Fear Feast

Skin Deep: Appetizer

Skin Deep: Appetizer  

The white light flashed, illuminating the angles of Belinda’s perfectly contoured face. She looked at the screen of her phone. She grimaced in disappointment. The picture was not good enough. She had spent hours carefully applying her makeup and now she needed an “epic selfie” to show it off. She snapped a couple more shots of herself with the front-view camera this time so she could better monitor her expressions. She scrutinized the pictures. Only one of them was deemed worthy. She posted that one online so all her Belindettes could see it.

Belinda was a beauty guru. At the tender age of nineteen, she had amassed just over one million loyal internet fans, her Belindettes. Everyday, the Belindettes tuned in to watch Belinda smile, pout and apply just the right amount of bronzer. Belinda was thrilled at the level of success she had achieved at such a young age. The money she earned through her website allowed her to work from home and to live a very comfortable life. 

However, it was not quite enough. Belinda wanted it all. She wanted a lavish lifestyle. She wanted to be the most watched beauty guru on the web. If there was a Prom Queen of internet makeup artists, she wanted the fake diamond-studded crown planted firmly on her head. She sighed. It was almost ten: time to hit the stores. 

Belinda whistled the theme song of her web series to herself as she meandered through the crowd. Designer boutiques lined either side of the street. Each passer-by got a mental score from Belinda. A woman in sweats with her hair in a messy topknot was given a three. No fashion sense, no effort. A girl in a sleek romper with stiletto boots and a designer bag was given a nine. Belinda was the only ten.

She spent all day looking for unique pieces to incorporate into her wardrobe but nothing stood out. She was not about to go home empty-handed. There had to be something around here worth wearing. A daring garment. A fashion statement. She sighed as she exited another store with nothing but the handbag she had come with. That was when she saw it. 

There was a break between two boutiques. A narrow alleyway lay between Belle of the Ball and Hats On. She had never even noticed it before. She approached the mouth of the alley. It was several yards long and ended in a store, sandwiched between the two larger shops. She could only see the glass door from here and a sign behind it saying “Open 7 Days Only: Huge Clearance Sale.” 

Ew, thought Belinda, that place looks cheap. There’s definitely no brand-names sold there. Hmm but a store like that would have unique stuff. No one else would be wearing it.

Belinda was at the front door of the store before she even realized she had been walking towards it. She opened the door. She was greeted by the chiming of bells but no one came to ask if she needed assistance.

Ugh, thought Belinda, probably some lazy girl in the back on her tenth break for the day or something. Places like this always have terrible customer service.

Belinda looked around. The room she was in was wider than she had expected. It was cluttered top to bottom and side to side with every article of clothing and beauty item a guru like Belinda could dream of. She tried not to be impressed as she searched through the racks of shirts, skirts, cocktail dresses, gowns, jeans, T-shirts and cardigans. There was a counter of strange, intricately designed glass bottles. Belinda assumed they were perfumes. Another counter was home to a variety of makeup and hair products. Belinda scrutinized the packaging. None of these things had any labels: no prices, no tags, no designer or store names etched on. Even for a fly-by-night tiny boutique, this was strange. She shrugged it off as something in a glass case caught her eye. 

The mannequin in the case wore the most beautiful party dress Belinda had ever seen. It was a body-hugging number with gold and silver embroideries. Belinda pulled out her purse. She hoped this placed took credit.