• Night crept over LA, embracing the city from the blinding daylight and satisfying her fix for darkness. The stars weren’t visible as they we drowned out by the operatic charlatans beaming merrily like a vibrant rainbow orb around the city.
    Ivory opened her eyes to the silent symphony of colours that crept past the black drapes and danced around room; flooding it with light.

    Ivory angled her body to watch the sunlight’s finale, a soft melancholy ballad. A half smile had past across her lips, however pretty and warm it was; the night was Ivory’s call. It had a cold alluring softness. Not bad and untrustworthy, just simple and reassuring. A comfort to Ivory.
    She sat in the silence, welcoming the bone-chilling wind to wrap her tenderly in its ridged talons. Her stone blue skin didn’t so much as shiver as the icy breeze ran across her back like fingers across the strings of a harp.

    At nine thirty, as usual, her mobile flashed and buzzed demanding her to answer the incoming call. Absent mindedly, Ivory lifted the phone to her ear and listened.
    A rushed, excited voice echoed distantly. Questions. Always complicated questions with answers floating somewhere, awaiting to be made vocal.
    Ivory remained silent, trying to picking the right words to say. She hated phone conversations; there was nothing personal about them, no feeling or eye contact.

    “I’ll meet you at Pixie Dust in an hour, I need to fix something first”