"𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆! 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍!"

Steve sighed as he and the row of girls had to start from the top, the scowling face of their director looking up at them from the front row of the audience. It was an expression he knew very well, though he wished for nothing more than to pick a fight and tell the man to just lay off him and the girls, they were trying their best, after all.

"I didn't expect there to be rehearsals all the time," he sighed, passing Evelyn on his way to the curtain, rubbing his face; he was glad they never rehearsed with costumes, because he never would have been able to stand it.

"Well, we can't just get it on the first try, especially since we're on different stages," she replied, now in full professional mode, which meant that she wouldn't be joking with him even if she wanted to, "Be glad he's going easy on you."

There was one more performance in the city before they were off to another one, and they had to make this one great. The mayor couldn't make it to the first show, so he was coming to the last, meaning it had to be great, especially since they extended their tour there because he wasn't able to come to the first.

"Honey, you step with your left two times, not three."

"Oh! Thank you, that makes much more sense."

Steve raised an eyebrow and tried to peer over to where Evelyn was standing next to the brunette from before, showing her a move that she had previously been stumbling through. He couldn't see her face all too well, but it was clear she was grinning brightly, what with the life from her voice that was a stark contrast to everything else around them.

Evelyn caught him looking and he turned away quickly, inwardly cursing once he did. Now she knew he was looking, if he had turned away slowly, she might have thought he was looking at something else.

Sighing, he lifted up his shield, trying to prepare himself for the lines that he couldn't be bothered to memorize, mumbling through the words on the taped piece of paper, rolling his eyes at them just like all the other times.

This wasn't what he wanted to do, so he wasn't about to exercise any more effort than he had to; he'd already done so much, yet not enough.

He sighed as he stepped into the back, hearing the tell-tale sound of the fanfare, signaling his entrance. He took a deep breath before bursting through the curtains, the girls bursting into song.

"Who's strong and brave, here to save the American way?"

An actual soldier fighting the true war, risking his life to make sure that they lived in a world still worth living. Not a sham like him who didn't even sing during a performance number, advertising for people to buy Series E War Bonds.

They used to be Defense Bonds until the war came to them. Defense soon turned to offense and Steve was left behind once again. This time, it wasn't because of his physicality; at least with that, he could find a reason to understand.

"Okay, we're done for the day. Rogers, try to put some life into this, okay, you sound like you're giving a eulogy. Thank you!" The director clapped his hands before heading off, talking to some of the girls who walked up to him, asking questions.

Evelyn walked over to Steve, Jeanine in tow. "Stevie. I think we might have found you a suitable date."

He raised his eyebrows, patronizing them more than anything. "Oh, really? Who?"

"That we can't tell you just yet," the blonde said, "All in due time. Until then, just be yourself and keep doing what you're doing. We'll figure it all out for you."

He rolled his eyes fondly. "And to think I thought I got away from someone meddling in my love life once Bucky left."

"Who's this Bucky you're always on about, he sounds cute," Jeanine said, linking arms with him, Evelyn moving to the other.

Steve laughed fondly, shaking his head. "Bucky. He's, uh...how much time do you have?"

º º º

The performance was a success and the tour was off to another city. They loaded up their things in their vehicles, having to separate into grounds as there were too many people to shove into just one.

Evelyn sat next to Steve in the large vehicle, resting her head against his shoulder, falling asleep. Many of the girls assumed they were in a relationship when, in actuality, Evelyn treated him no different than she did any of her brothers. Her lover was currently overseas, the two exchanging letters frequently.

"This Bucky sounds like a doll," she hummed, "I hope you can see him again."

He sighed, looking out the window. "Yeah, me too."

They drove in silence, Jeanine occasionally leaning over the seat to whisper to either Steve or Evelyn, the other girls either asleep or talking, having to lower their voices when they found themselves growing loud enough to bother the others.

They arrived at the next city when it was already dark, the girls immediately heading off to bed, Steve helping the crew carry everything out. They were still close to New York, but were far away enough to feel like he was somewhere else, unlike how it was in New Jersey.

"This is a nice place," Evelyn commented as they made their way into the hotel which was across the street from the theater they would be performing at.

Steve had to agree; it was nicer than any place he'd ever dreamt of living in. He just wished Bucky was with him to see it. He sighed and followed them upstairs, grabbing his key and heading to his room.

When he stepped inside, he walked over to the window, opening it to see his view. He blanched when he saw the theater staring mockingly at him, reminding him of who he was and what he was doing.

"I'm still helping," he muttered, closing the curtains harshly, as he always wished he could during the real performances, "I'm still fighting the fight."

He fell asleep with the mantra in his mind, forcing himself to believe that he was right when he knew, in his heart, that he was wrong.

º º º

The first performance was a clear success—no one missed their cue and the crowd went wild during the last act with the confetti canon—so the girls decided to head out, with Steve in tow. He begrudgingly agreed, figuring that it would be an interesting tale to tell Bucky of in his letter; he would, of course, talk as little about the actual performance as possible.

"Smile, Steve, you'll look prettier," Jeanine said, patting his cheek. He tried to smile, succeeding in a grimace, and she smiled pitying. "It's okay, Steve, some people can ace that brooding look."

"He's too blond for that," one of the girls said, turning around to look at them, arms linked with the others, much too similar to a part of their dance for Steve's liking.

"Where should we go?" one of the others asked, looking around. The name of the city had escaped him, but Steve knew that it was big and had so much to do, but not enough that they'd be allowed to.

"Let's go dancing!" they cheered, catching sight of a bar with music playing so loud that it could be heard that far down in the streets.

Steve groaned, dragging his feet as the girls all ran towards the bar, leaving him in the dust. He looked around, trying to find a place to scurry off to while the girls had a good time. Unfortunately, there wasn't much else to see, so he decided that he might as well get some drinks.

It would be later revealed to him, after many failed attempts to get him to dance—tried by a number of women and a couple of men—that he could not get drunk. He racked up such a count that Evelyn had to stop him before there wasn't enough money to pay it off.

"I get this is hard for you," she said, tugging him out of the bar and into the cold night air, her words drenched in disappointment, "But you can't go recklessly drinking. You're a symbol now, you can't just go on and be a drunken idiot."

"I'm not drunk," he said, words crystal clear, vision perfect, "I kept trying, but..."

Evelyn frowned. "That's impossible, you drank more than I'd ever seen anyone do, and my father, rest his soul, he went to every speakeasy he could, brought me along with him—"

"You think that me being here is realistic?" he scoffed, marching towards the hotel, letting her chase after him, "I used to be 90 pounds soaking wet, I was sick all the time—me being here is impossible."

"Well, how can you not get drunk?" she demanded, crossing her arms, stopping in her tracks. He stopped, turning around to look at her; despite everything, she still had a grip on him, just like a little sister would.

"Maybe the serum," he offered, shoulders slumping, "I don't know." He rubbed his temples, trying to avoid looking at the theater that seemed to be calling for him mockingly, shining brighter now against the darkness of the night.

Evelyn sighed, shaking her head. "We need to find you someone, Stevie. Can't let you just hole up in your room feeling sorry for yourself, writing letters you never send."

Steve winced at the mention of the letters. "I'll be fine, Evie. Get the girls back safe."

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "You're leaving us alone in this unfamiliar city in the dark? Leaving me to walk by myself? What kind of a man are you?"

He sighed, turning on his heel and walking her back to the bar, muttering under his breath. "A man with a plan, but nowhere to fight."

º º º

On the other side of the unfamiliar city, a young woman—a girl, truth be told—was walking alone, making her way towards a theater whose doors were closed, but ticket booth still open.

She looked around, smiling at the bright lights and different sounds and smells. Not much different than her own place in New Jersey, yet much different all the same.

Her smile faltered as she thought of how much her father would have loved to be with her. If he were with her, perhaps they would be walking earlier, making their way to the show she had missed to perform in her own.

She forced the smile back onto her face, reminding herself that she wouldn't be helping anyone by souring the mood. As the girl, it was her job to keep everyone happy. Her mother and aunt couldn't do it on their own, even with the aid of her cousins. Matthew helped take care of the family, she made sure they stuck together.

But now that she was off on the tour, and Matthew in the war, she had to smile wider; no matter where she went, her smile still brightened their day, and she could only hope that, wherever he was, Matthew could feel her smile and was feeling better because of it.

As she neared the ticket counter, smiling at the man at the booth, she was filled with a sensation she couldn't describe, one so compelling so as to render her body completely immobile.

It was this sensation that, when asked how many tickets she wanted for the show she had mentioned, she replied with the completely irrational answer of, "Two," foregoing even the habitual use of, "Please."

Now, for the ticket man, it bothered him not that this one young girl bought two tickets instead of one, nor did he mind the absence of the word "please," though he would have appreciated it.

For the girl, however, it could not have been more wrong. Despite her omission of the pleasantry and the incorrect count of tickets, she could neither retract the second ticket, nor add the tag.

She just stood there and handed over her money, taking the tickets from the man. With a short nod as a thanks and farewell, she turned and left, still feeling strange, as though she were walking on air, like in a dream, her chest constricting with a kind of panicked excitement without any direction, cause, or reprieve, just a feeling she couldn't be rid of.

She shook her head to herself, desperate to calm herself down despite having had nothing to rile herself up, heading back to the hotel, feet dragging as she thought to herself. Whatever had transpired within her had been unnerving to say the least.

Pushing it out of her mind, the feeling now dissipated, she neared the hotel, catching sight and sound of the other dancers who had all gone out together, all of them giggling and swooning and singing.

With them was the star of the show, Steve Rogers. Captain America himself. He was frowning, standing behind them, clearly keeping trouble at bay, though he didn't seem too vigilant, his mind elsewhere.

They met at the door at the same time, all of them mingling together as they entered. She allowed most of them to enter before her, slipping in at the last second; she was always taught to put others before herself, and she didn't mind it one bit; she liked being kind.

As she headed towards the stairs, the sound of chatter now gone, she head a voice from the bottom.

"Hey, sweetheart, can you hold a sec?"

She turned to look at the girl who danced beside her during one of the lines, Evelyn. She gave her a bright smile, albeit a tired one, not wanting to seem rude, especially with how nice she always was to her, she owed it to the blonde to be more than polite.

"Yes?" she asked, shifting the envelope in her hands, reminding herself of its existence so as not to forget it.

"Whatcha got there?" Evelyn asked, coming to stand on the step beneath her, looking up.

"Show tickets," she replied, shaking it, "I actually bought two, you wanna come with me?"

She watched as a series of thoughts flashed across the girl's face in a whirlwind of emotion, all at once, all unreadable, yet all so important to the blonde herself. She wondered why the blonde had tried to talk to her in the first place.

"I think," Evelyn began, her lips curling into a sly smile, "I know someone who would."

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄

( 1.02.19 )

I've been trying to do some research on the USO tours, both the real and fictional one(s), but I haven't been able to gather much, so some things in this are going to be making assumptions (such as the hotels) so I hope this is alright. Also, I'm not naming any places explicitly because I have no concept of the states despite living in one of them.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!