Joker Joaquin Phoenix - Blog Posts

I used to think my life was a tragedy, but now I realize… it’s a comedy. Joker (2019) dir. Todd Philips

Where is my fucking clown man, I'm still waiting

sometimes a clown is in your house. sometimes not. depends.

IT IS SO BEAUTIFUL THAT HE WON 😭💕💕

WE ARE SO PROUD OF YOU JOAQUIN CONGRATULATIONS 😭❤

His shit eating grin makes it even 1000 times better because he looks like he knows we'll love him anyway 👀

It’s the joker except he’s a THOT

I love this 🥺❤❤

This

THIS MUST BE ONE OF MY FAVOURITE FANART PIECES

art credit: sh291kuzu @ twitter

Don't break my heart like this 😭💓

野良ごじら@KuchuFishing

BRO DON'T FCKN DO THIS TO ME

IMMA BE AT WORK SOON I NEED TO CONCENTRATE

Time to think about Arthur all day at work♥️🤪

1 min into the server like

everybody tag the fam <3 

@honking4joker

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck 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fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

Call me glutton

Cause I'd take both

Enough said

Not gonna lie - that's a pretty good motivator!

Looking for motivation while I go to work like :

(Not even kidding)

So Joker is basically as clueless as Arthur, just more confident

Got any flirting hc for Arthur and joker?

Arthur:

- So, so shy.

- When he finally musters the courage to speak to you, he tries to flirt. (See: tries).

- But it comes off as a morbid, joke

- He could see how off put his flirtation made you so he excused himself and left in a hurry

- Arthur does research on flirting. He reads magazines, watches shows. He even writes them down in a new journal.

- He just wants to make sure he gets it right this time.

- Arthur tries so hard to get his flirting right so you won’t be uncomfortable this time

- He approaches you and flirts with you with all the confidence he has in his body

- Which comes off as awkward

- “Did it hurt? When you fell from...*Checks journal* Heaven?”

- You actually giggled this time. Which is what Arthur wanted.

Joker:

🃏 A cocky, sob, bastard.

🃏 Tells the dirtiest, flirtations to you. Something that Arthur could never do in his lifetime.

🃏 Flirtations he read from a Playboy Magazine and Penthouse Forum

🃏 You like his confidence but Joker was so full of himself most of the time it hurts.

🃏 Would still try flirting with you nonstop. Wherever he saw you, he will flirt with you. Even if it’s the fifth time that day.

🃏 But you listened because it would be rude not to. Even if there were a bunch of strangers watching you weirdly.

🃏 You sometimes giggle because again, he’s so full of himself and his overconfidence is funny to you.

Imagine you have to be resurrected. As you are being brought back to conciousness, you feel a pressure on your chest. It's not someone doing CPR. It is Arthur/Joker pelvic thrusting you back to life.

You have been saved.

The predicament of defending your love or protecting your status & credibility lmao

my mom after watching joker: I can’t believe some people think he’s hot, so weird

me, sweating: uh;;;; y-yeah... that’s-uh- crazy;;;; totally weird,,,,,, hahHahaHaa.....

Sweet! ☺️💕

Soft Arthur Moodboard

That would've been the best cameo 😭😭💔

✨Min @  🤡[JOKER FEVER] 🤡‏ @Min_Dei_Bae

Wrong room…

After rewatching Joker tonight I have tried to pay attention to everything important noted by the clown fandom

And I am now 100 % sure Arthur was wanking off before the Murray Show call and nothing will convince me otherwise and I'll fight to death for this

Kinda happy about this

Y'know, being part of a group of öikeminded people and being normal? Hell yeah, I'm proud

Was reading a random article when I suddenly stumbled upon this:

2019 really is the year of the clownfuckers huh

Guilty as we plead!

I made a thing because I adore his grin in this pic so much

I'm MELTING over here 😫💕

— dating arthur fleck.

[headcanons]

warnings: fluff, mention of sex.

taglist: @vivft, @taintednihilist, @actualkey, @itsforyoubitch 

a/n: shy boy deserves all the love in this essay i will- 

Weiterlesen

Ah yes, this is the good stuff 👌🏻👌🏻

Arthur Fleck/Joker flirting headcannons

Anonymous Request: Can you please do flirting hc for joker v Arthur? How do they seduce a crush 🥰

Sorry for being AWOL these last days, college is a pain lol. Enjoy :))

Arthur:

Arthur is very shy in his advances, so the most likely scenario is that you’ll have to make the first move because this poor man is just petrified at the idea of pushing you away or scaring you

He will often come to your house to hang out and watch a movie or listen to some music. Not the most entertaining of things, but any time spent with you is time well spent

His go-to on any occasion is trying to make you laugh

The most flirtatious things he’s done always happens when he’s showing you magic tricks. Whether it’s pulling out a bouquet of flowers or purposely handing you cards with hearts, this is the most hints you’ll get out of him

When you talk, his whole body literally turns and angles itself towards you, completely hooked on your every word

If you’ve had a bad day or are just feeling down and need someone to listen your problems, he’s right there for you. Will listen to you vent for hours, genuinely concerned about you and offering help in any way he can

He’s your shoulder to cry on anytime you need, because to him, showing concern and care is his way of subtly reminding you he thinks of you and your happiness

Will invite you to his act at Pogo’s, his eyes filled with innocent hope that you’ll say yes

Arthur will also write you letters. Trying to be as mysterious as possible, he signed them as “secret admirer”, but his writing was so distinctively his that you caught on immediately

When you confronted him about it he started blushing profusely, stuttering out an apology.

You just smiled and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, silencing any paranoid thoughts that plagued his mind right then and there.

Joker:

A sneaky, cocky little shit. Much, much more brash in his advances

Makes you flustered on purpose

Compliments you on your appearance exactly twice a day. Why so specific you ask? It’s not too much to make it seem obvious that he’s paying so much attention to the details, but just enough to leave you crazy, wondering if you’re just overthinking his affections or if there’s actually something going on between you two

Joker tries to impress you constantly, whether it’s luring you in with is dance moves or something more extreme like showing you his gun

Always places his hands on you to remind you of his presence. It’s always very innocent- a hand on your shoulder, holding your hand when he wants to drag you somewhere, tapping you to get your attention. If it was anyone else it wouldn’t seem like anything… but you can feel the heat and desire that comes from his touch right through your clothes

When the both of you are together, he’ll tease you non-stop. It’s never malicious, but just playful and lightly mocking enough to make you blush and pout

Only has eyes for you. You could be walking down the street together and run into a group of Joker fan girls cheering for him, and his eyes would never leave you

If you lean in to hug him when you two meet up somewhere, he’ll take your hand and kiss the back of it, eyes devilishly studying yours

One time he took it up a notch and kissed both your cheeks in greeting. When you turn red and demand an explanation, he just scoffs and goes “It’s European”

Not to fret though, Joker isn’t one for wasting time. He’ll make the first move before you even think about doing it yourself, and then he’s never letting you go

What is Joaquin Phoenix hiding behind his forehead tho

WE DEMAND ANSWERS

This man invented chaos

WHAT

WE'RE WILLING TO PAY ANY PRICE

i will personally fight todd phillips for every deleted scene from joker

BITCH

This I second and third!

I have a headcannon that this Joker doesnt tolerate women or children being harrassed or abused. Anyone being harrassed for that matter.

If Joker saw a man telling a woman to acknowledge him, or to smile at him, Joker would warn the man to back the fuck off. If the man didn't, Joker casually shoots the guy.

If any blood gets on the girl, he'd offer his handkerchief to her.

If Joker sees a trans person being beaten, he doesn't even bother to threaten. He shoots the assailants without question.

Anyways, I just really love this idea of Joker being a vigilante of justice against sexual harrassment of any kind. 💜💜💜

Joker || Fracture

Readers Please Note: Joker || Fracture may contain spoilers for the film. Read at your own discretion. 

|| SIX ||

Time is flux.

The days rolled into weeks, leaving behind October and greeting November with sharply declining temperatures. Gotham woke every morning to frigid, cutting winds and frozen sidewalks. The radios, televisions and newspapers continued to bemoan the state of Gotham’s garbage crisis as the sanitation strikes rolled into their second consecutive month.

Meanwhile Thomas Wayne began his campaign for city mayor beseeching the people to hold steady for the future. It seemed his speeches were poorly received by the under classes who began to protest boisterously in the streets. ‘We are all clowns.’ Their bitter demonstration posters read. Such was the way of the wealthy. So disconnected from their workforces it appeared they weren’t listening to the people they hoped to govern at all. Even a man whose best intentions were on display was not immune to media misinterpretation. Misconstrued messages manipulated out of context.

Arthur was reminded sharply of how little attention people paid one another in this city. Everyone walked with a weight on their shoulders. Slightly hunched against the wind and rain. No one seemed to smile anymore. Not even the children as they walked holding their parents’ hands, tearful at the school gates. Fearful of a world outside the comfort and routine of their private homes. It was rough out there. They’d learn soon enough. They’d grow up like everyone else. Without a smile.

His latest visitation with his psychologist had not gone well.

“Arthur, I have some bad news for you.” He braced himself. When the blow finally came, the realization that the public health system would now be closed to him and his medication paid for at a premium that he clearly would be unable to sustain – it was like a wave had struck him in the face, tearing the air out of his lungs all at once. He’d been taking his medication for so long now. How would he function without it?

Meanwhile the Regale Theatre had opened to a full house. The musical production had performed without a hitch as a dozen or more stage hands, Arthur included, ran a series of fast paced checks ensuring audio, set and lighting were beyond reproach. There were reviewers for Gotham Times in the audience and Lauretta was not about to take any chances. Tensions ran high and Arthur found himself in the unfortunate position of having to defend his work more than once.

Early in the season he found himself party to an unwanted argument. He’d argued with Fay bitterly and broke into an agitated fit of laughter that resulted in the aspiring comedian taking a hard slap to the face. Fay had stormed away, bursting into angry tears and refusing to return to work for two whole days after. Arthur wasn’t even given a chance to explain himself. Even Freddie who witnessed the disagreement had come to Fay’s defense.

“Jeeeesus, Mary and Joseph, Artie! Where’d they teach you be such an asshole? You done deserved that slap boy! Look at ‘chu. Still laughin’? Whatcha being such a jerk for, huh?”

His disappointment purely crushing. It felt as though ice water was being pumped directly into his bowels. Sick to the stomach but unable to control the cackling peels of rib shaking laughter that plagued him. He reached into his trouser pocket and simply placed his apologetic card upon the closest table in the break room, ensuring all eyes were on him, before turning on his heel and marching away. They’d work it out themselves. He’d answer questions later if in fact he was asked any ever again. The atmosphere always seemed to change when people witnessed the otherwise docile comedian decompile into a fit of painful, choked, near sobbing laughs.

Agitated, revolted, Arthur continued his duties, attending the male dressing rooms as was his routine instruction. The play costumes had returned from the dry cleaners and it was his duty to ensure each one was returned to the correct rack in performance order before the actors returned for the evening show. No sooner had he entered the empty dressing room with its light framed mirrors that his aggression swirled and bubbled forward.

His painful laughing fit had passed but his surging aggression was uncontrollable as the scene replayed its self in his mind’s eye. He stalked the empty dressing room, furious, humiliated, hurting. Why was he always the fuck up? Why could he never find the words to defend himself when he needed them? He’d tried to explain but even so, Freddie seemed in no mood to hear excuses. And he knew he only had himself to blame. If he only rang Fay through their walkie-talkies sooner this whole mess might have been avoided. Everyone was simply trying to do their job.

He hadn’t meant to upset Fay.

It happened when Freddie had told him to move a heavy road case out of the way and into the orchestra pit. Freddie hadn’t seen or known about the microphone cables gaffed to the ground connecting to the expensive master PA amplifier rack that outputted audio for the entire theatre.  Arthur knew Fay was working on settling the orchestra pit. He’d meant to tell Fay not to attempt to move the road case until the sound engineer gave him the all clear to take it out into the loading bay. There was nowhere else to move the road case until then.

It had all gone terribly wrong.  

Arthur had turned his back for just a moment to take some cables out of the way. It was then that he heard Fay being abused by the conductor for having unsightly equipment intruding upon his work space. Irritated, Fay muttered a curse and rolled the case out of the pit crushing and tearing the audio cables underfoot in two.

A disaster!

Show time was less than two hours away and this costly mistake meant the audio team would have to frantically rig new cables to amplify the show throughout the theatre.

The blame game ensued.  Freddie had argued with Fay, Fay exploded at him and they both erupted at Arthur for failing to communicate properly.

“Christ, Arthur, this fuck up is entirely your fault! When Lauretta hears about this she’s gonna rip us all a new one!” Freddie had snapped angrily.

“She won’t if you just let me explain-“

“What?! How you cost her a sold out fuckin’ show? What’s the point of a fuckin’ musical if half the people in the theatre can’t hear the fuckin’ music- eh?” Freddie snapped, cutting Arthur off mid-sentence.

Defeated, Arthur chose to walk away. A barking cough erupted from his belly, smashing through his ribcage in a crippling peel of breath-stealing laughter that he fought to choke back. His eyes stinging, his insides burning for air. And there he found himself now, in the empty dressing room. His pain soaked eyes and contorted reflection looking back at him pitifully from the illuminated mirror. His rage overtook him. A chair was in his hand and hurtled across the room, impacting upon the mirror and shattering it into hundreds of out-blown shards with a stunning explosion of glass and noise.

He watched the wrecked glass as it lay cracked and hanging haphazardly from its frame with numb composure. He hated that man in the mirror. Hated feeling this empty sense of disconnected futility that followed the encompassing wave of crushing anger.

The cacophony had jolted nearby staff into action. Footfalls rushing across the floor. The seamstress surged through the dressing room door with Greg and two other crew members at her heels to find Arthur searing in fury. His hands shaking violently. His eyes bloodshot as he stood in partial darkness amidst the ruins of shattered mirror glass and detonated light bulbs.

That evening had not gone well.

Lauretta had heard about the argument and phoned Fay entreating her to return to the theatre. The younger woman refused in a fit of tears, humiliated at being laughed at by Arthur and belittled by the conductor. It took the theatre director the better part of twenty minutes to calm her down and explain Arthur’s unfortunate condition.

“Fuck, Laura! Why’d you have to go hire such a freak?!” Fay cried.

The words stung. Lauretta may have had personal reservations about certain members of her staff, but her rigid British up-bringing prevented her from voicing them in a professional capacity. Instead, she opted for neutrality.

“C’mon now, Fay, give him a break.” She soothed, “He didn’t mean it. This whole episode is a great misunderstanding. I’m sure Arthur would apologize if you gave him half a chance. He’s harmless, honest. A little peculiar perhaps, but deserving of an even go, like anyone else.”

“How could you just defend him like that? He humiliated me in front of everyone!” Fay wept bitterly, throwing herself onto her sofa cushions and kicking her shoes across the room.

“If I don’t, who else will? Now, you take the next two days off if you must but I expect you back for Friday night’s performance. I’ll have you, Arthur and Freddie in my office before then. We’ll talk this out. Goodnight, Fay.”

No sooner did she hang up the phone than she sent for Martha to fetch Freddie and Arthur. The two men were marched into her office and door closed behind them. For the first time in weeks, Lauretta sat behind her desk, lit a cigarette and quietly demanded the men explain exactly what had happened.

They left her office an hour later, their heads hanging significantly lower.

The broken mirror and light globes would come out of Arthur’s wages and both men received a formal warning for misconduct. They would be made to apologize to Fay personally upon her return. Arthur’s affliction had been ousted. The theatre was relatively quiet for the rest of the night. The crew spoke in clipped hushed whispers to one another. No jokes were cracked over the walkie-talkies and the only noise to be had were the claps and cheers of the audience as the performance went ahead whilst the crew sweated and swore under their breaths.

Somber and muted, the crew could not wait for the audience to empty the theatre. Shut down was as fast and efficient as ever. Staff attended their lockers and wished each other a goodnight whilst Arthur distanced himself as early as was prudent.

Without realizing it, he’d found himself hovering about the foot of the stairs that led up to Lauretta’s office.

She was up there, writing her reports and calculating her losses. She was almost always the last one to leave the theatre at night and the first to open the doors of a morning.

That meeting was the first time in two months of employment that he’d seen the warmth in her eyes fade. Her features become hard and her words cold. She was furious in the way a quiet storm might exact its wrath upon the earth, under an incessant torrent of heavy rain. So different to the shouting and yelling of his previous bosses. Arthur struggled to make sense of his feelings until he decided, this treatment was worse.

So much worse.

In spite of this disastrous episode, come Boxing Day, Lauretta had kept her promise and allowed Arthur the opportunity to perform as a roving entertainer for the Boxing Day Theatre Gala held at the Gotham Centre for Performing Arts. A lavish party that featured the board of directors for the theatre whom Lauretta paneled with were present. With them came a whole host of actors, writers, directors, stagecraft students, their families, friends, members of the media and general public. The gala highlighted excellent opportunities for students of performing arts to meet an array of teachers to discuss the following year’s courses and training programs. A busy and lively party of which Arthur was invited to entrain for two sets.

His first set would commence shortly after the opening speeches. The auditorium was outfitted with three small elevated round stages that highlighted talented performers, Arthur occupied one and was splendid in his costume. The theatre seamstress, Italian woman, Paola Midici took inspiration from the 18th century Italian comedy. When asked to fashion Arthur a great costume for his gala performance, she spent a great deal of time looking into his eyes.

“Are you happy, Arthur?” She had asked, deliberately and without preamble. Italian accent heavy still.

“What does that have to do with-“

“It was a simple question, young man.” Paola interrupted briskly. “Are you happy?”

“I suppose-“

Paola cleared her throat sharply, cutting off the aspiring comedian yet again.

“Not really, no.” He found himself admitting quietly. It was strange to say the words out loud to a stranger no less.

To this admission Paola nodded her head approvingly.

“It’s in the eyes, dear boy. Always in the eyes. Now stand still, let me take your measure.”

Now Arthur stood upon his elevated stage, in his element as a crowd gathered round him to watch as he performed classic mime, juggling and magic tricks in silence. He wore a magnificent costume styled in the fashion of the classic historic clown, Perriot. His puff sleeved shirt, waistcoat and trousers divided evenly in an array of black and white large satin diamonds. His buttons a deep, wine red. An Elizabethan ruff made of lace and tulle adorned his neck. On his head rested the tri-horned hat of a royal court jester. Spectacular, like a crown in black and white, adorned with red and silver bells that jingled musically for every time he moved his head.

His face however was of spectacular contrast. In delicate black and white greasepaint the left half of his face was painted in a great upturned smile, the right however, pulled down low in a miserable frown. Neither comedy nor tragedy. But a vision of both painted in homage to the theater he now served.

His audience was intrigued, pointing and clapping at his jubilant gestures and exaggerated dancing. He made flowers appear from under his hat and brightly coloured silk scarves were handed to a passing lady who had the good grace to laugh when she found they were tied together from his pocket in a seemingly endless string. A blue rose tied to the last one. Around her the gathering clapped and cheered. Arthur, court jester as he now fashioned himself, bowed smoothly and pointed to his cheek, wordlessly requesting a kiss. Embarrassed, the lady shuffled on heels, hesitating. Arthur frowned deeply, hanging limp and sad. The audience broke into an exaggerated cry of: “Awwwwwww!”

Pinched by the pressure, the lady thought better of her station and came forward bravely, pecking Arthur upon the cheek. Joy! He straightened and clapped happily, a merry jingle of his belled cap. The gathered crowed cheered and clapped. A far better outcome!

The lady curtsied and darted away to her giggling friends whilst Arthur bowed deeply. His performance a success. The set was complete. He bounded off the stage and made for the cluster of other performers milling about behind a red roped area reserved for theatre staff beside the bar.

“Arthur!”

Upon hearing his name he turned to find Lauretta dressed in a beautifully fitted black evening gown that trailed to the floor. Her hair gathered in an artful array of curls. Her lips the most striking shade of red that contrasted sharply with the blue of her eyes. She was stunning to behold. And smiling. At him.

Arthur removed his hat slowly, running his fingers through his hair. He strode forward and offered his hand that the director took, watching warmly as he kissed her knuckles just as he’d witnessed so many gentleman do in those old black and white films from Pinewood Studios, London.

“Arthur, you were wonderful out there, really!”

“You were watching?”

“Intently. Every sway and trick brought delight to your onlookers. You should be very proud of yourself. You have true beauty in your movements.” Lauretta replied earnestly, fixing him with a tender, appreciative smile.

“Thank you. Really. I-You look lovely tonight.” Arthur offered warmly, taking a step back to admire his employer more completely.

“As do you! Paola really has done magnificently with your costume. And your face paint  - the crème-de-la-crème to be sure. Are you enjoying yourself? Not nervous at all?”

“A little, I’m not used to performing in front of this class of society, but I am having a lot of fun. This is incredible, honest, it’s like a dream come true.”

“I’m glad you think so. We’ll see if can’t establish you in the theatre a little more fully in the new year, you’re doing very well for yourself.” The compliment delivered with all sincerity. She had watched as he mingled with her colleagues, noting the way in which Arthur had not broken down into a fit of nervous laughter.

She’d witnessed a few fits rack the man most painfully in the months of his employment. Notably soon after he had revealed to her in private that his psychologist’s office had now been closed and his access to his medication subsequently revoked.

She worried for him. He continued to function, mindful not to be late on shift and engaged in his work. But there was something about him that wasn’t quite right. She’d made calls here and there until she located an office for social services across town that agreed to assess him with a referral letter from his doctor. There was administrative work to take care of, but if it meant bettering an employee who worked so tirelessly, then she agreed without hesitation.  Arthur had first refused her help on principle. Although his position in the theatre did pay a great deal better than his commission performances at Ha Ha’s, he could not yet afford health insurance to cover the cost of private consultations. Lauretta had insisted none the less.

“We can find a way, Arthur. If you need help-“

“I can’t afford to pay you back, and I have to look after my mother.”

“So let me help you both, Arthur. Don’t be stubborn. How do you expect to carry on looking after her if you’re not well enough to care for yourself?”

The matter seemed to be settled. Though he hesitated, there was something in her eyes that drew him. He appeared so displaced and vulnerable. Something inside him ached. Words would not come and instead he began to weep silently, so starved of affection and human kindness. He would have kissed her then and there he felt so overwhelmed and broken down.

She took him in her arms and Arthur lowered wordlessly into her embrace, breathing in the scent of her rose perfume. A cruel fit of laughter took him, coughing, weeping, and shaking him from within. His ribcage burning. Every ounce of him aware that in his arms he held a woman, honest and pure. Guilt welled in his gut, his fantasies of his neighbor, Sophie, haunted him. He’d followed her to her work place. Watched as she’d walked her daughter to school and hovered by her front door, meaning to knock but unable to find the courage to let his knuckles rap the timber.

Even so, Lauretta held him through his fit. One hand caressing his back with near motherly affection, the other stroking his hair.

“It’s alright,” She’d whispered gently, sweetly. “Everything’s going to be alright now.”

He wanted to believe it.

For many minutes Lauretta and Arthur chatted together amicably. She offered him a glass of champagne that he took graciously admitting he’d never tried the drink before. The possibility thrilled him as he clinked glasses with Lauretta proudly before taking a sip …and immediately winkling his nose in disapproval.

“It’s not for everyone.” Lauertta laughed gently, enchanted as she watched his eyes twinkle. The clarity and warmth of his features were not withdrawn by the layers of face paint.

It was then that she saw him standing not more than ten feet away. A handsome gentleman dressed in a fine silk suit of pin stripe navy blue. An elegant burgundy tie at his neck and a glittering diamond tie pin shimmered in the light. He caught her eye and held it with his own deep green gaze as he rose his glass in the air, a salute. Lauretta’s smile vanished setting Arthur off kilter. He whispered her name,

“Arthur, please excuse me.  I’m afraid I’m obliged to have a conversation with a colleague it seems.” Her focus returned to Arthur’s eyes who turned to see who it was that so efficiently erased Lauretta’s smile. A group of students here, a waiter, some ladies smoking over there. It was her hand on his arm that turned his attention back to her lovely features.

“You’re doing extremely well, Arthur, I look forward to seeing your second set in an hour. Mind you travel home safely tonight. I’m sure Fay or Freddie will gladly give you a lift. Excuse me.”

And with that she was away in a flutter of black fabric and sure footfalls. He called his good night after her wondering all the while who it was that could upset her tender nature. Arthur lamented her loss as he watched her recede into the crowd.

He’d wanted to ask her to dance.

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