The Naked Piano Player (Chapter 11) (ff:one-on-one, 8168 words) [11/11] show all parts

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"Like a librarian who forgot her glasses," said Evelyn.

“Glasses, that’s a good idea,” said Lila. “A pair of glasses will make your outfit complete.”

“Valerie’s got a prop pair somewhere,” said Evelyn. *I’ll ask her for them.”

“Do I need glasses?” asked Fiona.

“Yes,” said Evelyn, getting to her feet. “Absolutely, they’re the finishing touch.” She headed toward the door that led backstage.

"Think about it,” said Lila. “What does the audience see when you walk out on stage? A woman who looks like she's come straight from the office. The glasses sell that story.”

Evelyn was gone for some time, but eventually returned with a pair of tortoiseshell frames, holding them with the satisfaction of someone producing a winning card. "It took a while to find them," she said, handing them to Fiona, “but I’m sure it was worth it.”

Fiona turned the glasses over in her hands for a moment, then put them on. There was a brief silence at the table.

"Oh," said Laura. “You look different.”

Lila was already holding out a compact. Fiona took it, opened it, and looked at her reflection. The transformation was subtle but undeniable. It made her feel more in character.

“One more thing,” said Lila. “Pin your hair up.”

“Oh yes,” said Evelyn. “And let it down during your act.”

“Okay,” said Fiona, nodding. She could see why that would work and appreciated the advice. “Thanks for your help.”

Lila pressed a glass of wine into her hand. “We’re happy to help.”

“Besides, we recommended you to Valerie,” Evelyn chuckled, “so we have a vested interest in seeing you do well.”

After Fiona had finished her glass of wine, she went back to the dressing room to put her hair up, quickly returning with a hair clip nicely in place. Again, the difference was undeniable.

“You look perfect,” said Laura, with Evelyn and Lila nodding their agreement.

Fiona looked across at the stage, knowing she’d be up there very soon now. “The curtains are open,” she said. “Shouldn’t they be closed until I start?”

“No,” said Lila, shaking her head. “Don’t bother with the drama of the curtain going up. Just walk up the steps at the side of the stage.”

“I agree,” said Evelyn. “Make your entrance casual, rather than theatrical. Keep it restrained, understated.”

Fiona nodded. Keeping it simple made sense.

“Did you give Valerie your music?” asked Lila.

“Yes,” said Fiona, “I’m all set.”

“Speaking of Valerie, here she comes,” said Evelyn.

Fiona looked around, seeing that Valerie was indeed approaching. She spoke only one word. “Ready?”

Fiona nodded and a couple of minutes later the overhead music came to a halt. Fiona knew exactly what that meant and she immediately stood, making her way across the room toward the stage, surprised at how calm she was feeling. She ascended the steps at the side of the stage and positioned herself center stage, waiting for her music to begin. She noticed a small crowd gathering in front of the stage and that prompted her nerves to suddenly switch on. They seemed very close, a little too close for comfort. Still she waited. What was happening with her music? It was taking an eternity to start. Or perhaps it was just her nerves having switched on that made it seem like an eternity.

The stage lights clicked on, almost hitting Fiona like a physical force. Of course, lights. She’d forgotten about lights. Now she was truly in the spotlight, in more ways than one. The lights were warm, a bright amber-gold, and focused entirely on her. For a second or two the audience disappeared into the darkness beyond them, before her eyes adjusted and they all came back into view.

Now her music began. To start her performance, she’d chosen Glory Box by Portishead, a moody, atmospheric song, and one that was slow enough for her to feel comfortable moving to. She didn’t regard herself as a great dancer, so didn’t want anything too up-tempo, just something she could gently sway to. It was more modern than the music she’d heard Evelyn and Lila dancing to, but she felt it fitted the way she was going to move on stage very well and was happy with her choice.

As Fiona swayed to the music, she found that her nerves had settled and she felt very comfortable, almost as though she was just dancing alone at home. But then she turned to the audience and the sea of expectant faces looking at her unsettled her again. Experiencing that nervous moment, she decided it was time to start the real entertainment. She reached up and removed the glasses, breaking into a smile at the same time. Then she removed the hair clip, allowing her hair to fall over her shoulders.

She looked over the audience, starting to feel a sense of control. Everyone was looking at her, but that was a good thing she felt, and nothing to feel nervous about. She noticed Laura, Evelyn and Lila close to the front and came forward until she was standing right before them. She leaned forward and pressed the glasses and hair clip into Laura’s hand, which resolved a question in her mind of what she was going to do with those items. She then moved back again, returning to center stage.

Fiona now reached for the top button of her blouse. She’d learned from watching Evelyn and Lila not to hurry these things, so she lingered over it a little, before moving slowly to the next button. At this point, she was surprised at how confident she felt. Being the center of attention felt good and she was beginning to revel in it. Her hands now moved to the third button, which her rehearsals at home had taught her was a key moment, as releasing that button allowed the blouse to gape open.

Sure enough, as the third button slipped away, the blouse opened wide enough to reveal the swell of Fiona’s breasts and the striking red and black plunge bra containing them. She paused for a moment, knowing how important it was to be unhurried and tease things out, before her hands moved slowly to the fourth button and then the fifth and final one. The blouse now slipped from her shoulders with an ease that she felt relieved about, having practiced the movement many times at home. She had been determined that it would look effortless when she did it for real, and it did.

Glory Box had run it’s course and Fiona paused briefly, waiting for the next track to kick in. This was Wicked Game by Chris Isaak, another slow and moody song, but also one that she thought was sultry and atmospheric. Once again it wasn’t typical of the stage music she’d heard at the club, being more modern, but it suited her performance and she felt very confident in her choice. She liked it’s dark, brooding quality and thought it followed on very nicely from Glory Box.

Fiona’s hands moved behind her to the zipper of her pencil skirt. She decided to turn her back to the audience, thinking it would be good if they could see the zipper being pulled down. Then she put her hands on the waistband of the skirt, gently pushing it over her hips. It slithered down her legs, pooling at her ankles, revealing red and black panties that matched her plunge bra.

Fiona was surprised at how calm she felt. She stepped forward, away from the skirt, and stood for a moment, feeling the lights on her skin and the extraordinary sensation of a room full of people entirely focused on a single point, which was her. She wasn’t just feeling calm, she was enjoying herself.

Fiona’s fingers now traced the edge of one of her bra straps. She was in no hurry, of course, knowing that teasing was part of the act. When she was ready, she hooked a thumb under the strap and let it slide down her shoulder. Then she did the same with the other strap, leaving the cups of the bra barely clinging to her body. Her fingers now drifted to the clasp, then she once again turned her back to the audience, thinking it would be good if they could see the clasp released. It yielded to her fingers and the bra loosened, but Fiona didn’t let it fall. Not yet. She turned to face the audience again, holding the cups in place with her arms crossed loosely over her chest.

Fiona didn’t rush. She let the anticipation coil in the room like a spring, then uncrossed her arms and let the bra slip down her torso. It caught briefly on the curve of her hips before falling to the floor of the stage. She scanned the audience, curious about their reaction, finding that they were still all eyes. Even better, they looked like they were enjoying themselves. She smiled, satisfied with what she saw.

Fiona decided it was time to perform a shimmy, a classic burlesque move, and she would make it a lengthy one. She opened her arms, extending them from her body, and firmly shook her shoulders, which of course shook her breasts. A murmur of approval ran through the room, bringing another smile to her face, and causing her to keep the shimmy going even longer than she had planned.

Now her hands moved to her red and black panties, her thumbs slipping inside the waistband. She paused, letting the fabric stretch just enough to reveal the shadow of her hip bones, before releasing it with a slow snap against her skin. Her thumbs then slipped inside the waistband again, this time not stopping at the hip bones, but pushing the fabric past them. Slowly the panties slid lower, slipping down her thighs before pooling at her ankles, leaving Fiona utterly exposed under the stage lights.

Wicked Game now sounded its final notes. Fiona stepped out of the panties as she waited a brief moment for her final track to begin, which was Nights In White Satin by The Moody Blues, another song she found very atmospheric. Like the other two tracks it was a slow burner, but unlike them the music swelled in a way she found appropriate for the closing track of her performance.

It occurred to Fiona that she was a little ahead of where she planned to be at this point. Playing with her panties and taking them off was supposed to come after the start of Nights In White Satin, not before. It wasn’t a big mistake, but it meant she had more time to fill now than she was expecting. She decided to turn her back to the audience and give them an extended hip roll, a move which immediately led to a murmur of approval. Pleased with the appreciation of the move, Fiona extended it even further, hoping that the hip roll was also being seen as a sexy booty roll, before turning to face the audience again.

She stood for a moment, knowing it was time for her floorshow, but suddenly nervous about it. The audience were so close. The way they crowded around the front of the stage was a little unsettling. It was a little too intimate. She considered skipping the floorwork, reasoning that she was fully exposed as she was. Full frontal nudity under the glare of the stage lights was surely enough, she thought. Considering it was a debut performance, she’d surely done enough already, she argued to herself.

She scanned the audience, the gazes on their faces appearing ravenous, and that included Laura, Evelyn and Lila, who were gathered together right at the front of the stage. She had done this in her fantasies many times in the last few weeks, but doing it for real was proving to be daunting and she wasn’t sure if she could do it. Then she saw Lila wink at her and in that moment she realized that she was going to go through with it. She also realized that she wanted to go through with it. It had only been a wink but it had grounded her. Her mind was suddenly clear. If what she was going to do ended up feeling awkward or even humiliating, that would just make the experience even better, because she actually enjoyed humiliation. Suddenly she was ready. In fact, more than ready. She wanted this.

Fiona lowered herself to the floor of the stage, a little ungainly. Sitting down was one thing she hadn’t thought to practice, but probably should have done. She decided to pause for a moment, in the teasing tradition of burlesque, then leaned back and opened her legs a little. She allowed a few moments to pass and then opened her legs wider. She felt under the spotlight more than ever, but was enjoying it.

She rolled over onto her front and got up on all fours, knowing that she was still fully exposed in that position but was providing a different view. After wowing the audience for a while in that position, she turned herself over again, adopting her original position, though spreading her legs even wider. She was glad she had remembered to fully shave there, as it made her feel even more exposed.

The music was fading, prompting Fiona to quickly get to her feet. She then stood motionless at the front edge of the stage, the audience giving her generous applause, prompting her to smile broadly. When the applause had died down, she turned and collected her discarded clothes, wondering if she ought to get dressed again. But then she saw Lila at the bottom of the stage steps, her hands outstretched, holding open a silk robe. She didn’t know where Lila had suddenly produced that from, but she walked down the steps and smoothly slid into it, grateful to Lila for her assistance.

When they were all back in their seats, Laura, Evelyn and Lila were full of admiration for Fiona’s performance. She listened to them with interest, not saying too much herself, noting the different way that each one had of looking at her performance. Laura was relaxed and quietly proud, Evelyn was theatrical and celebratory, and Lila was the one with the sharpest eye, who had logged every detail.

Fiona’s own opinion is that it had gone surprisingly well. There had been a few minor hitches, notably not having a table or chair on which to place the glasses and the hair clip, but on the whole it couldn’t have gone much better. As the others talked, she reflected on how she’d fantasized about being on stage, on having people watch her, and how intoxicating it felt to have now done it for real.

Lila explained how her music could be improved, by eliminating the small breaks she’d had between tracks and having one piece of music segue into another. Fiona nodded, impressed with Lila’s attention to detail. It was a minor point, she thought, but if she were to perform again she wanted to address such minor points and make her performance as smooth and professional as possible.

Fiona drank the last of her wine, thinking over the idea of further performances in the future. Evelyn saw that her glass was empty and moved to refill it, prompting Laura to caution Fiona against drinking too much, as she still had a second performance to make that night and needed to be focused on that.

"You're very strict," said Evelyn with a theatrical wink, pouring Fiona's wineglass to the brim despite Laura's warning. “You sound like a real stickler for discipline.”

Laura was quick to respond. "Discipline isn’t cruelty, Evelyn. It’s care."

“You do have a point, Laura” said Lila, “but I don’t think one more glass of wine is going to do any harm.”

“Well, I hope not,” said Laura, watching as Fiona lifted the overfilled wineglass carefully and took a measured sip. She decided it was high time to reassert control and reached out under the table, brushing the silk robe aside to place her hand firmly on Fiona’s thigh. The sudden move surprised Fiona, the contact sending a jolt through her body, but the possessiveness of the gesture thrilled her.

Two women now appeared at the edge of their table, the kind of approach that was polite rather than intrusive, waiting to be noticed rather than demanding attention. Evelyn saw them first and smiled in a way that welcomed them forward. The first was perhaps mid-forties, elegant in an understated way, with the ease of someone entirely comfortable in this room and in herself. She addressed Fiona directly.

"I hope you'll forgive the interruption," she said. "I simply wanted to say that I thought your performance was beautifully judged. First time on that stage, if I'm not mistaken?"

“Yes,” said Fiona. “Was it that obvious?”

“No, not at all,” the woman replied. “I’m not saying that. I just overheard someone saying that the dancer tonight was making her debut. Otherwise I wouldn’t have known."

“It was very good for a debut, wasn’t it?” said Evelyn. “Don’t you think so?”

“Absolutely,” the woman replied. “That’s exactly what I think. That’s why I wanted to come over and say something.”

Her companion had been standing slightly behind her throughout this exchange, and Fiona had been aware of her in the peripheral way you are aware of someone who is paying you close attention. She was younger, perhaps even as young as Fiona, dark haired, and when their eyes met she didn't look away quite as quickly as politeness strictly required.

"I just thought you were wonderful," she said. It was a simpler thing than her companion had offered, but it was said with a directness that gave it considerable weight. "The way you moved. You looked completely at home up there."

"She is at home up there," said Laura, her voice swelling with pride. "She’s a natural performer."

The younger woman looked at Laura with interest. "You sound very supportive."

"Yes, I do everything I can to encourage her talents," said Laura. “In fact it was my idea in the first place for Fiona to appear on stage. I also teach her piano.”

"Of course," said the young woman, returning her gaze to Fiona in a way that suggested piano lessons were not what she had been thinking about at all. "Well. I hope we'll see you up there again, Fiona."

"You will," said Lila, with serene confidence.

After they had gone, Evelyn chuckled. “That’s how it begins,” she said to Fiona.

“That’s how what begins?” asked Fiona.

Evelyn and Lila exchanged a glance. “That’s how a fan base begins,” said Evelyn.

“Fan base?” said Fiona, not sure if Evelyn was being serious.

Evelyn smiled and exchanged another glance with Lila, a glance that contained a great deal of shared history. "The moment you step off that stage," she said, "you discover that the audience doesn't entirely stay out there." She nodded in the direction the two women had gone. "They follow you back into the room. They can't quite let go of what they saw."

“I thought they were just being polite,” Fiona countered.

“Oh, Fiona,” Evelyn said, “polite is when someone says ‘nice show’ and then walks away. Those two were not being polite, especially the young one. She was interested.”

Fiona felt her cheeks warm. “I thought she was just… friendly.”

“Friendly,” Lila echoed, with a soft laugh. “Yes. Let’s call it that.”

Fiona felt her cheeks becoming even warmer. She had to admit that the younger woman’s gaze had felt like a physical weight on her skin and actually it still did, a lingering heat that rivaled Laura’s hand on her thigh.

“You see,” Lila continued, “when people take a liking to a new performer, they feel curious. They want to see who you are offstage as much as on it.”

Fiona considered this for a moment, turning her wine glass slowly in her hands. It was a new thought, and not an unwelcome one, but it required some quiet adjustment. On stage she had felt the audience as a single warm presence, an atmosphere rather than a collection of individuals. The idea that those individuals then stepped forward out of the dark and became particular people, with particular things to say, was a different proposition entirely.

"You'll get used to it," said Evelyn, reading her expression. "It’s simply what happens when you step into the light. People see you.”

Lila smiled. “And some of them will want a little more of your time. Your attention. Your presence.”

Fiona looked toward the direction the two women had gone, though they were long out of sight. “I didn’t expect anyone to come over. I didn’t expect any attention at all. I thought I’d just… slip back into the crowd.”

“You won’t be slipping anywhere anymore,” Evelyn said. “Not after tonight.”

Fiona took a slow sip of her drink, letting the idea settle. “I’m not sure I know how to handle that.”

"Don’t worry, you'll get used to it," said Evelyn. "And then, after a while, you'll find you rather like it."

Laura, who had been listening to the discussion with interest, suddenly spoke up. “There’s something else that’s important here. Something that you haven’t even mentioned yet.” The others looked at her, wondering what she was going to say. “Expectation. If Fiona starts gathering admirers, doesn’t that inevitably create a weight of expectation? Instead of performing for strangers, she’d partly be performing for people who already have a firm idea of who she is on stage. People who have definite expectations about what they’re going to get from her and will feel let down if they don’t get it.”

“You’re right,” said Evelyn. “Although it’s not just known admirers that have a sense of expectation, it’s the audience in general.”

“I hadn’t thought about any of this,” said Fiona.

“Look at it this way,” said Lila. “Your first time on stage may seem the most daunting, but it some ways it’s the easiest show you’ll ever do. Because your first audience makes allowances and gives you the benefit of the doubt. After that, if they liked you they have a sense of expectation about you. The real question is whether you confirm what they think or give them something different."

“It’s the double-edged sword of the spotlight,” Evelyn agreed, her eyes twinkling with the wisdom of someone who had navigated many such rooms. “Admiration is a debt you have to keep repaying. Once people start forming an idea of you, they want you to confirm it. Or exceed it.”

“That’s it exactly,” Lila said. “Every time you step out there, you have to be the woman they remember. Or better.”

Fiona nodded slowly. “I understand,” she said quietly, thinking it all through. “But I wouldn’t want to be a finished product,” she continued, her voice gaining strength as the idea in her mind took shape. “If they expected the same thing every time, they’d be disappointed. I’d want to keep changing.”

“Spoken like a true artist,” Lila remarked, looking impressed. “Because that’s exactly what you should be saying if you want to be an artist and not just an exhibit.”

Fiona laughed. “This is all happening so fast. I’m letting the conversation suck me into a future I haven’t even decided upon yet. I should probably focus on my second performance tonight before I think too much about what comes after.”

“Yes, first things first, darling,” said Laura, releasing her grip on Fiona’s thigh. “You should probably go and get ready.”

“Yes, I will,” Fiona replied, gathering up her stage clothes. “I don’t want to leave it to the last minute.”

As she got up, Laura handed her the prop glasses and the hair clip. “You’ll need these.”

“Oh, thanks,” said Fiona. “I won’t be long,” she added, turning toward the door that led backstage. She had almost reached that door, when she was intercepted by a woman who appeared to have been loitering in that vicinity. She looked about thirty, her face surrounded by a cascade of blonde curls.

“That was quite a performance you gave,” she said. “Is it true that it was your debut as a dancer?”

“Yes, it was my first time,” Fiona replied. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“For a first performance I thought it was fabulous.” The woman smiled. “I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Thank you. You’re very kind.”

“I’m Roxanne, by the way.

“Fiona.”

“Well, tonight may be your first appearance, Fiona, but I hope it’s not your last. You’ve really got something. It’s hard to define, but easy to notice.”

“Well, I don’t know about the future yet, but I’m on again tonight at least. I’m just going to get ready.”

“Then I mustn’t delay you. We can talk again some other time.” With that she was gone, headed toward the bar, and Fiona pushed the door in front of her open and made her way down the passage beyond to the dressing room.

When Fiona returned to the club, back in her blouse and pencil skirt, she expressed her concern to Evelyn and Lila that she didn’t have a different outfit for her second show. “This is where I’ve slipped up,” she said. “I’m just going to be repeating myself and the audience will see it as predictable.”

Evelyn gave a soft laugh. “Many dancers here repeat the same costume. It’s not such a bad thing.”

“But not the best ones,” Fiona insisted. “You and Lila didn’t. The Shimmy Sisters didn’t.”

“Well it’s not ideal to wear the same costume,” said Lila calmly. “But it’s not something the audience is going to be too concerned about.” Fiona looked unconvinced, but Lila continued regardless, “The important thing is to vary your act, not your clothes.”

“Yes, maybe keep your glasses on for longer this time,” said Evelyn. “That’s just for starters. If you think about it, there are plenty of things you can do different. The audience will soon realize that it’s not a repeat performance.”

“That sounds like good advice,” said Laura. “You’ll be fine, darling. Just relax and make sure you don’t just copy what you did the first time.”

“I’ve got an idea,” said Lila. “We’ll start with the curtain down this time and when the curtain goes up the audience will see you sitting at a desk, as though you’re working in an office.”

“That’s fabulous!” exclaimed Evelyn. “What do you think, Fiona?”

“I like it,” said Fiona, her concerns about the second performance suddenly slipping away. “How can I arrange it? I guess I have to talk to Valerie.”

“I’ll take care of it,” said Evelyn, getting out of her seat. “I’ll go and talk to her now.”

“Thank you,” Fiona called after her, which Evelyn acknowledged with a wave of her hand.

“I think this will work really well,” said Lila. “It’ll make your office attire look very appropriate.”

“Yes, very suitable,” said Laura, putting her hand on Fiona’s thigh again. “I think this will work better than your first show.” Fiona nodded, thinking about how exactly she was going to handle the idea.

Evelyn was gone for some time, but eventually returned looking triumphant. “All sorted,” she said. “You’ll have a desk and chair and we even found a computer monitor and keyboard for you to use.”

“Good work,” said Lila.

Laura chuckled, squeezing Fiona’s thigh at the same time. “I told you it would be better than your first show.” Fiona smiled, then turned her head, as out of the corner of her eye she sat the stage curtains closing.

A few minutes later, Valerie appeared at their table. “Your office set’s ready,” she said to Fiona. “Come with me and I’ll show you.” Fiona followed her backstage and then through the stage door, entering the stage to find a small desk with a computer monitor and keyboard on it, as Evelyn had described, complete with a basic office chair. She sat in the chair, impressed, thinking how perfect it all looked. Valerie stood by for a few seconds, allowing her to settle, before asking if she was ready.

“Yes,” Fiona replied firmly. “I’m ready.”

Valerie then left her and within a minute Fiona heard the music in the club come to a halt. Soon afterwards the stage lights clicked on. Fiona positioned her fingers on the keyboard, ready to mimic typing, and fixed her gaze on the computer screen. Her music started to play. This time she had chosen to start with Feeling Good by Nina Simone. As the first notes rang out, the stage curtains opened.

Fiona didn’t look up to see the audience. She continued looking at the computer screen, as though there was really something being displayed there, and she continued pretending to type. Her fingers moved methodically over the keyboard, which appeared a little dusty, probably a prop that Valerie had unearthed from some storage room. The keys stuck slightly, forcing her to press harder than would usually be necessary, the mechanical resistance lending her movements an exaggerated deliberateness.

She thought it would be a good tease to keep this going for a while. Having watched Evelyn and Lila on stage several times, she was well aware of the value to be had in keeping the audience waiting. She also knew that Feeling Good had a slow introduction which lasted about forty seconds, so she decided it was a nice idea to let that intro play out before she looked up or made any move.

Finally, Fiona ceased her supposed typing and sat back in her chair, as though taking a break. She made herself comfortable, giving the impression that she was relaxing. Then her hands started wander over her body, soon finding her breasts and gently clutching them through her blouse. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back slightly, as though lost in the sensuality of the moment.

When she was ready, Fiona opened her eyes again and adopted a very deliberate smirk. She reached for the top button of her blouse, unhurriedly popping it free. She still resisted any temptation to look at the audience, determined to maintain for a little longer the illusion of playing in her own world. Her hands moved down to the second button, popping that one free, and then the third.

As she popped the third button free, the blouse gaped open, wide enough to show the swell of her breasts and the red and black bra which held them. Fiona decided that this was the moment to get up, since the last two buttons of the blouse were hidden from the audience by the desk, if she remained sitting behind it. She rose from her chair and walked around to the front of the desk.

Fiona stood, facing the audience, looking at them for the first time since she’d began this show. As with her earlier performance, she experienced the novel sensation of looking out at a room full of people who were all looking back at her. They were looking very intently too, their attention unwavering. It was a little intimidating, but quite satisfying at the same time. She noticed Laura, Evelyn and Lila standing together, and her eyes also honed in on her known admirers, the two women who had approached her at the table and the one who had later introduced herself as Roxanne.

Fiona decided that she’d better continue with her blouse buttons. Her hands accordingly found the fourth button, popping it free, and then moved to the fifth and final one. When she popped that one out, the blouse slipped smoothly from her shoulders, just needing a couple of tugs on the sleeves to remove it completely. She smiled to herself, pleased with how well the show was going and with how confident she felt, her concerns about wearing the same outfit as last time now forgotten.

Fiona reckoned that Feeling Good had about thirty seconds to run. She decided to use that time to place her blouse tidily on the desk, rather than just letting it slip to the floor. She hoped that the move looked a little different to the way that dancers at the club usually discarded their clothes, by dropping them on the spot. She turned around to do that, folding the blouse neatly, and then straightened, standing with her back to the audience, allowing the track to end and the next one to start before she continued.

The next track was Unfinished Sympathy by Massive Attack. Fiona decided to let the intro play and wait for the vocals to come in. As they did, her hands moved to the back of her pencil skirt and slowly lowered the zipper. Then she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of the skirt, pushing it over her hips until it slipped down her legs and pooled around her ankles, revealing her red and black panties.

Fiona decided to come to the very front of the stage, something she’d hardly done during her first show. Once there, she scanned the audience with interest, not feeling nervous, actually feeling quite calm, enjoying the fact that she was the center of everyone’s attention. She again noticed the two women who had earlier approached her at the table, and she made a point of locking eyes with the young one, giving her a smile at the same time, remembering how that had felt when she was in the audience.

Fiona retreated to where her skirt lay on the floor of the stage, picking it up and folding it neatly. She had initially forgotten to gather the skirt and tidy it away, as she had the blouse, but having remembered now she walked over to the desk and placed it there. Turning back to the audience, she decided it was time to show them some classic burlesque moves. She tried a few bumps but didn’t think it was working that well with Unfinished Sympathy, so switched to a grind instead, which seemed to fit better.

With a rhythmic rotation of the hips, feet planted widely and knees slightly flexed, Fiona executed the grind with a perfectly fluid motion and a perfectly steady pace. She kept her eyes on the audience and noted how they seemed fully engaged with her movements, her effect on them almost memerizing. She determined to keep the grind going, her confidence swelling, making her feel very much in control.

The grind continued for some time, Fiona commanding the stage with considerable poise, thinking to herself that the time she’d spent watching burlesque videos on YouTube was really proving to have been worthwhile. However, she now recognized that Unfinished Sympathy was meandering to a close and decided it seemed natural to halt the grind at this point, so as the music faded into silence she straightened and turned her back to the audience, slowly walking back toward the desk.

As she reached the desk, Fiona suddenly had the idea of sitting on it, as she waited for her next track to begin. A nice touch, she thought, making further and good use of the desk. She accordingly perched herself on the edge, crossing her legs, though she didn’t have long to wait before the music resumed.

The new track was Hell Is Round The Corner by Tricky. Fiona had chosen this because it used a sample from Ike’s Rap 2 by Isaac Hayes, a sample which was also used in the Glory Box track from her first show. It artfully allowed her to make repeat use of the Isaac Hayes sample, which she thought had an ideal feel for her stage performances, but without repeating the Glory Box track itself.

As the first notes of Hell Is Round The Corner sounded, Fiona decided it was high time to remove her glasses. She therefore took them off and placed them on the desk, which was such a big improvement on her first show, when she hadn’t had anywhere to put them. Then she removed her hair clip, allowing her hair to come free and fall over her shoulders. She placed the hair clip on the desk too.

Fiona had intended to get up from the desk at this point, but she changed her mind and decided to sit there for longer, unable to resist the idea of keeping the audience guessing. Still perched on the desk, her fingers now toyed with one of the straps of her red and black bra, looking at the audience coyly as she did so, She pushed the strap along her shoulder a little, but not enough to let it fall.

Teasing was the game here and Fiona was playing the game with alacrity. She switched her attention to the other strap, toying with that one, pushing that one along her shoulder too, but still not enough to let it fall. Eventually she decided it was time to get up from the desk and she took a few steps forward, straps still out of place, in a wider position on her shoulders than usual, but not in danger of falling.

Fiona’s fingers now returned to one of the straps, this time pushing the strap enough for it fall from her shoulder. Then she did the same with the other strap, recreating the scene from her first show in which the cups of the bra were left barely clinging to her body. Giving the audience a knowing smile, she now moved to release the clasp of the bra. When that yielded the bra loosened, but didn’t fall as she held the cups in place, as she had done earlier, with one of her arms crossed over her chest.

If there was one thing above all else that Fiona had learned from watching Evelyn and Lila, it was never to hurry. In accordance with that prized principle, she kept her arm across her chest for quite some time, before she finally relented, removing her arm and letting the bra fall. It didn’t reach the floor, because she caught it on the way down, turning away to place it on the desk.

Fiona had used three music tracks for her first show, but because she’d chosen shorter tracks this time she’d needed to pick four to make up the required time. The fourth track now began to play. It was La Vie En Rose by Édith Piaf, a choice that Fiona hadn’t been entirely sure about, but had decided to take a chance on. She had wondered if the French vocal would seem out of place, but in the end she felt that the intimate and emotional atmosphere of the song made it very suitable for her.

Her hands moved to her red and black panties, her only remaining item of clothing, slipping her thumbs inside the waistband. She then paused, just to tease the removal out a little, before slowly sliding the panties over her thighs and down to the floor. She walked over to the desk and placed the panties there, on the pile of her other clothing, before turning around and walking forward again.

It was time for the finale to Fiona’s act, her floorshow, and she lowered herself to the floor of the stage. It felt a little awkward. If she continued as a burlesque dancer, she would have to practice that move. She now paused for a moment, teasing yet again and surveying the audience. Then she leaned back and opened her legs a little, allowing a few moments to pass and then opening her legs wider. She repeated what she’d done in her earlier floorshow by rolling onto her front and getting up on all fours, keeping her knees well apart, giving the audience a view from the rear. Then she turned herself over again, returning to her original position, but now spreading her legs even wider. She was fully exposed, but she felt good about what she was doing, happy to be in such control of the room.

Fiona realized that La Vie En Rose had entered its closing refrain, her cue to get to her feet, which she managed to do in time for the music’s final note. The audience responded just as they had after her first show, generous applause ringing out and bringing a big smile to her face. As the applause died down, the stage curtains also came down, leaving Fiona alone but with a feeling of great satisfaction.

Fiona now headed to the dressing room, where she took a quick shower. She hadn’t exerted herself much on stage, generally moving slowly, but had still felt rather hot under the stage lights. When she returned to the club, she found that Laura, Evelyn and Lila were discussing her musical choices.

“I’ve got a suggestion for you,” said Lila, as Fiona slid into her seat. “Something that would work well with La Vie En Rose, if you’re going to continue dancing to that.”

Fiona smiled. “I haven’t said I’m going to continue dancing at all.”

“Aw…” said Evelyn. “You can’t quit now, not after such a great start.”

“Evelyn’s right,” said Lila. “You’ve shown so much promise, even in one night. Such great potential. It would be a shame if you stopped now.”

“Do you two agree on everything?” Laura interjected, looking at Evelyn and Lila. “You seem to almost speak in unison and never have different views about anything.”

“Yes we always agree,” chuckled Evelyn, exchanging a glance with Lila. “Why do you think we’re together?”

Lila smiled. “Seriously, we don’t agree on everything, but we do agree on Fiona. Because we both know a rare find when we see one. It’s a matter of professional consensus."

"And aesthetic alignment," Evelyn added. "When it comes to Fiona, her potential is something entirely objective. It isn’t a matter of opinion. It’s a matter of appreciating what’s in plain sight."

“Well, I don’t think we should use that appreciation to pressure her,” said Laura. “It’s important that she makes her own decisions.”

“Of course,” Evelyn replied. “No pressure was intended, I assure you. We just thought that talent shouldn’t be mothballed after one night, that’s all.”

Fiona followed the discussion with interest, but wasn’t sure what to say. Part of her loved Laura’s protective streak, but another part of her was still humming from the heat of the spotlight. It felt good to have Laura looking out for her, but on the other hand she felt as though she had grown that night and was much more now than the girl who had walked into the club earlier that evening.

She decided to turn the conversation back to music. “You said you had a suggestion,” she remarked to Lila. “If I do continue dancing, I’ll definitely be interested in any ideas for music you have.”

“Oh yes,” Lila replied. “There’s a track I used to dance to myself, which I thought would be just right for you. It fits thematically with La Vie En Rose and, even better, the pace is ideal for your dancing style. It’s called Chanson d'Amour.

“Who’s it by?” asked Fiona.

“There’s at least a dozen versions, but the one I used was by The Manhattan Transfer.”

“Thanks. I’ll check it out,” said Fiona.

“Are we going to celebrate then?” asked Evelyn.

Laura looked a little surprised. “Celebrate?”

“Yes,” said Evelyn, “It’s not every day that someone makes a burlesque debut as well as Fiona did tonight. That calls for a celebration surely?”

“What did you have in mind, Champagne?” asked Laura, her tone a little skeptical.

“Why not?” Evelyn replied. “We even have a bottle at home, ready and waiting. A bottle that Lila and I have been saving for a special occasion.”

Laura raised an eyebrow. “You keep emergency Champagne for promising debutantes?”

“Not exactly,” Lila chuckled. “Evelyn and I won first prize at a burlesque festival a few months ago and were presented with a magnum of Champagne.”

“A magnum that’s been sitting at home waiting for a good reason to open it,” said Evelyn.

“I’m flattered to think that I’m a good reason,” said Fiona.

“Of course you’re a good reason,” Lila chuckled. “Every first night in show business is special and deserves a little sparkle.”

“A magnum of Champagne sounds like more than a little sparkle,” said Fiona. “How big is a magnum anyway?”

“It’s double the size of a standard bottle,” Lila replied.

“Which is way too much for Lila and I to drink alone,” Evelyn smirked.

Fiona looked at Laura. There was silence for a moment, the invitation hanging in the air.

“We don’t live far away,” prompted Evelyn. “It’s only a short journey.”

Finally, Laura spoke. “Okay, we accept your invitation,” she said, looking at Fiona, who nodded.

“Great,” said Evelyn. “Then let’s go.”

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jth215 writes Sun 7 Jun 2026 14:23:

Love the office girl, I think it's a great idea. Looking forward for more. Thanks for sharing your stories.

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