DCTV moodboards: Coldwestallen - 1930â˛s nightclub AU
Made for @coldwestallenweek2019 day 1, prompt â30sâ.
Quotes from the lyrics of âDream A Little Dream Of Meâ by Ella Fitzgerald.
Barry really needs a job and Leonard Snart, despite his speakeasy reputation, appears to be going legit these days. Itâs not that good a prospect at first â errands and odd jobs â but doing grunt work seems to earn everyoneâs respect.
One day, a bright red automotive turns up - finer than any Barry has had the pleasure to look at before â and Snart tosses him the keys. âDrive me,â is all he says. Barry reacts fast, fumbling a touch but still catching them alright. He gapes at little at the keys in his hands but doesnât actually have to be asked twice. Later the story comes out that it was a deliberately ostentatious âgiftâ from one of Snartâs business associates. Not to his tastes by all accounts and quite likely used anyway out of spite.
From then on Barry is the only one to drive him anywhere and always in that earnestly red vehicle. He tries desperately not to ask too many questions but itâs in his nature. Snart â who insists he doesnât call him Mister â takes his babbling a lot better than Barry expects. Thereâs plenty of eye rolling, and frequent comments that are part-derisive, part-something else (that could be affection or simply amused tolerance), but he isnât fired or busted back to errand boy.
And then Snart signs his showstopper. The illustrious Ms. West headlining at his premier club. Barry isnât the only one who canât take his eyes off her, but her voice is something spectacular and Barry can see sheâs earned every accolade. Soon enough the papers get to printing rumors about her and Len â sheâs never called him anything else, right from the start.
Barry doesnât know what to make of it that somewhere along the line Snart had decided he was also fine to use the nickname, that could be construed as overly familiar. Barry drives Iris too, anywhere and everywhere, amiably chatting as if they are old friends. Each day he watches her look wistfully at the papers as if she wished they said different about her, despite the praise mingled in with the gossip.
Of course, the gossip shifts focus, to her and Barry, friendlier than a star and her driver are supposed to be. The papers like to imply many things, including Lenâs tastes stretching further afield than some might expect and a small part of Barry feels hopeful at hearing that. He shouldnât care. It shouldnât matter, but maybe it doesâŚto him at least.
The papers will probably never guess how much fondness there is between them three, however separate each connection is. Theyâd never guess what it is he dreams of when he allows himself to dream properly of a life with fewer boundaries than the one he currently inhabits. Perhaps itâs lucky then that neither Iris nor Len care much for sticking to the rules when the rules donât tend to serve them.