Years: 2019 // 1927
Location: Chinatown, NYC, NY // Harlem, NYC, NY
Time: Mid-Afternoon - Evening. //
Once inside her place sheâd lock the door behind her, place her running belt on the kitchen bar-top, detach her phone from the belt, and slip out of her sneakers, before flouncing down on her couch with the box of tarts.
Amelie pulled up Spotify on the Smart TV in the living room and started up one of her playlists before placing a few tarts in her lap as she leaned back into the couch and began to scroll social media.
After answering a host of notifications on Instagram and Twitter Amelie started to browse various shopping sites, until eventually landing on the website of the same boutique she bought her 20s flapper dress from the other day.
The dress she had bought was beautiful, and she loved it, however as she kept browsing the boutiques web page she realized she wanted something a little more glamorous than what she bought.
The siteâs 20 vintage section was filled with fringe, but being the history buff she was Amelie knew fringe was not something actual flappers wore, so sheâd continue to scroll through the 20s section until she landed on a beautiful authentic 20s sequin evening gown. The style was beautiful to the modern eye, but also still true to the more glamours side of the roaring twenties fashion scene.
Amelie would shove the last tart on her lap in her mouth before dialing the boutique - she wanted to verify they had the dress and hat she saw on their site, in stock in their shop.
After waiting on hold for a few minutes the boutiqueâs cashier on the other end of the phone confirmed they indeed had the set in-stock at their NYC location. Amelie wouldnât waste any time, sheâd keep on her two piece running attire, slip back into her sneakers, and grab her card and phone before leaving for the shop.
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By the time Irealia actually responded back to her Amelie had arrived back home from the boutique, took a shower, and was halfway through her favorite Steven Spielberg flick - The Lost World: Jurassic Park.
âHey, a plan you say? I hope itâs nothing crazy hun. Call Meâ
Amelie would read her friends text and sigh at having to call her during her favorite movie, even though she had watched the flick so many times she could quote it word-for-word.
âHello?â Irealia said, picking up her phone only after a single ring.
âWhy canât you wake up at a normal time? Youâre making me miss my movie!â Amelie responded, causing Irealia to laugh. âNice talking to you as well.â
After a few friendly jokes Amelie would go on to tell Irealia about a legendary night spot in Harlem called The Cotton Club.
Sheâd go on and on about the flapper culture, the Jazz performances, and how it was such a major hot spot in NY at itâs height. Eventually Irealia would have to cut her off and inquire about what exactly the Cotton Club had to do with this plan she had.
âYou said bring them to us! You know, a place thatâs large and crowded. Plan for them to be there, toy with them in a sense. Well, the Cotton Club was huge, extremely crowded, and well - the it place to be!â
Irealia snorted at Amelieâs respond. âYou think I forgot about your little obsession with flapper culture - didnât you? I bet you just wanna go to this club for selfish reasons, no?â
âHey, it's not just because of that!â Amelie yelled into the phone, quick to defend herself. It was true Amelie had an immense interest in the performing arts, loved flapper culture, and often read books and articles about such things, and she admitted her love of flapper culture did influence her choice of the Cotton Club, but was quick to point out that the crowds and scene was the driving force behind picking the venue she did.
âItâs a large venue Irealia! I know the place, Iâve studied up on it a lot! I even know exactly what day we could go back to! A day where the crowds were wild for Bobby Short, the place was packed, we could doll ourselves up, itâll be great!â
Irealia could sense her friends excitement, and wasnât necessarily against the idea, but was failing to see the point in such a plan.
âOkay, I hear you, but whatâs the point? We could go someone else to drag them out - why this Cotton Club?â
Amelie Sighed. âI know, but think about it, itâs the 1920sâŠ.weâd be heavily restricting their attire, weâd make it a lot harder for them to use whatever technology they use - stifling their communication abilities among other things, and thereâs literally no way they could snatch us from that place without us making a scene - which wouldn't be worth it for them, think about it!â
Irealia was quick to point out that most of the things Amelie listed would also be negatives for them, and her pupil agreed.
âYes, but the difference is - weâll be ready! And weâre also not trying to catch someone, they are, meaning theyâre be constantly looking for opportunities to pounce, theyâll be more one edge than us - no matter how calm they attempt to be. On the other hand, weâll be right at home.â
She began to see the point her friend was making, but Irealia still felt like there was something else Amelie wasnât telling her.
âOkay, fine, lets do this thing - tonight. But Amelie, if whatever youâre not telling me backfiresâŠ.â
Amelie quickly cut off her friend.
ââŠ.just trust me.â
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Amelie would spend the rest of her afternoon binge watching Jurassic Park and reading the âThe Legendary Cotton Clubâ book she had purchased on her Tablet, as well as the âThe Roaring Twenties in New Yorkâ book she had up in her room, during commercial breaks.
Around 8pm sheâd text Irealia to see if she could come over so they could begin to get ready. Her friend wouldnât respond, and instead appeared in the middle of her living-room five or so minutes later.
âOne day Iâm going to accidentally hit you over the head with something, you know, because I mistake you for a burglar.â
The two women laughed and teased each other briefly before making their way up to Amelieâs bedroom.
âTwo beautiful dresses! Do I get to choose which one I want?â Irealia inquired as she spotted the two 20âs-themed dresses laying on her friends bed.
âOh no, this one is mine! You can have the other one.â Amelie said, making sure to quickly pick up the sequin evening gown she had purchase earlier in the day.
âWhy? This other one is a true flapper dress, I thought youâd like that more, no? The one youâre claiming is an evening gown!â
âI know, I have my reasons - leave me be!â
Amelie would playfully stick her tongue out at her friend before going into her closet and pulling out a short dark brown bob-cut wig.
Irealia would help her tie and pin her long thick hair down so she could place the wig cap over it and then slip on the wig.
It was weird for Amelie to see herself with short hair, but after a few seconds of staring at herself in the mirror sheâd undress down to her undergarments and then slip into her beige gown.
âWow, you look quite beautiful! Youâll be all the rage!â Irealia said with a smirk, but even though Amelie agreed the gown itself was beautiful she was insecure wearing it and began questioning her own plans.
âI donât know, maybe this whole plan is too much, we could call it off.â
Irealia would have nothing of her suggestion as she began to slip into the nude crepe flapper dress Amelie had bought a couple days ago.
âLook missy, I know thereâs something youâre not telling me, and if you want to spill before we go - spill it, but youâre most definitely not calling it off now.â
Amelie sighed as she grabbed the sequined turban that matched her dress and slid it over top her wig. She was a nervous wreck. An introvert who was never quite comfortable with her femininity and sexuality, Amelie knew making herself into a spectacle for a crowd of men went against everything she typically did. She was hoping the years of acting in jr. high and high school plays and being a theatre nerd of sorts would be enough to get her through the night.
âI can do this, itâs just like a play, or a movieâŠ.yeah, Iâm in the Great Gatsby, playing a role.â she whispered to herself as she stared in the mirror.
Irealia acted as if she didnât hear her friend talking, and continued getting ready.
Only after both girls had slipped into their matching silver matte 3-inch heals, and put on their deep red lipstick and subtle accessories, would Irealia speak up again.
âI found this little gem after talking to you on the phone earlier, itâs the same color as yours, I guess weâll be sisters?â Sheâd hold up a deep brown finger wave wig and show it off for a bit before slipping it on.
âSisters it is! I donât really have purses that match the times, but I do have jackets from the era with pockets.
Amelie would pull out a long black single breasted overcoat out of her large closet for herself and point to another, shorter, single breasted jacket for Irealia. However her friend would make her way into the closet and pull out a long brown fur coat.
âI think I like this more, it has pockets too, and theyâre on the inside - how interesting!â
Amelie rolled her eyes. âSeriously?â
âWhat? Furcoats where all the rage in the 20s, this fits the time just as much as your jacket!â Irealia would slip the heavy jacket on and playfully pose in the mirror.
âIâm not saying it doesnât fit the times, Iâm just saying itâs a bit extra, but you know what - I donât care, are you ready? Irealia would nod. "Okay, well there isnât anywhere directly near the club we can go but from reading I know there is a shop at the end of the block thatâs owned by friends of the guy who owns the club. They would close the shop early whenever big acts were slated to appear at the Cotton Club. If we go back to November 30th, 1927 the big headliner of the night was Bobby Short. He was a popular guy, thereâs no doubt the shop at the end of the block was closed so we can land there!â
Irealia nodded as she sat down on the bed, sucked into something on her phone.
The room was silent as Amelie entered her heightened state, saw the time and place of where she wanted to go in her mind's eye, and focused until the image of their drop location appeared inside the portal. She'd then begin to smooth out the edges of the portal using Lux, all while Irealia went through her stash of various currency - carefully picking out 20 one dollar bills that were dated appropriately for the time period they were traveling to.
âWithout purses I think youâre going to have to carry Lux in your pocket. Iâd do it but my jacket is far more fitted than yours, plus the pockets on mine are on the outside while yours are in the inside. The only negative is that youâll have to stay in that jacket the entire time, we canât risk you taking it off and losing Lux.â Amelie remained in her elevated state a she tossed Lux to her friend and then quickly topped off her cat's water bowl.
âNot a problem. It's the end of November in NYC, and I bet the place we're going to doesn't have central heat, meaning it'll be cold so Iâll be fine keeping it on.â
The two went back and forth for a moment about whether or not there would be central heat in the Cotton Club before Irealia would hand Amelie ten of the one dollar bills and then the two would make their way inside the portal.
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When they came out the other side of the portal they were instantly greeted by near pitch darkness and immense cold. The only bit of light was courtesy of lights out on the street shining in through the shopâs front windows.
âOh my God, itâs so cold!â Amelie whispered as she dropped her heightened state of being and buttoned her coat.
âAnd thank goodness for this lovely fur coat.â Irealia joked, just as the portal closed behind her.
Amelie would take a second to look around before pointing to a side exit.
âLets go out there. Doubt thereâs anyone in the alleyway at this hour, and if there is theyâll think weâre with the owners or something the way weâre dressed - for sure.â
When the girls walked outside the alleyway was a lot brighter than one would assume, and it was completely empty. Amelie held the train of her gown in one of her hands so it wouldnât touch the ground as they made their way out of the alleyway. Once on the street there were many people out and about in force at nearly 8:45pm - according to a large clock on a nearby building, and as they approached the bright lights of the Cotton Club the accumulating Taxiâs and long lines worried Irealia.
âHow in the world are we going to get inside this place? Even if we look of wealth, so do half the people in this line.â
Amelie nodded, the sensation of butterflies welling up inside of her stomach becoming quite noticeable.
âLook bitchy and follow me.â
Amelie walked past the line of men and women and straight up to the door, with Irealia somewhat nervously following behind her, and as expected the duo were stopped by the doorman.
âHey, just where do you two broads think youâre going?â the doorman asked before aggressively grabbing Amelie by the arm. Nervous to no end Amelie swallowed for a second before putting on quite the brave face.
âWell Iâll have you know TK is waiting inside for me and my sister, you wouldnât want to upset him would you?â
The doormanâs grip on her arm loosened a bit for a moment as his eyes widen, but theyâd quickly narrow and his grip would tighten a bit before he leaned in, responding to her quietly enough that only her and Irealia could hear.
âWhat did you say broad? You should think twice beforeâŠâ Amelie would cut him off before he could finish his sentence.
âWhy I never, you could have him finger me but after I tell him how you manhandled meâŠâ
Amelie purposely let her sentence end short and linger for a few seconds, causing the man to doubt his decision to deny her entrance.
Sure enough heâd end up letting go of Amelieâs arm and begin apologizing profusely, stuttering a bit.
âI-Iâm sorry Doll, g-go in, please, sorry.â
Amelie smugly walked by the man and into the club - pulling Irealia behind her.
Once inside the smug expression went away and she was once again the nervous shy girl second guessing her plan.
âAre you going to tell me who TK is?â Irealia asked in a whisper as the two pushed through the crowd and made their way towards the main bar.
Amelie would stop several feet back from the bar and lean in close to Irealiaâs ear - whispering so softly that even Irealia herself struggled to hear.
âTK is short for The Killer, Owney Maddenâs nickname. He runs the place, and is also kinda connected to the mob and stuff, but no worries, heâs not even here tonight - weâre good!.â
Amelie would make her way towards the bar and order Lemon Juice once there. Irealia would stand in shock for a few moments before following her friend over to the bar.
"Oh, no worries, we just used the ominous nickname of a mob guy to push our way into his club....yeah, that's totally nothing to worry about.... Irealia thought, before she went to order, however before she ould Amelie would lean in and tell her that the Cotton Club was also a speakeasy, and the way to order alcohol with her drink was to put the word âPureâ in front of her order.
âAh, well isnât that cuteâ Irealia responded softly, before leaning into the bar and asking for a âPure Orange Juice.â
The two women would take a couple sips of their drink and look around the rather packed establishment and up towards the stage at the front of the room that was seating a small band behind an empty microphone.
âI thought you said there was a show here tonight?â Irealia whispered as she maneuvered closer to Amelie, attempting to break contact with the touchy old man behind her.
âYeah, about thatâŠâ