fic for sanguinity: A Time to Remember
Title: A Time To Remember
Recipient: sanguinity
Author: venusinthenight
Fandom: Watson and Holmes (comic)
Characters: Violetta Smith, Irene Adlero, original female character
Rating: Gen
Warnings: None apply
Summary: The Adventuress was a pivotal album for Violetta, but meeting the woman who made it would become life-changing.
Additional Comments: I was very happy to see your request for Irene and Violetta fic that I had to write them! I had a fantastic time doing so.
Lots of thanks to my beta reader.
Also on AO3: "A Time to Remember"
Violetta had bought The Adventuress on vinyl -- the best way to listen to it, according to that handsome dapper butch who worked in the nearby record store that served as the exclusive retailer. “Make sure you wear headphones,” they said. “So much sonic goodness gets missed if you just use speakers.”
She did what was recommended, and it was a revelation to her. Violetta mused that Irene’s voice was like a hypnotic goddess from on high. Comparisons to other singers were not only unnecessary but an insult.
Three weeks later, Violetta was still listening to the album, even attempting to choreograph a dance to go with “U See But U Don’t Observe”, her favorite track. It was beginning to irritate her roommate, Kit. “You’re gonna wear that down if you’re not careful,” she said one evening after entering their pricey shoebox of a two-bedroom apartment, absentmindedly tossing her keys onto the kitchen counter. “Such a long day at the firm, had no spare time to work on my musical, and I just can’t deal right now,” she added in an attempt to change the subject.
“I don’t care if I wear this out,” retorted Violetta, returning the subject to her favorite album. “I’ll get another one.”
“Well, if you want another copy, you better get it soon. Irene is hot right now.”
Violetta gulped. “What?”
“Yeah, everyone loves her. She’s getting hyped up. The Ritz’s been packed almost every night she and her band play.” Kit plopped down on their velour loveseat and smoothed out her skirt, then began removing her tie and blazer. “Won’t surprise me if she gets signed somewhere real soon.”
-----
The Ritz was buzzing with energy when Violetta could finally get to see and hear Irene sing. There weren’t as many people there as Violetta anticipated there would be, based on what Kit had told her, but she didn’t mind at all. She was there to see only one person, anyway.
Violetta watched and listened, transfixed, as Irene belted out half of the songs from The Adventuress, plus a reggae-infused cover of Nina Simone’s “Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood”. Then Irene announced, “I’m gonna sing a new song for ya now. Haven’t played it for anyone yet, but I think you’ll like it. It’s called ‘What a Woman’.”
Only a few bars in, and Violetta could feel herself vibrating. She shut her eyes and took in every note, vocal break, chord, drum fill, and the wandering bass line. She then mused to herself that there would be no way for all of that to be captured successfully in a recording. No, to Violetta, “What a Woman” was an experience.
-----
Violetta arrived bright and early for her morning shift. Spring had arrived, making mornings more tolerable for riding, both in terms of temperature and scenery.
Most of her fares were uneventful, no interesting people to tell Kit about later. However, just after ten that morning, things were about to get interesting for Violetta. The fare was a dark-skinned person in a bright orange trench coat with a lighter orange hoodie underneath raised to conceal their features, being picked up near Columbus Circle. They took their seat in the back, possibly attempting to be unassuming, but Violetta noticed a certain spark about this fare that she didn’t detect with any of the others. She wanted to know who this person was.
“Lovely afternoon to ride around the city, isn’t it?” Violetta asked.
“It is,” the other person replied.
That voice, Violetta thought. I know it! “Irene Adlero?” she stammered in a loud voice.
“Shhhhhhhhh!” Irene tutted. “Please don’t make a scene.” After a beat, she added, more softly, “Sorry if I was rude. Yes, I’m Irene. I often go out like this. Most people don’t notice it’s me, and I prefer it that way.”
“I’m Violetta. Sorry about my unprofessionalism; I’m just so excited to meet you and know I’d be driving you somewhere. Where’d you like to go?”
Irene let out a nervous laugh. “Don’t worry about it too much. Anyway, take me to Broadway and 79th. Gotta get back home but don’t want to take the subway back all the way, you know? Weather’s too nice!”
“Sure.”
As Violetta pedaled her way up to Irene’s destination, she began singing as she typically did. She didn’t think Irene would be paying much attention to her, so she was taken aback when she heard Irene compliment her on her voice. “That’s pretty good. Vocal break could be better, though. I could help you with that, if you want.”
“You teach singing?” Violetta was impressed, as well as giddy. She hoped Irene wouldn’t notice.
“For the last ten years, off and on. I studied to be a music teacher, but being stuck in a classroom was not my thing. I prefer working privately with people, on a one-on-one basis, so I became a singing instructor instead. It’s also much more flexible with regards to scheduling. I have plenty of time to write and record my songs.”
“Who have you taught before?”
“Lots of different people of various ages from various backgrounds, including lots of high school and college students. They come to me because they know my rates are more affordable than other teachers in the city. Living here is expensive enough as it is!”
Violetta gave a knowing nod. “How much do you charge?”
“Free consultation, then each lesson is twenty-five for a half-hour, with room to negotiate if I need to spend more time with you for a session. If I were to take you on, I’d want to see you twice a week for at least half an hour.”
It didn’t take much longer for Violetta to ask, “When can I start?”
“Next Monday afternoon, if you can. When we get to my stop, I’ll give you my number, and you can call or text me with your answer later.”
-----
Violetta began her voice lessons with Irene, going twice a week for the next few months, and the two became friends in the process, supporting each other at gigs and at the occasional dance practice. As summer was hinting at its own exit to make way for fall, Violetta was in Washington Heights, at Irene’s apartment, finishing her vocal warm-ups for her day’s lesson. Irene dutifully played scales on the piano, but Violetta could see that something wasn’t quite right. Irene was there, physically, but her eyes seemed vacant, like she wasn’t present.
“Irene, what is it?” she asked.
“Oh, nothing.” Irene brushed her off, bemused.
“You’re here,” Violetta returned, gesturing toward the piano bench, “but you’re not here.” She extended her arms out to indicate the space they shared.
Irene hesitated for a moment, then invited Violetta to sit down on the piano bench with her. “I’m moving soon. I won’t be able to teach you anymore.”
“Wait, what?!” Violetta asked, confused and taken aback. “Where are you gonna go?”
“Don’t know yet. But I know I gotta get back to being the Irene I once was.” Irene sighed. “Music was always an outlet for me as well as my passion, to share freely as I wanted. Being bound to Bohemian Raps and bound to Synchroharmony gets in the way of that. This place,” she pointed a finger and spun it up in the air a few times, “was never part of that. It’s a nice place, but I don’t want to blow however-many-thousand a month on an apartment when I could use that money to go somewhere else. Being a voice coach was just a way to pay the bills. I’ve enjoyed doing it, and you in particular have been a phenomenal student, but it’s not what I want to do with my life.” After a beat, she added, “Just like I know driving a pedi-cab around New York isn’t what you want to do with yours.”
Violetta nodded. “I’m also a dancer, and recently I started helping my roommate with a musical she’s been working on for the last several months in her free time. All-female cast, very experimental. She loves it, lights up when we’re bouncing ideas off each other. She also offered me the lead role, if she ever finds a place that’ll mount it.” Her mounting excitement gave way to more somber reflection. “I’d love to be on a theater stage someday, but we can’t expect it will pay the bills, you know?”
“I understand. Being a woman in a creative field is hard enough. Being a black woman in a creative field is like trying to kick down a brick wall all day, every day. People don’t care about us, about our stories; they just want to exploit us for their own gain. That’s another reason I left Bohemian Raps and why I released ‘What a Woman’ on my own, online.”
“You’re taking control of your self back.”
Irene nodded. “Exactly. I’m excited, ready to move on to new things, but there is something I’ll miss. Or, rather, someone.”
“Who?”
“I’m talkin’ to her right now.”
Violetta was floored, but also flattered. “I’ll miss you, too, Irene. I just hope you don’t disappear forever.”
“I don’t plan to.” After a beat, Irene added, “Maybe the next time I see you, you’ll be on Broadway singing the female lead’s solo in you and your roommate’s musical and people will have no choice but to throw every single award at you.”
Violetta laughed. “I would love that.”
“Cool. Meanwhile, let’s get on with your lesson. What’d you bring in to sing today?”
Violetta got up to retrieve her bag with her sheet music. “‘I Will Always Love You’. Long-time favorite.”
“Interesting choice!” Irene noted, amused.
-----
Years later, Violetta found herself on stage at the Tony Awards accepting the Best Actress in a Musical award for that same musical she and Kit had worked on. She thanked many of the usual people one would thank in an acceptance speech -- her castmates, everyone who worked behind the scenes, and Kit. Finally, she said, her voice shaking with nerves, “I would like to dedicate this to a very important woman in my life: Irene Adlero. She was my voice coach, a mentor, and a very dear friend to me as I began this journey several years ago. What a woman she was and is. Irene, wherever you are, I love you. Always will.”
She blew a kiss toward the crowd as they applauded, before she was escorted off-stage to answer questions for the media. Out of Violetta’s line of sight, toward the back of the auditorium, was Irene with her partner, Jeffrey. Irene blew a kiss back, smiling like a proud mother.
Recipient: sanguinity
Author: venusinthenight
Fandom: Watson and Holmes (comic)
Characters: Violetta Smith, Irene Adlero, original female character
Rating: Gen
Warnings: None apply
Summary: The Adventuress was a pivotal album for Violetta, but meeting the woman who made it would become life-changing.
Additional Comments: I was very happy to see your request for Irene and Violetta fic that I had to write them! I had a fantastic time doing so.
Lots of thanks to my beta reader.
Also on AO3: "A Time to Remember"
Violetta had bought The Adventuress on vinyl -- the best way to listen to it, according to that handsome dapper butch who worked in the nearby record store that served as the exclusive retailer. “Make sure you wear headphones,” they said. “So much sonic goodness gets missed if you just use speakers.”
She did what was recommended, and it was a revelation to her. Violetta mused that Irene’s voice was like a hypnotic goddess from on high. Comparisons to other singers were not only unnecessary but an insult.
Three weeks later, Violetta was still listening to the album, even attempting to choreograph a dance to go with “U See But U Don’t Observe”, her favorite track. It was beginning to irritate her roommate, Kit. “You’re gonna wear that down if you’re not careful,” she said one evening after entering their pricey shoebox of a two-bedroom apartment, absentmindedly tossing her keys onto the kitchen counter. “Such a long day at the firm, had no spare time to work on my musical, and I just can’t deal right now,” she added in an attempt to change the subject.
“I don’t care if I wear this out,” retorted Violetta, returning the subject to her favorite album. “I’ll get another one.”
“Well, if you want another copy, you better get it soon. Irene is hot right now.”
Violetta gulped. “What?”
“Yeah, everyone loves her. She’s getting hyped up. The Ritz’s been packed almost every night she and her band play.” Kit plopped down on their velour loveseat and smoothed out her skirt, then began removing her tie and blazer. “Won’t surprise me if she gets signed somewhere real soon.”
-----
The Ritz was buzzing with energy when Violetta could finally get to see and hear Irene sing. There weren’t as many people there as Violetta anticipated there would be, based on what Kit had told her, but she didn’t mind at all. She was there to see only one person, anyway.
Violetta watched and listened, transfixed, as Irene belted out half of the songs from The Adventuress, plus a reggae-infused cover of Nina Simone’s “Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood”. Then Irene announced, “I’m gonna sing a new song for ya now. Haven’t played it for anyone yet, but I think you’ll like it. It’s called ‘What a Woman’.”
Only a few bars in, and Violetta could feel herself vibrating. She shut her eyes and took in every note, vocal break, chord, drum fill, and the wandering bass line. She then mused to herself that there would be no way for all of that to be captured successfully in a recording. No, to Violetta, “What a Woman” was an experience.
-----
Violetta arrived bright and early for her morning shift. Spring had arrived, making mornings more tolerable for riding, both in terms of temperature and scenery.
Most of her fares were uneventful, no interesting people to tell Kit about later. However, just after ten that morning, things were about to get interesting for Violetta. The fare was a dark-skinned person in a bright orange trench coat with a lighter orange hoodie underneath raised to conceal their features, being picked up near Columbus Circle. They took their seat in the back, possibly attempting to be unassuming, but Violetta noticed a certain spark about this fare that she didn’t detect with any of the others. She wanted to know who this person was.
“Lovely afternoon to ride around the city, isn’t it?” Violetta asked.
“It is,” the other person replied.
That voice, Violetta thought. I know it! “Irene Adlero?” she stammered in a loud voice.
“Shhhhhhhhh!” Irene tutted. “Please don’t make a scene.” After a beat, she added, more softly, “Sorry if I was rude. Yes, I’m Irene. I often go out like this. Most people don’t notice it’s me, and I prefer it that way.”
“I’m Violetta. Sorry about my unprofessionalism; I’m just so excited to meet you and know I’d be driving you somewhere. Where’d you like to go?”
Irene let out a nervous laugh. “Don’t worry about it too much. Anyway, take me to Broadway and 79th. Gotta get back home but don’t want to take the subway back all the way, you know? Weather’s too nice!”
“Sure.”
As Violetta pedaled her way up to Irene’s destination, she began singing as she typically did. She didn’t think Irene would be paying much attention to her, so she was taken aback when she heard Irene compliment her on her voice. “That’s pretty good. Vocal break could be better, though. I could help you with that, if you want.”
“You teach singing?” Violetta was impressed, as well as giddy. She hoped Irene wouldn’t notice.
“For the last ten years, off and on. I studied to be a music teacher, but being stuck in a classroom was not my thing. I prefer working privately with people, on a one-on-one basis, so I became a singing instructor instead. It’s also much more flexible with regards to scheduling. I have plenty of time to write and record my songs.”
“Who have you taught before?”
“Lots of different people of various ages from various backgrounds, including lots of high school and college students. They come to me because they know my rates are more affordable than other teachers in the city. Living here is expensive enough as it is!”
Violetta gave a knowing nod. “How much do you charge?”
“Free consultation, then each lesson is twenty-five for a half-hour, with room to negotiate if I need to spend more time with you for a session. If I were to take you on, I’d want to see you twice a week for at least half an hour.”
It didn’t take much longer for Violetta to ask, “When can I start?”
“Next Monday afternoon, if you can. When we get to my stop, I’ll give you my number, and you can call or text me with your answer later.”
-----
Violetta began her voice lessons with Irene, going twice a week for the next few months, and the two became friends in the process, supporting each other at gigs and at the occasional dance practice. As summer was hinting at its own exit to make way for fall, Violetta was in Washington Heights, at Irene’s apartment, finishing her vocal warm-ups for her day’s lesson. Irene dutifully played scales on the piano, but Violetta could see that something wasn’t quite right. Irene was there, physically, but her eyes seemed vacant, like she wasn’t present.
“Irene, what is it?” she asked.
“Oh, nothing.” Irene brushed her off, bemused.
“You’re here,” Violetta returned, gesturing toward the piano bench, “but you’re not here.” She extended her arms out to indicate the space they shared.
Irene hesitated for a moment, then invited Violetta to sit down on the piano bench with her. “I’m moving soon. I won’t be able to teach you anymore.”
“Wait, what?!” Violetta asked, confused and taken aback. “Where are you gonna go?”
“Don’t know yet. But I know I gotta get back to being the Irene I once was.” Irene sighed. “Music was always an outlet for me as well as my passion, to share freely as I wanted. Being bound to Bohemian Raps and bound to Synchroharmony gets in the way of that. This place,” she pointed a finger and spun it up in the air a few times, “was never part of that. It’s a nice place, but I don’t want to blow however-many-thousand a month on an apartment when I could use that money to go somewhere else. Being a voice coach was just a way to pay the bills. I’ve enjoyed doing it, and you in particular have been a phenomenal student, but it’s not what I want to do with my life.” After a beat, she added, “Just like I know driving a pedi-cab around New York isn’t what you want to do with yours.”
Violetta nodded. “I’m also a dancer, and recently I started helping my roommate with a musical she’s been working on for the last several months in her free time. All-female cast, very experimental. She loves it, lights up when we’re bouncing ideas off each other. She also offered me the lead role, if she ever finds a place that’ll mount it.” Her mounting excitement gave way to more somber reflection. “I’d love to be on a theater stage someday, but we can’t expect it will pay the bills, you know?”
“I understand. Being a woman in a creative field is hard enough. Being a black woman in a creative field is like trying to kick down a brick wall all day, every day. People don’t care about us, about our stories; they just want to exploit us for their own gain. That’s another reason I left Bohemian Raps and why I released ‘What a Woman’ on my own, online.”
“You’re taking control of your self back.”
Irene nodded. “Exactly. I’m excited, ready to move on to new things, but there is something I’ll miss. Or, rather, someone.”
“Who?”
“I’m talkin’ to her right now.”
Violetta was floored, but also flattered. “I’ll miss you, too, Irene. I just hope you don’t disappear forever.”
“I don’t plan to.” After a beat, Irene added, “Maybe the next time I see you, you’ll be on Broadway singing the female lead’s solo in you and your roommate’s musical and people will have no choice but to throw every single award at you.”
Violetta laughed. “I would love that.”
“Cool. Meanwhile, let’s get on with your lesson. What’d you bring in to sing today?”
Violetta got up to retrieve her bag with her sheet music. “‘I Will Always Love You’. Long-time favorite.”
“Interesting choice!” Irene noted, amused.
-----
Years later, Violetta found herself on stage at the Tony Awards accepting the Best Actress in a Musical award for that same musical she and Kit had worked on. She thanked many of the usual people one would thank in an acceptance speech -- her castmates, everyone who worked behind the scenes, and Kit. Finally, she said, her voice shaking with nerves, “I would like to dedicate this to a very important woman in my life: Irene Adlero. She was my voice coach, a mentor, and a very dear friend to me as I began this journey several years ago. What a woman she was and is. Irene, wherever you are, I love you. Always will.”
She blew a kiss toward the crowd as they applauded, before she was escorted off-stage to answer questions for the media. Out of Violetta’s line of sight, toward the back of the auditorium, was Irene with her partner, Jeffrey. Irene blew a kiss back, smiling like a proud mother.