𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖋𝖆𝖍

I woke up naked with a great urge to make bacon on my tongue.

Rolling out of bed, I snatched up the ruined sheets from the night before and tossed them into my hamper, kicking the edge of some of the sheets that had spilt over a bit. I need to get down to doing my laundry sometime today. 

After pulling on some cotton shorts and one of Cher's old shirts, I made my way to my kitchen, where I threw a pan onto the gas stove and put a frozen packet of bacon in the sink to thaw. When I returned to the fridge, I frowned, realising the cinnamon rolls I'd bought were finished, but the packet was still in the fridge.

I do not remember eating that.

I tried to brush it off and threw away the empty packet, grabbing a glass so I could pour some mango juice into it. My mind relaxed as I began to hum softly to myself, waiting for the juice to rise to the rim of the glass.

"Your dad was really hot."

The glass slipped from my fingers and scattered in pieces across the floor as my hand flew to my chest to calm my racing heart whilst I turned to face the owner of the voice. I recognized her as the girl I'd slept with a few hours ago, which confused me, "What are you still doing here?" I asked her honestly, hoping she could hear how shocked I was.

"You were asleep for so long," she tried to explain, "I woke up and kinda raided your fridge- I hope that's okay." My eyes fell to what was in her hands, it was a framed portrait of my parents and she was holding it to her chest like it was hers.

"And where did you get that from?" I snapped, slamming the fridge closed before striding over to her to snatch it clean out of her hands. She followed me into the next room as I slammed the frame in the corner I'd left it, upside down where I wasn't able to see the picture it was protecting.

"Did a little snooping I'm sorry about that too," she winced, before gesturing to our surroundings, "You just have a really cool apartment-it looks a lot different in the daytime, it's your parents' right? I mean, most of this stuff is collectables and I'm pretty sure you didn't get them all so?"

I blinked at her, "Why are you still here?" I asked again.

Embarrassment washed over her features, and she swallowed, clearly realizing she was not wanted here. I watched her with a raised eyebrow as she began to grab her things, making sure she was only grabbing her things. "You weren't even that good anyway," I heard her mutter under her breath, which amused me.

"Sorry I didn't catch that," I snickered, walking back into my kitchen whilst making sure to tiptoe over the broken glass.

"I said you were a shitty lay," she repeated through gritted teeth. I tilted my head at her and approached her. She seemed surprised when I didn't stop walking and even took a step back, but ultimately held her ground until we were so close our noses were touching.

"Was I?" I asked, leaning in closer until her breath fanned my face. Instinctively, her eyes fluttered shut, and she began to lean into me, but I pulled away just as our lips were about to meet. "The code for the elevator is three two one six."

I made my way to the kitchen island, pulling myself up to settle on it. "I'll call the security guard so he doesn't tazer you on your way out," I laughed, reaching out to grab my phone, "I never got your name?"

My limbs dropped as Madame Dubois' counting finally came to a close. I didn't even bother hiding the ache in my joints, so I sank to the floor and panted whilst facing the hardwood. "Miss Versailles?"

I put my hand out to stop her before she could speak, "I hand you the cash equivalent of a small car every month end, you can give me a second to breathe," I insisted before going back to fighting for my life.

"Actually, your terrible breath control is not what I wanted to talk about."

I pulled my head out from between my legs and wiped the sweat from my brows before looking up at her. She stood above me with an expression that wasn't kind but definitely softer than how I was used to her looking at me. "I'm not sure if you've done it to spite me or you've been finally actually listening to the words I say," she sniffed. "But there is no doubt you have improved."

I tried my hardest to stop myself from replying that it was the wonders of lesbian sex that had done it to me, instead, I waited for her to get to the point. "I need a dancer for my Christmas show."

A laugh bubbled up my throat, "Oh, one of the girls must've died, huh?" I shook my head putting it back to rest on my knees, still giggling a little "No in fact it must be a fate worse than death because I'm pretty sure you'd still force the grim reaper to allow them to do your show."

"This is not a handout because one of my girls pulled out," she huffed, "If I were desperately in need of a dancer I would just hire one from another company-

"I wish you happy picking for your next slave then," I told her earnestly before finally getting on my feet, wincing at the dull ache still present in my joints as I stretched my arms out.

"What I'm trying to say is," she said, stopping me from leaving, "I am asking because I want you, not because I need you."

I stared at her suspiciously. "My tattoos will stand out on stage," I reminded her, gesturing to my inked legs, which shone through my pale pink tights.

She didn't seem fazed, "I'm sure you can find a," She snapped her fingers as she tried to find the words, "Concealer."

I tilted my head, "You made the final pick for the cast two weeks ago, I'm behind on the choreography," I pointed out."

"Well, I didn't offer you this because I thought it was going to be easy," She turned on her heel and began waddling towards her office, her robes sweeping the floor behind her feet. With her final confirmation that this was real, I allowed myself to be swept up in excitement, jumping up and down and squealing as silently as I could without her hearing me.

"Miss Versailles?"

I straightened up immediately and put my arms behind my back, hoping she hadn't seen my little celebratory dance. "Yes?" I said as seriously as I could, fighting back a little smile.

"And what are we going to do about," she pointed at the top of my head, "The hair?"

My hand shot out to touch the braids, cursing internally when I remembered the rebellious colour I'd attached to my head. "Oh, of course, I will be," I winced, patting down the strands, "Undoing these and maybe putting in a simpler colour, something a bit more natural."

Her mouth settled into a deep frown, "If you don't mind me requesting," she rested her pruned hands atop the large stick she carried everywhere, "It would be nice to see the natural hair you always keep covered up."

I blinked at her, "You want me to wear my afro?"

"Just a thought," she shrugged, turning back around, "After all, I was a blonde once too."

My head snapped to the mirror as soon as her door slammed shut behind her, I frowned at what was staring back at me. I hadn't even glanced at my natural hair in almost three years. I would go to the salon and keep my head down until they were finished, then pay and leave.

I genuinely had no clue what I looked like as a blonde and I had always been pretty sure that I would never find out. Even when it became the colour growing from my roots.

Ignoring the new weight on my chest, I decided to celebrate the good news instead, rushing to the changing rooms with a pep in my step at the thought that I would actually get a chance to be in the Christmas Show. An idea that I'd accepted a long time ago was just not a possible reality for me.

The buzzing of my happiness was cut short when I swung open the door to the changing rooms only to see people huddled around Stasi, whose sobs filled the room. When I entered, her baby blue eyes immediately turned to me, filled with tears, before her expression sunk into pure anger and she was grabbing her stuff.

I faced forward as she stormed out the room, slamming into me as she made her way out, which I pretended didn't hurt, but she had really sharp shoulders and genuinely almost tore off my arm.  The rest of the room stared at me, I raised an eyebrow, waiting for one to speak up and tell me what was wrong but when they didn't, I shrugged and made my way to my locker.

I'd been dealing with a lot of girl drama recently. Too much, considering I was very single.

Stasi was cute, and I did think we had something, but there was no God in the sky that was going to make me talk to her after she stood me up. I'd never asked anyone out before and the first time I did, she didn't show up? Yeah, I wouldn't be making the same mistake twice.

This is why I did no strings attached. No expectations, no feelings and the most important part: no letting me down. Stasi, on the other hand, seemed to have been taking us not talking a lot harder than I was, she'd transferred from group classes to private lessons and would completely change direction if there was the slightest chance she suspected I was walking her way.

Did I think she was being dramatic? Just a bit, but if anything I found the extent she was going to, to stay away from me cute. Unnecessary considering I'd never chased anyone before and didn't intend to start now, but cute, nonetheless.

Settling on the bench in front of my locker, I began to unwrap my feet, happy that for once it didn't feel like I'd finished running across the entire country. I stuffed my headphones in my ears to drown out the hushed whispers coming from the other side of the locker room and bopped my head to the music as I shot a text off to my salon asking for an emergency slot for tomorrow.

I sighed, thinking about all the hair products I'd have to buy if I intended to keep my hair out long enough for the show, which meant I'd also have to get brushes and stronger hair ties. It was a headache just waiting to happen.

When I was packing my stuff, my journal managed to slip from my locker, making it land on the floor in an awkward angle. I picked it up and smoothened the folds from the page it landed on with my fingers before snorting at the contents.

It was a small entry from back when Cher had just been announced as the next person to receive the blessing. She was super nervous about the whole thing, so I went behind her back to do a little background research on the past people who'd been blessed and found out that the previous girl had posted videos of her experience and how it was.

She had died the youngest.

Sunisa Taing was a blessing given to the world, which is how most described her. She'd been granted a blessing that allowed her a particular touch with nature that no one else had. She used it to reverse droughts in some places and even helped bring the world a step closer to solving global starvation.

She was murdered in her hotel room the morning she was meant to receive her Nobel Peace Prize.

Despite her unfortunate end, her influence was still seen in today's world and she'd even had a statue built for her in her home country. I had planned to watch all her videos and even see what she used to post about on her blog, give me a bit of an idea of what Cher had to expect.

Obviously, I never got around to my research considering I almost died, but I should probably take a look at it now. Maybe it would help me stop feeling so crazy.

But I had no idea how far the Gods were willing to go to drive a person to the brink of madness.