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to be all alone and with someone.

Summary:

post-2x10.

what could've happened if midge didn't go to see joel after the steve allen's show, and instead went for a drink with lenny.

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his song hit too close to home. it was a spectacular performance, really; he was, as always, brilliant. though, midge felt slightly dizzy afterwards. it was one thing that she started to realize just how high the facade of lenny bruce stood, and just how oblivious the whole audience had been; he was pouring out his soul, even if with humour, and no one got the hint of that. it pained her to watch him like this. it also made her pity herself. mrs. maisel was the reflection of her which somehow blended perfectly with the reflection of lenny, himself. in a way, she was looking in a mirror; practically watching herself on stage, confessing to how she'd doomed herself to the life of loneliness. the worst part of it all, was that she didn't regret it; she wouldn't take it back.

she was egoistic and she deserved it. earlier that day, she'd rewritten her whole life within the course of a single five minute phone call. when agreeing to open for shy baldwin, there were only several meaningful thoughts occupying her mind; those involving her children and parent, as well as the likely scandal joel was going to put up due to her leaving for such a long period of time. next in line stood susie's excitement and approval, mixed with vague outlines of potential clothes fits which were beginning to form inside her designer's corner of the mind. and then.. she briefly thought of how proud that would make lenny. how he'd gift her with that grin of his and slowly nod his head; saying he's impressed, or that she's lovely, again. all those thoughts were there, and they seemed to be the most efficient ones. except, she was engaged. to be married. she didn't remember the said circumstance until her father had caught her hanging out the newly pitched clothes within their wardrobe room; telling her he was ready to give his blessings. midge had suddenly felt sick to her stomach. she'd also felt partially relieved, and at that even more guilty; a part of her had already doubted that particular decision(to commit), but now.. she just knew it wasn't right. she couldn't have forgotten benjamin if he'd mattered to her as much as a husband should. hell, she even remembered lenny, who was.. actually, thinking of him brought her more thrill than thinking of benjamin and joel combined. but that was a whole other story.

 

and now, midge was standing backstage, watching the man who appeared to be one of the greatest comedians of their time finalize his act. he'd sort of told her life story, just there; divorcing and making up with spouses, sharing children, blaming. could it be that he was talking about himself? could it be that they really were the same? she didn't even know if he was divorced, or had children. when she was bailing him out, she found out he did have a wife; well, she even got a glimpse of the woman, later. that one didn't seem too bright; she didn't think lenny would stick with it. but then again, that was years ago. neither of them ever behaved as married people should, when being around each other. they hadn't shared as much as a kiss, and yet she felt more intimacy with him than she had with benjamin during the first few months of their lasting courtship. the doctor was looking for weird and unusual, but he was plain to her. even thinking of that, alone, was shameful.

and thus, once lenny had appeared backstage, the brunette struggled to maintain her expression. "are you alright?" — he asked her, before anything else. he'd just given a performance at the steve allen's show, she was there for his support, and yet he was the one supporting her. she huffed out a chuckle; it sounded choked and desperate, which is why she had to clear her throat. blinking several times, the woman shook her head, then instantly began nodding, as though to try and rid him of the stirring confusion; she wanted to say she was alright. or, rather, she would be. "let's get out of here." she suggested, and he complied. waving off to some of the guys, he placed his hand onto her lower back; carefully leading her forward. she held in a groan of inner battling; her urge was to grip tightly onto the sleeve of his suit jacket. hold onto him. his presence was calming; his hold, enthralling. she wanted to inhale him, but unfortunately she already had a coat on; that meant she couldn't borrow his.

"want to get a drink?" — she nods to his inquiry. a drink was needed and well-deserved. as the two were approaching the studio's exit, lenny's hand suddenly disappeared from her back. he was checking in to get his coat and she silently damned there being a wardrobe. she wanted to be held, but not just by anyone. it was pathetic, she was aware. 

 

the walk to the bar was unusually silent, with the pair lost each in their own thoughts. midge contemplated her life decisions and prospects, while lenny fancied the moonlight illuminating her features. he wasn't particularly used to seeing her so quiet, though somehow he got the sense he'd better not push it. midge was aware of the studying gaze on her, but thankful for his giving her time. the pair could read each other unfortunately well, for being but friendly colleagues.

once they got to the pub, lenny held the door open for her; "such a gentleman." she toned, with quiet humour. he bowed his head jokingly shyly, and proceeded inside after her. they were sat in the very corner of the godforsaken building; the bar table had been all occupied, and so they got a separate booth. the word 'booth' would really be pushing it, though, as she could barely fit her bag onto the seat together with her whole frame. her left knee was in dangerous proximity with lenny's own. she kept sipping on his whiskey instead of her martini; this bar didn't sell cigarettes, so they were sharing his last. they were sharing everything, even the air within that little booth. and, for just a split second there, she sort of wished all the papers were true; she wished she'd shared the bed with him. she wanted to sleep with him as much as she wanted to fuck him. it was strange, and she was most likely tipsy, because she'd barely eaten that day.

"a shame, isn't it?" he must've read her mind, because the said inquiry was as indefinite as it was obvious. "what is?" she retorted, hoping to play dumb. lenny paused, but gave her that look. hungry. he could devour her, but for some reason didn't risk it. she couldn't decide whether she wanted him to. "everything." and then she grinned, knowingly. it was a shame, indeed. all of it.

"do you really think we're bound to end up alone and rich?" — she was finishing off their cigarette. "no." — in other words, 'yes'. she put the cigarette out, watching him inquisitively. "not necessarily rich." he explained, and she smiled. amused. it was heartbreaking, but at least he was being honest. she trusted him. she had her reasons. "i'm going to be opening for shy baldwin, on tour." it was a weird timing, but she felt compelled to share. lenny's eyebrows rose up, whilst he contemplated the seriousness of her statement. then, his knee slightly nudged hers. "good for you." — it was simple, but heartfelt. his gaze and his tone explained it all. she felt so seen. they stared, and then she nodded again. there was that tension, again; pressuring and tickling. she didn't want to escape it.

they sat there for a while. they drank and laughed; talked a little, stared much more. it was a 'goodbye' and a 'hello'. she wanted him to take her home. he respected her so much, that he wouldn't. she wanted to go home with him. he wanted her more.

 

it was nearing the morning, when they stood on the porch outside. he was getting her a cab, and she was watching his back and hand motioning. he had a very attractive back. she had to remind herself she was still tipsy. once the car approached them, lenny turned to face her, once again. they stood in silence, smiling like drunken idiots. he was towering over her, and she was looking at his lips; he noticed her stare and she could swear his expression looked pained for a mere second. if he kissed her, she'd faint. if she kissed him, he'd disappear.

"take my number." she suggested, demanding in a little prayer. "why?" he already knew. "because i want you to have it." — she wanted him to call her, but she wouldn't say it.

 

he took the number, but they both knew he wouldn't call. he would dream of her, though. and then try to make sense of it all, and whether it was even true and had happened with the real her. midge would probably dream of him, as well. but she'd forget it by the morning.

 

they belonged to each other during the nights, but not quite like they wished to.