Opening Night at Mel's

Posted on Tue Jun 6th, 2023 @ 6:41am by Melisandre D'Sai
Edited on on Mon Jun 26th, 2023 @ 6:55am

955 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Mission 4 - Like a Thunderbolt
Location: Faltan Station, Mel's Cabaret, Level 15
Timeline: MD06 - 1100

One last walk through because this wasn't her first opening night and she understood, from long experience, that no matter how carefully one planned, things always went wrong. Usually with costumes. Or dancers because they always had problems.

One last walkthrough. A chance to admire the dark and intimate ambience. Ideas she had cobbled together from a hundred different places, from her imagination, and from a dream she'd once had back when she was sixteen and traveling with her parents on a wreck of a freighter.

Art Deco crystal pedestal candle holders with dangling icicle prisms from the Hollywood Regency era of old Earth. There was one centered on each table to provide a gentler illumination for the customers and a bit of sparkle to reflect in the glassware used to serve drinks. There hadn't been anything gentle about the negotiations she'd had with Berek to get them because he was one shrewd Ferengi which made it enjoyable for both of them.

Customers would enter through the hatcheck room and wait to be seated. The hostess would lead them past the massive bar that dominated one end of the room. to the tables clustered around the dance floor. Every table had a snowy white linen tablecloth and seats made of dark wood and upholstered backs and seats. Comfort mattered. Comfortable people stayed longer, drank more.

Dark and intimate with a black and white color scheme and low level lighting. By design, the color, the drama, that was all on the stage and the dance floor. Intended to draw the eye, captivate attention. The carpeted seating area spread out in a semi-circle around the dance floor which was at the foot of the stage.

The stage dominated the other side of the room, directly across from the bar and to the left of the stage, on a raised and fenced off platform, was the house band.

And if you craved intimacy, shielded from other guests, you could request a table along the edge where screens, set between the banquettes, lent the illusion of privacy.

It all looked ... right. The dressing rooms, the costume closet, and her office were all in a private area to the right of stage. Guest bathrooms where up front on the other side of the bar.

Dressed in a long-sleeved, glittery cobalt blue gown, that clung to her lean figure, flaring enough at the hips to swirl about her as she threaded her way, in high-heeled black boots, through the tables across the dance floor and up the stairs on the side of the stage. A soft blue spotlight came on almost at once. Her hair was raven black tonight and worn in long, cascading curls with what looked like a diamond-studded clip holding back the hair on one side.

"Ready when you are, boss," Danal said over the sound system. "Just want to do a last check before the opening tonight."

Mel nodded and launched into a power ballad, an old one, that no one would ever hear. Not that she didn't have a good voice, even now, because she did but her days on stage were over. This was just for the technical aspects -- lighting and sound checks.

Tonight, was opening night. Burlesque.

She sang as though she were still a performer because she never did anything half-heartedly and as the last note faded she looked up toward where she knew the sound booth was and said, "That alright?"

"Perfect," Danal answered. "Looks like we're good to go, boss."

Later (around 2000)

The two dressing rooms were a madhouse of course. Always was right before a new performance. Cato, a tall Caitian with silver fur tipped in black and a spray of spots down his spine and a hard musculature of a professional dancer, changed into his outfit behind a screened partition. A line of crystals that traveled down the front of pants made of a material that seemed to change colors with his every movement. He had two numbers tonight, paired with the other male dancer, one with traditional ballet training, and the lead female dancer in the troupe.

They were difficult numbers but Cato and Misha both had the upper body strength needed to pull it off and together, they should be magic.

During the shows, Mel was always in motion. She ran the club with an iron hand and a no nonsense attitude. Working with Raoul, who was in charge of the costumes, she made sure that everyone was dressed, warmed up, and ready to go on. Raoul handled last minute repairs and, when it got to be too much, would call out to Mel in the language of their childhood ...'these seams aren't going to fix themselves, Mel ' ... or ... 'if you're done yelling at the girls, grab a glue gun and get over here' ... or 'I swear, if you don't get over here right now, I'm going to personally set the costume closet on fire ... fire, Mel ...'

At 08:00 p.m., the band was playing, the bartenders were finishing their setups, the waitresses were being checked by the front of house manager, and the bouncers, dressed in tuxedos, opened the doors for the first time and let their first guests in.

While in the back, Raoul was calling out, "Mel, I've got six pairs of heels without any actual heels. If you're done dillydallying around, get a glue gun and get over here ... or I swear, I'm gluing those pink puffs to their bare feet."

"I'm coming," Mel said as she paused beside one of the newer girls. "Deep breaths. You'll be fine once you hit the stage." But then, seeing how the girl's color started to turn, screamed, "Raoul, bring a bucket!"

 

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