Chapter Text
Rosie Muller was known as Fraulein Hintern at night. In the evenings, she'd go to the club she worked at and perform on stage. Mostly, she was a dancer in the background for the classier acts, but towards the end of the show, she would come on stage, sing a lewd song and flash her bare backside to the drunks in the crowd. She hated it. Surprisingly, it wasn't the nudity she hated. It was the singing. Despite having a job in a nightclub, Rosie was a terrible singer. She was only kept on because of her good dancing skills and because none of the other girls would be caught dead as Fraulein Hintern.
One night, Rosie had just finished her number. She sat down at one of the tables and a waiter handed her a telephone. He said that table nine was calling.
“Hello?” Rosie asked into the receiver.
“How much are they paying you?” a coy male voice asked.
“I beg your pardon,” Rosie said, utterly confused by the question.
“How much is your boss paying you to work here?” the man asked.
“That's none of your business,” Rosie retorted.
“Whatever it is, I'll double it,” said the man.
“I don't know who you think you are,” said Rosie indigently. “You came to the wrong nightclub. I'm not some prostitute you can buy for a night's fun.”
“You misunderstand me,” the man chimed in. “I'm not looking for sex. I'm looking for a worker. Come work at my club and I'll pay you double.”
“What nightclub is this?” Rosie asked with a touch of interest.
“The Kit Kat Club,” replied the man.
“That's a bit far from where I live,” said Rosie.
“I'll find you a place to stay,” offered the man. “I think you would find working for me quite enjoyable. I wouldn't make you sing. You could dance and flirt all you'd like and never have to worry about singing again.”
Rosie fell silent. The idea of more money and no more singing intrigued her. She shook the thoughts out of her head though. As appealing as the offer sounded, Rosie knew it would be better to keep a level head.
“I'm sorry, sir, I cannot accept,” she answered.
“Very well,” replied the man. “If you change your mind, I'll be here all night. Just ask for table nine.” With that, the man hung up.
Just then, Rosie's boss, Friedrich, came and sat down with her. He looked distinctly irritated.
“Rosie, I need to talk to you,” he said seriously.
"What is it?" Rosie asked.
“It's your act,” replied Friedrich. “I know we're all well aware what a bad singer you are, but I think you've gotten worse.”
Rosie pretended that the insult didn't hurt and asked, “Well, what are you going to do? No one else wants my song.”
“I've been thinking of cutting it,” said Friedrich. “I've been playing with the idea of classing this place up. With a nicer venue, and no vulgar acts, you'd be completely out of place.”
“I'd be completely out of the job,” protested Rosie.
“That's not my problem,” said Friedrich. “Besides, you've got a pretty little rear. I'm sure you'll find work in no time.
“But Friedrich!” Rosie shouted. It didn't matter though. He had already left the table.
Rosie felt like she'd been punched in the gut. She thought she was going to cry, but then suddenly a thought occurred.
She picked up the phone on her table and said, “Hello, I'd like to be connected to table nine please.”
---
A week later, Rosie was moving into a new apartment, one that was closer to The Kit Kat Club. It was strange how she found this place. While she was back at the old nightclub, Rosie had found a letter addressed to her. The letter had instructed her to come to this flat block. The strange part was that nobody knew where the letter had come from.
Coming back to the present, Rosie stepped into the room that the landlady had showed her and was immediately taken aback by the size.
“There must be some sort of mistake,” said Rosie. “I can't possibly afford this room.”
“Not on your own, of course, but you're sharing it with him,” said the landlady.
"Him?" questioned Rosie.
“The man who rents this room called me today and said that he was taking on a roommate,” explained the landlady. “I wasn't expecting a woman though. Don't worry. I'll be very discreet.”
“There's definitely been a mistake then,” said Rosie. “I didn't know I'd be sharing this apartment with a man.”
“Not to worry,” said the landlady. “He's never here. I saw him once when he first took the apartment, but I've never seen him since. Honestly, I don't know why he even keeps it. If I was in your shoes, I'd be absolutely thrilled. You're paying forty marks for an eighty mark apartment and you'll be getting it all to yourself. Be happy, liebling. This is a good thing.”
Rosie wasn't sure, but there was something about this landlady that put her at ease. She smiled and nodded. She would take the apartment.
Later that day, Rosie went to The Kit Kat Club just as the letter told her too. Despite not being open for business yet, the club was still full of activity. Waiters bustled around making sure that everything was in order for when the guests arrived. Three girls were on stage rehearsing a number. Rosie was so absorbed in watching them practice their routine that she didn't even notice someone had come up behind her.
"Hello, liebling," the someone said.
Rosie whirled around and found a slightly strange, but very attractive man standing behind her.
“Oh!” she said. “It's you. You were the man on the phone and the man who has the apartment.”
“Yes to both,” he said. “I'm glad you decided to come and work with us. Those girls on stage are your sisters now. Go introduce yourself.”
Rosie nodded at the man and then turned on her heel and headed toward the stage as she thought, This is a brand new life for me. I can't wait to see what it brings.