1The sign over the door read "Backstage Only" and it nearly fell down as Olaf slammed the door behind him. Violet looked up, silent. She had been waiting here as instructed for what seemed like hours. The cold had turned her fingers and toes numb. Olaf's face was a mask of fury.
"It's time to go." He said at last.
"I want to say goodbye." Violet said through her tears.
"Come on." He said, grabbing her by the arm. "This has been a disaster of a performance, I just want to go home and sleep it off."
"I want to say goodbye to my brother." Violet insisted, digging her heels in. Olaf ignored her, and began to walk faster.
Klaus struggled to keep up, holding onto their baby sister at the same time.
The limo rumbled at the end of the alley, like a horse pawing the ground, inpatient.
"Please, just let me say goodbye to my brother and sister! Olaf, please!" Violet pleaded, her fingernails digging into Olaf's arm as he dragged her towards the waiting limousine.
"Violet, wait!" Klaus cried. "I'll find you! I promise I'll come for you!"
Violet twisted to get a last glimpse of her brother, tears of streaming down her face as Olaf opened the door and shoved her in.
"Wait here orphan, I'll be right back."
He slammed the door on the hem of Violet's dress, tearing it with a loud rip. She bent down to examine it, and stopped. What the hell... Violet's hand touched something small and hard, cold metal. She picked it up. It was a bullet.
Her heart rose into her throat and Violet began to pound more frantically on the door, shaking the handle desperately.
"Olaf, don't do it please I'll give you anything you want just don't-"
BANG!
Violet released her grip on the door handle. She sank back into her seat, silent.
She didn't want to know which sibling it was.
The sun was coming up.
Violet rolled over and squinted through the smudged window. The sky was dull and heavy, the street glistening with the morning's drizzled rain. An entirely miserable day. Violet sighed and after a moment, she stretched. As usual, her muscles ached from the previous days' work, and as she looked down she realized she had lost a sock during her nightmare. The dream had shaken her, crept into her unconscious without warning. Thirteen seemed a very long way away, as if the whole thing, her whole life up until then, had just been a dream. Violet frowned. She had never liked that song, not even as a child.
Now she was a woman of twenty three, with a proud and graceful bearing, large eyes and dark hair barely that swept the top of her backside. Over the years the constant scrubbing floors and carrying buckets had turned the small amount of baby fat on her body to taut muscle.
As she stood and examined herself in the full length mirror, Violet couldn't help but cheer up a little. She had turned out, in a word, gorgeous. Not bad for two kids. As if on cue, the sound of wailing echoed through the mansion. Violet groaned inwardly, and she took off her remaining sock. Life was but a dream indeed.
In the mornings the house was like ice, the smell of dust and smoke crystalized by the chill in the air. Violet was used to the cold. She padded down the hall in her panties and undershirt, stopping at her husband's door to shut it as carefully as possible.
As if he knew what she was doing, the baby began to cry louder.
"Yes Nicky, I'm coming. Try to be patient, it won't-"
Violet froze in the doorway. A tall figure was bent over her son's cradle, murmuring something in his ear.
"Esme, do you need something?" Violet finally said.
Esme stood up and turned around, a smile spreading across her lipsticked mouth. "Just checking on the baby."
Violet swallowed hard. Suddenly she was very aware of her lack of clothing.
"Nice panties." Esme chuckled. "Get dressed before Olaf sees you like that. You're liable to get a beating like you've never experienced."
Violet could feel the blood pounding in her temples.
How dare she.
Her fist tightened but Violet resisted the temptation. Instead, she bit her tongue, picked up her son, and headed to do as Esme had told her.
As she stepped off the last stair, Violet smoothed the front of her skirt, and gathered her courage. It was a form fitting pastel number, tasteful and practical and very expensive, like most of the clothes she owned. It was a far cry from Mrs. Poe's hand-me-downs. Hopefully Olaf would appreciate it, even if baby pink was her absolute least favorite color. Nikolai was gurgling away, relatively content to crawl around the dusty front parlor while his mother hurried to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for her husband and the troupe.
Violet stepped into the kitchen, and stopped. Olaf was up and awake, a surprise at six in the morning. He was drinking what looked like scotch on the rocks and scribbling something on a well worn notepad. Lucafont was sitting beside him as usual, watching intently.
"Tell your girlfriend to keep her hands off my baby."
Olaf looked up from his scribbling, but said nothing.
"I'm not joking. I'll knock her teeth down her throat. I don't care if she pays the bills or not."
Lucafont snorted, Olaf sighed.
"How old is it now?"
"He'll be two in a few days. I thought I might take him for a ride later, if it's all right with-"
"-I don't care what you do with him." Olaf interrupted. "Just keep him quiet this afternoon, the troupe and I have something important to plan."
Violet nodded. "I will, it's just...it's almost Nicky's birthday, I thought maybe..."
"You want money."
"Two hundred."
Olaf sighed, and rubbed the back of his head uneasily. "Violet, where do you think I would get that sort of money?"
Violet shrugged. "From Esme. You could borrow it, and we'll pay her back."
"I hate borrowing money, Violet."
"I hate our son going without clothes another three months."
"Violet, we..." Olaf didn't finish. After an long silence, he stood up and walked out.
Violet flopped down in the chair beside Lucafont, who shook his head.
"Good luck on that one. She's still sore about where the last five hundred she gave him went."
"Quiet." Violet whispered, glaring at the henchman.
"You know he's going deaf as a post. Villains don't age very well, I should know."
Violet made a face. "Didn't he...I don't know...steal my family's fortune? What happened to that?"
Lucafont shrugged. "Where does money go these days? This mansion, piece of shit that it is. That car you drive, I know. I'm still waiting for my share. You want to get on the mopping now? I'm supposed to be on your back about it, so to speak."
Violet smiled. "You can ride my back anytime."She replied, winking.
"Dirty girl. Go mop."
"You're coming to dinner tonight, I assume."
"Of course."
"Good. I'll see you then."
Without another word she picked up her mop.
Time to go to work.