Iridescent

Chapter One - Black Widow

“Oh lovely, look who’s just arrived,” the bland looking brunette’s gaze was fixed on the same face that every other head in the crowded room were now turning to, including her friend, as if being pulled by the same invisible thread.

“Fantastic. The black widow. And judging by that dress she’s ready to pounce.”

It was blood red, and tight, and short, and not very much present on her back, which now had about two dozen eyes boring into it as she glided her way towards the bar.

The two girls narrowed their eyes as they watched her with a confusing level of awed contempt.

“I know we call her the black widow, and trust me I’m not softening up, but I’ve never actually seen her ‘pounce’.”

The girl’s friend raised her eyebrows curiously. “That’s the mystery I guess. I haven’t either. All I know is people flock to her. I mean, she’s so untouchable, such an ice queen, and yet we’ve been talking about her for the last ten minutes. That woman possesses some kind of witchcraft –“

The girl’s sentence was interrupted by a gasp from her own mouth, as the object of her rant turned around and directly met her gaze from across the room, her icy blue eyes burning like fire.

The girl might be talking about those few seconds for weeks to come, but to Taylor hers were just another pair of eyes, not worth remembering as she scanned the room. As usual she was looking but not seeing.

“Your martini Miss Swift.”

She nodded absently to the bartender before pressing the cold glass to her lips, the bitter liquid leaving a warm trail as it slid down her throat. The warmth of the alcohol spread through her body like a wildfire through a forest, blue flames burning in her bright eyes as she continued surveying the room.

As usual her presence here was due to boredom rather than excitement. She was starting to feel like part of the furniture in her hotel room, one of the armchairs or maybe even a slender lamp, so she decided she needed to get out and find herself something to play with.

People knew better than to approach her. The unspoken rule hung in the air around her, creating a wall between her and…well everyone so clearly beneath her. She chose you, never the other way around.

But when she did choose you, you couldn’t help but hang on every word that spilled from her lips. She had a way of putting people in a hypnotic state with a single glance of her bright eyes.

It’s no surprise to anyone that she has millions of fans. People flock to her like moths to a flame, and burn just as easily if they get too close. She knows exactly how to light up a stage and enchant thousands of people at once; it’s become a kind of a game to her now. And afterwards she can just as easily tone it down to a small flicker of light hidden behind a hazy smoke, just enough to lure people to her.

Finally, her gaze settled on her target for the night, or rather her unsuspecting victim. He ticked all the right cliché boxes; tall, dark, handsome, and just enough female eyes on him to make it a satisfying game. Being young and famous was a spectator sport after all, and she had been winning for a long time.

Taylor tilted her glass upwards, letting the last few drops slide onto her tongue like the final drops of rain before a hurricane. She licked her lips and placed the empty glass on the counter before silently gliding towards him, the path opening up before her like the Red Sea.

She stopped with a few inches between them. Her blood red lips brushed against his ear, leaving a stain that would tingle until he could touch her again. “The Plaza. Room 502,” the words tumbled out in a low whisper only he could hear. She could’ve toyed with him for a while, like a cat playing with a mouse before devouring it, but she wasn’t in the mood for extra work tonight.