The Band(Jones Sparrow and Leiley)IC

The New York night was young. Lights flashed and flared, cars drove by, honked, parked, you name it. Everyone knew that the best places to be were speakeasies. One of the best ones was called the Ace in downtown Manhattan. It was the largest, fanciest, and most elegant. In the back alleyway(which was closed off for certain reasons) a man was screaming as loud as he could. For Raymond Chase, this was a normal night for him. He pulled in a breath of smoke from his cigarette. He wore a charcoal suit with a dark blue tie, and matching fedora. A group of his close friends were huddled around a man on the floor. One held a baseball bat, and the other four were there for support. "You are a little snitch, Martinez!" Buddy Grace, the man with the bat yelled.

"He threatened to cut my hand off!" The man whimpered, cowering at the bat. "What the hell made you think that we wouldn't do the same if we found out? We're gonna do more than cut off a hand!" Charlie Hayes, another said. This is when Raymond stepped in. These men weren't only the main performance band for The Ace, they were also a very notorious gang. Raymond was the leader. He knelt to the man, patting him on the cheek. "We trusted you, Al... but then you snitch us out to a cop saying where one of our most secure bootlegging area was? tsk tsk tsk." Ray said, shaking his head. "We really don't like un loyal people, Al... I thought you had brains. Turns out youre just shit. I hope it was worth it for the small time, Martinez... 'cause you ain't coming out of this alley alive." And with that he got up and walked out of the circle, a cry leapt out before it was muffled, and the alley went quiet.

---

Raymond and his friends walked into the back doors of the Ace, fixing their ties and suits as they did. They took care of the body, and threw it in the dumpster, the man coming in the morning to get rid of it for good. Raymond and the Band were up in a few minutes. It was safe to say that they played jazz better than the Harlem Boys who created it. They got their instruments, Raymond preforming mostly with the saxophone, but could play all the instruments rather well.

They walked on stage into a very large room filled with a dance floor for the swing, and tables displayed with table cloths, the walls were filled with red velvet curtains and a nice large chandelier in the center. The entrance and exit were up a staircase, one on each side and curving to the center of the room. This wasn't an ordinary club. this was meant to be luxurious. Once everyone got settled, Raymond started them off, and the jazz began to play. They started with a fast paced, energetic song, and ended with a slow dance for those special couples out in the stands.

It was your typical Friday night at Ace. The jazz band were filling the room with their mellow, yet upbeat sounds. The saloon bar was a hive of activity. A few of the regulars were performing the Charleston on the dark stained mahogany dance floor and others were lining the sides as they chatted, taking in the ambience of one of New Yorks most exclusive venues. It was fancy, lavish..it was everything really. Amongst the glitz and glamour; if you happened to look closely enough, you could see a much darker side. Muttered reassurances and closed handshakes, accompanied by silent nods that led to meaningful gazes. There was a dark side to the New York jazz set, and wherever there was luxury, there was usually a deal to be done. Bootleg alcohol, weapons? Who knew..but it was all there playing out behind the scenes.

Molly found herself weaving in between the happy punters, dodging the occasional overzealous elbow from a patron engaged in a rather furious debate. Watching people made her chuckle, she found human nature rather fascinating. It intrigued her to see the different groups of society mixing together. Occasionally it ran smoothly..and others? Well, needless to say, it wasn't pretty. With a tray full of empty glasses, (from the non alcoholic beverages that were on offer of course) she made her way back to the bar. A few of the other girls were doing the same, enjoying the music as they worked. It wasn't a bad job, infact for the most part it was rather enjoyable. The boss; Tony was a very nice man and paid the guys and gals' that worked for him well. Standing to the side with Stef; one of the male employees, Molly conversed casually. Now and again a small chuckle would escape her pretty pink lips at his broken Italian-American accent, and his improper use of certain phrases.

The blonde leaned against the oak bar in a rather relaxed manner. Her blonde hair curled around her ears in the new bob style that every woman seemed to be sporting these days, held in place by a feathered silver band that ran around the top. It was a strange fashion, but Tony expected his girls to look every bit as high brow as the club itself. An emerald dress hugged her figure modestly, emphasising her dark green eyes as the fringing swayed gracefully as she moved. The girls all wore the same dress in varying colours and the guys? Well, they wore a pair of rather dapper white dress pants with a black shirt and white waistcoat, the customary white and black brogues adorned their feet.

It was by all means a classy affair, but classy didn't necessarily mean that it was clean. Tony's workforce were expected to turn a blind eye to the unsavoury business that was often played out before them, and they'd all learnt not to ask questions. It was safer that way; ignorance really was bliss afteral.

Their performance was over. Raymond walked out of the back of the stag minutes later along with his friends. There was Raymond, Charlie, Buddy, Ian, Mike, and Riley. All of them were friends for life, and had their dirty secret of being gang members... but they kept that a very close secret. Everyone around here knew them as the Jazz Boys. Raymond still had his charcoal suit, but his hat was gone. His brown hair was made messy, but looked perfect. His eyes were intense, and seemed to change colors. No one really knew what color they originally were. He was a looker. He knew that, and everyone at the club did too, but he kept his ego down to earth. While his friends decided to start dancing, Raymond wanted a drink. He walked over to the bar, nodding briefly at a few crime lords he was in contact with over the years. As he got to the bar he went over it, reaching for a disguised bottle of whiskey, pouring it into a glass and handing the bartender a dollar for his work.

He leaned against the bar to look at the scene. It was truly nice, besides the drunk men getting in arguments. It was a place where ladies and gentlemen could go to wind down and relax, flirt, drink, dance...He took a sip of his drink, glancing around at the people enjoying their time.

As they made their way back to their rightful place behind the bar, Molly waggled her eyebrows in jest as she laughed at one of Stefan's cheesy jokes. Her eyes glanced around the wooden counter top, slipping some of the bottles back to their normal positions. She'd spotted Raymond, and yes he was incredibly good looking, but Molly wasn't interested in any of that. Romance just complicated things. Some of the other girls had jealous partners lurking about the saloon bar, but not Molly. Independence was something that the young woman enjoyed immensely, and it would have to be something head over the heels fantastic to make her change her mind.

It was a little too warm, which made Molly feel tired. Her feet ached from the uncomfortably high shoes, and it was taking all her will power to actually keep her eyes open. The evening felt like it was dragging in a painfully slow manner, that was until a fight broke out. She turned her head to look, and right on cue, a piece of glass from the broken bottle that was currently being used as a makeshift knife had found its way to her cheek. The guys all jumped out from behind the bar to break it up, with Tony himself stepping in. Molly held her hand to her cheek, noticing that it was bleeding. Fabulous.

Raymond was talking to a couple of flirty girls that made their way to him. He didn't mind a flirt to be honest, especially interesting and pretty ones... But sometimes he wished he had someone to call his own, start a family, leave the life of a gangster and become a man like his father.... An honest, hard working, nice man... but he had a feeling that that would never happen. He made too many wrongs in his past. He might as well enjoy the ride until it all catches up with him. As he chatted and talked, he noticed a pretty little bartender. Although he wasn't a fan of the new fashion these girls had, she still was a stunner. He wasn't going to just go up to her. He guessed that that happened all the time to her by working here... all these drunk full-of-themselves slobs trying to get her in bed for the night. The last thing she would want was another guy trying to flirt with her.

"Hey!" Someone yelled at Raymond. "Why the hell are you talkin' to my girl?" The man yelled again, obviously drunk. Raymond pulled back, his face showing clear disgust. "Phew... Buddy, I hear showering daily helps with that stench..." The girls giggled, the man turned red. "Alex, go away. We broke up.. Mister Chase was telling us an interesting story, now if you would just go..." One of the girls said.

"You think its right takin' someone else's bitch?" The man named Alex yelled, getting closer. Raymond stepped forward. He hated the fact that a man could insult a girl right in front of them... he just didn't like women abuse at all. His mother was killed by one of these guys. Drunk, horny men who raped her and beat her to death. "This girl said you ain't a think anymore. Get lost before you regret it." He said, no amount of fear in his eyes.

Alex took a bottle, hitting it against the table to use as a knife, putting it in Raymond's face. Raymond rolled his eyes and twisted his wrist, breaking it and pushing him away as the bartenders got into the mix. He put it aside, telling the bartender what happened. Bouncers then picked the drunk Alex up, and shoved him off. He turned to see that pretty girl from earlier had her cheek cut. He walked over to her, examining the cut at a respectable distance. "You alright, Miss?" He asked, pulling out a handkerchief from his jacket and handing it to her to help stop the bleeding.

"Well, I was alright." Molly looked at Raymond for a moment, before taking the hankerchief. "Please tell me that you haven't actually blown your nose on this?" Smirking a little, she held it to her cheek. "I would say thank you, but technically it's your fault you know? If you hadn't been flirting with what's-her-name, her neanderthal boyfriend wouldn't have tried to skin you." The girls tone was light, and she was clearly just joking around.

After ensuring that Alex had left the premises, Tony walked over to where the pair were standing. "You okay Moo?" She wasn't sure how she'd gotten the nickname, but everyone seemed to call her Moo at the club. Maybe Molly didn't suit her? Anyhow, she didn't mind it.

"Yes, I'm fine. It's just bleeding a little." Nodding Tony pointed, "Why don't you head home doll? I'll get Jack to give you a ride." Molly nodded, going home sounded perfect. Sighing, the blonde removed the hankerchief from her cheek. "I think it's stopped."

"I may have used that once or twice..." He said with a smile, joking as he watched her. When she started calling him out he held up his hands defensively. "In my defense, they came to me, and the man was too drunk to think... I think it's your guys' fault..." He said with a small smile. His gang was the one who supplied Thr Ace, so either way it was his fault, but would t admit it.

When tony came in he gave him a nod, knowing him as a business partner. He raised his eyebrows at her nickname, smiling as he took the bloodied handkerchief and carefully tossing it aside. "I take it either your name is... Molly, or your parents really liked farm animals." He said reaching for his whiskey, his friends now aware what happened rushing to the bar.

"Uh huh, you're right. They really love farm animals." With an amused roll of her eye's, she glanced towards the clock. "Well, Mr big shot musician, I would say it's been nice meeting you, but I've been brought up not to lie." Winking playfully, she turned and took her jacket from the hook. "Jack I might walk, I kinda need some fresh air." Stertching, the blonde pulled the band off of her head and quickly unpinned her curls, letting them fall down over her shoulders. She looked quite different, but casual suited her a great deal more than fashion.

"I don't think you should walk by yourself."

"Jack, I live in the next street. I can almost see my house from here.."

"I still think that I should walk you. It's not safe."

"I'll be fine.."

The two stared at each other stubbornly, neither willing to back down.

With raised eyebrows Raymond watched her walk off, clearly amused at her comments. Not only did he like her attitude, he liked the length of her hair. He was then taken back to reality when Buddy tapped his shoulder. "What happened, Ray?" He asked, all of them looking at him. "Ah some drunk tried to pick a fight. He's probably in the street somewhere pukin' his guts out..." Ray said, turning his attention to the two bickering people. He turned back to his friends, leaning his head in and talking low. "Make sure the streets are clear around here tonight. I want to make sure she gets home safe. Courtesy of The Band." He said. Buddy gave him a quick nod before they all left the club. He then walked toward Jack and Molly.

"Its a fine night... Jack, was it? I don't think anyone will try anything. The cops have been real secure around these parts lately." He said, making a story up. "Besides... she looks tough enough to fight off any thug. She even has a battle wound." Raymond finished his whiskey, setting it on the table.

Jack chuckled, "Sure, she's a real bruiser." Smirking, he rolled his eyes. "Well, I suppose I'll let it slide. Just be careful." Molly smirked, watching Jack walk back to the bar. "He's my cousin, he always gets a little edgy." Yawning behind her hand, she perked her eyebrow in amusement at Ray. "You know, as it's inadvertently your fault that I have a war wound and the small fact that I'm heading home early..it would be polite to offer to escort me." Wrinkling her nose, she shook her head. "Then again, you are a musician, and they aren't renowned for their manners now are they?"

Molly waved as a couple of familiar faces walked by, speedily ducking to avoid seeing an Ex boyfriend. "They always turn up at the wrong damn time." The boyfriend walk by without noticing her, but he had a good look behind the bar to see if she was working.