One Last Time
What happened to Amos after the trial?
Disclaimer: I do not own Chicago or any of its characters. Someone else is making money off it, not me ... I just wish I was.
Bang! Bang! Bang!The sole man to not follow the exhilarated crowd rushing outside shrunk back in his seat and tried to ignore the bumps and shoves he received. Nobody gave him as much as a glance as the multitude of bodies moved as one towards the exit.
"First she shoots the husband, then she plugs the lawyer!"The calls of excited reporters echoed throughout the rapidly emptying room, and still, the solitary figure sat there, waiting. He didn't notice so much being ignored, it was the norm for Amos Hart. Sure, he despised it, but it was routine and there is comfort in routine, no matter how horrible. He didn't care about fame, he didn't care about money ... all he cared about was the distraught young woman frantically talking to her lawyer."But my publicity, Billy! My name in all the papers?"
Amos's heart went out to Roxie. She has been through so much, he thought. He smiled as he thought of how much she loved him – she had said so when she was on the stand. And the baby ... he smiled again at the thought of being the father of the child of the woman he had been utterly devoted to for longer than he could remember.
Amos watched tenderly as his distressed wife stared after her lawyer, Billy Flynn, as he casually walked out of the courtroom. It had cost Amos dearly to hire him, but it was worth every last cent now that Roxie was free. Apart from the last four weeks, when he had tried to divorce her for her infidelity, Amos had spent the long months while Roxie was in prison pining for her. He wasn't entirely sure she always returned his love, but now, finally, she was coming home. Her touching speech reassured Amos beyond all doubt that she really did love him.
"They didn't even want my picture!"
Amos looked over at Roxie, waiting for her to notice him. Finally, she did.
"What do you want?"
"I want you to come home," Amos replied gently. "You said you still wanted to. And the baby—"
"Baby? What baby?" Roxie cut him off irritably, before comprehension dawned on her face. "Oh, what do you take me for? There ain't no baby!"
"There ain't no baby?" Amos repeated, bewildered.
Roxie shook her head, and then returned to staring out the window at the young murderess being escorted into a police van and the throng of reporters crowded around her.
"Why didn't they even want my picture?" she lamented. "I – I just can't understand that!"
Amos simply stared at Roxie for a while, before realising what had just happened. She could not have hurt him more if she had ripped out his heart and flung it across the floor. Cellophane, he thought. I'm Mr. Cellophane. Dejectedly, he picked up his hat and slowly left the courtroom, leaving Roxie to stare out the window.
A month later
In the early hours of the morning, Amos woke up. Ever since Roxie's trial, he hadn't seen her. Despite the hurt, he was trying to put her behind him, but he never could. Roxie ... a memory now that he desperately wanted to forget, but a tiny piece of his mind still hung on. Nevertheless, still clinging to the only constant thing in his life, routine, he got up, got dressed and prepared to leave for work. He grabbed the mail out of his letterbox as he left the apartment, looking through the bills as he walked along the street until a brightly coloured flyer caught his eye. He almost dropped it in his disbelief.
For the first time the Chicago Theatre is proud to present
Roxie Hart & Velma Kelly!
Amos didn't read anymore. He gave a small smile – Roxie had her dream. She had wanted to perform at the Onyx, but the Chicago Theatre ... it was better than everything she wanted. Amos smiled more broadly as he remembered how her face lit up when she heard jazz music ... now she would be in the spotlight. Maybe I'll go see her, he thought, before being on the receiving end of a hard bump in the side.
"Oh, sorry, didn't see you."
Cellophane, Amos thought again.
A week later
Again, Amos rose early to go to work. Again, he got dressed and riffled through the mail as he walked out the door. And for the second time, a certain paper caught his eye. A different kind of envelope. He opened it curiously, hardly expecting what he found. A note from Roxie.
Amos,
I'm sorry about this. I met someone else. Please sign these.
Roxie Peters
Mystified, Amos looked at the next page, hurt by Roxie's use of her maiden name. What he found shook him badly. Divorce papers. Tears welling in his eyes, he picked up a pen and shakily signed his name. All Amos wanted was for Roxie to be happy ... and if that meant divorcing her, so be it.
Another week later
Two young women rose onto the stage. Dressed in long white coats, they began to sing. The melody washed over Amos. He was only concentrating on one thing: Roxie. How she smiled at Velma, the funny way her eyes twinkled in the spotlight ... he could go on forever. Mesmerised, he watched her sing, then shed her coat to reveal a skimpy silver dress ... and then she danced. As though in a trance, barely hearing the music, Amos watched Roxie dance. Like an angel just out of his grasp, he watched her. He knew she cared nothing for him now, he could have vanished off the face of the earth and she wouldn't notice. Cellophane, he thought, the word had become his mantra. But still he stayed, he had to see her.
One last time.