Ash allowed herself to be dragged down the corridor and into another boxy room with a costume rack in one corner and a mirrored dressing table on the far wall. There was a bed topped with crumpled sheets to the left and a side table stacked with magazines—the topmost of which featured a naked man with gleaming abs, lying on his side, leg bent to offer a convenient placement of his thigh. Ash turned away, cheeks burning and focussed on Amerie.
How had she let herself be dragged here? Somewhere along the line, she'd forgotten her resolve to walk away. Now, she was about to be dressed as a boy and trained for shisha duty, whatever that was.
Amerie sidled over to the costume rack in the corner and fingered a mauve satin shirt before tugging it from its hanger. She tossed it across the room, followed by an embroidered navy vest. "Put them on. Oh, and you'll need these." A pair of patent leather shoes and a set of elastic suspenders traced the same arc to land at Ash's feet.
Ash bent to pick up the suspenders and twisted them to and fro. Amerie watched her struggle before eliciting a loud sigh. "Give them here." She snatched them from Ash's grasp and began untangling them for her. Once this was done, she moved to unbutton Ash's top.
"I can do that." Ash stepped away.
Amerie rolled her eyes. "Touchy." And waited, arms crossed.
Ash hesitated, half expecting Amerie to look away. When she didn't, she had no choice but to begin undressing. She tried not to let her discomfort show. Amerie was the type of girl who'd probably love to see her squirm.
Amerie poked her stomach as she slipped the satin shirt over her head. "You don't have an ounce of fat on you. No wonder the Madame thought you were a boy."
Ash tugged the low V of her satin shirt away from her skin. She didn't like the way it gaped at the neck, or clung static to her chest. Amerie looked so comfortable in her satin dressing gown that Ash felt oafish next to her.
Amerie jerked Ash around and clipped the suspenders in place before stepping back to appraise her handiwork. "It'll have to do. You're only on shisha duty, so nobody's really going to be looking at you."
Ash took the opportunity to ask the question that had been on her mind since the Madame had mentioned it."What's shisha duty?"
Amerie's eyes widened. "You're joking, right?"
Ash wished she'd never asked.
"I bet you don't even know what the parade was for," Amerie sneered. "Or why it's so important that orphan scum like you think we care about your rights."
Ash didn't know how to reply. Nothing Amerie said made any sense.
Amerie grinned triumphantly. "Poor little orphan girl—"
She didn't get to finish her sentence. A beautiful brown-haired girl with big doe eyes peered around the door, gasping when she caught sigh of Ash. "Who's this?"
"New girl," Amerie said. "Just arrived then."
"Another one?"
Amerie rolled her eyes. "Yeah."
The doe-eyed girl shook her head. "Tonight's going to be a disaster, with all these newbies on the floor."
"Tell the Madame that. She's out of her mind."
They both nodded and hummed. Another head poked around the door. This time, it was a strawberry blonde with porcelain skin that looked like it would bruise at the slightest touch. "Who's this?"
More girls crowded in, pushing and shoving each other for a better look.
"Why's she dressed like a boy?"
"She's not very pretty."
Ash wrapped her arms around her body, tucking her hands under her armpits. She'd never seen so many beautiful girls in one place before. All her life, she'd worn her scars and bruises like badges of honour. Now, she was hyper aware of each mark on her skin, the dirt embedded in her nails, the smell of her armpits. It didn't matter that girls like this would've been eaten alive at the orphanage. Here, in the Central Commercial District, so far from the Outer Band, they were the ones doing the eating.
Amerie sat down at her dressing table with a wistful smile on her face, taking pleasure in Ash's discomfort. She brushed and braided her long wavy hair, stroodled it atop her head in one practiced motion and pinned it down with butterfly clips. She powdered her cheeks in a sunset and lined her eyes with coal. When she was done, she looked like she'd rolled out of a magical forest and covered herself in pixie dust. Her skin sparkled, her braided hair caught the dim light, and her eyes stood out against the dark eyeliner like gemstones. She stood and walked towards the gaggle of girls. "That's enough gawking. We have a show to prepare for."
The gaggle went silent and shuffled into the corridor, scattering left and right towards their own dressing rooms. Amerie made to follow them out. Ash tapped her on the shoulder. "Aren't you supposed to train me?"
Amerie smirked. "Doesn't take a genius to figure it out how to change coals and tobacco on the shisha pipes. Even you should be able to handle that." She flicked her hand at Ash. "Good luck." She disappeared into the dark corridor.
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*~*
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Phoenix
FantasyOrphan Ashalia sleeps with her eyes open, walks with her back to the dormitory walls and never lets the other kids see her fears. In a world powered by greed, every moment could be her last. She also has a secret. An ability so powerful that if the...