FicWad

All I see are the bright, sparkling chandeliers and the assortment of colors in the lobby. In front of me is a check in desk that's made of perfect marble. A jolly, middle-aged man named Bubba stands behind it manning the station. He sees me and flashes a smile.

"Delia, darling," he chimes. He walks around the front desk and opens his arm for a welcoming hug.

"Bubba, dear!" I exclaim. I jog to him with open arms and jump into his embrace. He picks me up and twirls me around and sets me back down on my feet. Bubba lets go of me, fixes his peach colored tie, and straightens out his bronze-sand shiny sharkskin suit with pants to match.

"How are you, Miss Delia?" He always calls me by my stage name. He calls all his queens by their stage names partly because he doesn't know our real names. He brushes his salt and pepper hair to the side of his face and blinks at me waiting for an answer.

I nod. "I am well! I’ve been well.” I weave my arm in his and look up at him. “How are you doing this night? How are things looking tonight?” I ask.

He gets someone to watch the front desk. He calls for a worker by the name of Leroy. “Leroy, lad, come here and man the front desk for the rest of the night,” he commands. “Yes, sir,” Leroy replies.

We begin to walk down the hall. Bubba turns around. “Thank you, son. After your shift, go to the bar and indulge in a glass of fine wine or a bottle of hardy beer. It’s on the house,” he alleges.

A wide grin takes over Leroy’s face. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” His head bobs up and down in happiness. I can tell he’s a new worker.

I slip my arm out of Bubba’s for a moment and walk over to Leroy. I hold my index finger up and word, “One moment.” to Bubba. I directly look into Leroy’s green eyes and say to him, “You’re new here, aren’t you? I don’t recognize your face. Don’t worry about Bubba. He’s a great guy, a great boss, and a great friend. He wouldn’t dare harm a fly.” I purse my lips at him. “You’ll do just fine tonight. Enjoy the atmosphere. This is only the most popular and pristine cabaret in town. There’s a reason why it’s named The Cabaret.” I close the gap between us and place a hand on his strong bicep. “It’s so great here that we don’t need any additives to the name. It’s straight to the point. Of course that may be the bias in me." I pause. "I really do love this place.” I stroke his arm and bat my eyelashes at him.

I see his lips curve up and his teeth became visible. I could see him slightly relax. “You’re right, Miss. I am new here. You’ve got quite the hawk’s eye. Thank you for the advice and insight,” he softly says. He takes my hand in his and plants a warm, quick kiss. “Leroy Manson, Madame,” he formally introduces himself. That’s the kind of finesse the boy needs to carry on to have for the rest of the night. Hell, for the rest of his career life here at The Cabaret!

I blush. “Pleased to met you. I’m Delia Devereaux.” I bow my head and curtsy. “I’ll leave you to your peace. I have a show to get to. Come watch me sometime, Mister Leroy.” I give his hand a squeeze and we part ways. I turn my head to look at him, and he coolly raises one of his eyebrows almost hidden behind that thick, mahogany brown hair of his. He lifts a side of his mouth in a half smile, and it about melts my heart. I hope he watches me perform sometime, I say in my head.

I reconnect my arm with Bubba’s. He escorts me to my dressing room just like he does every night. “Deciding to get a little friendly tonight, are we?” He jokes.

“I’m just making him feel welcome to this beautiful establishment you’ve produced,” I chirp. I nudge him with my elbow and laugh.

“Well said, Miss Delia. Well said.” He laughs back. “To answer your earlier questions, I’ve been extremely well. Life is a bucket of fun and surprises,” he dramatizes. “Thank you for asking. We have an exceptional number of guests here tonight waiting to see you ladies put on a show. I’ve been hearing some special requests for you,” he adds.

“Oh, really?” I say with nonchalance. Inwardly, I’m ecstatic. “I’ll do you proud. Don’t you fret,” I cajole.

“I know you will. You always do,” Bubba says matter of factly.

We walk down the main hall and pass by a boutique full of masks and attire for men and women. I love going in there and looking at all the new costumes. There is a designated area in the boutique dedicated to the women who perform. I’ll have to check the boutique before I leave and see what’s in stock.

We arrive in front of my room. Two curvaceous gold D’s hang on the door’s hook indicating that this is indeed my dressing room. “I better let you pamper yourself before you get on stage.” He pulls me in for a loving hug. “Have fun and work your magic,” he whispers. He pats my back and walks back the way we came.

I enter my dressing room and turn on the lights. I set my bag on the tabletop and walk to my closet. Eyeing my closet, I pick my outfit for the night, a bustier that compliments my flashy mask. I undo the tie on my robe and let it fall to the ground and shimmy into my fitted bustier. It can be a drag to put some of these outfits on. I grab my black thigh high vertical stripe, lace top stockings, and slip them on each leg. I sit in front of my three-panel mirror and check my face in every angle. My makeup is fine. My hair is in place and is firmly sculpted on my head. The costume looks good. My mask is aligned. I shuffle through my bag searching for my ruby lipstick.

“Where are you, bloody little tube of lipstick?” I mutter to myself. After much muddling, my hand grabs ahold of the tube and pulls it out of the bag in victory. Each showgirl has her own shade for lip wear. We didn’t get to pick the color. Bubba takes note and examines each pair of lips and decides which color would appear most tasteful on them. Back when I first started working here, he picked out my color and said to me, “Ahh, darling. Ruby would suit you flawlessly. That deep, soulful red counteracting your pearly white teeth is just splendid. It’s just a jewelry affair for you. You’re a jewel, and it deserves to be shown.” I smile back at the thought. I’ve been wearing ruby ever since that day.

I remove the cap
and apply it to my lips. I pucker at the mirror. I’m now ready.

I shake my hands and give spirit fingers to my reflection. “It’s show time!” I exclaim.


(Again, another thanks! I reviewed this portion, so hopefully there aren't any mistakes! If there are any, I apologize. Reviews and thoughts are always welcome. Don't hesitate. :D)