AN: And the second chapter! enjoy!
One Week Later
"Heya, Mush," Race greeted his friend smiling, then noticed the hangdog expression Mush was wearing. "Hey, whatsa matter?" he asked, concerened. Mush didn't say anything, just looked even more dejected. "Uh oh," Race said, comprehension dawning, "It happened again, didn't it?" Mush nodded forlornly. "Why do girls always dump me, Race?" Race scuffed his feet against the cobblestones. They had this conversation almost weekly. It was always the same. Mush would meet some pretty girl, fall head over heels for her, get together, declare his love, and get dumped. And every time Race would say, "Well, Mush, it could be that you come on a little strong." And always Mush would say, "But, Race, I can't help it, my feelings just get away from me." But that's not what he said this time. Instead he declared, "You're right. I've had it! Next time I meet a girl I like I won't say I love her till she says she love me." Race looked dubiously at Mush, "Don't you think that might be going a little far?" he asked hesitantly. Mush's face hardened. "No, I can't stand to get my heart broken anymore." Race could forsee trouble coming from this, but he knew Mush wasn't going to give up the idea, so instead of arguing he said, "Come on Mush, let's go to Medda's." Mush agreed and they turned toward Irving Hall.
*****
Blush peeked out from behind the curtain. Sure enough there was a full house. Just as Aunt Medda had promised. She scanned the crowd carelessly. Most of the crowd consisted of guys in newsboy dress. Guys, ha! More like boys, she thought. She had not been impressed with the newsboys she had met. Jack Kelly was ladies man and even now had a new girl at his side, one of Blush's fellow performers, Stress. Blush liked Jack after a while, but mostly for Medda's sake. And Spot . . . she almost let out a growl of anger. Spot had broken her good friend, Duchess' heart. She relaxed as she saw him and Duchess sitting at the center table with Jack's latest flame. Duchess was sitting next to Spot, teasing him. Spot finally leaned over and kissed her, to make her stop. Blush felt a lump in her throat. No one had ever kissed her like that. No one had ever loved her enough to do that. Trying to shake off the feeling, Blush looked towards the door. She suddenly dropped the curtain. She opened it again, peering out at the boy who had just walked in. Blush scolded herself mentally. It's just another guy! And a cute one at that, her devious side thought. She looked even closer. The guy walked up the Jack and waved slightly as he and Racetrack sat down at a table near the bar. Thankfully the guy sat facing the stage. She scanned his features. He sat slightly slumped over, a hand pushing his newsie hat back, as some stubborn dark curls fell in his deep chocolate eyes. His olive-skinned face looked glum as he ordered a drink. Blush knew that when he smiled he would probably look even more handsome. Someone walked up behind her. "Ready, Blush?" Aunt Medda stood there decked out in her usual dress of purple with fancy ornaments. Blush looked down at her simpler dress, regretfully dropping the curtain and her view of the cute guy. She wore a black satin gown, decorated only with embroidered silver stars. The bodice was corseted, supported by tight cap sleeves. The skirt was flowy but not poufy, to allow for movement. The front just reached her knees, revealing white stockings and sparkly silver dancing shoes. The back flared out in a train that ended at the middle of her calves. Blush looked back up at Medda. "Yes, I'm ready." Medda smiled and gave her a quick, but careful squeeze, so as not to disturb her niece's carefully done hair and makeup. Blush hugged her aunt back and smiled. She turned, then climbed carefully up the stairs to her trapeze. As she balanced carefully on her precarious perch she thought of the mystery boy again. She wished she had seen his smile. Suddenly she had a thought. As the trapeze lowered she thought, I'll make him smile, if it's the last thing I do tonight. Max the condictor signaled for her note to be played. She took a deep breat, then sang. "The French are glad to die for love . . ."
*****
Mush was suddenly snapped out of his brooding as the curtain raised to reveal a gorgeous red-head on a trapeze suspended about eight feet above the stage. He watched, captivated, as she began to sing. "The French are glad to die for love. They delight in fighting duels. But I prefer a man who lives, and gives expensive jewels." The orchestra started playing at a lively tempo and the girl did something extraordinary. She spun around full circle on the bar of the trapeze, then she leaned back and simply let go. A horrified gasp rippled over the crowd, Mush included. But she nimbly flipped over and landed lightly on her feet. Mush let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, as she began a flirty, energetic dance number.
A kiss on the hand may be quit continental, But diamonds are a girl's best friend! A kiss may be grand but it won't pay the rental on your humble flat Or help you feed your, mmm, pussy cat! Men grow cold as girls grow old And we all lose our charms in the end. But square cut or pear shaped There rocks don't lose their shape. Diamonds are a girl's best friend! Tiffany! Cartier! Cause we are living in a material world And I am a material girl.
She blew a kiss at the audience, and appeared to be looking right at Mush.
Black Star! Ross Cole! Talk to me Harry Winston, tell me all about it! There may come a time when a lass needs a lawyer, But diamonds are a girl's best friend. There may come a time when a hard boiled employer Think you're "awful nice" But get that ice or else no dice! He's your guy when stocks are high, But beware when they start to descend.
Diamonds are a girl's best, Diamonds area girl's best, Diamond's are a girl's best friend!
Cause that's when those louses Go back to their spouses.
Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend!
As she took a bow, Mush jumped out of his seat, applauding wildly. Thankfully, he wasn't the only one who thought she deserved a standing ovation, otherwise it might have been somewhat embarrassing. As the crowd settled back down, he turned to Jack. "Who was that?" he asked in an awed voice. "Oh, Medda's niece, Blush," he responded casually. "But Medda's making her go by her real name for the show, Skye Larkson, the French Skylark." Mush was puzzled. "Why French?" he asked. Jack shrugged. "Dunno." "Well she's gorgeous, isn't she?" A slow grin spread across Jack's face. "Ye-" He cleared his throat, glancing nervously at the girl beside him. What was her name again? Oh, right, Stress. "I mean, Stress here is much prettier in my opinion," he grinned winningly at the simpering blonde chorus girl, hoping she'd forget his slip up. The cover worked perfectly on the less-than-intelligent girl. "So, umm . . .Jack," Mush began, trying to sound casual. Jack, recognizing the tone of voice Mush used when he wanted something, was instantly wary. "Yeah, Mush?" he responded. "Do you think you could, umm . . . introduce me to her?" Jack relaxed and grinned. "Sure Mush, but what happened to Colette?" he said, referring to the girl Mush had recently been dating. As soon as he said her name, Mush's face fell. Jack cursed himself inwardly. "Oh, geez, Mush I'm sorry. I didn't know. Come on, meeting Blush'll take your mind off your troubles." He got up and Mush followed eagerly. They were joined by Duchess, Spot, and Race, who wanted to say hi to their friend. Peeking behind the curtain, Jack spotted Medda. "Hey, Medda," he called, "Is it all right If we come back?" Medda looked over at him. "We?" Jack pulled the curtain aside to reveal Mush and the others. "Mush here wants to meet Blush." Medda eyes Mush dubiously. She knew his history with girls and she wasn't sure she wanted Blush to meet him, but she could hardly refuse, so she reluctantly ushered the group backstage. "Blush," she called. "You have visitors." "Who is it?" a voice responded from upstairs. "Just Jack and a few of his troublemaking friends," she answered, half- jokingly. "All right, I'm coming down."
*****
Blush smiled at Jack. "Hello, Cowboy. Where's your new girl?" Jack smiled back and leaned over, kissing her hand. Blush noticed someone behind Jack, and looked fully at the person. Her jaw almost dropped. It was her mystery guy! And he looked even better close up. Stop it! she chided herself mentally. Jack followed her gaze. "Oh, this is Mush, Mush, this is Skye Larkson, the French Skylark." Mush smiled at her shyly. She felt her icy composure begin to melt, but said, "How do you do?" She offered her hand. Mush gently shook her hand. So he's gentle as well . . . Mush said hesitantly, "Jack called you Blush. Why?" Blush turned almost rose red in the face as she looked downward. "Oh, it's a nice nickname," he offered. She smiled at him, but kept it subdued. "And how did you acquire you nickname?" Mush turned crimson and mumbled, "I dunno," but Racetrack interrupted cheerfully. "It's cause he's such a softie. He acts tough, but he's really all mush."
Mush looked over at his so-called best friend, his shock and outrage plainly visible. Blush rescued Race by saying, "Well it's no worse than mine." Mush looked at her, then a smile broke onto his face. Race looked at her gratefully over Mush's shoulder. Blush smiled politely at him again, then noticed someone else behind him. She looked over his shoulder. Suddenly her face brightened into a genuine grin as she sqealed out, "Duchess!" The two girls squealed and hugged, then walked off. Duchess kept talking about the show as Blush looked over her shoulder. Mush stood there, looking slightly forlorn. She suddenly blew a kiss to him, then raced up the steps to the dressing rooms.
AN: And the trivia question for the day is: who wrote which parts? I'll tell ya next chapter lol. But you gotta review! Hit the button!
One Week Later
"Heya, Mush," Race greeted his friend smiling, then noticed the hangdog expression Mush was wearing. "Hey, whatsa matter?" he asked, concerened. Mush didn't say anything, just looked even more dejected. "Uh oh," Race said, comprehension dawning, "It happened again, didn't it?" Mush nodded forlornly. "Why do girls always dump me, Race?" Race scuffed his feet against the cobblestones. They had this conversation almost weekly. It was always the same. Mush would meet some pretty girl, fall head over heels for her, get together, declare his love, and get dumped. And every time Race would say, "Well, Mush, it could be that you come on a little strong." And always Mush would say, "But, Race, I can't help it, my feelings just get away from me." But that's not what he said this time. Instead he declared, "You're right. I've had it! Next time I meet a girl I like I won't say I love her till she says she love me." Race looked dubiously at Mush, "Don't you think that might be going a little far?" he asked hesitantly. Mush's face hardened. "No, I can't stand to get my heart broken anymore." Race could forsee trouble coming from this, but he knew Mush wasn't going to give up the idea, so instead of arguing he said, "Come on Mush, let's go to Medda's." Mush agreed and they turned toward Irving Hall.
*****
Blush peeked out from behind the curtain. Sure enough there was a full house. Just as Aunt Medda had promised. She scanned the crowd carelessly. Most of the crowd consisted of guys in newsboy dress. Guys, ha! More like boys, she thought. She had not been impressed with the newsboys she had met. Jack Kelly was ladies man and even now had a new girl at his side, one of Blush's fellow performers, Stress. Blush liked Jack after a while, but mostly for Medda's sake. And Spot . . . she almost let out a growl of anger. Spot had broken her good friend, Duchess' heart. She relaxed as she saw him and Duchess sitting at the center table with Jack's latest flame. Duchess was sitting next to Spot, teasing him. Spot finally leaned over and kissed her, to make her stop. Blush felt a lump in her throat. No one had ever kissed her like that. No one had ever loved her enough to do that. Trying to shake off the feeling, Blush looked towards the door. She suddenly dropped the curtain. She opened it again, peering out at the boy who had just walked in. Blush scolded herself mentally. It's just another guy! And a cute one at that, her devious side thought. She looked even closer. The guy walked up the Jack and waved slightly as he and Racetrack sat down at a table near the bar. Thankfully the guy sat facing the stage. She scanned his features. He sat slightly slumped over, a hand pushing his newsie hat back, as some stubborn dark curls fell in his deep chocolate eyes. His olive-skinned face looked glum as he ordered a drink. Blush knew that when he smiled he would probably look even more handsome. Someone walked up behind her. "Ready, Blush?" Aunt Medda stood there decked out in her usual dress of purple with fancy ornaments. Blush looked down at her simpler dress, regretfully dropping the curtain and her view of the cute guy. She wore a black satin gown, decorated only with embroidered silver stars. The bodice was corseted, supported by tight cap sleeves. The skirt was flowy but not poufy, to allow for movement. The front just reached her knees, revealing white stockings and sparkly silver dancing shoes. The back flared out in a train that ended at the middle of her calves. Blush looked back up at Medda. "Yes, I'm ready." Medda smiled and gave her a quick, but careful squeeze, so as not to disturb her niece's carefully done hair and makeup. Blush hugged her aunt back and smiled. She turned, then climbed carefully up the stairs to her trapeze. As she balanced carefully on her precarious perch she thought of the mystery boy again. She wished she had seen his smile. Suddenly she had a thought. As the trapeze lowered she thought, I'll make him smile, if it's the last thing I do tonight. Max the condictor signaled for her note to be played. She took a deep breat, then sang. "The French are glad to die for love . . ."
*****
Mush was suddenly snapped out of his brooding as the curtain raised to reveal a gorgeous red-head on a trapeze suspended about eight feet above the stage. He watched, captivated, as she began to sing. "The French are glad to die for love. They delight in fighting duels. But I prefer a man who lives, and gives expensive jewels." The orchestra started playing at a lively tempo and the girl did something extraordinary. She spun around full circle on the bar of the trapeze, then she leaned back and simply let go. A horrified gasp rippled over the crowd, Mush included. But she nimbly flipped over and landed lightly on her feet. Mush let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, as she began a flirty, energetic dance number.
A kiss on the hand may be quit continental, But diamonds are a girl's best friend! A kiss may be grand but it won't pay the rental on your humble flat Or help you feed your, mmm, pussy cat! Men grow cold as girls grow old And we all lose our charms in the end. But square cut or pear shaped There rocks don't lose their shape. Diamonds are a girl's best friend! Tiffany! Cartier! Cause we are living in a material world And I am a material girl.
She blew a kiss at the audience, and appeared to be looking right at Mush.
Black Star! Ross Cole! Talk to me Harry Winston, tell me all about it! There may come a time when a lass needs a lawyer, But diamonds are a girl's best friend. There may come a time when a hard boiled employer Think you're "awful nice" But get that ice or else no dice! He's your guy when stocks are high, But beware when they start to descend.
Diamonds are a girl's best, Diamonds area girl's best, Diamond's are a girl's best friend!
Cause that's when those louses Go back to their spouses.
Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend!
As she took a bow, Mush jumped out of his seat, applauding wildly. Thankfully, he wasn't the only one who thought she deserved a standing ovation, otherwise it might have been somewhat embarrassing. As the crowd settled back down, he turned to Jack. "Who was that?" he asked in an awed voice. "Oh, Medda's niece, Blush," he responded casually. "But Medda's making her go by her real name for the show, Skye Larkson, the French Skylark." Mush was puzzled. "Why French?" he asked. Jack shrugged. "Dunno." "Well she's gorgeous, isn't she?" A slow grin spread across Jack's face. "Ye-" He cleared his throat, glancing nervously at the girl beside him. What was her name again? Oh, right, Stress. "I mean, Stress here is much prettier in my opinion," he grinned winningly at the simpering blonde chorus girl, hoping she'd forget his slip up. The cover worked perfectly on the less-than-intelligent girl. "So, umm . . .Jack," Mush began, trying to sound casual. Jack, recognizing the tone of voice Mush used when he wanted something, was instantly wary. "Yeah, Mush?" he responded. "Do you think you could, umm . . . introduce me to her?" Jack relaxed and grinned. "Sure Mush, but what happened to Colette?" he said, referring to the girl Mush had recently been dating. As soon as he said her name, Mush's face fell. Jack cursed himself inwardly. "Oh, geez, Mush I'm sorry. I didn't know. Come on, meeting Blush'll take your mind off your troubles." He got up and Mush followed eagerly. They were joined by Duchess, Spot, and Race, who wanted to say hi to their friend. Peeking behind the curtain, Jack spotted Medda. "Hey, Medda," he called, "Is it all right If we come back?" Medda looked over at him. "We?" Jack pulled the curtain aside to reveal Mush and the others. "Mush here wants to meet Blush." Medda eyes Mush dubiously. She knew his history with girls and she wasn't sure she wanted Blush to meet him, but she could hardly refuse, so she reluctantly ushered the group backstage. "Blush," she called. "You have visitors." "Who is it?" a voice responded from upstairs. "Just Jack and a few of his troublemaking friends," she answered, half- jokingly. "All right, I'm coming down."
*****
Blush smiled at Jack. "Hello, Cowboy. Where's your new girl?" Jack smiled back and leaned over, kissing her hand. Blush noticed someone behind Jack, and looked fully at the person. Her jaw almost dropped. It was her mystery guy! And he looked even better close up. Stop it! she chided herself mentally. Jack followed her gaze. "Oh, this is Mush, Mush, this is Skye Larkson, the French Skylark." Mush smiled at her shyly. She felt her icy composure begin to melt, but said, "How do you do?" She offered her hand. Mush gently shook her hand. So he's gentle as well . . . Mush said hesitantly, "Jack called you Blush. Why?" Blush turned almost rose red in the face as she looked downward. "Oh, it's a nice nickname," he offered. She smiled at him, but kept it subdued. "And how did you acquire you nickname?" Mush turned crimson and mumbled, "I dunno," but Racetrack interrupted cheerfully. "It's cause he's such a softie. He acts tough, but he's really all mush."
Mush looked over at his so-called best friend, his shock and outrage plainly visible. Blush rescued Race by saying, "Well it's no worse than mine." Mush looked at her, then a smile broke onto his face. Race looked at her gratefully over Mush's shoulder. Blush smiled politely at him again, then noticed someone else behind him. She looked over his shoulder. Suddenly her face brightened into a genuine grin as she sqealed out, "Duchess!" The two girls squealed and hugged, then walked off. Duchess kept talking about the show as Blush looked over her shoulder. Mush stood there, looking slightly forlorn. She suddenly blew a kiss to him, then raced up the steps to the dressing rooms.
AN: And the trivia question for the day is: who wrote which parts? I'll tell ya next chapter lol. But you gotta review! Hit the button!