This daily training is exhausting. When I fall asleep, Solazzo is not the one I think of but to Madam Lana.

"Are you dancing or jiggling your body? You are too stiff!"

"It's jazz, not funerals! Mind your expression! Smile!"

"Wrong leg! The left one! No, the other left!"

Ugh... The idea of facing her again depresses me. It turns out that I am an awful dancer, and she reminds me every day.

"Lunch time, Arthur. There are sausages on the menu today, hurry up!" Claire tells me. She and I get along quite well, I feel. All girls were surprised to see a man arrive among them, some were even suspicious. Lots refused to undress in the same room as me, which I understand. But then the word that I 'am' homosexual spread and reassured them. I still get weird looks, just not for the same reason. At least now we can cohabitate.

"I'm coming!"

Madam Lana doesn't let us eat as much as we'd like, and we must hurry up. She tells us, 'do you want to jiggle your belly on stage? Or just throw up before the audience?' I get no special treatment. After a few weeks, I can feel that my chub melted like snow in the sun.

When Claire and I arrive in the kitchen, there are only a few sausages left. Our starving selves share what is left, smiling at each other. Then we go back behind the scenes after we are done eating.

I am not skilled enough to be a dancer on stage, not even as a replacement. All I can do is help the artists behind the curtain with their makeup, and shop for them from time to time.

I thought today was going to be a day like any other, busy yet boring. Two girls wearing heavy makeup help each other backstage. Madam Lana's screams of rage echo up to here.

"Aria! If you don't intend to go back on stage, you'd better disappear! Spraining your ankle on stage? Are you trying to ruin my show? What an amateur! Fix this ankle issue within a week or you're fired!"

Madam Lana is terrifying. No one dares to move or make a noise. I shrivel. A young waiter barges in and whispers something to Madam Lana. She relaxes a little but she still looks upset. Her eyes scan the area in search of something, then the points at me.

"You, yes you. Go get changed, you are replacing Aria," she demands.

"But, I am not on point yet..." I object timidly, avoiding her eyes.

"I have no one else right now! And your way of dancing is...alright. Chop chop! Give them a nice show, Arthur. You rehearsed the next dance yesterday. Don't mess up."

I don't have a choice. I get changed and wait for my turn to go on stage. Though I am not a fan of the makeup I must wear, I am glad nonetheless to have my body decently covered. I can't say the same thing about my coworkers. Fear bubbles in my stomach. I wonder how I will be welcomed on stage, awkward me among the gorgeous girls.

I step on stage and the spotlights aimed right as us shower me in blinding light. A dancing jazz music reaches my ear and the sound of trumpets fills the hall. It's the dance that I rehearsed yesterday, as Madam Lana said.

I do my best to follow the dancers before me. Lots of gaze are puzzled at the sight of me, but most of those soon get used to my presence and watch me with a certain interest, a certain predation, even. Though I am feeling like a piece of meat and try not to look at them, this reaction is somehow a bit of a relief. It's all going smoothly. From the corner of my eye, I see Madam Lana nod in satisfaction.

I take a few deep breaths once the song is over. As I leave the stage, I notice someone in the audience, sitting at a table on the other side of the room. Is this Angelo Solazzo?

I start feeling even more anxious than the instant before I started dancing, but he is talking to a man sitting next to him and isn't even looking at the stage. My gaze is empty as I keep staring at Solazzo. The dancer next to me has to shake me to help me snap out of my thoughts.

Solazzo notices my insistent gaze, but I look away quickly. He observes for a little while, then resumes his conversation with the man next to him. My heart is racing in my chest. I risk a few glances to make sure that it's him.

Fancy suit covering broad shoulders, strong build, thin mustache, olive skin tone similar to Mr. Iero's, well-combed black hair, piercing dark eyes, a cigar hanging from his lips. Angelo Solazzo is here.

I must get close to him... I am thinking as I go back to the loge. It would be too obvious to directly go talk to him. There must be another way.

I don't know where Mr. Iero is going with this set-up. How can I obtain information from Solazzo as a simple dancer? Though when I give it a thought and recall what he told me, I reckon that Mr. Iero made Arthur Dawn a homosexual for a reason, and I don't think it is simply to enable him to dance among girls for fun. No, there is more to it.

I am starting to figure out what Mr. Iero has in mind... Yet, it's only a guess, and if I am wrong, then I could get in big trouble for such an offense – especially if my target is Solazzo. This whole plan is still quite a big blur for me.

As I am thinking hard, Claire tells me that Madam Lana decided that I would replace Aria for the rest of the week. Adding this piece of information to my reasoning, it occurs to me... I can catch Solazzo's attention by dancing! Setting this as my goal, I hope that he will visit the club more often.

______

Solazzo comes twice this week. I make progress as a dancer, and I am progressively moved forward within the group of dancers. Once I was close enough to wink at Solazzo, and I also made a couple of mistakes to upset Madam Lana. She won't downgrade me though, or at least I think so, because I am quite eye-catching – her words. The audience is getting used to my presence as much as the other girls, their whistle is quite an indicator.

But no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, I can't manage to grasp Solazzo's attention.

The next morning, I am backstage as usual, and I am getting prepared for the next show. All of a sudden, Aria grasps my suit and drags me to the side.

"I am healed. You can stop dancing and go back to your little chores."

"But Madam Lana said..." I try to object but she interrupts me.

"Who do you think you are? Step aside, I have a representation to give."

The other dancers are looking at us, but they don't say a word. I don't have any other choice but to go back to my bedroom.

If I can't dance on stage, then I can't catch Solazzo's eye... How can I carry out my plan now? The criminal underworld of New York isn't as I pictured it at all. I am lost. What to do...

I rummage through my stuff and find Mr. Iero's number in a secret pocket of my bag.

With his number and a bit of money, I walk down the street to the nearest phone booth. I hear the regular tune of the phone against my hear until he picks up. "Mr. Iero?"

"What's the matter, Mr. Way? Did you face some difficulty?"

"Well, yes. I was planning on dancing on stage to draw Solazzo's attention to me..."

"You can't dance on stage?" Mr. Iero took a guess. Wow, he's quick.

"Not anymore."

"That will not be a problem. I will send Patrick to pick you up tomorrow."

"Are you sure that I can leave the Sparrow Hall whenever I want?" I inquire.

Mr. Iero laughs on the other side of the line. "As far as I am concerned, you can leave whenever you wish to. However, you will have to put on another act for Patrick, tomorrow."

"Another one?"

"Let's say that you still have feelings for Patrick and that you set up an appointment with him."

"What? Wait, I can't..."

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Way."

Mr. Iero hangs up before I can protest. What am I going to do? Is he testing me? Why is he inflicting this on me? I go back to the Sparrow Hall, distraught.

I still can't believe that I have to be an actor, in addition of a spy... I spend the night thinking about how I can play my part during this rendezvous before I finally manage to fall asleep.

When I wake up the next morning, I am still unsure of being able to play the part of the poor, naïve boy who is still crazy about his ex. I don't have a choice. I must pretend until it works.

I try to put nice clothes, knowing that I will meet with Mr. Iero. I wait nervously in my bedroom until Claire announces that my friend is at the door with a rose. At last.

I thank her. My anxiety vanishes at the sight of Patrick. I am tempted to forget about the plan and any measure of precaution. Besides, Patrick is supposed to be my boyfriend, yet he is busy winking at the girls! If I am 'crazy about him,' I suppose that I should get angry at him now.

I scrape my throat and start acting. "You bastard! What are you doing here?"

I take Patrick aback, but he gets into character. The nasty heartbreaker.

"I made a mistake, baby. I still love you. Look, I bought you a flower as soon as I got money." Patrick gives me a sorry look.

"Why should I care? You dump me here and that's all you got to make amends? A flower?"

"I was thinking about our future, my beauty," he cooes. "You were fed here, and you had a bed, it's better than being hungry and roofless with me."

I shake my head. "But..."

Patrick throws a look at me to make me understand that time has come. "I already told Madam Lana that I was getting you out today. Don't worry, I will not give up on you. Once I gather enough money, we could..."

I pretend to be moved, but I am trying not to laugh, honestly. Patrick has a gift of playing scoundrels. He hands the flower to me, then he helps me get in the car.

Patrick drops the act once he drives off. "We are going to the villa, Mr. Way. We will be there soon."

"Did Mr. Iero tell you why he wanted you to come get me?" I ask the blonde man.

"He did not," Patrick replies, his eyes on the road. "He only told me to pick you up and bring you there."

"Does Mr. Iero live in this villa?"

"I am just an employee, Mr. Way." He simply says. I can't get any information from him. Would that be this omertà, this law of silence at work? If every member of the mafia respects this law, how will I manage to get any piece of information whatsoever from Solazzo?

As I meditate on this question, the car slides in a narrow street and gets closer to our destination. Mr. Iero's villa. Maybe I can finally get answers from him; some clarifications would be very much appreciated because I can't see where I am going. From my point of view, I am heading to a dead end, much like the car I am sitting in.