Dance Till I Die (gxg) ✓

"Bright Like A Diamond"

                    Mavis had noticed the woman the moment she had walked in.

                    There was a word for girls like her―tall, slender, with ice-blue eyes and hair like pale gold. A knockout blonde. 

                    Mavis always stayed ten feet away from blondes at all times. She had a rule: All blondes are bitches. In third grade, a girl named Emilie had snipped off a lock of her hair with scissors. And made a necklace out of it. In seventh grade, Juliet from her English class had sat behind her during tests and copied, word for word, everything Mavis had written. Guess who got in trouble? It wasn't the rich white girl. In ninth grade, Juliet Collins had kissed her under the bleachers, and later told everybody Mavis was a dyke.

                     One thing they all had in common? They were blonde. 

                     So when the woman, however gorgeous she was, walked in? Mavis had looked away. All she had to do was think of the shame that had accompanied the word Mavis is a big dyke for years after ninth grade, and she could lose herself in the music again.

                     When she stepped down from the stage, she thought it was over. She had seen the blonde talking to Desire, one of her closest friends here, and figured that was it.

                     But then the blonde had walked over.

                     And from up close . . . she was . . . she was . . . I hate blondes, Mavis had to remind herself.

                     The woman smelled like vanilla.

                      It was such an odd scent. Something so sweet, so soft, for a woman who with that stone-cold expression, those unfeeling blue eyes.

                      If there was one thing Mavis knew, it was that she loved scent. Fragrances. Her favourites were strawberry, coconut . . . and vanilla.

                      Oh, Jesus, she thought. Her cardinal rule was: Stay far away from blondes. 

                      But she thought of Isla, waiting for her at home. Was she asleep by now? Probably. Was the babysitter still there? Fuck. She had forgotten to pay the babysitter.

                      She needed money. She couldn't turn down a client.

                      "Hello, beautiful," Mavis said, doing her best to pull herself together. "What can I do for you?"

                       The woman's ice-blue eyes widened. Her skin was so pale, so perfect. For a moment, Mavis doubted she was real―she looked like the incarnate of Aphrodite, the female embodiment of Adonis. She was sharp lines and silvery colour. 

                       Mavis expected some kind of flattery. Men always said something like, You've got the best tits I've ever seen. What if I took you to a special room, free of charge? That mouth is beautiful, you should smile more. I'd love to see your lips around my―

                        "I was ordered to kill you."

                        Mavis wasn't expecting that. She only laughed. "Who paid you? Ruby? That's a bit of overkill, don't you think? She took it a little over the top, I think . . . Ruby!" 

                        Ruby glanced up from the other side of the bar, but before she could call her over, Mavis saw the gun.

                        The colour drained from her face.