Tuesday, 1 December 2015

Mood | Lover Girl

Chatter echoed off the walls of her dining room. Seated were 16 of her friends, laughing and discussing the events of last night's event: The British Fashion Awards. She watched them contentedly half listening,  half day dreaming. 
'Ivy, you looked like a million bucks on the red carpet. And fashion innovator of the year? You really couldn't have done it without me.' James exclaimed - hand on heart - grinning triumphantly.
'I would have been nothing without you James. You know you're the hottest makeup artist in London right now but I'll tell you anyway.' Ivy laughed. 
Adoration was the name of the game and she dashed it out like sprinkles on a cake - to whomever and whoever sought it out.
She was everybody's lover in one way or the other - keeping an eye on whose birthday was next, who had a promotion coming up and who needed a lift when life didn't play fair.

'Anyone for dessert?' Ivy stood up, lifting the white napkin from her pleated burgundy skirt, with which she wore a crisp white shirt, opaque tights and patent black ankle boots. Her hair was scraped into a neat bun and her face was bare.
'Coffee is good with me.' her assistant Sal said.
'You could do with a slice of red velvet.'
She couldn't. Sal was plump enough but Ivy didn't believe in worrying about things that simply didn't matter. It was Thanksgiving for God's sake.

Not often did people walk out of Ivy's life. Attached to the charisma, the charm. Her wicked smile and manic laugh, they found it hard to leave. Ivy had a knack for making people feel good. With Ivy, the world was not going to end and the moon would stay radiant, illuminating clouds of worry and doubt. She created a place in the corner of the minds of others that envisioned only good things to come. A place that shut off looming darkness.

A man made bubble full of only things that shine in the dark. 


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