Infamous | ongoing

02 | Femme Fatale

She had decided on a white blouse paired with a navy blue mini skirt and matching military jacket that had dazzling golden buttons on either side, her hair styled in a side part slicked ponytail that was embellished with her edges forming curl patterns. To keep the look mature she had chosen minimal accessories, the only jewellery she had worn being a silver necklace with her initials making a unique shaped cross.

Needless to say, Blair looked like she had been prepped for the runway by a herd of professional stylists that had been studying the faux-pas of the industry for decades and she was about to make Clara, and whoever else was deciding her fate, believe the exact same thing.

It didn't matter where she came from, all she was focused on was what she had to do to ensure that she would never have to go back.

Blair waved goodbye to the moving vehicle after shutting the car door tight, twisting to face the towering glossy high-rise building that had two columns with a sculpture of Clara's face in a tight frown above them both. With a few breathing exercises, relaxing her shoulders as she did so, Blair swayed her hips with flair as she pranced up the steps into the lobby.

The interior of the high-rise had made the exterior of the building that Blair had just spent several minutes admiring appear to be laughable in comparison, everything about the room that she had just walked into screamed exclusivity and riches with a touch of narcissism. The amount of times that Blair had seen art forms of Clara in the hallway alone felt slightly disturbing. Her eyes eventually landed on the sleek white modular reception desk where a talkative blonde receptionist sat, evidently engrossed in a conversation she shouldn't be having. Each step that Blair took made the brunette woman appear to be increasingly frustrated at the fact that her phone call was due to come to an end to which she reacted with a sharp eye roll and a turn of her snug swivel office chair but unfortunately for the receptionist, Blair never took no for an answer no matter how many judgemental looks were thrown her way.

"Excuse me, I have an appointment with Ms. Clermont." Blair stated, her smile growing wider whilst the receptionist hesitantly ended her phone call to face Blair with a fair amount of disinterest on her face.

"Wait here." The receptionist ordered, lifting herself up from her desk before turning on her heel in the direction of the staff-only backroom.

Blair gave a small nod in response, tapping her heel against the seemingly expensive flooring as a discreet symbol that she would not be capable of waiting for any more than a few minutes. As she waited, she encountered a curious glare from a stranger that swiftly reminded her of the girl-next-door persona. With a terrifying outfit choice, slouched posture and consistent glances in Blair's directions that reeked of insecurity and an admit of defeat, she was making it just that much easier for Blair to create a slight step up in the competition before she even began to climb.

Let's have a little fun.

"Hi," Blair waved, taking a couple of steps to approach her, once the girl had looked around and realised that Blair was indeed talking to her. "I'm Blair."

"Nice to meet you." She responded in a whisper, returning to  seriously focusing on the marble flooring as an obvious attempt to disengage.

"Aren't you going to tell me your name, I mean it's mildly creepy not to." Blair's request was naturally supposed to come out as a question but nothing was ever short of a demand when coming from her.