Birds of a Feather (Oswald Cobblepot)

Remember, Things Change

    I'm walking in the upstairs area to check up on one of the other girls who's entertaining one of Falcone's men. Approaching the door, I politely knock,

"Maria, the show starts in twenty minutes, best wrap things up in there, alright?"

"Okay!" a female voice replies.

I smile and make my way back to the stairs when I hear a couple in another one of the rooms. I check and find that the room next door is empty. Entering the room, I cross to the mirror connecting the two rooms. Removing the adhesive layer, I look through and see that the couple is Fish and another man I don't recognize. He definitely isn't Lazlo, he looks considerably older and taller.

"Find something interesting?" I whip around and see it's Oswald, standing in the doorway.

I nod, "Fish's got another lover."

He crosses the room and peers with me, "Hang on...that's Nikolai, one of Falcone's men...but, they hate each other-"

"Shh! They're talking." I hush him, pressing my index finger against his lips.

"The old man doesn't suspect anything, right?" Fish asks as she and Nikolai cuddle in bed.

"Of course not," he replies in a thick Russian accent, "he will not suspect a thing when I wrestle him out. And you will be there, by my side."

She chuckles, stroking his cheek, "That's right," she smirks, blushing, "you devil."

I turn around and see Oswald gazing at them, mesmerized. I raise an eyebrow, "You can look all you want, but I've got a show to do."

I playfully mess with his hair as I make my way to the door, but I stop halfway through. Looking back, I see Oswald still staring at the couple in the other room. I sigh, my expression worried, I feel terrible right now, hopefully I'm not conveying that to him.

I walk back, and brush his shoulder, leaning in and whispering into his ear, "Don't forget about me, okay?" before I kiss him on the cheek.

He takes my hand, and kisses it, his mouth practically sucking on my palm. He releases it, and lets my hand slide from his, "How could I ever?"

I smile, before walking out of the room. A wave of guilt washes over me, how could I say such things to a dead man?

I prepare for the final number of the night in the dressing room. I adjust my costume, a pseudo-magician's outfit comprised of a white button up shirt with a black bowtie, cropped jacket with coattails, black shorts with fishnet stockings, and stiletto heels. To finish it off, a black top hat, white gloves, and a magician's cane. I check the rim of the hat and the tag reads: Mistress of Magic Tricks and Props.

I line up as the introduction music begins to play. Ann, dressed in a simpler black leotard and fishnets, taps me on the shoulder,

"Hey, do you know why Fish is closing up early tonight?"

I shrug, "Probably has some business to attend to. Maybe she's entertaining guests."

"I heard she's holding auditions for a new comedy act she's trying to put together," one of the other dancers suggests, "one of the other girls got caught sleeping with one of Maroni's men, so there's an open slot."

There's applause from the audience as we enter the stage, I myself taking front and center while the four other girls line up in spots to the side of me. Spreading my legs apart, I place my cane downward, with one end on the ground, pressing it down with my hands as I start to sing,

"You have to understand the way I am Mein Herr," I flip my head to the right, "a tiger is a tiger, not a lamb Mein Herr," my head then flips to the left, "you'll never turn the vinegar to jam Mein Herr," I turn and face front, "so I do," I take a step forward, "what I do," and I take another step, lifting my cane off the ground and resting it on my shoulder, "when I'm through," another step, "then I'm through," one more step, "and I'm through," I place my cane down, shifting myself sideways and leaning on it before waving to the audience and smirking, "Toodle-oo!"