Liza strutted down the catwalk. Her hips jerked from side to side. Heels snapped up and down behind her. Her face a mask of serenity. The spring fashion show meant neutral, as always, but with a hint of pleasantry. That’s how her manager put it: pleasantry. In the fall, it would be a hint of determination. In winter, fierceness. She liked winter.
As she made her way out into the crowd on an elevated stage, Liza couldn’t care less what her face exuded. Early that month, was she not voted top-model of the year?
She turned sharply at the end of the runway, making a ninety-degree turn onto one branch of the T-shaped stage. As she made the turn, her gaze caught the smooth, dark hair of that girl. Her next step faltered. Her elegant mask flickered for an instant.
The audience, even the ones right underneath her, probably didn’t notice, Liza thought. They were paying too much attention to her exposed legs. The short, black and white-striped skirt she wore billowed out at each swing of her hip. There was much to see from below.
Even so, an imperceptible unpleasantness crawled over Liza’s skin and settled on her face. Reaching the end, she turned and caught a glimpse of the girl again. Liza’s gaze lingered for a second longer than she would have liked. She inwardly groaned at the adoration that clearly marked the young girl’s round face.
Why did this young woman affect her this way? Liza had taken many partners during her short life. Sex, gender – didn’t matter. Only their position in the fashion echelon and how they might help Liza achieve her goals. Liza took on sexual partners as casually as putting on a pair of four inch heels. Did they make her look good? Fine – they would do…for now.
But this girl was different. Each night Liza walked, there she stood, staring at Liza like she were a goddess (rightly so). But many men and women did that. None had the power this girl had over Liza. The girl gawked from a spot mid-foreground in the audience. And the heat rose from Liza’s belly, discombobulating her stately poise.
How dare this woman do this to her!? Liza Brunk! The Liza Brunk!
Her steps quicken. Her breath rose. Lips parted. She clamped her mouth shut. It felt like the first time she had walked the stage.
Shoulders back! Steps in line. Lift your feet – you’re not an elephant! Lips closed. Pout!
Liza made it back to the T-intersection of the stage, placed her hands on her hips, and paused. One brief look into the audience, into that young girl’s face, and she turned.
Inelegantly, she jerked back. Horror threaten to etch Liza’s face, but her mask held. Pinwheeling her arms out for balance, she looked down at her foot. Her spike heel wedged firmly into a crack at the edge of the runway, she knew her mistake. She had miscalculated the distance.
The crowd held their collective breath as Liza Brucks’ long, slim body fell.
The air knocked out of her as she landed on something soft, but firm. She held her eyes shut against the pain that shot up her leg. A frown turned her lips and creased her smooth forehead as sounds of chaos erupted around her. Someone yelled, “Medic!” Another said, “Help her!” Others whispered things Liza knew were untrue. By her reckoning, her career had just started.
She cracked open her eyes and looked up into that young girl’s round face. The girl smiled and said, “Are you okay?” with a mid-western accent.
Those three simple words held all the love Liza had hoped they would.
617 word count
You may be asking yourself, why on earth would I write about a fashion model? I’m not too sure myself. Nor am I too sure about the lesbian love thing. I have nothing against it, but it never occurred to me to write about it until I wrote this piece. Go figure.
I can tell you where the model thing came from. As some of you may know, Tyra Banks just put out a new book – a fantasy book no less. I know, she’s got tons of fierceness behind her and lots of money, but if she can do it…so can I!
Thank you Scorp for providing the random word to focus on for this piece.
To all three of my regular readers, I’m curious, on a scale of 1 to 5, where would you put this story? Be honest…it’s the only way I will improve.
EDIT: You can rate this post instead of commenting (click on the title so that the post opens up as its own page, rating at bottom of post). That way, if you think I suck, you don’t have to say it to my face.
I look forward to my next challenge. Until then, tmso.