Marguerite Blakeney is clearly beyond scruples (![]() ![]() @ 2021-02-16 18:54:00 |
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Michael didn’t really have friends. Life was just easier when you didn’t get attached to anyone. And yet somehow he had gotten him invited to one of his coworker’s bachelor parties. He tried to turn it down but his coworkers wouldn’t have it. They knew he had no other plans. Which he didn’t. Well unless you counted going to the nearest dive bar and wasting his night away. So here he was at a bachelor party, in a burlesque club.
Well at least there was alcohol.
Michael was barely paying attention to the dancers, or the men surrounding him, instead just focussing on his drinks. That was until a red headed dancer got his attention. She looked vaguely familiar. Michael couldn’t take his eyes off her, trying to figure out why she seemed so familiar. He vaguely recalled the announcer saying something about the next act being French. That was when it donned on him.
Marguerite.
Michael blinked as he processed that information, eyes still on the dancer. The last time he had seen her she was what? Eight years old? That couldn’t be the little foster sister he remembered. Could it?
From the City of Love to the City of Sin, the Chanteuse of Love and Desire. Might as well play up that French connection after all. Did it matter that Marguerite had still been quite young when she and her family had moved from Paris to Las Vegas? No. It was a good introduction and while the French accent had faded over the years, it was still very much a part of her. And she always made sure that - earlier shows or later shows as each had a distinctly different feel - that the illusion and theme remained the same.
Nor would she be all too concerned if told someone in the audience was staring. It was part of the job. It was when they tried to get too handsy or push the boundaries where the bouncers became necessary. But just staring? Well, wasn’t that the point? She’d be doing something wrong if that weren’t the case.
Under the lights, with glitter and fake eyelashes and stage makeup, it was as if she were another person. It wasn’t the same as when she was in a show as an actual character but the feeling was all the same. She lost herself in the song and dance and pieces of costume that fell away until the end of her number, with a playful wink and it was off stage with her.
And she wouldn’t have to perform again until later, which meant that she had some time. There of course was the normal routine, proper vocal care and stretches for the dance. What could or could not be eaten. But she wasn’t hungry and the chatter of the dressing room was oddly grating that evening. It happened though, for as friendly as she could be, there were just the days when it was too much and so getting out of what remained of her costume, Marguerite put on the dress she’d shown up in, hair still covered in glitter and made her way outside with her water bottle. Always in view of the bouncer at the door but at least there was some space and air.
Before he knew it she was done, off the stage. And he still wasn’t certain she was who he thought she was. It had been fifteen years or so since he last saw her. But he still couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that it was Marguerite.
Michael didn’t pay attention to the next act, not that he had been paying attention before the girl that might be Marguerite anyway. He finished off his drink, making his way over to the bar to get another. That was when he saw her out in the club. Fresh drink in hand Michael made his way over. He wasn’t exactly sure what to say without sounding like a complete creep. Especially if she wasn’t Marguerite. Or hell maybe even if she was.
“Hey,” he settled on. It wasn’t much but hopefully it would give him a better idea of what was appropriate.
Marguerite was used to being approached. Just like being stared at, it came with the job and she was very good at being at ease around those who came up to her. She got no warning vibes off the guy who was approaching her. Maybe an ever slight twinge of….something she couldn’t place. Familiarity?
Then again she saw and interacted with so many people in her life that it wouldn’t be remotely shocking if she somehow knew the man who had just come up.
So instead, the red head just gave a small smile and nodded.
“Hello.”
Might as well see what happened and if it turned handsy, well, that was where the bouncers came in.
Michael thought he saw a glimmer of recognition in her eyes but he wasn’t sure. He could be imagining it all. He was sure she had men coming up to her all the time, with being a performer and all. So he still wasn’t exactly sure how to go about this.
He took a breath and decided to just go for it. “This is probably going to sound kind of weird,” Michael began. “But did you ever spend any time in foster care?” If not well he just sounded like an idiot. Oh well. Michael wasn’t really the type to give a shit what people thought of him.
Sometimes just going for it was all there was to do. And when one started with ‘this is probably going to sound weird’, Marguerite always made sure to brace herself. The comments could either range from her reminding them of someone (she always reminded people of someone) usually in an attempt to flirt, or some really weird thing. But asking about foster care?
“I…” Blinking some, Marguerite had to pause as she got her bearings straight on that one, “That is definitely a new one. But I did, yes.”
So she got approached a lot. Michael wasn’t surprised. But that definitely wasn’t what this was. He didn’t walk up to burlesque performers and hit on them. Especially not ones he thought might have been his foster sibling.
“Me too,” he explained so he didn’t come off like a stalker. “Were you ever in a home with Megan?” he asked, referring to the foster mom of the home he was pretty sure Marguerite shared with him briefly.
The explanation wasn’t terribly shocking. After all, how many people asked if you were in the foster system? Of course, the next question was why he would have thought that. Only for him to ask her a second question as well which answered her own.
“Dieu, I haven’t thought of her in years….that was what, fifteen years ago, maybe the first or second home I was in?”
And that was when it had dawned.
“...Michael…?”
Given she and Armand had been a pair despite all odds, there couldn’t have been too many kids at the time.
Michael was relieved when she said his name. It would have been awkward if she wasn’t Marguerite. It was kind of awkward as it was, honestly.
“Yeah,” Michael confirmed. “It’s definitely been awhile.” About fifteen years or so as she said. “You uh, doing okay?” As in was her entire life okay, since the last time he saw her.
Oh it was definitely awkward. The only way that this could have been more awkward for Marguerite would have been if Armand had been there. That was basically her worst case scenario when it came to someone showing up at the burlesque club.
So she nodded at the confirmation about it being a while.
“Yeah, I’m doing okay.” At present anyway, “You?”
“Same,” Michael replied. It had been a long road to where he was now but he had survived it all. And now he even had a pretty decent job.
“I’m actually here for my coworker’s bachelor party,” he explained. Because he didn’t usually go to places like this. Though he wasn’t sure Marguerite needed the explanation. “You been working here long?”
The important part at the end of the day was surviving. It was all any of them could do really. So she nodded at his answer. His explanation was unnecessary because well, people came to burlesque clubs. If they didn’t, she wouldn’t be working there. Still, she did smile faintly at the explanation.
Even if it gave one more horror scenario that Armand could show up there for something similar.
“It’s probably been a year I think?” It was hard to keep track of anything time related. It just all blurred together. “The schedule is open enough that when I’m involved in a show I don’t work as many shifts but it’s still here when the show ends.”
“A show?” he asked curiously. Wasn’t this a show in a way? There was a bit more of a performance to it than at a strip club at least. Not that Michael spent much time there either. He didn’t see the point really. He never had trouble finding a hook up when he wanted one. What was the point in staring at practically naked women and men that he couldn’t touch? “Seperate from this?” he asked, making a sweeping gesture towards the stage.
She probably should have expected that. It was true the performances of the dancers were shows. The early and late ones, each different. So instead, Marguerite nodded, “I also do musical theatre. So that’s what I meant by being in a show.”
“Ah,” Michael commented, everything clicking into place now. “I feel like I remember you singing a lot.” Songs that he had never heard of before that he could only assume were from musicals. He was happy for her, that she was able to perform in them now. Though that was even less his thing then a burlesque club. But maybe he would have to go sometime to support her.
“That sounds about right.” True, it had been high school when she had found her reprieve in theatre as what had initially been a throw away class to fill the time, but she’d always been musically inclined as a child. So her randomly singing, especially in the early years? That tracked. Random French songs, songs to calm down Armand, whatever was on her mind or that she heard. Even so, she’d always been drawn like a moth to the flame to anything related to performing. Even when that flame was always nearly extinguished.
“Good for you,” Michael said with a genuine smile on his face. Just then he heard a loud whooping from a few of his coworkers. “Remind me to never attend a bachelor party again,” he said to Marguerite with a smirk. “I should probably get back there before they think you’re up for talking to a bunch of drunk assholes.” Which she technically was doing, but he actually knew her at least.
The whooping was met with an eye roll. Oh, Marguerite was used to it. And sometimes she did enjoy flirting with people who showed up depending on what was going on. But this was an unexpected reunion. Even so, she nodded.
“I’ll be sure to do that. And probably a good idea. No need for them to get thrown out by making the bouncer twitchy if they all came over.”
Folding her hair behind her ear, Marguerite smiled some.
“It was good to see you again.”
“You too. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” Burlesque clubs still weren’t his thing but he would be back if only to get Marguerite’s contact information to stay in touch. Well if she wanted to of course. He wasn’t about to ask for it now in case his coworkers were watching. The last thing he needed was for them to read anything into the situation and think they could get her or any of the other dancers’ numbers too. He gave her one last smile before heading back to the bachelor party.