The auditorium thrummed like a hive of pissy hornets. Girls pressed to our shoulders as we made our way through the aisles. Their voices were pitched high.
Laughter and cracked across the space and leashes flickered under the shifting light of the Corpusculaire.
The structure billowed with muted yellows and bright purples. Strong perfume and nervous sweat filled the air.
Lily and I made our way to confront the bitch Cechele. Our shoes slapped against the marble floor with enough force to echo.
Lily kept pace half a step behind me, her silver-backed tarot deck flicking back and forth between her hands while her pigtails bobbed from side to side.
