The year was 1948 and it wasn’t getting any easier. On the contrary, it was getting harder and harder to hide. Maybe it would be easier in a nice little town somewhere; a farm, a quiet suburb, anywhere one can keep to oneself. But no, Rosalina didn’t live in a little town— she lived in New York City.

Granted, there were a lot of different viewpoints and lifestyles in the City. People tended to just do whatever they wanted. But she knew she couldn’t just...tell people about it. It wasn’t something people exactly talked about. Especially considering she was one of the best dancers in the damn state. She wasn’t a Rockette, exactly, but she performed in clubs, bars, theaters, restaurants...folk knew who she was. Not to mention the whole gang of dancers who were right up there dancing with her. No, she couldn’t tell them, or anyone. She had to get her intel another way. But that was the thing about New York, once you knew about something you could learn more.

At first Rosalina thought no one else at all was like her. Then she found out about the magazines, and novels, and even clubs that she wouldn’t dare go to because the other dancers would find out about it. So there were more people like her, but she couldn’t possibly talk about it with people she knew. That is, until the day she went and slipped up.

The gig was hot— literally. The song she danced to was literally called Heat Wave. Rosalina danced in the background, but felt like she was in the middle of a whirlwind. Girls in crimson dresses with slits in the side, knife-sharp eyeliner, golden high heels...what did Rosalina expect to happen? One girl looked right at her, right in her eyes, and she didn’t know what to do with herself. It got to the point where someone noticed.

“Rosie, hey.” He was one of the guys, popping into her motel room after the show, probably to bum a cigarette. “How’d you feel up there, baby doll?” She looked up frantically from the magazine she was reading and that’s how it all, well...came out.

“Huh.” He looked at her inquisitively when she was done explaining. “I didn’t know women could do all that, too.”

“Uh-huh.” She looked down. “Listen, no one outside this room can hear about this. No one at all, you hear me? If my career ends because of you, you’re getting slugged.”

“Yea, yea I know. I won’t tell nobody, Rosie. You know me.” He shrugged. “You gotta keep it hidden, though. No one’s gonna understand this, especially not that girl. They’ll think something’s wrong with you.”

“Don’t I know it.” Rosalina sighed. “Thanks for keeping it a secret.”

“Don’t you worry, Rosie.” He flicked a cigarette at her and smiled. “No one else has to know you’re gay.”