A couple of days passed since I showed up on my aunt and uncle's doorstep with nothing more than my name and a small satchel of belongings, but I was beginning to finally set in. I took several walks up and down the street of our neighborhood we lived in, taking in my new home. The summer air wafted around me as I walked, and I loved the feeling of the sun on my face.

Auntie Romelda brought home to me several dresses from one of her many outings to the city, all of which were unlike any of the dresses I had previously worn before. But, as I walked down the street, I'd be lying if I said a large part of me didn't miss the feeling of pants.

Once I had made it back home and had curled up in the sitting room with a novel, my aunt came into the room.

"(Y/N), phone for you."

I looked up at her. "We have a phone?"

She laughed a bit, nodding. "We do. Now, come on. There's a woman on the line for you."

She turned back to the hall she came from, and I curiously followed her into the hall. She handed me both pieces to the phone, one for my ear and one to speak into. I did as she instructed, and spoke into it. "Hello? This is (Y/N)."

"(Y/N)!" came a chipper voice from the other side, and I immediately knew I was speaking to Melody. A smile came to my lips. "How're ya doin', doll?"

"I'm doing well, how about yourself?"

"Oh, just swell, just swell. Say, what're your plans for the evening?"

I glanced over to my aunt, asking her in a hushed tone if we had any plans for the night. She shook her head in reply.

"I don't think I have any plans for tonight. Why do you ask?"

"I wanna take ya out! I promised I would, and I'm a girlie of my word. So what do ya say?"

I chuckled a bit. "Sounds fun, Melody. What time?"

"How's about five o'clock?"

"Sounds great."

"Swell! I'll come pick ya up, then."

"You mean Harv will pick me up?"

I could hear the smile in her response. "Now you're on the trolley!"

It was five o'clock on the dot when Harv and Melody pulled up to the curb outside of the house. I was already waiting for them, hair pinned back and satchel in hand. I was giddy with excitement but also a little apprehensive. I hadn't ventured back into the bustle of the city since I had first arrived, and I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't nervous about the prospect. All the same, I was elated to spend more time with the first friend I had made since my younger childhood days.

Melody threw open the passenger door in the back from her spot behind Harv's driver seat. She waved to me.

"Come on, (Y/N)! Let's get a move on!" She grinned.

I smiled back, laughing a bit and sliding into the seat next to her before shutting the door behind me. Harv, who was wearing a cap this evening, tipped the brim as he looked at me in the rearview mirror. I gave him a friendly nod in exchange.

"So, where are we going tonight, Melody?" I asked my companion curiously.

She lit up. "I'm takin you to the Poor Man's Print Parlor."

I arched an eyebrow. "You're taking me to a poor man's newspaper shop?" I asked her, almost disbelieving. "Is this what Americans do for fun?"

She scoffed, shoving my arm playfully. "No, doll! The print shop is just the cover. It's actually a juice joint."

My eyebrows shot up. "A speakeasy?" I asked in a hushed voice as Melody nodded.

"You betcha! And it's the best one around, if you ask me!"

Harv rolled his eyes up front. "Mel, you say that because you work there."

She slapped his shoulder, not even looking his way. "Oh hush, Harv. Besides, even if I'm biased, doesn't matter if it's true."

I had heard of speakeasies before from my uncle. Apparently alcohol had been outlawed in the States, so people resorted to their debauchery in secret. I didn't really understand why exactly alcohol had been banned as it had, but all the same, apparently the industry was still being kept very alive and well. I glanced at Melody, the pit in my stomach growing a bit.

"Won't we get in trouble?" I asked her, wringing my hands.

She smiled reassuringly at me. "Oh, sweetheart, it'll be fine. We're not gonna have any trouble. Trust me. Just stick with me, and you'll be just right as rain!"

And even though I still had a slightly bad feeling about it all, I decided I would suck it up and go along with Melody. I wanted to prove I wasn't just a scared little girl from Italy, even if that's all that I felt that I was, at times. I wanted to assimilate myself to the rhythm and culture of the US, and that wasn't going to happen if I continually hid behind my hands and looked the opposite direction of any sort of risk or adventure. I had to let go and live a little bit. Even Aunt Romelda had agreed with me on that.

"Hey, I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, alright, (Y/N)?" Melody said to me, grasping my hand in hers. I looked over at her kind face and smiled a small smile.

"I know."

Harv dropped us off a little ways from the actual shop, since we didn't want to bring any attention to ourselves and the print store. With a parting wave from Melody and me, the cab and cabby sped away, on to other patrons needing a ride to who-knows-where. I looked over to my friend. "Well, where now?"

She smiled and waved for me to follow her. "Come on; I'll have to introduce you to Johnny up front."

I nodded and followed her, weaving between people and their cases and purses alike. I was especially careful to avoid bumping into any of the cases, as I knew they sometimes had dirt or other debris on them from sitting on the ground. I had donned my favorite dress, a (Y/F/C) one that rested just above my knees, with a (COLOR) scarf wrapped around my neck and draped over my shoulders. I adjusted the pins in my hair, hoping to make a good impression on Melody's other friends. My companion seemed to sense my nerves, and looked over at me.

"Relax, doll. They're gonna love you. Besides, you might meet someone," she told me, grinning and bumping my arm with her shoulder.

I glanced at her. "You think?"

She smiled, shrugging her shoulders. "Who knows?"

With that optimistic thought, we finally came to the newspaper shop. The faded sign on the facade read "Poor Man's Print Parlor", as Melody had said earlier. The paint was peeling, and the windows looked as if they hadn't seen a good cleaning in years. The wood on the door was cracked and rough to the touch. A bell rung as Melody pushed it open.

"Johnny! You in here?" she called, glancing at the space around us.

I did the same, taking note of the smell of ink, paper, and dust. I could tell which parts of the shop were used often and which had been neglected in the day-to-day business. I wondered how much legitimate business this shop actually did. Certainly not enough to keep the business afloat, that much was apparent.

A salt-and-pepper-headed man shuffled to the front, pulling his cap onto his head. "You're a little late, Mel."

She flippantly waved a hand. "Maude's coverin' for me. I'm here to show my new gal friend here a good time," she replied, smiling and looping her arm through mine. I smiled nervously at Johnny as he raked a scrutinizing glance over me.

"She gonna squeal?"

Melody shook her head. "No, sir! She actually smuggled her way over here from Italy, so she knows a thing or two about keepin' secrets."

That earned a slightly impressed nod from Johnny, and I found myself sighing in relief.

"Alright, well, head on down," the man told us, flipping a latch under the counter. A doorway hidden in the wall popped open, swinging inward. I heard music and conversation faintly drifting out from the passage beyond.

"Thanks, Johnny," Melody said in parting to the man up front, grabbing my hand and leading me down the passage and the stairs past the secret door.

The two of us emerged from the hallway into a large lounge complete with a bar and stage. I looked around at all of the patrons. The majority were men, but I also noticed a few women at the bar, as well. Onstage, a dark-haired woman with long legs and a champagne dress adorned with all sorts of tassels danced and sang, her mellow voice filling the room.

"Well, welcome to Poor Man's Print Parlor," Melody said to me, smiling and gesturing grandly. "Ever been to something like this, before?"

I shook my head. "I haven't. I was never allowed to go to places like this back in Italy. The taverns and pubs there were typically occupied by the soldiers stationed in the area and local drunks. Not a great place for a young, single woman, to be sure."

Melody nodded. "I hear that. Well, you don't have to worry about that around here, doll. If anyone bothers you, you just let me know and we'll have Moe throw 'em out."

I arched an eyebrow at her. "Who's Moe?"

My companion jerked a thumb toward the bar where a hulking man stood behind the counter, cleaning glasses and pouring drinks. "That's Moe, the bartender. He's a vet from the World War. Lost his leg to a land mine and got discharged."

I stared at the man. "Oh, wow."

She nodded. "Long as Moe's around, we girls don't gotta worry about some creep messin' with us."

I smiled. "That's good. So, you work here, huh?"

"Yep!" she said, leading me over to a cushy love seat to the left of the lounge and fairly close to the stage. "Been an entertainer here for around two years, now. I've loved it."

"Have you always wanted to be an entertainer?"

She chuckled a bit, shaking her head. "No, actually. An old flame of mine always raved about how I needed to go on Broadway or somethin'." She shrugged. "Never really believed him, but when I was a waitress at the diner up on the corner we passed earlier, scout for the Parlor offered me a job here singin' and dancin'. I got outta there and ended up here. I like it a lot better than smellin' like grits and grease all the time."

I laughed a bit at her humor. "I can imagine. I'm glad you're doing something you truly enjoy."

She nodded thoughtfully as an attendant came up to us. "I really do. Oh, let's order some drinks. What do you want?"

I shook my head. "I don't drink, but I'll take a water, if that's possible."

She smiled and nodded. "Of course!"

She ordered a water for me and a fruity cocktail for herself, crossing her legs and lighting a cigarette. We watched the girl onstage as she performed another song, this one a bit more upbeat than the last. I nodded my head and tapped my foot.

"She's really good," I commented to Melody. She smiled and nodded in agreement.

"That's Maude. She's the one coverin' for me tonight."

"Ah, I see."

"Yeah, she's actually on her way to becoming a star. Had a few record execs come by and look at her."

"Oh wow," I breathed, impressed as I watched her. "She'd definitely fit the starlet role."

"That's exactly what I said to her."

The attendant, a short brunette girl with freckles dotting her face like stars, came back to us with our drinks, setting them on the low table in front of us.

"Hey, Lucy, you heard from Jasmine today?" my friend asked her before she could walk away.

She shook her head ruefully. "None of us have. She called yesterday sayin' she's still sick, but Jenny thinks she's run off with that Rutherford fella that always calls on her after her shows." The attendant, Lucy, shrugged. "I just wish she'd shoot us straight so we can find a replacement."

Melody nodded. "You're right about that." She turned to me abruptly. "You sing, (Y/N)?"

I laughed nervously, shaking my head quickly. "Oh, no no no, just for fun. Stages aren't my scene, ladies."

Melody frowned a bit and Lucy sighed. "A shame. You're pretty enough for it, for sure," the latter told me, turning back to my blonde friend sitting next to me. "We're having to scramble to find someone to fill her slot, but everyone else is already booked or out."

"Well now I feel bad for takin' the day off," Melody responded, frowning thoughtfully.

Lucy shook her head. "Hey, don't do that, Mel. It's your night off, try to enjoy it. Don't worry about us, we'll be fine."

"Hey!" my friend said suddenly, lighting up and leaning forward in her seat. "Have you guys asked Law, yet?"

Lucy sighed. "We were goin' to, but he's not back from the run, yet. You know he got into a scrape with Marty's boys last weekend; we're hopin' he's just late and not bumped off in a ditch somewhere."

I blinked a bit as I glanced between the two women talking. I was still new to learning all of the slang and lingo of New York, but I knew enough to pick up the main idea of the conversation. This Law guy was one of the men who smuggled liquor into the speakeasy, and he might be dead. The onslaught of information was enough to make my head swim. I had never been much for peril or violence, and those two things were certainly themes of this speakeasy's business, from what I gathered. I was broken from my slightly panicked musings when Melody stood, tugging my arm as she did so. I stood as well, looking to her quizzically.

"Come on, (Y/N). We're gonna head backstage for just a minute to see if we can help with anything."

"Oh, okay," I said, following her and Lucy over to the right of the bar and through a doorway covered by a maroon-colored curtain.

The three of us traveled a short ways down a hallway before it curved to the left, and I realized we were directly behind the stage, now. Dressing rooms lined the right side of the hall away from the stage, and vanities fit with bulbs around the mirrors sat staggered out in the hall. Racks of dresses, costumes, and all sorts of feathers lined every bit of free space possible. With the racks, vanities, and girls running around, the whole thing felt a bit claustrophobic. I noticed a tall, slender man in a suit and tie was running around frantically, flitting between this girl and that, speaking in a rushed way and looking unbelievably stressed. He made eye contact with Melody, and surged toward her.

"Mel! I really need ya to do me a solid, here, doll."

Before he could say another word, she held up her hand. "Look, Link, it's my night off, and I don't have anything prepped. Not to mention I didn't bring any of my makeup with me. So I can't perform for ya, but I can help the other girls with costume changes, wardrobe malfunctions, things like that."

Clearly displeased with this answer, Link's gaze moved from her over to me. "Who's this?" he asked.

"Oh, this is a friend of mine. And showbiz ain't her thing, so don't even try to weasel a showgirl agreement outta her." The hopeful glint in his eyes was quickly extinguished in disappointment.

"Why even bring her back here, then?" he asked Melody rudely.

"Didn't want to leave her in a room full of strangers out there. She's new."

Link let out an exasperated breath. "Back to urgent matters, you heard anything from Jasmine?"

She shook her head. "Nothin'."

"Jenny says she ran off with that Rutherford fella," Lucy piped up, repeating her statement from earlier.

Link ran a hand over his stressed features, the sweat damp on his forehead and slick in his hair. "'Course she has. Guy thinks he's some big shot 'cuz his daddy owns the big accounting firm upstate." He shook his head ruefully. "And I don't guess you've heard a peep from Law?"

Melody shook her head. "I haven't. Still on a run? He's usually back by now."

Link nodded, fingers twirling his curled mustache uneasily. "We think it might be Marty Feigel's boys... They've been gettin' awful brazen ever since they got loose from the pen."

So they've just been let out of prison. That makes things worse, somehow, I thought to myself. Glancing at my friend, I could see she was really concerned for this man, and that made me worried that he might actually be very dead.

"Wasn't Sparkles with him?" Lucy asked, a twinge of hope in her voice.

Link nodded. "Yeah, but you really think the two of them are gonna come out on top when pit up against Marty's bo-"

Link was abruptly cut off when the door in the back of the hallway burst open, two disheveled men stumbling through it. The first one that came through was wiry, with oil-slick hair and a crazed look in his eye. He honestly gave me an uneasy feeling. The man who came behind him was not much taller than him, but much broader, with large arms and strong hands. His hair was a deep brown color, and the longer pieces on top that weren't pushed back from his forehead fell around his face, adding to the overall look of disheveled-ness. His shirt was ripped, and he was covered in dirt, oil, and what I could only assume was blood. The two firmly gripped grimy bottles in their fists.

"WE GOT THE HOOCH!" the second one exclaimed triumphantly.

Link seemed to sag with relief as he approached the two. "Thank Christ, you two! The hell took you so long?" he questioned, helping them bring the liquor into the back.

"Feigel boys," the brown-headed one answered, handing Link a large crate.

"I'm just glad you're here, now. We got maybe ten minutes 'til Maude's done with her set, and we're severely shorthanded on the entertainment side o' things, tonight." He risked a glance at the brunette next to him. "Ya think you could do me a solid and play a lil' somethin'?"

To my surprise, the man nodded, smiling a bit. "Give me two minutes to get cleaned up, and I'll be out there."

Lucy breathed a sigh of relief and Melody clapped her hands happily before turning back to me. "Come on, (Y/N). We don't wanna miss it!"