The Diva In The DarkMature

As glitter covered feet stepped out of high heeled boots and a cellphone dropped down beside the woman's ostentatious footwear; a thousand hands were up in the air, ready to hold her up. Her words carried over them. It was the very air they breathed. Tossing a frilled and flowery scarf to the side, she fell into their arms with a cordless microphone in hand.

"Too much of a gentleman,
Couldn't say it with words,
Over before it began!"

The singer's body passed over her fans as she kept singing. She tried her best to maintain her focus as hands groped at her, faces kissed her body and a note with someone's phone number was deposited behind the straps of her bra.

"Baby, we're not love birds,
I don't follow the herds,
It was, o-oh wo-oh, it was...
Over before it began!"

The diva had dark, naturally red hair. It was straight and long but curled at the ends. Her countenance held perfect skin, a face of classic beauty and a small, delicate nose. Below, she wore a black and silver dress, spotted with jewel-like beads and patches of glittery outlines. The cleavage exposed was strikingly odd, the top masked in a scintillating weave while leaving the sides of her bosom plain and exposed.

"Could see it in his eyes,
Never ever meeting mine,
Right down to my thighs,
Yeah, I know I'm fine,
But I'm nobody's prize!"

The flashing lights. The booming bass guitar. The mist between the dancers in the mosh pit. It was all part of her gig, part of her every-other-day routine.

"It was damn hot pressure,
He wanted a refresher,
Could see it in his eyes,
Right down to my thighs,
Over before it began!"

Scissors cutting at her bejeweled outfit. That was normal too. A scratch became a gash. Blood down her calf. Someone screamed. But she didn't flinch. She didn't even stop singing.

"It's not how I dress,
Not as you thought,
Just a big hot mess,
Waiting to transgress,
So that you can obsess,
Hey, I just wanna self-express,
No, I will not, no, I will not,
I will not say yes!"

"Oh, I like when you caress,
But I really must digress,
'Cuz I'm not here to say yes!"

They deposited her onto the side stage, and she rose to her feet gracefully. The blood was there for all to see, but the cut had vanished. The severed tendon and muscle was perfectly fine. And nobody missed a beat.

"You've got a butcher's touch,
Makes me feel like a cut of meat,
I'm not reaching for your clutch,
Darling... stop staring at my feet!"

The crowd was cheering, "Rosa, Rosa, Rosa!"

She withdrew, making them wait for what they wanted most. A hand signal to the band, and the volume was raised. An instrumental sequence filled the room. And Rosa LaChique did exactly what her fans were doing.

She raised her hands in the air and danced between her band members and stage dancers, bumping hips with her guitar players and stopping to catch one of her dancers off-guard with a passionate kiss that seemed to suck his tongue right out of his mouth.

As the instrumental came to an end, she circled him like pray. He stood there in his tight jeans and glitter-covered beige v-neck t-shirt.

"Y're too much of a gentleman,
Ya couldn't say it with words,
Y'were over before it began!"

She stepped against him from behind and ripped his shirt open, exposing a well-toned chest. The music came to a halt at that moment.

"I am telling you, darling," she whispered into the microphone. "No, not tonight. 'Cause there's a proper time and place. And there are plenty of other ways, my dear, to make love."

And then every light went out. The performance hall was lit only by the pale glow of phosphorescent body paint and the glowsticks that had been sold to the crowd. That was when they knew the night's events were over for them, and a cheer rose up like thunder.

When it fell, all that could be heard was the ringing of a cellphone.

"Okay," said Rosa. A lone spotlight was ignited over her. "I thought we agreed you'd all turn off your cellphones?"

The ringing continued. And it was loud. Too loud. Then Rosa realized it was her own phone. It was set to only ring for emergency calls.

"Ah, I see," she told her fans. "My apologies. I'm the one who didn't hold up my end of the bargain. Perhaps another night, then?"

Laughter broke out. Then a second, more deafening cheer rose up from the crowd as Rosa walked off stage with her phone open against the side of her face.

"Are you serious, sir?" Rosa asked her phone, as she removed a note from under the back of her bra and dropped it into a recycling bin. "All right. I'll deal with the situation. You just tell me where. Don't send back-up unless I ask for it."

The End

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