to Berlin with love.

[runningred]

 From here

Jay opens the door into a quiet back alley that could belong to any city - the lingering scent of garbage and the miss-matched colours where graffiti has been washed off or painted over. In the mid-afternoon chill of early spring, he takes Emcee's hand and leads him out into the street, pocketing the key. The sunlight is thin but warm and picks out the green swell of buds in the branches. The tree lined avenue is quiet this time of day. Not lacking in people but without rush, a lazy Saturday afternoon.

Comments

[runningred]

"We should find a copy." Jay suggests softly to Emcee. "When we get home."

But part of him is wondering if Emcee knew this English ex-pat. If he was a regulars at the Klub.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee is pulled out of his thoughts, and he looks up at Jay and nods with a smile, though it's a bit distant and distracted.

"Yes, we should," he agrees, before taking a sip of gin.

The question on his lips may be a dangerous one, but he asks it anyway. It's like jumping off a cliff.

"Do you know what happened to the Kit Kat Klub?"

The bartender scratches his chin. "Well, it's not quite clear, given the time period. During the early- to mid-Thirties, there were raids on many similar places to shut them down. Around this time the owner may have tried to keep it open by changing the nature of the establishment-- either opting for more 'conventional' entertainment that complied with prudent standards, or turning it into a restaurant. Somewhere along the line it changed hands. But it definitely was not its old self after the War."

Emcee tries not to look too shaken. He grips his glass so tightly that his fingertips are white.

"That's a shame," he manages to say.

[runningred]

Jay manages to cup Emcee's hand, sliding the glass out of his fingers before it breaks.

Jay glances to the barman. "Can you excuse us for a moment?" He gently leads Emcee away to a quiet corner, putting his arms protectively around him, shielding him from the world.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee lets himself be led away in a daze, and he finds himself with Jay's arms around him, his cheek pressed to Jay's shoulder. For a while he just stands there, stunned and silent.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs hoarsely as he curls his fingers into Jay's shirt. "I had to ask. I had to know, but I didn't-- I didn't expect it to hurt that much to hear it."

[runningred]

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, love. We both knew this wouldn't be easy. But I'm here, okay? You're not alone. No matter how many ghosts are pressing in one you right now, you're not facing them alone."

[i_am_your_host]

He inhales sharply, his breath hitching.

"Ghosts. That's what they are. Ghosts of everyone and everything I ever knew."

He swallows hard as tears sting his eyes, but he wills them not to fall. After a few moments, he shifts and pulls away just enough to pick his head up and wipe an eye with the heel of his hand.

[runningred]

"And your legacy." He whispers, kissing Emcee's cheek.

He holds Emcee as he wipes the tear away. "There are bathrooms just behind you if you want to get cleaned up. Then we can go somewhere else for a little while." Somewhere the ghosts aren't quite as thick.

[i_am_your_host]

He doesn't say anything about a legacy and passively accepts the kiss to his cheek. But he does manage to croak out a dry chuckle.

"I know where the bathrooms are."

Gently moving out of Jay's arms, he steps away and heads for the men's room. It's clean and shiny and almost depressingly modern. He can't imagine giving anyone a blowjob in one of those stalls or snorting cocaine off the edge of the sink.

But he dries his eyes and fixes his makeup, and takes a few moments to compose himself. He comes out looking a little better, determined to get through today.

"I at least need to finish my drink."

[runningred]

Jay's leaning on the bar when he comes out, chatting to the barman. Things are starting to warm up, a few more people arriving as tourist hour ends and the real crowd arrives.

He nods and offers Emcee his glass.

"On me." The barman pours him another drink. "Your friend told me you had family working here during the war. When it was the Kit Kat Klub. You drink here free, any time you like."

[i_am_your_host]

Again, Emcee is stunned into silence, but this time it's of a different sort.

He takes the glass from Jay, looking at him with slightly widened eyes. And then he looks at the barman.

"Yes. I-- I did. Thank you."

That's a simple but brilliant explanation, which actually kind of makes Emcee want to cry for real. Instead he empties his glass, and takes the other.

"I just feel very-- intensely connected to this place, even though it's no longer what it was. But that's how life goes. We all have to move on."

[runningred]

The barman gives him a gentle nod. "We all have some connections to the darkest parts of our nation's history. And it's important to keep those connections alive. If we forget, we risk it happening again."

He glances around, catching another barman's eye and nodding. "Look, I got a break coming up. Do you wanna meet me out back? I've got some stuff that might interest you."

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee takes a sip of gin and glances from the bartender to Jay and back again.

"Yes, sure," he says, his curiosity piqued. "What kind of stuff?"

[runningred]

"Old photos, some personal affects." He explains. "The place has been renovated so many time but I found a few boxes that had been shoved in a roof cavity. I can't promise any of it belonged to your family but... it feels right to give it to someone who was connected to this place."

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee's eyes become even wider, and he gapes a little as he considers this.

"I-- yes! Yes, thank you, I would certainly like to see what you've found."

The whole idea feels strange. But Emcee has to know more, no matter how much it hurts. Because maybe...maybe then he'll know what to do.

[runningred]

The barmen nods. "I'll grab it and meet you round back."

Jay finished his drink and wraps an arm around Emcee's waist. "You okay with this?" He asks, letting Emcee take the lead to wherever the back is.

After all, Emcee knows this place better.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee finishes his drink in a few swallows. It's almost like having stage fright.

"Yes," he answers with a nod. "I need to see what's left."

There's a glowing exit sign above a passageway between the restrooms and the stage. Of course, in Emcee's time, the sign wasn't there. Nor was the 'staff only' notice that doesn't seem to be enforced at all.

Emcee takes Jay by the hand and leads him through. It's dim and narrow and a bit musty-- at least this hasn't changed. The passageway opens onto a hall lined with closed doors. Here, Emcee stops short.

"These are the dressing rooms," he murmurs. "Or, they were."

The doors are old, the brass knobs tarnished with age. Except one is now a storage room, another a supplies closet. The third, in fact, remains a dressing room for whatever acts pass through here.

On a whim, Emcee bends down and peeks through the keyhole. It's dark inside.

"Peeping toms come back here to watch the boys and girls undress," he chuckles.

[runningred]

"And I'm sure you use to play up to those peeping toms too." Jay chuckles. "I can imagine you undressing just a little slow than needed, just to give them a show."

He runs a gentle hand up Emcee's back. "Come on."

The barman's out the back in the alley, smoking a cigarette with the slow intensity of someone who only allows themselves one a day. "Hope you don't mind?" He gestures with the cigarette.

[i_am_your_host]

"Of course they got their eyeful," he snorts with a chuckle.

The hall goes further on a bit, lit at the end by another exit sign. Emcee pushes the door open (new, with modern security), and out into the alley. They could have gone out of the bar and around the building, but where's the adventure in that?

"Mind?" he says to the barman. "Are you kidding? They're part of my daily diet."

[runningred]

Jay might have slipped something over the lock of the door as they head out. Just in case they want to go back that way. There was no thought involved, more of a reflex actions.

The barman nods and offers them the pack, lighting them with a battered 50s zippo. "I've been trying to quiet but it's not working so far." He takes another slow drag, savouring it.

He picks up the shoe box he has resting on one of the bins and offers it to Emcee. "I hope there's something in there that helps you connect."

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee thanks the barman for the cigarette and takes a much-needed drag. "I don't know how I made it this far on this trip without one," he chuckles.

It's a chuckle designed to hide his nervousness. Because as he takes the shoe box, he's not quite sure if he isn't going to drop it and send its contents scattering.

So he sets it back down on the bin. And he braces himself as he removes the lid.

Papers. Yellowed, aged papers. Notes, handwritten and typed. Pages from a financial ledger. Emcee is startled to see how aged they are, flaking at the edges, when back home they would be as fresh and crisp off a typewriter.

"Oh, look, a cocktail menu," he says with amusement as if it were a relic, when copies of it are on every table at the Klub back home.

There are photographs at the bottom of the box. Emcee tries not to dive at them at once.

[runningred]

Jay reaches out to steady the box, letting Emcee rummage safely. And to make sure his hands aren't shaking visibly.

The barman laughs softly. "Yeah, I've tried making a few of those cocktails. They've been pretty popular."

[i_am_your_host]

"Well, you can't beat an original classic." They're classics now, aren't they? It's a strange and...somewhat depressing feeling. Still, some things must endure.

Emcee carefully unfolds what turns out to be piano sheet music. The paper is brittle and in danger of crumbling in his hands, so he treats them as delicately as if they were flower petals.

"Oh my god," he mumbles under his breath. He recognizes the handwritten notations in pencil as Herman's. Unmistakable.

He then realizes that he's staring silently at it for too long. And he clears his throat.

"It's-- it's just astonishing that this music still survived," he says.

Did Herman survive? The question strikes him hard. Seeing this now, he has to make sure that he does survive. One way or another.

[runningred]

The barman smiles. "Makes me wish I could play. Or that we still had something to play it on." The piano's long gone.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee had noticed that there wasn't a piano, much less the one that the Kit Kat Klub orchestra used. What bar or club doesn't even have a piano? It's sad.

"If you ask me, whoever runs this club should invest in a piano. It isn't natural to not have one," he says a bit wryly, as he carefully folds up the sheet music.

Only the photographs are left. He wonders if he's in any of them. He can't let the barman see, so he flips through them without lingering, as much as he wants to. There seem to be more images from a later time, faces he doesn't know. But at the bottom of the pile, Emcee finds--

"The girls. Some of them, at least."

Emcee exhales a breath. Helga, Lulu, and Rosie, posing on top of the bar, all lacy knickers and stockings. With an almost proud smile, he holds the fragile photo up to show Jay and the barman.

[runningred]

Jay smiles warmly, a supportive arm around Emcee's waist.

The barman smiles and shrugs. "I'm glad someone appreciates them. Look, I gotta get back to work but... if you guys are still around, maybe I'll see you at one of the parties? Some of us are hoping to get into Wonderland tonight."