I'll Be {Crash's Intro} Your Mirror {OPEN}

I have my silver hair pulled up in a fancy topknot of a hundred skinny braids, and I am beautifully dressed in a floating kimono-like concoction in panels of pearly blue highlighted with magenta and sparkling crystal. I took a deep breath, not so easy with the underlying corsetry providing me some shape, and exited the family car, telling the driver I would call when I wanted picked up. As soon as I step out of the vehicle, I am hit by a throb of bass and sound emanating from the exclusive nightclub.

I look at the long line outside the place, and the people waiting in it, with a slight momentary pity, and then I blithely stroll to the front of that line. A nice benefit of my growing celebrity is that the bouncers don't question this, and merely step aside, allowing me to pass with a "Welcome to the Inferno," as I enter. I glance around, trying to spot someone I know, but the place is damned crowded with fantastically dressed and coiffed creatures like myself, and I can't see any familiar faces, my friends. I use the term loosely, quite aware that any of my acquaintances would cheerfully slit my throat if it allowed them to rise one step higher on the ladder of society. I don't care - I'd do the same to them. That's how the game is played.

Pushing my way through the throng, I head for the long and florescently lit bar. I order a drink, one of my favorites, it's particularly nice since it lets you see things a bit differently, feel a bit detached, and therefore is great for soothing nerves. On the way I'm stopped by a young man and woman, obviously a couple, who scream to tell me that they saw me play at a party last week and how I was wonderful. Nothing I didn't already know, but I smiled sweetly and was gracious.

Finally, I reach the bar, and eventually a tender comes to take my order; during the transaction I spot a familiar face, and then another, and when my drink comes I down it quickly, order another, and make my way over to my friends. We greet as best we can given the decibels in here, and I spend the next several hours yelling gossip in ears and having the same done to me. I love hearing the dirt on other people, even if half the time it isn't even true. I have a few more drinks, and I am very relaxed, possibly to the point of making an accidental faux pas, so I make my dramatic farewells to excuse myself and head for the door.

I should call for the car, but I feel like walking; despite having 4" heels my boots are surprisingly comfortable, and I only live a half dozen blocks from here. Besides, maybe I'll stop in at a cafe on the way home. I am flying, and I feel free now that there is no one directly watching me, well, no more so than everyone watches everyone else, here.

-----------------------
((OOC: Open to anyone, really, a friend of Crash's, a fan, a stalker, a potential love interest, or anything else...))