~CHAPTER FIVE~



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Principality of Monaco

August 3rd, 1924

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Long before their celebrations were set to start, Mr. L'Amour had reached King Richie's estate. He drove up to the spacious yard and parked his old *crate. Several maids and butlers were already hauling his bags out of the car as he stepped out to get his luggage.

“Hé!” He exclaimed, unclear as to why they would steal his belongings.

"Mr. L'Amour!" The stocky German man asserted. He could recognize that voice from anywhere. It was no other than the esteemed King Richie, whom he had only met once before.

"The staff are only taking your things to the Green Room. Someone will show you there later, but why don't you walk with me." King Richie chuckled and embraced Mr. L'Amour kindly, as if they'd been friends for a long time.
They walked past the garden and to the gargantuan mansion entrance. Mr. L'Amour had never seen a house this big before. Without knowing otherwise, he would've thought it was a mosque.

As they walked, King Richie informed him how the night was planned to go.

"As we discussed over the phone, the party starts at seven. At around seven-thirty, most of the guests will have arrived and you can make your grand entrance as... Was it, Pansy L'Amour?" He asked, seeming to not exactly remember the drag queen's name.

Mr. L'Amour nodded.

"Wonderful!" King Richie clasped his hands together.

"During the party, you are expected to interact with the crowds. You can't eat while you are performing, but you will get a chance to dine before the party starts. I do, however, expect you to enjoy the booze and drinks!" He finished his lax instruction.

"One last thing! You are being paid for two and a half hours worth of entertainment. Guests will be staying well past midnight, so feel free to stay as long as you like after the gig." He smiled.

Walking up the steps, the large doors sat propped open. Mr. L'Amour saw three women just inside the entrance. Watching him, they whispered and giggled to each other.

"Let me introduce you to one of my friends, Lady Turncoat. She's an actress from Chicago." King Richie extended an arm to point to the beautiful African American woman standing in the middle.

He couldn't help but recognize her. She played the leading lady in one of his favourite movies. He couldn't believe that King Richie was friends with such a famous actress.

"This is Mr. L'Amour. I've already told you of his purpose here tonight." he said to Lady Turncoat, placing a hand at her waist and kissing her on the cheek. She did the same.
"Charmed." She began. "I can't wait to see you tonight, I just KNOW you'll look absolutely stunning." She trilled.

She turned to King Richie. "He's going to be so surprised!" she exclaimed in a playful manner.

"I'm sorry?" Mr. L'Amour tilted his head, hoping to be filled in.

King Richie snorted. "Nothing wrong, we only speak of our other friend. I purposely didn't inform him of your performance tonight. I imagine he'll be quite agape. I can only see the look on his face now!" The four of them snickered.

Mr. L'Amour looked amongst them, he didn't get the joke.

"I'll introduce you when he gets here, I'm certain he'll want to get here as early as possible." And with that, the company entered the mansion and Mr. L'Amour got an impressive tour of the gaudy interior.



~~~

*crate: a car

~~~



Just a bit before six o'clock, the group had moved back to the entryway in wait for the friend they talked so fondly of. They sat in wait, with the doors left propped open once again. A car finally pulled up, and to Lady Turncoat's dismay, she didn't recognize it.
"That's not his car..." She stated, squinting her eyes in a hope that it would magically start looking like her friend's car.

A gangly man with a large moustache clambered out of the still running car and bounced his way up the steps.

"It isn't... Why, that's Anthony. I was meeting with him about certain arrangements. I suppose he's finally realised he's left his things here." King Richie mocked.

Anthony stood in the door, a bit out of breath. He pointed with his thumb to his car that was parked somewhere behind him.

"I uh... left my hat. And my coat." He paused for a thoughtful moment. "AND my brief," he said finally. He clicked his teeth and nodded. Mr. L'Amour cringed at how uncomfortable he looked.

King Richie waved to the staff behind him, not looking back as he did. A butler brought Anthony's misplaced items to him.

"I will be having a meeting with Mr. Duchamp very soon, sometime after, we can arrange a meeting amongst the three of us." Anthony informed his host, now suddenly appearing very professional and shockingly competent. "Mr. Duchamp will be arranging that part with you, of course." He concluded.
He placed his old hat on his head, as he tried to say something else, the women cut him short as they started squealing.

A chipper *honk-honk* came from outside, and an incredibly nice car pulled up. Mr. L'Amour approached the window the car had just parked in front of.

To King Richie's bewilderment, the driver didn't get out to open the door for 'him'. A spiffy looking man clumsily put the seat down and let himself out through the passenger door, carefully avoiding a box that sat in the front seat. Mr. L'Amour found this comical display weirdly charming.

After putting the seat fully up again, the man leaned over the box, appearing to be talking with his driver. From the doorstep, King Richie and his friends were unable to hear this exchange, but Mr. L'Amour was standing at the windows that were now fully covered by the sunlights glare. Despite its brightness, he still managed to read his lips.

"Here, use these make-up wipes, but I don't suggest using them down there." The moustached man gestured to his driver's lap before giving a cheeky wink. He patted him on the shoulder.

Mr. L'Amour was taken aback, could that actually be what he said? Being swarmed by his female companions, the brash man stared up the stairs.

Mr. L'Amour got closer to the door, now standing only several feet away from King Richie and Anthony.

"WHAT are you doing, woman?" He teased. The man now missing his tailcoat swung around, smacking Anthony in the leg with his wooden cane. Mr. L'Amour winced.
That looked terribly painful...

Mr. L'Amour waved goodbye to Anthony as he limped to his car and drove away. Anthony didn't wave back, he didn't notice.

"Vat happened to your make-up?" King Richie said, his German accent thicker with shock.

The debonair devil sauntered closer and turned around, his face now fully visible to everyone inside. Mr. L’Amour studied him as he swankily listed on his cane. His silky waistcoat was a gorgeous fuchsia colour and gave his figure a very fashionable silhouette. On his face, he had lipstick sensually smeared around his mouth. He smiled to reveal the lipstick on his front teeth.

“You know how drivers can be! It can get- rather messy-” The man said with a smirk.
Mr. L’Amour blinked and raised an eyebrow.
Making eye contact with Mr. L’Amour, he got a rather shy look. He pulled a fan out, covering the bottom half of his face, leaving his long eyelashes and beautifully painted eyelids looking down and away.

Mr. L’Amour got curious, and a bit jealous. He thought he was good at doing his eyeshadow.

The shy man and the women ran off to one of the other rooms, slamming the doors behind them.

“That- is my dear friend, Lady Moustache.” King Richie finally spoke up. He looked amused. “I’ve met him in primary, been best friends with him ever since…” King Richie reminisced.

The two men turned around, as they heard a shrill voice cry out, and then women’s laughter.

“I can give you a proper introduction in a bit, I’m sure Lady Moustache needs some time to… reapply his makeup.”



~~~

Principality of Monaco

August 4th, 1924

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Mr. Mann thought fondly on that fateful evening. He grew up lower class and always wanted to know what it was like to *have the bees. Although after seeing for himself, he questioned keeping his company with such debaucherous people. But he needed to… at least for today, he had promised to meet King Richie for tea and a chat.

Mr. Mann wondered if he was upset with the little ‘stunt’ he pulled last night. Yes, it looks really bad on paper, but Mr. Mann had good intentions for leaving the performance early… Surely, King Richie is a reasonable man…

Mr. Mann drove past a flower shop he’s always wanted to stop in, but he never could afford any of the beautiful plants. The plants that taunted him through the large storefront windows.

(it’ll be best if I can just explain myself, I’m sure he’ll understand…) Mr. Mann thought to himself. He sat in his car for a moment, preparing himself for tea. He didn’t know if there was special ‘high class etiquettes’ for drinking tea, and he expected to make an ass out of himself.

He made his way to the door.



~~~

*have the bees: to be rich

~~~



He walked the cavernous hallway, trying to follow the voices he heard chattering somewhere towards the end of the hall. Getting closer, he started to smell something. It was almost an incense-y scent. The flowery smell was strange, it’s a fragrance that he’s never smelt before. Mr. Mann works with flowers often, he just barely recognized a poppy scent. He didn’t know where the odour was coming from, but he recalled smelling that musk at the party. As he approached the open door, he heard Lady Moustache speaking.

“... I rather like the fellow.” Lady Moustache claimed as he leaned on the armrest he perched tightly to.

King Richie was making eye contact with Mr. Mann.

“You do know?” King Richie said, giving Mr. Mann a slight smile. One that made him question if King Richie was actually upset with him.

“I do!” Lady Moustache affirmed.

“I was thinking of asking him to lunch sometime… but do you think he’s busy? If you wouldn’t mind it, could we ask him to join today?” He inquired.

(I wonder who they’re talking about) Mr. Mann entered the room and was about to knock.

“Why don’t you ask Mr. Mann if he’ll dine with you, yourself?” King Richie told Lady Moustache.

“I don't know how to. I don’t know if he’d even say yes.” Lady Moustache said, picking at his nails.

“I’d go to lunch with you.” Mr. Mann chimed in, stepping forward to be seen.

Lady Moustache whipped around, gripping to the chair arm. He looked mortified. Mr. Mann smiled and nodded to the group.

“Good morning.” He greeted, slightly embarrassed. He felt a bit called out, and suspected based on Lady Moustache’s expression, that he also did.

“Komm rein, Mr. Mann.” King Richie laughed at the welcome as he walked up to greet him. “And thank you for coming to tea, I hope you don’t mind that I invited a couple of friends.”

Mr. L’Amours hand was swooped up by both of King Richie’s as he was greeted with a hand shake.



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© ST.Mortenson