[sup][h1][center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/5NBPcmGT/daisybannertyp3.jpg[/img][/center][/h1][/sup][indent][sub][COLOR=#9f6266][B]LOCATION[/B][color=2e2c2c].[/color][/COLOR] [I]new york city - marquee skydeck.[/I][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=#9f6266][b]012[/b][/COLOR][color=2e2c2c].[/color] [I]the pornstar[/I][/right][/sup][/indent][sub][hr][/sub][INDENT][sub][color=#9f6266][B]INTERACTIONS [/B][color=2e2c2c].[/color][/COLOR] [I]&&[/I][/sub][/indent]
[indent][indent][indent][justify][color=#808080]It was something of a marvelous struggle to leave an impression, to debut as a wonder, to herald feminine mystery and charm when half the world (for they were on top of the world, weren’t they) had seen your tits.[/color]

[color=#808080]But Daisy Black made it look so fucking easy. Those elevator doors yielded on a delicate chime, but it might as well have been rusted doors being shunted open with brute force, for suddenly there she was- [/color][i][color=#808080]the pornstar[/color][/i][color=#808080].[/color]

[color=#808080]Even as that collaborative din ebbed and flowed, the atmosphere hushed at her revelation, the cacophony falling away into its own dissonance, ringing hollow in her ears. Betwixt them lay an esoteric lament that sang her disparity, her muffled morality, the shorn and mutilated virtue of a woman that contemptuously brandished her sexuality as a given right. Forgone of the vanity, they mused, a rapturous sin that vandalized the sanctity of flesh when so lavishly given and palmed viciously by strangers bedecked only by mewled monikers of stage pseudonyms. But that was how it always went, didn’t it? These things occurred at such a predictable dichotomy between the prudish and the ravenous, those that prayed for the exposure of her soul and those that craved more of it, rapt with the incessant need to see more, should she cleave apart her ribs and expose her heart, would they then stop crying for her name into the darkened shame of their heaving bodies?[/color]

[color=#808080]Probably not.[/color]

[color=#808080]It was in these minute instances that Daisy paused, body refined and poised elegantly in the sequined mesh dress that contoured her figure. She had dropped the ivory capelet from her bare shoulders and took in the party with flickering sweeps of thickly clustered lashes that fanned over jeweled cheekbones, diamond clusters scattered amidst smudged blacks that adorned the beloved countenance that could curl one's name into a prayer the way she could arch her spine that cost a god damn fortune. Conversations lulled within the space created around the elevators, criticizing glances that swept back across her elongated physique once, then twice, recognition blooming heated scarlet in some, whilst splotching indignation through others. Daisy reveled in it, able to capture these glimpses, permitted to dissect human nature with a glistening eye whenever someone happened to look her way, and to know exactly who she was. What she was. [/color]

[color=#9f6266][i]That’s right, you nasty bitches.[/i][/color]

[color=#808080]Dexterous gestures shook out her mane of red hair, neon scattering amidst strands of scarlet to light the strands aflame that spilled across pale and supple shoulders before resettling down her spine, swept back by silver combs to accentuate the long line of her graceful neck. The ruched knot in her dress dragged panels of glittering skirts across a sliver of pale skin, a slit in the fabric exposing the entirety of her thigh as Daisy slid through the crowd and slithered through bodies, enmeshed with a contortionist's aptitude. She had missed the speeches and announcements with [/color][color=#808080][i]intention[/i][/color][color=#808080], because William Tremayne was bought in big with S&S (because, duh, why wouldn’t he be, the shit wrote itself) with her invitation prettily delivered in bouquets of roses that perfumed her vanity and trailer for weeks, the scarlet blooms crushed beneath a patent leather heel with its red-bottom scuffed to glorious hell despite Zachary’s placating tone that it was all just [/color][color=#808080][i]business[/i][/color][color=#808080]. Sure, it was. She had heard all of it before, the fundraisers, the grants, the charities. He was into it, Jonathan too, having wedged himself into the influential sphere of Trinity Houston just [/color][color=#808080][i]because. [/i][/color][color=#808080]Not that anyone truly liked him, as Erin muttered about ‘that Vale bastard’ and his smug, heavenly gifted face that once, woefully, attempted to make an honest woman out of Daisy. [/color]

[color=#808080]All those late nights piled crudely in the corner as dirty laundry littered with shards of glass, reflecting all the sinful envy he coveted. [/color]

[color=#808080]But she was here, and he wasn’t. None of them were; Trinity had declined, too busy, too proud, and far too detached from reality to pry away from her debauchery. Her endeavors were efficient, but her nature was obsessive, favoring morality as currency in the exchange of close-ups, pin-ups, and exotic scripts brimming with intemperance. Zachary was too busy, too busy to be her guardian for the evening, her chaperone, so to speak. Too busy to entertain her schedule and relations, too busy for the job given, and no one to shadow her whispering steps on a night usually requiring those looming figures. [/color]

[color=#808080]And Erin… Was bartending tonight, here, of all places, recruited by the caterer’s operations coordinator. One of many hired for these festivities, nestled against a satellite bar positioned out on the skydeck, all stainless steel polished to shine, lit up by lurid neon, the backdrop of the skyline framing her in resplendence, where Daisy Black finally found her, directed by their back-and-forth text messages that had distracted her plenty on the Uber ride here. A blessing, truly, for her driver kept trading glimpses through the rearview mirror as she snapped gum between her teeth, obnoxious and yet endearing, with bubblegum-pink bubbles blown out past her painted lips. [/color][i][color=#9f6266]Should’ve taken a Lyft.[/color][/i]

[color=#966c54]“Wow, hey, look at you.”[/color][color=#808080]Clad in her white button-up and black suspenders, the material nearly translucent to expose scraps of lace beneath, her pants just a size too small, and her feet in thick-soled Doc Martins, she was the subject of admiration and envy as Daisy twirled. Truly, she was as if a blanket of night descended and cloaked her in its refinement, pale skin as if the moon with its radiance contained within a mortal shell, and then alighted by flame. [/color]

[color=#9f6266]“You don’t even want to know how much this dress costs.” [/color]
[color=#966c54]“You’re only going to wear it for one night, too; that’s crazy work.”[/color]
[color=#9f6266]“I can always donate it,” [/color][color=#808080]Daisy brushed a stray lock of red behind her ear, revealing a trio of black studs pierced along the curve of her lobe. The gesture is a simple one, slumberous, unhurried, but her eyes, muddied shades of green and brown, flicker interoceptively through capes of accentuated lashes.[/color][color=#9f6266]“Seems to be the trend around here anyway.”[/color]

[color=#966c54]“You missed it; he totally acknowledged our hard work with a round of applause, too."[/color][color=#808080] Erin scoffed and tugged her phone from her back pocket, displaying the cracked OLED screen that spider-webbed from the corner where it had impacted concrete many drunken nights ago. The brief recording she had opted for in the moment immediately played through a tilted angle to glimpse through stilled bodies, the audio crisp in some instances and then muffled in others, with Erin’s voice crowding over the announcement with her chagrin.[/color][color=#966c54]“I was going to upload it later, such a load of shit, honestly. But at least the tips have been good, and I’m getting paid a stupid amount. I’ll cover next month’s rent.”[/color]

[color=#9f6266]“Erin, you don’t ever pay rent.”[/color]
[color=#966c54]“Just let me feel human, Daisy, it’s honest money that I don’t have to flash my ass for.”[/color]

[color=#9f6266]“Hey, this ass foots the entirety of our expenses, did you not watch my interview on The Tonight Show? My name is a top search on fucking Google.”[/color]

[color=#966c54]“Excuse me, your highness.”[/color][color=#808080]She mock-surrendered with palms up and eyes rolled high, before she wedged her phone back into her back pocket and retreated behind the bar, expertly spinning a rock’s glass in her hand and a tin shaker in the other.[/color][color=#966c54]“What’re you drinking? And if you say espresso martini, I will jump off this building. I ran out of my batched cold brew in the first hour, and the main bars have the espresso machines.” [/color]

[color=#808080]Daisy palmed her chest in a feigned wound and laughed with her trademark titter in the low, throaty, husky giggle that rasped through her lips, lashes sweeping low and casting shadows unbound across her visage.[/color]

[color=#9f6266]“I’ll take the filthiest martini you can make me then and an obscene amount of olives.”[/color]
[color=#966c54]“Gross. Vodka, right?”[/color]
[color=#9f6266]“You know me so well, babes.”[/color]

[color=#966c54]“You just missed Bobby Rifo, too,”[/color][color=#808080]She carried into casual conversation, tilting bottles upside down expertly before spinning them back down into the well station attached to the mobile bar. They fell with the thuds of glass and metal, muted by the music that leaked out this way, inspiring vibrations.[/color][color=#966c54]“Aren’t you a fan?”[/color]

[color=#9f6266]“What gave you that idea?”[/color][color=#808080]Daisy uttered. She had checked in her capelet at the door but kept the small leather clutch tucked beneath her right arm, from which she deftly pulled her cell, thumbing through messages with a quick, illuminated eye that spiraled into various notifications despite having set her mobile to ‘Do Not Disturb’ mode. Daisy wasn’t working, a rare night off where she didn’t have to study scripts or attend the gym, her regimen harsh and critical, her training never ending to maintain a svelte frame that shifted under the shimmering cover of her dress. In exchange for her drink, she dropped it back into her clutch before passing it over to Erin to receive the obnoxious amount of olives skewered and laid horizontally across the rim of the glass.[/color]

[color=#966c54]“I’ve heard his music play from your room.”[/color]

[color=#9f6266]“Trinity wants to branch out with soundtracks in certain specials. I was curious. Heard the name a couple of times.”[/color][color=#808080]She plucked the bamboo skewer and deftly curled her tongue, pulling olives past her lips with a satisfied[/color][color=#808080][i] ‘pop’.[/i][/color]

[i][color=#966c54]“Oh.”[/color][/i]

[color=#9f6266]“I’m not sure there’s a man alive to keep up a tempo quite like that.”[/color]
[color=#966c54]“Okay, thank you. I’m [/color][color=#966c54][i]working[/i][/color][color=#966c54] here.”[/color]
[color=#9f6266]“You asked.”[/color]
[color=#966c54]“You don’t always have to tell, Daisy.”[/color]

[color=#6a5acd]“You can always tell me.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Erin’s eyes snapped up first, quick and sharp, spearing through the coated lashes that framed them, the shadows cast malformed, then lifted, bisected by the colors of the night. Daisy was more casual, intentional, and unhurried, never rushed and always poised, and certainly, never taken off guard. Her head rolled slowly, her delicate neck curving into an arch as she gleaned and dissected the brunette who had approached them, unchecked and unchallenged, with Daisy dismantling everything about her in slow blinks that fluttered down and then up in excruciating increments of casual ease.[/color]

[color=#9f6266]“And who,”[/color] [color=#808080]to which she pulled more olives into her mouth, lips pursed, tongue slick against blanched teeth, time flickering away into muddled voices and music. [/color][color=#9f6266]“Are you?”[/color]

[color=#6a5acd]“Josie Tatl. [/color][i][color=#6a5acd]Tatl-Tales[/color][/i][color=#6a5acd].” [/color][color=#808080]There was something peculiarly antagonizing in Daisy’s countenance, a thin film worn over the breadth of her face, as a woman eternally filmed in all manners of undress and poise; every[/color][color=#808080][i]thing[/i][/color][color=#808080] about her was on a constant, public display, but in the ethereal luminescence of New York bedazzlement, she appeared unapproachable and detached. Different, in every sense of the word, dissociated from the mundane celebrities that crowded them and set apart by deliberate design, or perhaps unspoken hesitation that concerned peers to mind their associations standing next to such a performer. Josie shifted under her scrutiny, used to the punctuating silence that followed, whilst Daisy took a leisurely sip of her drink, the cloudy liquid drawing her gaze for just a moment, to surrender eye contact, the wordless spell severed betwixt them as Daisy finally blinked and allowed Josie a reprieve.[/color]

[color=#9f6266]“That’s cute. I like it.” [/color]

[color=#6a5acd]“Oh, thanks.” [/color][color=#808080]Slowly, she lifted the recorder, clutched within her palm, fingers twitching before they stilled, an invisible line, a barrier stationed between them. Something in Daisy’s impression warranted boundaries, perhaps from the tilt of her head or the way her blinks were timed and so quick and peerless, so in control were her functions. [/color][color=#6a5acd]“Do you have time to answer a few questions?”[/color]

[color=#9f6266]“I like your freckles too, you have about fifty-eight that I can [/color][i][color=#9f6266]see.” [/color][/i]
[color=#6a5acd]“Ms. Black-”[/color]
[color=#9f6266]“Call me [/color][color=#9f6266][i]Daisy.[/i][/color][color=#9f6266]”[/color]

[color=#6a5acd]“... Okay, Daisy.” [/color][color=#808080]Her thumb inched forward, depressing the button with a soft, barely audible click. The recorder in her grasp suddenly doubled in its weight, a pressing, eternally fixated thing that cast a line, the light a lure that dragged Daisy’s eyes down, then, like a feline lured by a laser pointer. She wasn’t going to allow this sudden oddity to prevent her from achieving what she came here to do; she had successfully intercepted and interviewed countless others, lured and championed by the varying levels of success and elusiveness, even with those less forthcoming. She was figuratively done with edging around the real inquiries she wanted to propose, the resolutions, the games, the skirting around the obvious. [/color][color=#6a5acd]“Let’s start with S&S Studio and the alleged disappearances of certain [/color][i][color=#6a5acd]stars[/color][/i][color=#6a5acd].”[/color]

[color=#808080]Josie inched closer, heels dragging, intentions whisper soft, the grip on her recorder flexes once, her palm aflame and her eyes wide, almost accusatory and conspiratorial in one fell swoop of her lashes. [/color][color=#6a5acd]“What do you have to say about that as their biggest one, with all of your success? That sudden appearance on The Tonight Show was so sudden, wouldn’t you say? I really enjoyed it, though. Very enlightening.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Something hissed and shifted across Daisy’s unwavering eyes, those careful and intentional blinks stalling, her eyelids peeling back, and diamond clusters flashing with garish light that shifted obliquely across her visage, shadows of night sky black and neon framing piercing eyes that gleamed a coiling, eerie green. [/color]

[color=#9f6266]“What did you say your name was again?”[/color]
[color=#6a5acd]“Josie… Tatl.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Daisy hummed, something soft and acknowledging, and those devilish features suddenly slithered into something with a visible, biting edge, gleaming teeth and glittering eyes, the martini in her hand lifted carefully, drawn to her mouth where she sips and pins Josie down with her eyes as an insect laid across a board, needled and helpless. Josie, though, wouldn’t back down, not from this. She had endured Bobby Rifo’s scathing remarks and [/color][color=#808080][i]Jag’[/i][/color][color=#808080]s disregardant nature; she had flitted around the hedged secrets of the likes of [/color][color=#808080][i]Cozy Rosie[/i][/color][color=#808080] and Hayden and tried to pick apart the influential likes of Scarlett Wren. Daisy Black? She was just a pornstar who couldn’t make it in the real movies and decided to star in her own defilement. [/color]

[color=#808080]Right? [/color]

[color=#6a5acd]“No comment? What about the things you [/color][color=#6a5acd][i]didn’t[/i][/color][color=#6a5acd] say on The Tonight Show, your own autonomy, morals? Any self-preservation left or what hasn’t been [/color][color=#6a5acd][i]used up.[/i][/color][color=#6a5acd] What happened to the girl from Texas? Are you just another statistic, lost amid the glitz and glam of stardom?” [/color][color=#808080]She pressed harder as Daisy inclined her head, just a smidge, a mere fraction that cascaded rippling waves of red over her bare shoulder. She continued taking languid, unhurried sips from her drink, unblinking, unwavering.[/color]
[color=#9f6266]“I really, really like your freckles, [/color][color=#9f6266][i]Josie[/i][/color][color=#9f6266].”[/color]

[color=#808080]Her thumb slid off the recorder, just a singular action that gnashed the stop button with a quiet click, a near misstep from the purring annotation of her name, but it cost her the precious second it took for Daisy’s freed hand to lash out, viperish speed unburdened and secured as a vice around Josie’s hand clutched around the damnable device in her hand.[/color]

[color=#6a5acd]“Ms. Black– [/color][color=#6a5acd][i]Daisy[/i][/color][color=#6a5acd], please let me go.”[/color]

[color=#9f6266]“Listen, for your sake, I’d stick to less… personal questions. Accusations. You never know who is actually listening.”[/color]
[color=#6a5acd]“I’m interested in truths, not conspiracies.”[/color]
[color=#9f6266]“The truth will set you free, is that it?”[/color]

[color=#808080]Carefully, slowly, Daisy relinquished her grip, extracting her fingers with a hesitancy that Josie could feel traveling up her arm in faint tremors, but were they her own, or transferred from the shuddering palm that finally plied away from her? As if the exchange had never occurred, Daisy slowly tipped her head back and lifted her glass to pour the remains of her drink down her throat, swallowing the contents with a finality that Josie understood that no more questions or answers would be extracted from their particular exchange. [/color]

[color=#6a5acd]“Thank you for your time, Daisy… Maybe another time we can chat without any potential listeners.”[/color]

[color=#808080]With a final nod and regard towards the empty glass manacled in Daisy’s grasp, Josie slid off into the crowd, and the bodies surged around her, severing that connection with an echoing silence that pinged hollow through Daisy’s head until she blinked, eyes shuttered, expression downcast till she opened them and observed the wavering and flickering scenes through her lashes. Blurred shapes undulated and writhed, disoriented and disconnected bodies and mounds of flesh that amassed before her, flung far to the fringes of misconstrued reality.[/color]

[color=#966c54]“Daisy.” [/color][color=#808080]Erin snapped her back, another martini in hand, quickly exchanged it for the empty glass in her hand, where her fingers had clutched so tightly they were splotched red and paled around the edges of her skin. [/color]

[color=#9f6266]“Right, thanks.”[/color]
[color=#966c54]“Want to tell me what that was all about?”[/color]
[color=#9f6266]“Just another reporter trying to figure out the whys behind what I do.”[/color]

[color=#966c54]“Daisy-”[/color][color=#808080]she began, because she understood, in her own way, she truly did, but whereas she had left that life behind, Daisy was still ensnared, and Trinity would never let her go as easily as she had allowed Erin to walk out those doors. [/color]

[color=#9f6266]“I’m going to dance.” [/color][color=#808080]She didn’t allow for any sympathy; she didn’t want it. [i]Didn’t fucking need it[/i]. Didn’t need a single apology or understanding shoulder to curb the weight of the life she had chosen to lead. Daisy chose to immerse herself in the dancing crowd and carved out a space for herself with brutal intent, the glittering skirts dragging around her legs, serving as a shield of shadowy voids as midnight drew ever closer.[/color]
[/justify][/indent][/indent][/indent]