My second book in my imagines collection. With characters from all fandoms, ranging from Satoru Gojo to Violet Baudelaire, and more! (With stories for both male and female readers!)
The smoky haze of the Garrison pub swirled around Y/N as she finished her nightly performance, her voice still echoing off the weathered walls. It was another Friday evening, and as usual, Thomas Shelby sat in his corner booth, nursing a glass of whiskey, his piercing blue eyes fixed on her throughout her entire set.
She'd been singing at the Garrison for nearly a year now, and over that time, something undefined had grown between them. Tommy never missed her performances if he could help it, though he rarely spoke about them directly. Instead, he would occasionally leave a single red rose on the bar for her, or ensure that Arthur poured her favourite gin and tonic without charge.
As Y/N gathered her sheet music, she noticed Tommy making his way toward her, his signature flat cap casting shadows across his face in the dim lighting.
"Your voice gets stronger every week," he said, lighting a cigarette. The smoke curled around them both, creating an intimate bubble in the crowded pub.
"Thank you, Tommy," Y/N replied, trying to steady her racing heart. Even after all this time, his presence still affected her like this. "Actually, I've got some news I wanted to share with you."
Tommy's eyebrow raised slightly – the closest he usually came to showing surprise. "Go on then."
"I've been booked at The Grand Hotel," she said, unable to contain her excitement. "Their main club. This Saturday night."
For a moment, Tommy was silent, studying her face with that intense gaze that seemed to see right through to her soul. Then, the corner of his mouth twitched upward. "The Grand, eh? That's quite something."
"It is," Y/N nodded, wringing her hands together. "I was wondering... would you come? I know it's not your usual sort of evening, but—"
"I'll be there," Tommy interrupted, taking a long drag from his cigarette. "Wouldn't miss it."
__
The week leading up to the performance passed in a blur of rehearsals and nervous energy. Y/N practised until her throat was raw, determined to prove herself worthy of the opportunity. The Grand Hotel was leagues above the local pubs where she usually performed – this could be her real chance at making a name for herself.
Saturday evening arrived, and Y/N stood backstage at The Grand, peeking through the curtain at the gathered crowd. The club was filled with Birmingham's elite, men in tailored suits and women dripping in jewels. Her heart nearly stopped when she spotted Tommy entering the room, looking devastatingly handsome in a black three-piece suit that set him apart from even this well-dressed crowd.
He took a seat near the stage, and their eyes met briefly through the gap in the curtain. He gave her a subtle nod that somehow managed to calm her racing pulse.
The club's manager approached her. "You're on in five minutes, Miss."
Y/N smoothed down her emerald green evening gown – the nicest dress she owned – and took several deep breaths. This was her moment, and she was ready.
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