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All Eyes On Me	By : ibgarry Category: +G through L > Ib Views: 1241 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Previously uploaded on AO3 and FFN. I do not own Ib or its characters, nor do I make money from this story.

Chapter List
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Rosie’s Cabaret at the edge of town wasn't as shabby as most, although its name would suggest so. It had been around for ages, and Garry had never seen the building as anything but a club. Before he began work there, the building was nothing less than terrifying to him until he found that its staff were all friendly. Each performer was close with the other; they were practically family. Garry was lucky enough to work with a staff body that treated him well. Because of this, he’d never felt a need to leave Rosie’s.
He had since grown used to his forced facade of constant enjoyment that he had learned to hold for as long as he worked. It was never too hard to pull off, at least for him. He was never really alone on stage when he announced, either. For the most part, he had people cheering after everything he said (although, it wasn't always for him.) He and his co-announcer had a sort of brotherly bond, as well, of which he was incredibly greatful for.
Then there was Mary, the owner's daughter, who was a performer herself. She had an array of fans and regulars who Garry had seen frequently. They came just for her, usually, and Mary went out to say hello to her fans whenever they showed up. The other dancers had these as well, but not nearly as many as Mary, nor did they have the time to greet fans face-to-face unless it was for haggling. Frankly, Mary was very loud and very bossy, so Garry had casually avoided her. He couldn’t avoid her when she approached him or ran into him in the back alley out of the fear of being fired, but she was bearable for at least a minute or so.
Because the dancers were all so tight-knit in their relationships, newbies were a sort of treat for them, especially since a dry season of good news was a constant. Because everyone was already comfortable with each other, the manager didn’t like to hire new performers; fitting them into routine was hard enough. Garry had seen enough people come and go in the time he had worked at Rosie’s, so it was really nothing new to him; he’d learned how to adapt to changes in schedule. It was more or less his job, after all.
The manager called an impromptu meeting to be held fifteen minutes before the night began. There, he announced a new girl, nineteen years old. She would be one of the youngest performers in the cabaret. She had applied there, which was pretty audacious for someone so young considering Rosie’s was never really hiring, nor was the boss open to accepting applications. In order to have a chance to apply, you had to perform well over a long period of time, so word of God meant she was incredible. Despite his strict standards, the manager was excited at the news he’d delivered, seeming quite positive about his decision. Mary cheered her father on, more excited about his announcement than the new girl she would soon meet.
It was a good night for Rosie’s. After the long night of performances came to a close and Garry retreated to the narrow back hall, Mary was already quick on her feet with a circle of performers who had long been off the stage, sharing gossip that the new girl would be arriving the following night. In a way, she was already a celebrity, though none of them had seen her perform. They were ecstatic. Some of the performers planned on arriving early the following night. It was Garry’s job to be there before anyone else, so he had no reason to fret.

The girl was there, like everyone had guessed, early in the evening, speaking to the manager at a table in the audience. The manager was impossibly loud—he had a better announcing voice than Garry. The new girl was small in her chair, and she was making a distressing effort to listen to what her new boss was trying to say. Garry tried to ignore them.
His podium was in the far corner of the stage, a couple papers sitting against the ledge. He could tell from across the room that they were all schedules. He knew they were for him; he shuffled across the stage, trying not to catch the eye of the manager.
As he made his way across the stage, he heard the painful call of his name. Garry had no choice but to redirect his attention.
Meeting this girl wasn’t an annoyance as much as it stressed him out to be talking to someone he wasn’t familiar with; small talk was never his specialty. He hopped gracefully off the stage, stepping to the table. The manager stood up and gestured to the girl. Garry straightened his tie.
"Garry, this is Ib, our new performer." Ib stood up and stretched out her hand to him.
"An honor to meet you." Garry stooped to kiss her hand; when he stood, he could tell such a greeting was not something she was used to. She didn’t wipe her hand off, although she seemed to be itching to do so, and he was somewhat embarrassed, wondering if it had been a good idea to greet her that way.
"Garry, if it’s not too much trouble, could you help her around? Just for tonight." Garry was not compelled to ask what sort of work his boss was going to do. The manager stepped away quickly and made his way to the front door, leaving Ib in Garry's company.
She brushed off her skirt when the silence hung heavy over the two of them. Garry analyzed her; she was shorter than most, but still thin. Her face was round and rosy, but her eyes weren't as kind-- a deep, mesmerizing red. Her eyeliner was enough to intimidate him.
Garry offered a hand. "Shall we?"
She nodded and took it, stepping around the table. Her heels clicked against the linoleum floor. "Sorry for the trouble.”
"No, not a problem," He assured her. "Ib, is it?"
"Yeah." Garry realized she was avoiding eye contact with him; her eyes darted around the room, watching everything but him.
He signaled slowly for her to follow, and in a flash she was right on his heels. "Did the boss say anything about your dressing room?" He asked.
"He said I shared my room with Mary." She spoke as if Mary's name was a joke of its own. Garry cringed.
"Alright, I'll walk you there. It's not far." Ib walked alongside him.
The click of her heels was all that filled the silence. She dressed really well, despite the fact that she would be changing out of her nice clothes in an hour’s time. She would probably stop dressing so well over the course of a few weeks, Garry thought.
Ib needed no signal to follow Garry as he opened the door to the back hall. The hall was mostly vacant, but he could hear the distant voices of other girls somewhere in the building. The second door to the right was Mary's. Each door was always unlocked. He pushed open the door, and Ib ducked under his arm as he held the door open for her. As Garry peered in, he was grateful to find Mary had not yet arrived for the night. She was often "fashionably late".
Garry hesitated in the doorway, not entirely sure if staying to help was necessary. There was a third rack of clothes in the room in the far corner, many of them an iconic dazzling red, and Garry knew immediately that it belonged to Ib. Carrie’s wardrobe was at the front of the room, a selection of pearly blues and pastel pinks.
He had helped every performer in the staff body get ready at least three times over, Mary and Carrie included, so he was very familiar with the wardrobes of most dancers and the dancers themselves. Stripping down around other people was only something new to Ib, so he felt that offering to help was pushing a social boundary Ib had yet to adjust to.
"Don't be afraid to ask for help, alright?" He told her. "The ladies would all be glad to help you out."
She smiled warmly with a nod, turning to the vanity. She popped the latch to a black makeup kit, and it swung open.
"Will you be alright without me here?" He shifted his weight.
"I think so, yeah."
"Alright. If you need me, send Mary for me. I'll come running."
She was too new to be left alone, but she looked so comfortable and pleased, just sitting in front of her vanity. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with the thought of leaving her there, but he knew she was waiting for him to leave. He closed the door behind him and strode down the hall, remembering suddenly the papers he’d left on the stage.

According to the papers, his co-announcer would be on when Ib was; however, her name was written "Eve" on the schedule. There was no clear effort put into making the schedule besides time frames, worsened by the decision made by his boss of Ib being on stage while Garry would be changing. Both Ib and Garry's coworker were both relatively new, one more so than the other; he hoped they could coordinate if anything went wrong.
Garry's co-announcer was a good guy, but he was relatively new, which translated to cluelessness. He had a bout of stage fright, as well. Garry was nothing less than anxious, but he wasn’t going to start an argument with the manager over shifts. He trusted his partner enough.
He ran by Mary and Ib's room, rapping against the door. "You alright in there?" He called. He heard Mary's voice in reply: "Go away!" followed by some scuffling. He hadn’t quite expected Mary to arrive so soon, especially not while he had been away. He heard Carrie inside as well, speaking quietly at first. He caught "No, it's fine..." before she yelled, "Garry, come on in!"
Ib protested, and her speech was entirely unclear to him.
"Do I want to come in?" He countered, knowing Ib was probably changing and Carrie was trying to break her in.
"Oh, don’t fret. He’s seen it all before,” Carrie scoffed, as if Garry couldn't hear her. Ib protested again.
Someone inside opened the door for him. He turned away instantly, respecting her unspoken desire to be left alone with those of the same gender, but someone pulled him inside.
Garry didn’t turn to face the room. Carrie stepped forward and closed the door. Garry reached for the door handle to make a quick exit, but Carrie swatted his hand away, scowling. She was already fully-costumed, but she couldn’t have been at work for longer than ten minutes. She was good at that.
She stepped forward. "C'mon, help us out."
"She doesn’t want me in here, Carrie," Garry hissed under his breath, leaning forward.
Carrie glanced over his shoulder. "Ib, do you want Garry's help? See, she said yes."
"I didn’t say anything."
"Carrie."
Garry stepped forward, and she stopped him again. They eyed each other for a moment.
Carrie rolled her eyes. "You'd think the girl would be used to being naked in front of other people." The door snapped open.
"Give it some time, alright? Go easy on her, at least..."
Carrie shut the door gently. Garry stood outside for a moment, hesitating before stepping away. Inside, Garry could still hear Carrie's voice, encouraging Ib to change.
Although it was truly uncommon for most of the performers to be uncomfortable with being naked in the presence of other people, she would get used to it like everyone else did. Maybe not as quickly. He felt bad, though; if she really was so nervous about her costume, he didn't know how she was going to handle dancing around in it unless he had been right about her finding confidence in performing.
Garry checked the schedule to reassure himself that Ib was second-to-last to perform before he switched out with his co-announcer. The schedule had been written in rows and columns, and he had jumbled a few; she was actually last to perform before he closed. Hopefully, then, he would catch her before he went on for the rest of the night. There was always a chance.
He returned to the back rooms to find everything a bit busier, some of the doors held ajar while the loud voices from other rooms carried out into the hall. Mary's door was open, enough for Garry to walk through. Carrie was sitting in a fold-out chair, texting with a broken prop and hot glue gun in her lap, as if she had been trying to bring herself to make progress on prop repair but was distracting herself with her phone. Garry stood outside the door, leaning against the wall with a hand on one hip. He could see Carrie easily from the hallway; she had her chair pushed up against the section of open wall near her dressing room door.
"How's the repair work?" Garry asked, and Carrie looked up, laughing dryly.
"Mary gave me this thing to fix." Carrie waved it half-heartedly in the air. Garry realized the prop was a fake pink phone; a button or two had fallen off. She didn't hesitate to drop the thing back in her lap. She continued, "She ran off to introduce Ib to everyone."
Garry was a little bitter, realizing Ib hadn’t wanted him around, but he brushed it off; he already had his chance to meet her. "It shouldn’t take longer than a minute. Repairing the prop, I mean. You might as well just get it done."
"Well, y’know..." She waved her real phone, and Garry knew she didn’t plan on repairing the prop anytime soon. "Wanna come sit with me?" She patted the seat of the chair next to her.
"I still need to change."
"Oh, right, forgot about that. You're so classy I often forget you have to wear a costume in the first place." She clicked her tongue and winked.
Garry chuckled. "Yeah, whatever. Fix the prop."
The door adjacent from Mary's dressing room opened, releasing the noise of many different voices from inside the room into the open hall. Garry turned his attention to the door as Carrie continued texting whoever in God’s name would actually text her. Mary stepped out of the opposite dressing room with Ib in tow, parting conversation with the girls inside. Ib froze when she saw Garry, her makeup already done and her costume mostly on. He could tell her costume wasn’t completely finished; she was wearing a different blouse, covered in stray powders. Her winged eyeliner was perfectly on-point, and he wondered for a moment if she had done it herself.
Ib was frantic. Garry offered a greeting, but Ib held herhands close to her chest and nodded, smiling feebly. At that moment, Garry realized that she probably hadn’t wanted him to see her that way a second time around. It was an unavoidable truth, but she wasn’t on the same level, surely.
Mary turned, saw Garry, and ignored his presence, dragging Ib along behind her. Ib stumbled forward as Mary pushed open the door to the dressing room she shared, pulling Ib in with her. Carrie watched them both and he watched Carrie, and when her gaze shifted to a space behind the door, he realized Mary was closing the door to the dressing room. Garry moved along to change wardrobe. The door slammed shut behind him.
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All Eyes On Me