Lenora

“There’s a message from Wallace for you,” Hugo announces.

Delete it, I send, mind elsewhere.

My knee-length dress is covered with tiny, overlapping mirrors, flashing like silver scales, and I twirl, enjoying its weight against my body. I lean closer to the mirror to reapply my lipstick, coppery red to match my hair.

My fans approve. “You guys are stars!” I say aloud for their benefit.

“Are you sure?” Hugo frowns. He’s disappointed with me, which is irksome, as he disliked me spending time with Wallace in the first place. “What harm is there to listen to it?”

Block any threads that mention him, too. Now come on. I’d rather avoid being late.

A message pops up to inform me the private motor-carriage has arrived. Excitement bubbles up inside me and I grin, knowing that I, so new on the scene, have been invited to a private dinner party hosted by MsDanikaStarburst herself. The woman had cheerfully informed me my new co-star would be in attendance as well.

Maybe Torin Hunt will Friend me. I nip that thought in the bud in case it leaks. It’s far too soon, and there’s little chance I’ll extend a Friend request just yet.

Everything’s happening so quickly! The massive contract I signed two days ago with the biggest entertainment studio in the station, the call from MsDanikaStarburst this afternoon for an exclusive party, and everything that happened to Wallace. I refuse to think about him, afraid to learn what actually happened, as if knowing will cause the same to happen to me. And there’s all the craziness from yesterday! Meeting Bryn and her friend, and reading that book full of lies and half-truths. It’s best left alone and forgotten.

“Do you think Torin will kiss me tonight?” I ask my fans.

“Nora,” Hugo huffs. “Stop ignoring me!” He trails behind me down the hallway, stepping through the boxes full of Mother’s art projects stacked along the wall. By the end of the week we’ll be living on Level Two. The house has been extra clingy since we were allocated a new one, and it’s even been using my first name, as though that’ll make me stay.

“Lenora, would you like a snack before you go?” The house asks hopefully.

“It’s alright. I’ll be eating soon,” I say and disappointment radiates from the walls.

“Lenora?” Mother calls from the sitting room, and I sigh as the waiting motor-carriage sends me another ping. “You’re not going to say goodbye?”

“Mother, I have to go. The motor-carriage is waiting.” I open the door and, indeed, there it is. I can see a dark shadow in the front seat tapping long fingers against the wheel.

“So, it can keep waiting,” Mother says, stepping into the hallway.

“For sky’s sake, woman. She hasn’t got time for this!” Father snaps from the other room. I can imagine him sitting in his favourite armchair with a tablet on his lap and his feet up on the coffee table. He sounds more tense than usual and I shoot a look at Hugo. He shrugs.

“I just want to see her,” Mother says waspishly. “The dress is last minute from a new tailor from Level Eight and it needs to be perfect.”

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“The dress is beautiful.” I give a little spin to please her. “Although I do need to go.” I step out, tuning out Father’s raised voice and the house’s meek goodbye, leaving the heavy tension behind me.

The driver is holding the door open for me, one arm behind his back and his cap tilted low over his modes. Did he hear the fuss? His face is a study of politeness, yet who knows what he’s sharing.

“Thank you,” I murmur and settle into the motor-carriage.

Do you think Father has been acting strange? I ask Hugo, keeping my eyes on the houses we pass.

“Maybe it has something to do with those Evictions?”

They’re just rumours, Hugo. He probably has one of those tension headaches he suffers from sometimes.

“Yeah, maybe,” Hugo sighs and picks at the seat cover. “And about Wallace …”

What about him?

“I thought you were friends.”

We’d been more than friends. We’d been each other’s confidant. I miss his laugh, his jokes, and most of all how he understood the careful game we played. Or at least I thought he had. What did he do? My chest aches, yet I push away the guilt for not being there when he needed me. Everything happened so quickly. One moment you can be a rising star, and the next you’re plummeting. Wallace fell like a concrete rock.

That was yesterday. Our ride is pulling up in front of the private lifts in the Core. I can’t afford to be distracted right now.

Hugo’s quiet as the driver escorts me inside, using his palm to unlock it before ushering me in. I’ve unlimited access to all levels now. I admire my reflection in the floor to ceiling mirrors. There are thousands of me, reflecting off my dress, and I sway slightly, enjoying the way the driver swallows hard. I hope he’s live streaming me.

When we reach Level One, the driver gives me a bow and gestures to precede him from the lift. I give him a slightly-bashful-yet-pleased smile and his neck flushes red. He leads me to another motor-carriage, shinier and sleeker than the one left on Level Three, for the short trip to the restaurant MsDanikaStarburst has booked for the evening.

The restaurant is called The Mousai, a sprawling complex made up of gardens and patios beneath a night sky, neon-lights twinkling like stars. Candles flicker on tables, casting a blanket of warmth over the world, while offering pockets of dark privacy.

The driver opens my door and I take a breath, enjoying the smell of jasmine blossoms, before swinging my legs out, planting my stilettoes on the carpeted walkway and standing.

Miss Rey! Over here! Miss Rey!

Who made your dress?

Are you dating Torin Hunt?

How do you feel about overcrowding on the lower levels?

A moment of your time, please …

If you wouldn’t mind…

Over here, Miss Rey! Over here!

People flock, dozens of pings swarming like bees. Hugo does his best to clear the air and I thank my driver before heading towards the manager behind his little podium.

“Good evening, Miss Rey. Please, if you would follow me,” he charms and it’s thrilling, gliding past familiar faces that, up until then, I’ve only seen in films or on stage. Even the Guardian has made an appearance, if only as a hologram. He holds court at the bar, jacket weighted down by his medals. His uncovered eyes assess me coolly and I curtsey, feeling shaky as if he’s judging me down to my bones. He finally nods back and when he turns away, it’s as if I’ve been released from a spell.

Having garnered the Guardian’s attention, suddenly everyone else notices me too. My dress catches the eye and, like a sun, people gravitate around me. My smile is a perfect balance of modesty and confidence.

MsDanikaStarburst greets me like a queen, her lips curved in a satisfied smile as she looks me up and down, her turbaned head, decorated with black, silk feathers, bobbing regally. I bow accordingly.

“Stunning, my heart,” the woman compliments and I cue a blush.

“Thank you so much for your invitation,” I say, my eyes already sweeping past her. There are perhaps a dozen or so richly dressed guests, however I only have eyes for one.

“Go on, dearest. He requested your presence especially.” MsDanikaStarburst’s smile becomes a smirk.

Torin stands as I approach, his lips slightly parted as he inhales sharply and I blush for real. He’s gorgeous in his grey, pinstriped suit and short‑brimmed fedora. His waist is lean and his shoulders broad and I remember him in only his swimsuit. He gathers my hand in both of his and brings it to his lips, lingering as his tongue darts out to taste my skin.

“Lenora,” he purrs.

I’m out of my depth, spinning a million miles a second, tumbling head over heels. I’m loving every minute of it.

So are my followers

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