The Elementalists

29.

They washed and tugged my hair before blow-drying it to perfection. My nails were filed and painted over with black. I had to submit to a facepack and tweezing but luckily no waxing. All the hair on my arms and legs had been singed off ages ago due to all the fire work I did.

I was shoved out of the parlor with a full face of makeup, yet still in my shoddy clothes. I had no idea how they already knew to put on a black polish because my invitation arrived later, along with a long, slinky black dress.

The material was smooth. Sifting it through my hands, it shimmered with an unseen glitter but it was just perfectly muted. It wasn't anything too fancy or over the top in terms of its design but Wafi had left the pricetag on.

I had to sit down before I had a panic attack.

It took a few moments to make those numbers disappear from dancing in front of my eyes but I eventually stood up and held it against me. I'll never know how Wafi found out my fit but it seems to be perfect.

The dress was bunched up at the chest, probably tight and definitely strapless. It higher on one side of my waist, the waves falling from it just perfectly enough to raise that side of my dress and show off a considerable amount of leg. It trailed a bit on the ground when I put it on, but fell a bit better once I put on the heels he'd sent too.

I carefully avoided any white piece of paper possible stuck on the box as I pulled out the strappy black stilettos. I didn't want to have two panic attacks in a day.

Just looking at them made my feet hurt. Luckily, the healer had paid extra attention to my ankle while I'd been snoozing. It was fixed but I was starting to wish it wasn't just to have an excuse not to wear them.

I sighed, careful as I tugged them on. I didn't need the pricetag to know they were expensive just the brand logo was enough to have me hiccupping. The shape of the gown with the added height made me look slender, almost elegant. If only I had a bedazzled silver clutch to go with it. I still looked good, I mean, I would catcall myself walking down the street. Damn.

I ran a hand over my hair, primping it a bit. The makeup the giggling ladies downstairs had done was exquisite. It didn't seem over the top or caked on. The eyeshadow was dark and smokey, the lipstick just red enough to draw attention to my lips but not overpowering to look at. My hair framed my face in delicate strands, tumbling down my back and over my bare shoulders in careful waves.

I twisted a bit in front of the mirror, to see how the dress accentuated my figure. It didn't leave much to imagination and my cleavage was certainly out to play tonight. Luckily I had the cups to hold it up. I glanced around the mess in my room. Why'd these dresses and shoes come with so much tissue packaging? I pulled my heels off so I could walk around the room, bend and clean up better to waste some time before leaving. It was written that transportation would be provided so I had to wait for a call to go down to the lobby.

It didn't take long for the call to come. The receptionist sounded rather flustered for some reason.

I nervously glanced up and down the hallway before click-clacking in my heels to the elevator. The attendant's eyes widened considerably. I gave him a soft smile. "Lobby, please."

There was an awkward silence in the small space as he continued to stare at my reflection and I continued to pretend not to notice. The lobby was fairly empty this time of the night. A few people coming and going, a few contenders from earlier sitting around chatting stopped to stare. I very consciously ducked my head and headed straight to the door.

I couldn't help a visible grimace passing through my face as I realised the car waiting for me was a sports car. Sleek, sexy and navy blue. I'm not the only girl looking good tonight.