Statuette - Part 01 (Patreon)

Striding along the wall, the temperature fell. Sighing contentedly Mira stretched her arms, delighting in the light glinting off the sequins in her dress. The thick haze of the Streamer Awards crowd, a heavy murmur, the taste of salt and perfume, fading away into the background as she made her way towards the bathroom. 

A man stepped out from the shadows, familiar scar sliding down off his eye as Mira smiled. “Out in a sec hon. Entrée looks good!” Waving him off, she thumbed her right hand into the Ladies room. “Out in a second.” 

Warin shrugged, striding over to the wall and leaning against it. His eyes scanning the wide corridor, despite the lean he was coiled like a spring. Tracing her fingers along his chest, she slipped around the corner and into the washroom. Bright red paint coated the walls, melding seamlessly with the ornate marble and granite fixtures. Heavily lacquered wood made up the soffit and stall doors. The attendant disappeared around the corner; an empty linen basket clutched in one hand as she entered a storage closet. 

Pausing by a sink, she looked at her reflection. The stylist had done an amazing job; the extensions matched her hair colour perfectly, clipped into place by invisible fasteners. Her makeup was ethereal, present yet understated. At least for an event like this. Even the light catching in the bits of shell, glass, metal, and plastic in the gown they’d selected left her speechless. 

Running her hands along the bits and bobs sewn into the thick cotton, she took a deep breath. The sound of the acrylic in her nails stabbed her ear drums as she felt the cold pit in her stomach sink lower and lower. For a moment, she thought she saw Maisie in the corner of her vision. Her green eyes darted to the stalls as she leaned into the large mirror, gently tugging at thin tubes of mascara that had slipped free and onto her cheeks. 

For a moment, she wanted the stall doors to fling open. For Jenna, Nicole, Maisie, even Iva to stride out and give her a hug. Memories of their agency home, nights streaming some stupid game or crafting cosplay danced along her mind. Warm memories dissolving away, leaving only her own reflection staring back at her. Shaking her head, Mira smiled. 

“Hard as it was…” She whispered. “…all worth it. I made it.”