[Kallile]

It had been another successful night.

The stage had been sturdy, the audience on their best behavior, and aside from a few last minute hemming fixes and corset adjustments the gowns they had premiered had looked like something straight out of a fairytale. It was a bittersweet night for Kyrie. The business of modelling was one that she loved but one that she had hoped to have been retired from by now. But things happen and lives change...so she found herself still in the business amidst a sea of novices and those just really beginning their adult lives. For the most part the affectionately called her 'Mama Ky" since she did her best to take them under her wing and teach them the ins and outs of the business. There was cattiness, of course, but that just came with the territory.

Luckily, they were all still of the age that going to the after parties sounded like great fun.

The world around her was still bustling as the tear-down crew got to work and wardrobe was frantically trying to collect the most expensive pieces of this seasons hottest collection before they got ruined. Luckily Kyrie wasn't too high on their list--and for the moment she was content to just wait backstage in the 'commons' area where makeup had been earlier.

The area was fairly bare now, save for a few of the tear down crew here and there. Most had been in the business so long that seeing finely dressed ladies really didn't warrant a second glance. Of course, there were always newcomers who insisted on whistling every now and again and to them Kyrie paid no idea.

she had always hoped that, by now, she might have met someone. Maybe she and that someone would have settled down and started a family. She had, in fact, met two who she had once thought might be the right ones. Something had happened with each and Kyrie found herself still in a business her late-twenties was getting too old for with no husband or family to spend her time with.

She looked at herself in one of the high gloss mirrors with lights blaring from every possible angle and forced a smile. Well, she could live with that. There was so much life ahead of her after all. She pushed back a few stray locks of hair that had slowly crept into her eyes and stood back up. The lilac cut out dress she was wearing hugged her body tightly, the bun her hair was pulled into showing off her lithe and delicate necklines. It was pretty...but she was more than ready to get into something a little...less revealing.

"Now then, where did they put my gym bag at?" she mused aloud. Tear down crews could be so thuggish when it came to tossing the ladies 'street' clothes around...

[96]

[Jaykobell]

One might wonder, on a daily basic, how they'd ended up in a job they couldn't give two hoots about. They might also wonder how one who hated their job could possibly stick around without being passive-aggressive or downright unbearable and rude.

And sure, he'd wondered those things quite a few times before. After his original workplace had shut down, he'd been forced to work with the public - with the public who were the first to give him dirty looks because of the bizarre bat-like wings he sported on his back. Apart from them, he looked completely human, but strangers were quick to assume he was a weird monster of science. In truth, they weren't too far from the truth.

That being said, life had been difficult following the shut down of the old business where he used to work. In his attempts to put his life back in control, he'd taken a number of jobs here and there, but they were difficult to come by. Who wanted a cashier with freak bat wings? Not very many supermarkets, and that much he could confirm.

Still, despite it all, he'd managed to find a job as a bodyguard in a business that dealt with fashion models and the likes. Not that he truly understood what they did or showed; the only thing he did understand was that, unlike everywhere else, they considered his wings an asset rather than a disadvantage. The ability of flight did come in handy in huge crowds, especially if you needed a fast reactor. Who had time to run? Flying was a lot faster.

He'd grown to bear the job well enough by focusing his attention on the models. Of course, they were young, gorgeous women of perfect figures that flashed their assets and beauty all day long; whether they were showing a new dress or not. What man didn't want to have such pretty women around him all day? Sissy men, that was who; and he certainly wasn't one of them.

He'd been trying for one model in particular; one who was his type, or at least, one that had caught his attention. He'd been waiting for an opportunity to speak to her, but the models were surprisingly busy. Fortunately, a little, harmless idea had come to him to help with this little situation.

When he heard the model in question, he saw his chance and seized it faster than an eagle. "Whatcha looking for, Kyrie?" he asked the model, nonchalantly walking over to her, with a gym bag in his hands; and of course, he knew very well that it was hers. "Found this getting tossed 'round by the tear down crew; yours?" he asked with a grin, tilting his head and looking at her over his shades as he showed her the bag from a closer angle. Not that the crew had had anything to do with it; he'd taken it himself, waiting for an opportunity to come. But it's not like Kyrie needed to know that. "Recall seeing you with it before."

[Kallile]

The problem with fashion show venues was the sheer size of them. Kyrie stood in the midst of a maze of mirrors and make-up booths, hands placed delicately on her hips as she tried to narrow down the possibilities in her mind. That was funny, it didn't look like the crew had really made it back here at all just yet. So then where was...

She turned at the sounds of her name, eyes quickly meeting the sunglasses on Sylvester's face before dropping to the bag he was holding out for her to examine. She wasn't terribly familiar with the new body guard yet; she knew his name (she made it a point to know everyone's name that she worked with), that he had only been with the company a short while, and that he was a new part of the body guard team. His large wings always gave her a little pang of sadness. Though dark and more frightening than his, they always reminded her of Cristobal's wings. She derailed the train of thought from her mind, focusing instead on the fact that her bag had been located.

"Oh, Sylvester!" She said happily as she looked back up at him. "I figured all the guards had went with the new girls to the after party. But I have to say, I'm very glad you didn't! And yes, that is mine. Thank you so much; I might have been here all night trying to track this down!"

She walked over to him, holding out her hands to accept the bag back from him. The other women might have been snobby and insisted he carry it to the dressing room or hold it so they didn't have to carry it themselves. But Kyrie wasn't nearly so 'delicate' or prissy--carrying a bag certainly wasn't going to kill her. "I hope you're not missing the party because of me--I'm sure there are plenty of unauthorized hands that need swatting with the new girls." She said with a laugh.

"Besides, I'm just planning on heading home after I give the company their dress back. I'm sure you'd have more fun with them than staying to babysit me."