The Scene by R. M. Gilmore Page A

soft, lush and probably very expensive. Once on the next floor, the lighting and décor began to change. Large spotlight-type, lights stood high atop metal tripod structures. The new, brighter, more industrialized, lighting was a stark contrast to the soft Tiffany lamps down stairs. There was only one door to the right, closed of course.
    Damn .
    To the left was a large open landing where the new, bright lighting, was emanating. It was fully equipped with professional cameras and lighting configurations. Large beautiful drapes hung around the space, creating a very interesting backdrop. I was guessing they did all photography and publishing of Sandora in-house. There were a few very attractive people lounging upon yet another fainting couch I would have stolen. This time it was done in a royal blue. One of those attractive people caught my eye and smiled viciously, Dominika.
    Fuck .
    She handed off the long-stemmed glass she was holding and slid gracefully off the couch. She began moving toward us slinking and swaying as only someone so fierce can do. As she had the night before, she focused her sights on Cyrus, but unlike last night , I couldn’t care less.
                  “Cyrus, my darling, I see you have brought my lovely friend back to visit me,” she said slyly, kissing him on either cheek. The thick Russian-type accent was beginning to make me sick.
                  “The statuesque blonde.” She kissed Tatum on either cheek. Tatum returned the kiss; mimicking Dominika’s movements.
                  “And the Rubenesque brunette.” She leaned in to kiss my cheek. As she did this, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and planted one on the bitch. Just as she had done to Tatum, I held her tight and kissed her as hard as I could. I'm pretty sure it didn't look as hot with me doing it, but I didn't care. I wanted to throw this skank off her game. After a moment or so, I pulled back, preparing to see the shock on her face. But to my surprise, she didn't let me go. She grabbed the back of my head and held it so hard I thought she'd pull me right into her mouth. Just as suddenly as it happened, it was over. She pulled her head back and gave me the same evil smirk she had given Tatum the previous evening.
                  “I am glad to see you have let go of those pesky inhibitions.” She leaned in closely and whispered so only I would hear. “He will always think of me.” At that she turned, greeted Malcolm, and sauntered back to her perch upon the coveted royal blue fainting couch. It took all I had not to tear into her throat with my bare hands.
                  I now had the opportunity to glance around at my entourage. As I suspected, they were all staring, jaws dragging the floor, eyes wide in shock. All but Malcolm. He was still composed and waiting patiently.
                  “Close your mouth, sweetie. You'll catch flies.” I touched my finger to Cyrus' chin closing it softly. I winked at Tatum and turned to join Malcolm at the bottom of the second flight of stairs. The narrow stairwell was only wide enough for one at a time.
                  “You are such a slut,” Tatum said in my ear suddenly right next to me.
                  “I know. You love it.”
                  “Generally, but I don’t like that bitch. She’s creepy.” She stepped ahead of me to create a single file line heading up to the top floor.
                  The stairs ended at a door marked PRIVATE. Malcolm pulled a small key from his pocket and unlocked the door. As he turned the knob, I expected to hear a creepy creak as the door opened, like an old haunted house. The door opened quietly and a soft light flicked on. We all entered the room, one after another, with Cyrus taking up the rear. The space was large and seemed to be a converted attic, spanning the area of the lower floors. Having only one small window,