Vanilla smoked lies sweetly burn behind Mia’s gaze as she air-brushes her flawless face with her Dinair Media Spa kit purchased from Nieman Marcus, which she bought on sale for only $1450.00. She mists perfume across her neckline and says, “Mildred, will you clasp my necklace? And don’t worry, I’m almost finished getting ready.”
“Yeah sure,” she says while gazing at Mia’s perfection in the mirror, “but I don’t know why you have to get all fixed up, we’re not going out.”
“Well, I may go out. I know this is our night, but I may have a date with Bradford Merrick, the financial titan Bradford Merrick. I know you don’t understand, but I have an image to uphold. I’ve been studying the Anthony Robbins Ultimate Edge CD series and success should be reflected in one’s appearance. Everything I do, say, every action I take has purpose, and without purpose we are losers. I’ve changed my life for the better: the guys I date are successful, my friends are successful, and I loathe to associate with anyone not on my frequency: the frequency of abundance.”
Mildred feels ugly. Ugly inside and out. Her neck-less skull sits imploded betwixt thick shoulders, a lead anvil hammered into spine, splattering a slight hump across her upper back. A miscreant goth she is, though smart and philosophical. She clasps the necklace and says, “Don’t you think you’re taking this image thing too far? For god’s sake, everyone knows you’re beautiful. You have doctors, lawyers, professors crawling at your feet. I mean Bradford Merrick bought you a corvette and barely knows you, how does that happen? You know the rest of the world doesn’t experience that stuff. And I doubt your interpretation of Anthony Robbins is right.”
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