my skin has turned to porcelain, to ivory, to steel.

sᴡɪɴɢ, ʙᴀʙʏ! | alluringhubris

        Asami’s life was, to put it bluntly, charmed. The only daughter of a wealthy business tycoon, he was able to provide his darling girl with whatever it was her heart desired. Despite this, Hiroshi Sato had also raised his daughter to be self-sufficient and independent; a trait that unbeknownst to Asami mirrored that of her late mother. She didn’t have a lot of memories of her mother —- she’d died when Asami was still a child, just barely over the age of six, but she knew one thing: her mother had been beautiful. The pictures around the large Sato estate told her that much, and looking in the mirror every morning Asami saw her likeness her own reflection. Beautiful, poised, intelligent — everything you’d imagine the heiress to the Sato fortune and Future Industries would be. But such a fairytale life didn’t come without its hiccups.

        Most nights Asami ate dinner alone, because her father found himself buried in work in his office or pulled away to a sudden problem at the factory. This did not bother Asami. The loneliness, on the other hand, did. Boredom, too, was another issue. As a wealthy and sought after heiress, she was hardly naive to the intentions of greedy people. She’d learned the hard way that friendships were only as real as the money she lent out and relationships were hardly much better. Very few people Asami considered friends, and even fewer she actually gave her number to.

        She was not the partying type by any stretch of the word, but when close friends urged her to get out a little, she couldn’t help but finally start to agree. Her life was becoming too routine. She was young and beautiful and why shouldn’t she be able to go out and have fun once in a while? Sure, her father might have disapproved of such outlandish behaviour, but if he wasn’t around then who was he to know? In any case, something had to give.

        And that was how the heiress found herself at one of Republic City’s most talked about Jazz clubs. Bubbling laughter and loud band music erupted from the building with gusto and Asami was caught in the middle of it all, dazzled by the charming Suits and Flappers with their bobbed hair and ruby red lipstick. She fiddled with her own ensemble; a classic gold fringe frock that hit just below the knee and clung to all the right curves. The kind of look any Flapper would have worn. Her fingers played with the various strands of pearls that hung from around her neck, the other outlining the rim of her Martini glass with a manicured nail as she sat by the bar.

        Vibrant, green eyes cast about the club and finally settle on a head of sleek, black hair just one seat over. Her first impression is that he’s kind of cute. In an unconventional sort of way. Her second is that everything about him screams confidence and a good time— and that was just the sort of crowd she needed. So, plucking up her own courage, she leans over and rests a hand on his arm, flashing him a grin as she speaks loud over the music.

        “Shouldn’t a guy like you be out there dancin’?"