Phenomenal

7~ Try

"You look fine, Class, just get going or you'll be late," Charlotte called from the kitchen, frowning at Clarissa who stood in front of the mirror in the hall, touching up her hair, adjusting pins so the waterfall of red hair fell where it was meant to - it would, of course, be blown out of place as soon as she left the flat but she could at least try.

Clarissa just adjusted the straps of her dress in answer to Charlotte.

Though the straps were there more for show them anything else.

The dress was mainly designed to show skin.

With plunging neck, backless back and high side slit, it was too exposed for Clarissa's comfort. Heck, the only reason it stayed up and in place was because of carefully placed tape. She liked to show a bit of skin, but she had always felt this particular dress was too much. Left nothing much to the imagination.

But Brett had bought the dress for her and he always got upset if she refused to wear it.

"One day this is going to fall down in public," Clarissa said.

"And you'll be all over Heat Magazine," Charlotte said and Clarissa glared at her. "I'm teasing, girlie. Really, you're fine. I stuck so much tape on that thing you'll have to wrestle it off when you come home tonight - assuming you come home tonight. Unless you bring Brett back here, again."

"And give you a chance to bite his head off three times in one week?" Clarissa asked.

"I was perfectly civil when he came out of your room yesterday morning," Charlotte said, sticking her nose in the air.

"Adam said you put salt in his tea and he had to remake it."

"He told you that?!"

"Childhood friend VS girlfriend, it's tough choosing who to be loyal to," Clarissa said with a grin, picking up her clutch and swinging a sheer shawl over her shoulders.

"The traitor!"

"See you laaaater."

"Byeeee."

Clarissa closed the door behind her just as the next door opened. She looked around as Damien stepped out, dressed in tracksuit again but this time with a gym bag over his shoulder rather then Deacon by his side.

He looked up when he turned around and stopped, staring at her.

"Wow."

The breath escaped him before he even noticed he was saying it and he actually flushed. Clarissa smiled slightly, looking down. There was something very sweet about seeing a guy as intense-looking at Damien getting flustered.

"Sorry, evening, Clarissa," he said, hiking his bag further up his shoulder.

"Evening, Damien. You're heading out?"

"Ah, yeah, evening work," Damien said, falling into step beside her as they made their way towards the lift.

"Working so late?"

"Yeah it's..." Damien frowned as he tried to think how to describe it, "Well, I work in a gym. We hold night classes."

"Oh!" Clarissa said, "So that's how you're involved with sports."

"Yeah," Damien said, holding the lift door for her then stepping in.

Silence fell as the doors slid down and the lift started its short trip down.

"So... this charity event... clearly a big deal."

"Yeah, it's a children's charity. All the benefactors are attending, hence why I'm in this get-up."

"You don't like that dress, do you."

It wasn't even a question and Clarissa looked up. Damien was looking at the numbers above the doors as they reached the ground floor and he stepped back to allow her out first.

"Um, no, I like it," she lied, looking back at him, slowing for him to catch up.

"Uh huh," he muttered, still not looking at her.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said, pulling the reception door open for her.

"Really? Nothing?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Really really."

"Really really really?"

A smile caught the corner of Damien's mouth and he looked down at her out of the corner of his eye. "Really really really," he repeated.

"Do you think the dress looks bad?' she asked as he pushed the front door open and he stopped and looked back at her.

He was silent for a moment, his eyes slowly travelling down, taking in the full impact of the slinky black number and Clarissa folded her arms over herself.

"No," he said, "I think you look gorgeous. However, I think you'd look even better if you actually looked comfortable wearing such an outfit."

Clarissa dropped her arms and Damien stepped through the door, holding it open for her to follow.

"I'm perfectly comfortable," she snapped.

"Alright," Damien said, not meeting her eye again.

"Clarissa!"

Both of them looked around to see Brett stepping out of his car, giving Damien an irritated look as he came around onto the pavement.

"I thought I said to avoid these guys."

"That's kind of hard when we live next door to each other," Clarissa said, frowning at him, folding her arms again and Brett ignored her, glaring at Damien.

Damien just looked back, his expression cool, sunset catching in his eyes.

"Goodnight, Clarissa," he finally said after a long silence, before adjusting the bag on his shoulder, turning and walking away without a backwards glance.

"I don't like him, Clarissa, I really don't like him," Brett said once he was out of earshot.

"It's just general conversation while waiting for the lift, Brett, stop acting so wound up," Clarissa said, walking past him to the car, not waiting for him to open the door for her, sliding in and shutting the door.

She didn't like that Damien had picked up on her dislike of the dress instantly. Of course, he had overheard her conversation on the phone that evening. It wasn't a leap for him to put two and two together and assume she was talking about a black dress.

Especially if her body language said she didn't like it.

She'd have to change that. Even if she was uncomfortable, she couldn't look it. Brett would hate that and she should be good at hiding what she thought in social situations by now.

~~~~~~

Next Up: Tomorrow (Stand-by for Schedule Updates Changes)

Art/Music by: Try by Colbie Caillat