Nicole could distinctively make out the intonations of her heartbeat. It was no smooth asphalt, nor was it pleasing in any way. It was entirely the opposite of it. She imagined a rugged chassis and deep-rooted crevices upon a rocky road. A dangerous road trip. She feared that her heart might give out. Her legs already were a noodly pair, holding onto her dress for support.

It was clear that Nicole's mind was a soiled pool of water. It just wasn't functional anymore. Jane Austen would be disappointed and so would her mother. Nicole was never the forward type of woman. She always thought herself as demure as a sun's glow right before the full onset of night. Her wanton behaviour today was a surprise on her side and she more than willingly blamed it on the cheery night and maybe on the way Wayne's minty breath hit her exposed clavicle like one inclement wind upon feeble branches of a tree.

Nicole's lips quivered as she inched closer and closer, until she almost grazed Wayne on his lower plump lip, but then astonishingly, Wayne stirred, taking a step back. "Am sorry I can't do this, we can't do this," Wayne whispered.

Nicole could barely hear him out over the loud ache that was now digging its claws onto her chest. It was as though stones were being hurled at her. She whimpered, taking several steps back until her back hit the wall behind her.

Nicole's eyes were lost on Wayne, trying to figure out why'd rejected her but Wayne could barely meet her wild gaze. His eyes were fixed on the ground, his shoulder blades slumped down his body. Nicole was well aware of the emotions wicking out of Wayne, she had seen it before with her father when she'd decided to change her career path to writing. Except this time round, the throb was twice as afflicting and poignant as before. Wayne had rejected her. Nothing could beat that.

The tiny room suddenly grew excessively hot and stuffy for Nicole. Her lungs complained, twitching in distress. She was breathless, beads of sweat tearing down her stomach into palpable splits.

Nicole wanted to run away from the room, away from Wayne and away from anything else that reminded her of him. Damn the stupid show. Her pride was after all, severely wounded, hewn to a snag. There was no way she would walk down the runway stretching forth a smile when in reality a loaded gun was tattering her insides.

Nicole was at the door, her hand aiming for the door knob when suddenly the door charged open. A team of four stood at the other side of the door, two young women dressed in tinsel dresses, a short stout man and an ebullient Felix.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting," Felix spoke, strutting past Nicole towards the vanity area. "Honestly, Lucas is to be blamed, the guy keeps bugging our crew like we a bunch of terrorists."

The other three streamed in after Felix, their steps hurried and squeaky against the floorboard, a disturbing sound to the eaves.

"Nicole, would you mind?"

It took Nicole a second to realize what Felix was saying. "What? Sorry but no. Well at least not in front of all of you."

Nicole couldn't tell if Felix had taken a miff at her response or not. The guy could as well as have a good cry and no one would suspect or know about it. "There is nothing we haven't seen. We dress up naked models all the time. So come on, get to it." Felix was pointing to Nicole's dress, his other hand holding carefully a white ankara gown.

Nicole was tempted to tell Felix that she was no model and he or rather they, had seen nothing of her. But instead, she decided a lasso to her tongue. Today, her dignity could do some more bruising, it was after all, already cindered. Nicole casted her eyes towards where Wayne stood watching her, his expression wan. "Could I not do it in front of him?"

"Well..I don't_" Felix was a stuttering mess before Wayne cut him off.

"I will be waiting on the other side," Wayne spoke, more to Nicole than to the others. His eyes were locked on her the entire time he spoke and as he rared his back from the wall, walking towards the door, Nicole was afraid he would bump into her. But instead, his hand only brushed against hers, demurring a second longer before he left the room, his loud footsteps resonating through the walls.

Her hand, where Wayne's callused fingers had ostensibly lingered, was melting with intense fervor. She felt the heat creep to her face, drawing a vibrant red and blurring her eyes with shimmering mist. Nicole hated herself, hated the way her heart wished him around even when he'd just stung a sword right through it. She was stupid, no, love was stupid, irrational, a trickery in play and she a willing audience.

As Nicole continued to dance to the tunes of Felix's commands, she realized not even one great pair of heel would make the night any more bearable.