(Untitled)

[hot_lil_fingers]

Fritzie sits at the foot of the stage, with her legs dangling over the edge, wearing a peach cocktail dress with short handkerchief sleeves and a square neckline that shows off the ostentatious costume necklace of gold-plated chain and glass diamonds draped around her throat. Her voice is deliberately wispy and throaty as she leans toward the men

Comments

[crazy_relative]

Marco is sitting at the bar having a glass of wine when he becomes transfixed on her during her performance. Of course he notices the sort of men she sings to, as well. Some of them at least look as if they can do the things she's singing about, namely the parts about champagne and minks. But he understands the line "I'm gettin' hungry" with the daring notion that possibly, maybe, hopefully, even someone like him could hold her attention for an evening.

The Emcee had introduced her as Fritzie.

Right. Marco drains his glass and hops off the stool. Danny had often told him that if he ever came to the Klub, he would be welcome backstage -- so that's exactly where he heads, if just a bit hesitantly when he finds himself wandering down a dimly lit hall past the stage.

"Fraulein Fritzie?" he calls, the wine and music buzzing in his head.

[hot_lil_fingers]

Hearing her name, Fritzie emerges from the second door along the hallway in a relatively modest state of undress, her underthings being of the somewhat warmer, if still quite thin, cotton variety. Her hair is now pulled back with a bow that looks like a flamboyant red butterfly has landed on her head and in one hand is a tube of lipstick that she's finishing her touch ups with. She recognizes Marco from the audience but can't help her eyebrows lifting slightly with surprise; he hadn't struck her as the type to wander backstage in search of a thrill.

"Yes, mein Herr?" she asks with a warm smile, capping the lipstick.

[crazy_relative]

He stops in his tracks and makes a visible effort of not turning back and fleeing.

Oh dear...now what? he thinks (in Italian, of course).

"Buona sera, Fraulein," he begins, and clears a frog out of his throat. "My name is Marco, Marco Lorenzo, and I, uhh, just like to say, uh, that you sing very beautiful, and that you, uh, are very beautiful also, too." He nods to himself, thinking that this sounded correct enough.

[hot_lil_fingers]

Fritzie is always charmed most by the bashful ones, especially those that could bolt at any given second. She treats him like a frightened deer, not approaching him or making any grand overtures.

"How kind of you. Lorenzo? Any relation to the family that runs that wonderful Italian restaurant?"