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I decided on a very cropped black tube top with several silver chain necklaces and black fishnets under ripped jeans that were the same red color as my hair. I put on some simple black open toed heels and cuffed the bottom of my jeans inward to tuck butterfly knives up inside, one in each pant leg, completely concealed. I slid another folded up knife into the small shirt I was wearing, tucking it right under my bra for quick access from the bottom. I grabbed my brass knuckles and slid them into the cut in fabric in the waistband of my jeans. Almost all of my clothes had secret pockets or compartments to hide things in, whether it be a knife or a dime bag or cash. I wanted to look like a sexy badass that wasn't actually a badass. Like I was just some pretty little girl with one too many piercings and some tight clothes. Being underestimated was like a superpower, and I was the master at provoking underestimation.

I traded out some of my piercings so that they were all black, no longer any silver ones. Even my bellybutton piercing was a black Baphomet, the ram's head that supposedly represented evil spirits. Colby would get a kick out of that, considering he regarded himself to be important enough to be called Satan. Even I wasn't that stupid. I could literally have my people calling me 'master' or 'boss' or 'God' but I just chose a relatively typical type of name and moved on with it. It took a seriously huge ego to refer to yourself as something like 'Wrath' or 'Satan'. Those were some big implied reputations to uphold. But Colby didn't seem stupid, didn't seem like the kind of guy that would get himself into more trouble than he could get out of. In fact, he seemed like the kind of guy who could literally shoot someone in front of a cop, flash him a smile, and walk away with no repercussions. Like Colby knew how to control people. But couldn't figure out how to control me.

I kept the makeup pretty consistent with some girl my age trying to look all slutty for a party in case she saw any cute guys. Dramatic liner, fake lashes, deep contour, exaggerated highlight, bright red lipstick. I put my hair into two half-up pigtails, purely out of irony that they looked like devil horns in a way, considering the color. If Colby was going to call himself Satan, call himself the embodiment of a deadly sin, then I was going to push his buttons for it.

And then I realized I didn't even know what the seven deadly sins were. I went back into my room and pulled out my laptop for some basic research.

Pride, being a narcissistic maniac. Greed, being a selfish dick. Envy, hating other people because they had what you didn't. Lust, never truly satisfied in both a general and sexual sense. Sloth, possessing great skill but refusing to use it out of sheer laziness. Gluttony, overindulgence in food or wealth or similar things. And finally, wrath. Wrath: strong anger or indignation; basically someone who feels too much too often, the feelings not typically 'pure' ones. Except Colby didn't seem to feel anything too excessively when we had interacted. Maybe he had learned to control it? Maybe that was part of Satan's power, being able to control their intensity in which they demonstrate the sins. Wait, if he was one of them, then who were the other six?

Hold on. What was I doing? I was reading way too far into this. Wrath is a word, a concept, one of the seven worst sins a person can commit. And Satan was also a concept, an idea, a supposed demon. I'm not saying I do or don't believe in God and spirits, because quite frankly I'm not sure what I believe, but I certainly didn't believe that Colby was the literal Satan, just hanging out in LA and throwing parties. I needed to chill. He was just an insanely attractive guy who sparked my interest for a few legitimate reasons. He knew Axel when Axel didn't really know him, he knew my name and seemed like he'd been waiting to meet me for forever, and his eyes did that weird thing when he was talking sometimes, as if the glint in them was supposed to convince whoever saw it that Colby was telling the truth. These were reasonable things to be suspicious of.

I decided I wouldn't read so much into it. It was a party. He was a cute guy. I hadn't even gone out for something legal in a while. This would just be fun, nothing more. I'd get drunk and learn a few fun facts about the guy and finally get to see the infamous Traphouse and its residents that were so well known for the batshit insane parties they threw. Tonight, I wasn't Saturn. I was Jupiter. 

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