Chapter Text
It was a bright, sunny, early afternoon in mid-March of 1925; the bits of snow leftover from the winter months had been rapidly melting from the warmth of the Spring sun. The songs of the chickadees, blue jays, white-throated sparrows, and other assorted Spring birds happened to be accompanied by another song. The song in question wasn’t something one would find within the depths of nature though. This song was being performed by a certain young man in Forest Park right at the edge of the softening waters of Bowl Lake, violin placed neatly between his shoulder and chin, bow in hand as he played a calm tune.
This young man was quite the capable kid, playing “The Last Rose of Summer” by Ernst while his mind wandered in different directions. His ears and tail reacted differently to each thought that happened to make itself known, but one thought, in particular, was pushing through harder than the rest.
What was he to do with his life? He was twenty-one years old now and had really been put through the wringer yet he still hadn't been able to find stable employment despite his best efforts. Of course, with his luck, there had been ample accidents and tragedies to follow like his very own shadow. Now that he was back in his hometown of St. Louis, Missouri, he hadn't a clue where to begin looking; not only for employment but for a place to call home as well. With his aunt adamant about keeping him away from his cousin, there wasn't anywhere for him to go.
As the young man concluded his solo, bow gliding across the strings in a long and paced stroke, there was a pause on his behalf as he listened to the birds that had patiently accompanied his piece, even going as far as bowing to the lake in front of him with a wide smile that really let his overbite shine through and his arms held out at his sides with a piece of his instrument in each hand.
It wasn't until there was slow applause emitting from behind him that the young man noticed the presence of another. He shot up with his ears at attention and whipped around to find a fine-looking gentleman with a long overcoat, a bowler hat placed upon his head right between his slightly rounded ears, and a cane resting upon his forearm by the crook handle as he clapped a few more times. The man wore a very faint smile as he proceeded to speak since there wasn't a word coming from the young man yet.
"I say, you play extremely well."
The man commented with his chin turning upward a bit before proceeding with his next question.
“Do you have a name, son?”
The tabby smiled and bowed again, this time to the audience of one that he hadn’t known was there.
“Glad you enjoyed it.”
He said as he brought himself back up.
“If you liked that, feel free to stick around! If you’ve got the time. Always nice to have someone to play for who enjoys hearing it. Don’t get me wrong, playing for the birds is fun and all, but they can’t exactly give reliable feedback. The chirping is nice though. Makes me feel like I’m not out here all alone.”
He paused for a moment, realizing that he still hadn’t answered the man's question. Moving his bow to accompany the violin in his left hand, he held out his right hand to the man for a proper greeting.
“Rocky Rickaby. How do you do?”
The man extended his hand in turn with a small nod, appreciating the eventual answer he received.
“Rocky, pleased to make your acquaintance.”
He said to go along with his firm handshake. Rocky’s weak grip didn’t go unnoticed by any means.
“Atlas May. Pardon my forwardness, but would you mind answering a few questions I’ve come up with during your performance? I dare say you’ve piqued my interest.”
“By all means, ask away.”
Rocky grinned. He couldn’t exactly say that he piqued many peoples’ interest. Their levels of concern may have risen quite a bit upon meeting him, but interest wasn’t quite the word he would use for that.
“I’m an open book. What did you want to know?”
Atlas nodded once again in thanks before walking past Rocky and situating himself upon the park bench that the tabby had been playing in front of. He was careful to leave the tattered suitcase and violin case that sat on the snowy patch of ground undisturbed as he invited the young man to sit next to him.
“To start, I simply wanted to know if you happened to be passing through or if you had a solid plan within the city. Depending on your answer, I may have follow-up questions.”
The man said, his gaze unmoving from the thawing waters just ahead.
Rocky thought for a minute as he sat in the free spot on the bench, taking a moment to tuck his violin safely back into its case. That question itself was the reason Rocky was playing in the park to begin with. He wasn't sure how to give an answer to a complete stranger when he didn't even know the answer himself.
"Well, if I'm being honest, I'm not quite sure if I'm staying or leaving. I did want to stay awhile at least now that I'm back home, but I don't know what I'll do here. It's all just a matter of finding work really. I'm still figuring it all out myself.”
That happened to be one of Atlas’s follow-up questions. It was nice to be able to get some of those answered without even having to ask.
“If you’re looking for work, I happen to know someone. He and his band have been on the search for a skilled violinist such as yourself. Would you be interested in such a position?”
The tabby’s ears perked up and his head whipped around to face Atlas.
“You’re offering me a job?”
He questioned. He had to be sure he had heard correctly. The only thing he had done to prompt the offer was play his violin in the park. Rocky wasn’t sure he’d be lucky enough to have a legitimate job offer come from that, but the small nod from Atlas let him know that his ears were in fact working properly. He could hardly help the huge, probably goofy grin that spread across his face.
“Well, what’s the gig? Are you sure the band will have me? Not that I don’t trust your judgment or anything, but you did only hear my play a single piece. I just want to be sure that I’m what they’re looking for before I make any sort of commitment.”
“You’re a smart boy in that regard then. Of course, the band is by no means my own, but it has been mentioned a number of times that they are looking for someone of your talent and have come up empty thus far.”
The man explained as he finally glanced across at the boy, seeing the joy and excitement clear upon his features.
“When you have the time, I can take you to them and they can further inspect. I’m not a musician myself, so I haven’t an idea of their extended requirements.”
He said, looking out over the lake again.
“I can tell you they like to travel quite a bit, but if you’re opposed to that, I’m sure we could work something out to where you can stay and play for us exclusively.”
"Well, travel is no problem for me."
Rocky assured him. He was more than used to being on the road.
"As for having the time, I'm available now!"
He was sure he sounded far too eager, but he couldn't hide his excitement.
Atlas pulled his pocket watch from his vest and checked the time briskly.
“Well then, let’s make haste. I’m sure it’ll still be fairly quiet for the next few hours so that should be plenty of time.”
He then stood from where he sat and put his watch back, starting to walk back the way he’d come from where he had parked his automobile.
“Great!”
Rocky beamed, eager to meet his potential new bandmates. He practically jumped off the bench in excitement, catching his foot on his suitcase as he did. Before he could steady himself, he flipped over it onto the ground at Atlas’s feet. His face scrunched up in pain and he looked up to see the older gentleman standing over him.
“Any chance you didn’t see that?”
He asked, sighing and cringing slightly from embarrassment when Atlas shook his head.
“You’re not going to mention this to the band, are you?”
"Your secrets are not mine to tell, son."
The man replied with a wink as he offered the end of his cane to assist the tabby to his feet.
Taking the end of the cane, Rocky pulled himself up to his feet and brushed himself off.
“Thank you.”
He smiled with a small nod, grabbing his suitcase and violin.
“You know, falling over like that really isn’t like me. I must have stood up too fast or something. I’m just excited to meet the band is all.”
He knew that that wasn’t entirely true. Tripping over his own suitcase was exactly the kind of thing he would be lucky enough to do, but he figured that with a job on the line, one little fib couldn’t hurt.
“Still, I appreciate your discretion.”
He added with a chuckle as they started walking.
Atlas nodded in turn and started to lead the young man toward the street he had parked on.
“While we are making the small journey, why don't you tell me a little more about yourself? I'm sure there's a story to you that I may find interesting.”
“Well, I don’t know about interesting.”
Rocky shrugged but continued with his story regardless.
“I’m from right here in St. Louis, but I’ve been traveling for a while now. Left when I was sixteen to stay with my uncle. I stayed there for a bit working the grounds for him, but when that went south, I headed west!”
He pointed in the directions he assumed were south and west respectively, a few of his belongings rattling around in the worn-down suitcase. His hands never stopped moving, seeming to have minds of their own as he told his story.
“That wasn’t the original plan, but it’s where I ended up. Headed out that way and worked a few odd jobs. Really odd jobs in some cases. Being a grill cook was exciting enough with the number of times I set myself on f-”
The young man stopped and looked over at Atlas with his eyebrows pulled together in concern. Setting oneself on fire didn’t exactly look good on the resume, so he cleared his throat and hoped that moving on as if nothing was said would be enough to avoid questions.
“I joined a circus!”
He said, maybe a little too loud, just trying to change the subject.
“Traveled with them for almost two years before moving on for no discernible or questionable reasons.”
He paused again, looking off to the side and pursing his lips. There wasn’t much more he could share without raising questions; too many unfortunate turns of events and surprise disasters, and he wanted to seem like a good fit for the band. Atlas may not have been a member, but he clearly had an influence to some degree. His mind was racing while he tried to wrap up his story quickly and without slipping up again and sharing any of his other ‘incidents’. None of those mattered now and there was no point in bringing them up when they would only hurt his chances.
“That’s uh- that’s pretty much it. Like I said, nothing too interesting. Now I’m back here and not really up to much of anything.”
The refined gentleman listened intently to the tabby's story with much interest despite how indifferent he appeared to be on the outside.
"You claim that it's not interesting but I think the opposite. Not many are fortunate enough to be able to travel as much as you have, not to mention the fact that you've been a circus performer."
Atlas began as they approached a fine-looking automobile, reaching forward to pull the passenger's door open for his company.
"It may seem mundane and lacking inspiration, but you're quite the young man with an array of possibilities despite your misfortunes.”
Rocky smiled at the older cat as he slid into the passenger's seat, nodding as thanks for the opened door.
“You really think so? Well, thank you, sir. I appreciate that.”
He situated his suitcase at his feet and laid the violin case across his lap, happy that things seemed to be going well so far. Looking around the automobile he realized that he hadn’t been asking any questions of his own. He didn’t even know where this band was or how Atlas knew them.
The young man nodded in thanks again as his door was closed and waited for Atlas to make his way around to the other side.
“So, where exactly are we headed?”
He asked when the other was settled into the driver's seat.
“Would you happen to be familiar with a place called the Little Daisy Café?”
Atlas asked as he put his cane neatly on the backbench of the vehicle, then inserted the key into the ignition and started the engine.
“The Little Daisy?”
Rocky scratched his head, knowing the name was familiar but he couldn’t place it.
“I think I’ve heard of it, but I can’t say I’ve ever been. I didn’t even know cafés had bands. Must be a fancy place.”
Atlas could only chuckle lightly at Rocky’s thought process on the matter.
“You’ll see when we arrive. I do have a favor to ask of you though.”
The man paused, glancing across at his new acquaintance as they began their drive.
“Since I’m keeping your secrets, I’m going to ask you to keep mine. Agreed?”
Rocky looked back at Atlas with his eyebrows raised.
"Secrets? What kind of secrets are you hiding at a café?"
He laughed and tried to think of what the man's secrets could be.
"Did you crack the code for the best coffee or pancakes or something?"
He clasped his hands together and turned back to Atlas with a hopeful look in his eyes.
"Please say it's pancakes."
“Well, there are some good pancakes available. Since we’re on the topic, I suppose it would only be appropriate to ask: are you hungry?”
The man asked, deciding to keep his secret for a while longer by deterring the conversation to something else. It was an honest question regardless since this young man appeared to be quite thin.
Any curiosity was long gone from the tabby’s mind and was replaced by pictures of fluffy, golden pancakes and sweet, syrupy goodness.
“Mr. May, I’m going to let you in on another one of my secrets.”
He said, placing a hand on Atlas’s shoulder.
“When it comes to pancakes, I’m always hungry.”
The man only nodded and raised his chin as they continued their drive. It wasn’t more than ten minutes before they pulled off to the side of the street and Atlas put the car into park. After grabbing his cane from the backbench, he walked around to the sidewalk to open the passenger’s door for the clearly excited tabby since he hadn’t gotten out yet.
Rocky stayed put with his violin and suitcase in hand, nearly bouncing in place while he waited for Atlas to open the door like he had when they first arrived at the vehicle. As soon as the door was opened, however, he jumped out as fast as he could, careful not to run into the other man in the process. He nodded his thanks again and looked around at his new yet familiar surroundings.
They were parked in front of a three-story building, the bottom level sporting a dark and classy wooden exterior and the top two floors being made of bricks. The bottom level seemed to house the café itself. There were striped, dome canopies over the two café windows and double doors leading inside. The sign to the top right of the doors read “Little Daisy Café” and featured a daisy right in the middle. Rocky didn’t pay much attention to the top two levels, not knowing if they were a part of the business itself, but he did notice another door to the left that more than likely led upstairs.
Rocky stepped closer to one of the large windows, peering through to get a small glimpse of the dining area inside the café.
“So, this is the Little Daisy?”
He asked, taking a few steps back to wait for Atlas to lead the way.
“It’s nice! I like it. How do you know about it? Do you work here or know the owner? I only ask because you seem to be important to the business in one way or another.”
"I own this lovely little place and all of its hidden revelations."
Atlas replied as he stepped forward and opened the right door for the tabby, allowing him to go in first before following close behind.
Inside of the quaint establishment, there was a counter to the left that happened to be lined with stools and daisies carved into the wood of the base; to the right, booths lined the wall. Patrons occupied a fair number of the seats and seemed to be having a grand time with their company and lunches.
As Atlas walked further into the café, shoes clicking against the checkered flooring, a woman smiled and greeted him as he guided Rocky through toward the back of the dining area. The man stopped in the small space that looked to be an ordinary pantry space. He let his cane rest upon his forearm, moved a jar of olives to the side, and glanced back at the tabby, bringing his finger up to his lips to make sure he knew to be quiet.
Rocky's ears pulled forward in attention as his curiosity increased. He hadn't a clue what was so interesting about this shelf that would warrant such a request but he nodded anyway. His ear flicked when the sound of glass breaking erupted from the kitchen, making him peer out from behind the wall, much like everyone else had. There was a string of apologies from the woman that stood behind the counter but the tabby found himself being yanked by the arm.
Before he knew what was even happening, he noticed that the shelf that Atlas had brought him to had been pushed forward, the man ushering him into the dark cavernous staircase then closing the hidden door behind them.
"I apologize, but I can't have my innocent-minded patrons knowing about this part of the café, or my knowing patrons thinking that we've opened early."
Atlas explained as he began leading the young man down the curved steps.
Looking around, Rocky started to wonder what on earth he had gotten himself involved in. This certainly wasn’t a part of the café and he had no idea where this man was leading him.
“I take it this isn’t a normal café.”
He commented as he followed Atlas further.
“Here’s an awkward question. You are bringing me down here to meet a band, right? Not, oh, I don’t know… my untimely demise?”
"An amusing thought, Mr. Rickaby."
The gentleman stated as they descended deeper into the dimly lit cave.
"No, this is not an ordinary café. Beneath lies an extensive network of tunnels and caverns where prohibited beverages are transported to keep them hidden. Above ground stands the Little Daisy, but underground is where the Lackadaisy dwells.”
The tabby didn’t even know where to start with trying to process that information. It was pretty easy to guess what ‘prohibited beverages’ meant and he had heard of places that sold such beverages during his travels, but he had never even considered visiting one and had no idea what to expect. Before he could ask any of the countless questions that were flooding his brain, however, Atlas stopped at the bottom of the staircase in front of a wooden door. Rocky simply looked between the door and the older gentleman and tried to hide the confusion he was sure was clear on his face.
Without another word between the two, Atlas raised his cane and knocked upon the wood; two short knocks, followed by a pause, and two more short knocks.
There was a moment of silence as the gentleman lowered his cane again before the door swung open. In the way of everything, a tall, burly, angry-looking man stood in the way.
This man in particular appeared to be quite fluffy with reddish-brown fur with a cream-colored snout and eyebrows. His single green eye glared down at the two and his arms were crossed over his chest in an extremely intimidating manner.
Rocky nearly dropped his suitcase as he looked up at the man with wide eyes. The scowl aimed directly at him was a little more than intimidating and he felt like the moment needed something to make it less so. Unsurprisingly, only one thought came to mind; a thought knew would either bring a smile to the burly man's face or a boulder-sized fist to his own. It was a risk he was willing to take.
"Well, Mr. May, I have to be honest here."
He said with an almost nervous chuckle.
"Having two doors in the same spot seems a little repetitive. This second one looks like he would do just fine on his own!”
Atlas’s brows raised in slight amusement at the comment Rocky had made. He glanced back at the young man with a small chuckle for a moment then back at the tall man who remained scowling and glaring at the stranger.
“This gentleman is with me, Viktor. He’s here to see the band.”
Atlas stated calmly.
The man now known to be Viktor kept his eyes on the new face as he stepped aside to reveal the awe-striking speakeasy just beyond his massive build.
The space was huge and glamorous; white and gold pillars stood tall and proud with places to sit located to the far right. To the far left resided the lavish bar adorned with expensive-looking bottles upon expensive-looking bottles of what one could only wisely assume to be alcohol.
Atlas began to walk into the fantastic space, his steps becoming muted due to the beautiful strip of red carpet that led up to the stage at the other end of the cave; more seating just in front of the platform. There were a few people about but those who happened to be there were clearly employees, including the group on the stage who all held instruments of some kind.
A ragged-looking gentleman dressed in red sat on the edge of the stage with a glass of amber liquid at his side and a saxophone in hand. A man dressed in green sat upon a stool just off to the side of the man in red and held a trumpet, and a man dressed in yellow stood with a bass beside the piano.
All of the band members appeared to be having a conversation as the man in red brought his instrument to his lips and played a small riff as if it was a demonstration of some sort.
Atlas walked up the few steps that went up the beautifully lit platform and stopped a few feet away.
“Dorian, if I may interrupt for a moment.”
The man in red lowered his saxophone and looked to the man who so graciously blessed them with his presence.
“It’s Zib, thanks.”
“Of course, pardon me. I’ve come with someone who may interest you.”
“Is that so?”
Zib asked as he raised his chin, looking at the tabby just behind Atlas.
"I believe that would be me."
The tabby smiled, setting his suitcase at his feet and reaching a hand out.
"Rocky Rickaby. According to this gentleman here, I just might be your new violinist."
The man in red extended his own hand with a bit of a smirk as they shook hands. Everything about this man seemed awfully sarcastic.
“Well, isn’t that nice. Come on up here and show us what you’ve got, kid.”
He insisted as they let go of each other’s hands, now picking up his glass and gesturing to the rest of the stage as an invitation.
As all of this was happening, a new presence entered the speakeasy in a calm and quiet manner. The man with black and white fur and fierce eyes looked in the direction of the stage, quickly noting the newcomer; tilting his chin upward as he watched him and the band’s leader shake hands before he proceeded to the seating area where Viktor happened to be.
“Finished already?”
The large man asked with his thick Slovakian accent once the other man sat in a very neat and purposeful manner.
“Yes. I’m sure Atlas will have something more for me to do once he’s concluded his business with... whatever this happens to be.”
The man replied under his breath as he adjusted his circular spectacles.
“Small noodle boy is no good. Von’t last.”
Viktor said as he leaned back in his seat, crossed his arms over his chest, and brought his right ankle up to rest upon his left knee.
“He’s certainly lacking in presentation.”
The man agreed quietly so that he would hopefully go unnoticed and be able to witness the events that were about to unfold, setting the book he had on his lap for now.
Back at the stage, Rocky and Zib made their way to the piano, the tabby placing the violin case on top of it and retrieving the instrument and bow. He had been thinking of what piece he could play since he left the park and he was sure he had figured it out. There was one piece he knew was short enough to not make this little audition drag on, but that was still just complicated enough to showcase his talents: Hungarian Dance No. 5 by Brahms.
He took a few steps back to stand center stage, looking to Zib as a silent way to ask when to start. With the slow nod from the other man as his sign, he brought the violin up to rest between his chin and shoulder. Readying his bow and making sure the finger placements were just right, he took a deep breath, letting it out as he pulled the bow down across the strings.
The note that sounded throughout the speakeasy made the tabby’s heart sink into his stomach; the flat, dissonant echo of an out-of-tune violin making his ears fold back and the fur on his tail stand on end.
Rocky quickly went to work tuning the instrument, hoping that he would be given another chance to play.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know how that happened.”
He said, avoiding making eye contact with anyone in the small crowd watching him.
“I was just playing at the park; I didn’t think it would be out of tune so soon. It’s only been in the case for a few minutes.”
Even as he tried tuning the violin, Rocky’s arms kept waving around while he spoke, as they always did. The young man looked down at his own arms, sighing and laughing nervously when he put the pieces together. Even a brand new, decent quality case wouldn’t hold a violin steady against that.
“That might have something to do with it.”
He said quietly, more to himself than anyone else, before finishing his tuning.
The new gentleman with the black and white fur shook his head and rolled his eyes at the noise that came from the tabby's instrument as he opened his book.
"Quite the superlative commencement."
He muttered under his breath which earned a grunt from Viktor.
Zib looked at Atlas with narrowed eyes for a moment, only receiving a nod in reply, then had his focus return to Rocky.
"If you're not ready, you can come back a little later when you are. We've got, what, four hours before we open?"
"Five."
Atlas corrected.
"Five hours."
The man in red repeated.
Rocky shook his head quickly, looking back at Zib once the instrument was tuned.
“No, no need to wait. I’m ready now.”
He said, a wide grin back on his face as he tried to brush off the little mishap and move on. He plucked one of the strings to show that everything was back in working order.
The man sitting with Viktor looked up from his book a moment, biting his tongue to keep from releasing a quip that wouldn't be heard anyway, then looked down at the words on the page again. He had decided that if there were any further offensive sounds, he wouldn't hesitate to take his leave and wait to ask for further instruction elsewhere.
Zib exhaled and glanced at the other band members who either nodded, shrugged, or both. He then took the final swig of his beverage and gestured for the newcomer to proceed.
Once he had the go-ahead to try again, Rocky brought the violin back up to his shoulder, plucking the strings individually one more time just to be certain. With another deep breath to calm his nerves, he readied the bow again, the note ringing out perfectly this time when he drew it back down across the strings.
The tabby let out a sigh of relief and continued the piece, ears perking back up and any hesitancy he had after his small mistake melting away as he played. By the end of the first line, Rocky’s confidence had fully returned.
When he was almost certain that he could make it through the rest of the song without any more slip-ups, he dared a quick glance at Zib , realizing quickly that he couldn’t decipher his expression. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing, so he looked around to find the other two band members he had seen. They were both watching intently but he still couldn’t tell what they were thinking. Turning his attention back to his violin, he decided that it would be best to simply focus on the task at hand. He put everyone else out of his mind and started to sway and move with the music as he played, slowly letting himself get fully lost in it now that he was a few lines in.
Not only did the tabby capture the attention of the band, but the black and white-furred man as well; jade eyes were suddenly pulled from the pages in front of his face and up to the ragged tabby, his ears pulled forward in deep interest. His white brows knitted together in something of shocked astonishment as he witnessed the capricious turnaround from oncoming disaster to elegant perfection. The passionate emotion that appeared to be added into both the finger work and each stroke of the bow against the strings was impressive and almost admirable.
Viktor glimpsed at the man beside him with a cocked brow, then at the violinist, then back at the man.
"You like this music?"
The man was pulled from his trance at the question and cleared his throat, forcing his eyes back down onto his book.
"The rhythm is too hasty. Perhaps if he decelerated, it would enhance his sound and overall performance."
His words were really just to deter any suspicions of his true thoughts on the matter as Rocky was actually playing the piece perfectly timed.
The tabby kept that perfect timing and the same level of emotion through the rest of the piece, blocking out anyone and anything besides the music. By the time the song was almost finished, he was so wrapped up in his performance that he was practically dancing in place; swaying back and forth with his eyes closed until he was only a handful of lines away from the end.
As the music began to slow down one last time, Rocky opened his eyes again. He was fully ready to end the song on a strong note, but when his eyes opened, he was instead surprised by a new face in the crowd. He knew he had gotten a good look at everyone when he first arrived, so the man must have come in after Rocky was already with the band.
The young man wasn’t sure what about the tuxedo-patterned cat caught his attention, but something did. Maybe it was the man's lack of color that made him seem somewhat mysterious: his red tie and bright green eyes being the only accents of color that Rocky could see. It could have been how he had managed to slip into the room and sit in plain sight without being noticed. Perhaps it was that he was the only one in the room who didn’t seem to be paying attention to the performance, focus entirely set on the book in his hands. Rocky didn’t know, but whatever it was compelled him to keep his eyes locked on the man in question for a little while longer.
As the pace slowed to a very soft, vibrato-filled sequence, jade eyes looked up toward the performer again only to see those brilliant blue eyes staring right back at him. It seemed to catch the man off guard and make him physically stutter as if he was trying to decide whether he should continue to stare back in a challenging sort of way or back down and immediately return to his book. With his white brows furrowing, his ears shifted back a bit and turned outward in confusion.
Rocky’s breath hitched in his throat, a little embarrassed from being caught basically staring at the man. He could feel his fingers slip for just a moment from the distraction, thankfully perfectly timed at a pause in the music. He looked away from those piercing jade eyes with a strange feeling of guilt for having held the eye contact for so long. Shaking his head to ground himself and bring his attention back to his music, he moved on with the end of the piece, hoping that he hadn’t paused long enough for it to be noticed.
As the final bar was played, the tuxedo-patterned man glanced back down at his book, noting that his opponent had swiftly declined the challenge.
As soon at Rocky played the final note, there was silence aside from the echo through the grand caves, all that were in range of the music having stopped what they were doing near the very beginning; some had even stepped into the large room to have a better listen.
After he finished the song, Rocky slowly lowered the violin, not quite ready to face Zib and hear what he had to say. He wanted to look out to the small audience and gauge their reactions first, but the first place his eyes went to was back to the mysterious man with the book. He was hoping that there would be some kind of reaction from him, but there was none. He simply sat there next to Viktor reading his book while the taller, meaner-looking cat sat with the same scowl he had had when Rocky first arrived.
Doubting his performance for only a second, Rocky brushed it off and moved on. Neither Viktor nor the other man looked like the type to show any kind of enjoyment to begin with. Their faces were too serious and it made Rocky wonder if either of them ever showed emotion of any kind. Other than what seemed to be anger and annoyance in Viktor’s case, of course.
Looking away from the two men, Rocky let his eyes wonder around the rest of the room, quickly judging expressions as best as he could. Most of the others had at least small smiles on their faces. They all looked around and nodded at each other as if silently agreeing that they enjoyed the performance. The tabby took that as a good sign and finally turned back to Zib.
"I got a couple questions before we set anything in stone."
The ragged man in red began, gesturing for the tabby to move closer and take a seat on the stool that stood nearby.
“Of course.”
Rocky said before putting his violin away and taking the seat provided.
“What all do you need to know?”
"First things first, do you know how to play jazz?"
Zib asked and motioned to the saxophone in his hand; a key indicator of the type of music this particular band played.
"I'm not entirely sure. I've never tried."
The young tabby admitted, hoping that it wouldn't be too much of an issue.
"I'd be happy to learn though if you've got someone who can teach me. I'm a pretty fast learner."
“Well, that depends. Do you need sheet music to read or can you improvise and learn by ear? None of us play violin obviously, so if you can manage by ear, I’m sure we could try it out with you.”
Zib said as he fiddled with some of the keys on his instrument.
“We’re going to practice in about an hour and go until just before this place opens up. We can try a few things and see what works.”
"I do most of my learning by ear, so that shouldn't be a problem."
Rocky shrugged, trying hard not to show how truly excited he was now that he was pretty sure he had made the cut. His little tuning slip-up had him worried, but it seemed like Zib had all but forgotten about it.
“And what about traveling? We do some of that from time to time.”
The man continued on with the short little interview.
“That wouldn’t be a problem for me. I’m used to the traveling by now.”
He had never been crazy about moving around, but he was willing to do it. Besides, from what he could tell the band’s main gig was there at the Lackadaisy. If he was right then that meant he could travel with them occasionally and then come back home to St. Louis and still be a part of the band. That seemed like the perfect arrangement to the tabby and he would gladly make it work.
Zib proceeded to look at the other members that were now with their instruments, two new faces added to the group as well.
"Well? Any of you have any thoughts?"
All of the other gentlemen looked amongst each other, giving their nods of approval before looking back at the saxophone player and all giving another nod and mutters of approval once they had made their unanimous decision.
"Well, Rocky. Guess you're one of us now. Congrats, kid."
Zib said with a slap on the tabby's back.
Rocky’s eyes lit up and his smile may as well have taken up his entire face with how big it was. He jumped up from the stool with his hand reached out to Zib to thank him properly.
“I can’t thank you enough for the opportunity. I promise you will not regret this!”
After shaking the man's hand, he turned on his heels to greet the rest of his new bandmates, running right into the stool he had just been sitting on. He tried to reach out and grab it before it could fall, but a second later it had crashed to the ground at his feet. The sound echoed through the cave and the tabby looked back at the man in red with a nervous laugh.
“At least, you won’t regret it too much.”
Quite literally everyone had flinched at the loud noise and were all in the process of recuperating when Zib sighed and shook his head.
"We're going to practice in about an hour so go grab yourself a drink and get yourself ready for some kinda lesson. Maybe go meet some people."
The man at the piano stood and approached the violinist.
"I think we should be the ones to come to you. I'm Mozzie."
He said as he extended a hand out toward Rocky, the other members approaching soon after.
“Pleased to meet you.”
Rocky said as he shook Mozzie’s hand before turning to face the rest of the group.
The man in yellow that Rocky had seen by the bass when he came in walked up next.
“The name’s Ben.”
He said with an outstretched hand.
“I play bass. You sure do seem to have a knack for the violin. We’re glad to have you.”
“Thank you.”
Rocky beamed.
“I’m glad to be here.”
Another one of the new faces, a man in a light gray suit with a trombone in his left hand, followed after Ben.
“JJ.”
He said simply, only shaking Rocky’s hand for a quick second before letting go.
“I’m on trombone, of course.”
JJ added, bringing the instrument to his lips and playing a single note before stepping to the side and motioning for the last member to introduce himself.
“And I’m Sy. Trumpet.”
The man in green said, offering up a sort of lazy salute to the newcomer with a cigarette resting between his first and middle finger.
Rocky looked at the group, going over everyone’s names in his mind so he wouldn’t forget.
“It’s nice to meet you all. Thank you for having me.”
He looked around the room, wondering if anyone else was involved with the band in any way. There were still a few others he had yet to meet and he knew they all worked for the Lackadaisy in some way seeing as they weren’t open yet. As his eyes scanned the room, they once again found their way to the black and white cat. The man still sat reading his book next to Viktor. The tabby decided the introduction could wait until he had met the rest of the crew, not wanting to disturb the man while he read, and turned back to Zib to ask about any other members.
“So, is this everyone in the band?”
"There's one more but she's probably going to be a little late. Mitzi's on ukulele."
The man in red explained just before he was interrupted by Atlas knocking on the stage below.
"Mr. Rickaby, why don't we use your spare time to get you acquainted with some of my staff? I can provide you with that meal I offered on the way over. A sort of congratulatory gift."
The well-dressed gentleman said with a knowing look in his eyes.
Rocky nodded quickly at Atlas before turning back to Zib, his mind on nothing but delicious, buttery pancakes now. He started to walk back towards the front of the stage, finger guns pointed in the band's direction.
“Well, I can’t wait to meet her, but I’ve got a hot date with a stack of pancakes.”
He said as he continued to walk backward.
“Um, Rocky?”
JJ spoke up, sounding concerned.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back in time for practice!”
Rocky assured him as he took one final step back, his foot falling right past the edge of the stage.
Without missing a beat, just as Rocky was about to fall off of the platform, Atlas brought his cane up and jabbed it into the tabby's back with enough force to push him back up onto stable ground to avoid injury.
Rocky stumbled back onto the stage, wide-eyed and slightly out of breath from where the cane had pushed into his back, but thankful for the quicksave nonetheless. He looked back at the older gentleman with an embarrassed smile.
“Thank you, sir. I uh- that fall wouldn’t have felt too good.”
He looked down at the floor at Atlas’s feet where he had almost ended up.
“Do you think they noticed?”
He whispered, pointing back towards the band.
The man glanced past the tabby and noticed that they were all looking their way but seemed to continue on with their conversation shortly after.
"Yes, but it doesn't seem to be any trouble."
"Well, he's quite the double entendre that seems to be severely lacking hilarity."
The mystery man stated after witnessing the near-calamity, snapping his book shut and earning a look from Viktor that didn't go unnoticed.
"What? Surely you agree. This ignoramus is going to cause nothing but catastrophe everywhere he steps."
The man continued once there was no response, standing from where he sat and adjusting his attire.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I must abscond before a formal introduction becomes de rigueur."
Rocky didn't turn back around to face the band, hoping to just brush past the near-miss. Instead, he crouched down on the stage, bracing himself on the edge and jumping off of it to land beside Atlas. When he was safely off of the stage, he motioned for the other to lead the way before looking past him to see the black and white cat leaving his table.
"Hey, more introductions!"
He said happily, assuming he was coming over to say hello and stepping forward to meet him halfway. After a few steps, however, he realized that the man wasn't walking towards him but rather was making his way out of the speakeasy.
Rocky stopped walking, scratching the back of his head in confusion.
"I guess not."
He said, turning back to Atlas.
"Hey, Mr. May, who was the guy talking to uh- ah jeez, what was his name? Vikram? Vincent? Vikki? No, I'm sure that's not it."
He brought a finger up to tap against his chin, seeming to be in deep thought as he tried to remember the name Atlas had used for the actual door-man.
“I believe you mean Viktor.”
The older gentleman stated as he started to walk with the newest band member, watching as the man in question headed for one of the exits near the bar. There was the temptation to call him back before he could make his escape but Atlas decided to refrain and save Rocky the bitter and brutally honest welcome.
“That would be Mordecai Heller. Why do you ask?”
The man glanced down at the tabby with an elevated brow.
"Hm? Oh, no reason."
Rocky said, waving his hand dismissively but still watching after Mordecai as he left.
"Just want to get to know everyone. Since we're going to be working together and all."
"Unless you can manage running numbers and playing in the band, you won't likely see much of him. He's not the most social of the bunch."
Atlas explained, watching as his associate slunk out of the doors, then focused on where he was walking until they made it to the door they entered from and started back up the stairs to the café.
"I'm not sure you'll be able to understand half of the words he says anyway. He has quite the vocabulary."
“I’m sure I can keep up.”
The tabby laughed as he followed Atlas up the stairs. He pushed the mysterious, apparently very anti-social cat out of his mind, for the time being, focusing on something much more important.
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see though. As for right now: it’s pancake time.”