Mission Impossible?

by Amberlynn Kain

 

"Don't worry honey; you're going to be great. You've been fantastic in rehearsal all week." Tony reassured.

Amber did not reply but stared out past the stage curtains toward the crowded club floor and bit her bottom lip nervously.

"Honey? Amber?"

"What…oh yeah…Tony, I'll be fine.", she glanced over her shoulder at the slim man standing behind her.

Tony smiled and patted the petite TV's shoulder, then gave her a hub. "You look stunning. I'm jealous you know. You could be her."

Amber flashed a big smile at the compliment. Thanks, it took a lot of work. I had help."

"Amber, 1 minute till curtain.", the stage manager announced.

"Better get to your mark. I've got to get dressed. Knock'em dead honey." Tony wished running toward the dressing room.

"30 seconds, Amber." the stage manager said and pointed toward the stage.

Amber let out a deep breath. She nodded at him and walked onto the stage, where she checked her makeup in the polished fender. She stepped onto the shiny foot rest and moved into position dictated by her coach and Major Brewer.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and waited for her cue and the curtain to rise. Instantly, she was transported back a month to a small club near St. Louis and to her first time on stage when Major Brewer had to push her onto the stage. A former family restaurant on the south side now catered to the alternative crowd from a small local college. The interior of the club was minimal in its decor. A few mirror balls dropped from the ceiling danced lights off their surface onto mirrors which lined the walls of the club. The furniture was cheaply made conference hall chairs and tables. The owner originally served drinks in glassware but switched to plastic cups weeks later after he found the college clientele cared less about stemware than the alcohol served in them.

The club's stage was tiny, barely more than a raised platform eight by ten feet. While a single singer or lone comedian would have no issue and four piece bands could squeeze itself onto the dais, a performer who was a dancer was limited. Amber found this to be quickly true at her first rehearsal, however, her performance team devised away around the space issue in time for her debut.

When her premier set came, Amber froze when she heard her cue for the first time. Major Brewer pushed her from behind the wings onto the stage. Fortunately, when she heard the music pavlovian training overrode her fears and she began her act. She strutted out in faux diamonds and a black leather costume consisting of a bandeau bra, low rise mini shorts, and over the knee boots. She lipped synced and danced to the song as rehearsed and the crowed politely clapped when she finished. She began the second song to her set and then she began to improvise. She identified the audience members who were having fun and stepped off the stage to flirt with them. She discovered the crowd loved being part of the act. She waved, winked, squeezed shoulders, and blew kisses while she performed. The audience shouted suggestively at her and she pretended to be shocked. Her set ended with loud applause and shouts. She bowed and waved several times and rushed off stage into Major Brewers arms where she began to cry.

The acrid smell of man-made fog as it drifted across the stage pulled Amber back to the present. She took a deep breath and waited the curtain to rise and her cue. She shifted in her position slightly and heard the stage manager announcement.

"Tonight the Peacock proudly presents to South Beach for the first time, Amber Kain, as Shania Twain."

The curtain rose and the spot light illuminated a black Harley-Davidson 1200, a larger than a normal bike, custom made and outfitted with chrome accessories. Fog encircled the bike, while Amber lay sexily on the super-sized twin gas tanks with her high heeled boots on the black leather seat. She leaned on one elbow with her wig's long black curls over one shoulder and draped across her lower breast. When the music started she slowly rose, swung her legs to the front and slid off the chromed out motorcycled and strutted to the end of the run way. Amber was dressed in a black lace cat suit designed tailored to aid her illusion, with over the knee black patent leather boots. The petite TV hit her mark and began to lip sync to the song "That Don't Impress Me Much".

She was half way through the first stanza when a younger guy from the audience walked to the stage with a dollar between his fingers. Amber waited a few seconds and playfully skipped over to him. She winked at him, took his bill and kissed him lightly on the lips. Watching him turn around, she flipped one hand by her wrist and perfectly lipped synced "that don't impress me much". Laughter and snickers erupted from the audience and the young man tuned quickly around only to find Amber looking innocent but with a bright twinkle in her eye.

She danced down the catwalk where she spied an older man sitting with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face, next to a woman who was obviously his wife. The pretty TV waved coquettishly at him but the man remained stoic. Amber broke character, stopped mid stride put her hands on her hips and leaned forward, knowing the tailored cat suit created the illusion of large cleavage. With a sultry look, she put her painted lips together and blew a kiss at him. The man blinked and only shifted in his seat. Amber snapped back up and looked to stage right, then stage left in mock unbelief. Several shouts from the audience members asked her to repeat the kiss to them. She looked to the man's wife and asked if he was this way at home. The woman next to the man stopped giggling and replied to the illusionist that the reaction was more than she got out of him in the past year. Amber joined in the audience's laughter and twirled away to the song's instrumental stanza.

After the song's brief instrumental, Amber continued to lip sync and flirt with the audience until she spotted a statuesque blonde at the far end of the stage. After she made eye contact with the platinum goddess, the entertainer carefully stalked over to her prey. The dancer motioned for her to come to the stage. The woman rose and walked to the stage. The woman was very tall, tanned, dressed in a floral print mini dress and wore high heels. She looked Amber in the eye even though she was on the stage and the silver haired goddess stood on the floor. She moved forward a bit and tilted her head to the left. The muse smiled, placed her hands on Amber's face and kissed the TV performer. The crowd oohed and ahhed at the erotic scene. She watched the goddess return to her table and friends, Amber then returned to character, stepped back and made a phone with her fingers and asked the blonde to call. She joined the chorus and ended the song at her expected mark. The audience applauded loudly while several catcalls and offers where shouted out. Amber bowed her head in acceptance, waved and blew kisses back at the crowd.

The stage lights blinked out and stage was in darkness. Amber listened to the fading applause, while she flipped the hair out of her eyes, caught her breath and waited expectantly for Major Brewer. She heard the footsteps approach and felt the jacket pushed into her hands and immediately slipped it on. The song started and she closed her eyes and counted the beats. At the fourth beat, the stage lights exploded on and Amber began the final part of her set now wearing a patent leather jacket that matched her boots. She hooked the first line of "I'm Gonna Getcha Good" perfectly and danced to stage left where she flirted with a set of cute guys in a corner table and asked for their help off the stage. Egged on by his friends, one of the men stood and picked her easily off the stage and set her on the floor. Amber slid up against him and gave him a tight hug, suppressed a giggle and rose on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. She then squeezed his huge bicep and turned to the audience and fanned herself in mock sexual heat. Claps and laughter answered her faux frustration.

Amber skipped through the audience touching a shoulder here and there, pushing away a hand or two and waving, while she sang. She came across an older couple who was having fun and leapt onto the silver haired man's lap. She proceeded to nestle into his arms and purred cat like. The man simply laughed, hugged her and patted her ass. Amber kissed him on the cheek and winked at his wife who stared in disbelief at her husband with another man. The crowd shouted catcalls and offers for her to sit on their laps.

The TV illusionist spied off of stage right an attractive couple who stood to watch her perform. The woman moved to the beat of the song, while her mate stood behind her his hands on her slim hips. Amber quickly stepped over to the pair and began to draw the woman out and away from her partner, where she stepped behind her and replaced him. Amber hands moved up and down the woman's hips, while she danced to the song's beat enjoying the attention. Amber knew the audience liked the scene but was aware of the short time she had left in her set. She squeezed the woman's hips one last time and turned toward the end of the stage when she reached out and took the woman's partner up the stairs. Once on the stage Amber stripped off the leather jacket and danced around the handsome man letting him and the audience know what she wanted. As the song came to its conclusion, she led her captive to the motorcycle where she exaggerated another fake swoon after watching him mount the Harley and climbed on behind him. Amber raised her arms in triumph timed with the song's finale.

The audience erupted in applause and shouts. Amber jumped off the bike and led her partner to the edge of the stage. There they bowed and she stepped back and clapped with the crowd for him. She walked him to the stairs and applauded him again, waved to the audience, blew a kiss and bowed again. The curtain closed and she excitedly jumped into Major Brewer's arms.

"That was Amber Lynn Kain as Shania Twain. Give her another big hand."

Marilyn Monroe teetered over to Amber dressed in a copy of the famous white, rhinestone dress the American public knew so well and hugged her backstage then congratulated her, "Great set honey."

"Thanks Tony…ah…Marilyn. Break a leg", Amber said.

Marilyn batted an eye sexily, blew her a kiss and strutted onto the stage.

Twice per night she slinked off her polished chromed bed an amazed the audience with her sexuality and innocent teasing. Amber continued to captivate and excite every audience she met for the next two weeks, when following the Saturday night performance she found a dozen roses in the communal dressing room for her.

"Looks like Amber's made it." Leona commented smelling the aroma of the red flowers.

"What will your 'aunt' think of those, baby?" Cindy Fella asked getting dressed into her Janet Jackson outfit, complete with malfunctioning bustier.

"Mmm…I don't know. But their beautiful aren't they." Amber beamed.

"Was there a note with the roses?" Major Brewer asked.

"Not that I saw. I asked the girls if they noticed one when the flowers were delivered and they said no."

The blonde army Major paused to think, "Then we will assume you just have a fan." She smiled at her protégé and commented, "I am sure you have more than one, especially after your performance last night. You were very good."

Amber beamed with the thought of having many admirers around her and realized, "You were there last night."

"Yes, I saw both shows."

"But I didn't see you in either audience."

"I was at the far end of the bar."

"And you liked both sets?"

Janice Brewer turned around to face her subordinate and lay on her stomach. "Yes and so did everyone else. The men around me seemed struck with you. Your illusion came off well and your costume was great. I am glad we went with the lace, instead of the black leather outfit. You've much improved since St. Louis.", she complimented.

"I've worked very hard Major.", Amber stretched in her deck chair, reached down and poured buttered color tanning oil along her legs. She rubbed the oil in her legs and hips, her fingers worked the oil under her thong's strap. Part of Amber's Miami ritual was to tan daily for two to three hours daily around the apartment complex's pool. She had purchased several swimsuits to avoid tan lines, only to wear the black thong bikini. She moved the straps around to prevent the lines forming but her success was limited and lines were becoming noticeable. She would have to figure a way to sunbathe nude a few days. She rubbed the lotion onto her arms and flat belly, then lay back on the beach chair and closed her eyes.

"Amber," the Major's brows furrowed, "you've not been approached by anyone at the club or here have you?"

"No, Major." She opened one eye, "Something wrong?"

The Major casually looked past the pool and chain link fence to the apartment's parking lot, where two latinos sat in a blue, low slung sports car. The two men had watched them for a several minutes since she had noticed them. There was nothing unusual about men noticing her or Amber; it was just training and her own natural paranoia. She filed the faces and the car away in her memory and turned to ask, "No. Hand me the oil."

  

  

  

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