, with the eyes the color of blue velvet. Her heart sped a bit as she thought of her, even now, after she'd gone.
She was pulled back into reality only when Medusalith spoke to her. "…your payment." Jessica turned to see Ms. Amaquelin holding an envelope out to her. She took it and slipped it beneath the neckline of her dress.
"Thank you," she said. "And thank you again for this opportunity."
Medusalith smiled. "It seems that you were well received on your first night," she said. "And Boltagon did not make a mistake in choosing you. For such a quiet man, he has quite the ear." She paused. "We will be expecting you tomorrow night."
"I look forward to it," said Jessica. "Thank you."
She watched as Ms. Amaquelin walked away, and knew that more than the performance, what she really looked forward to was seeing Ms. Danvers again, there in the front row. That would make this gig all worthwhile.