Page 23 of Song of the Heart Scale
“She’s theater-trained,” Angie offered. “Stanislavski style.”
“Total method queen.” The moment I finished, Tiffy clapped her hands together. “Omigod, it’s perfect! I look like I eat diamonds and bleed rose water.”
I stepped back, relieved. “Your transformation is complete.”
Tiffy stood and turned to a gilded mirror the size of a carriage door. “Goddess. Literal goddess.” She turned and kissed both of my cheeks, leaving behind a faint smear of setting spray. “If you weren’t already, like, a genius, I’d say you should marry rich. You have trophy energy.”
I blinked. “I alreadyamrich.” Even though technically my family was going bankrupt… but I didn’t need to go into detail.
She waved off my comment. “I know. I meantvibes.”
Her entourage sprang into motion, bustling around her with perfume and garment bags. Angie gently nudged me toward the corner of the suite.
“You’re doing great,” she whispered. “Just keep it up. No imperial proclamations, and for the love of God, stop saying ‘beg your pardon’ like you're going to duel someone.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I should very much like to duel that one with the glitter blazer,” I muttered.
“No dueling. Just blend.”
We moved to gather our things, though Tiffy stopped me to ask for one last contour touch-up before descending to the car. I obliged with a sigh and she leaned in again.
“So, are you on TikTok?”
“Is that a form of medication?”
Tiffy blinked, then burst out laughing. “You’re soweird,I love it! Can I tag you in my pics on Insta?”
Angie artfully stepped in. “She doesn’t have socials yet. Still working on her debut.”
“Ugh, chic. A mystery. We’re all soonlinethese days. Your lack of presence is refreshing.”
Once Tiffy swept out with her entourage in a cloud of perfume, the suite was blissfully quiet. Angie and I stood in the echo of it all, surrounded by soft brushes, palettes, and chaos.
“I think that went well,” she remarked dryly.
I sank onto a fainting couch. “It was exhausting.”
Angie grinned. “Yes, but you didn’t call anyone a peasant. That’s progress.”
“I came close.”
She chuckled, picking up a powder brush and tapping it against her palm. “You know, you’re kind of good at this.”
I sniffed and glanced down at my nails. “I am good at everything.”
“No kidding.”
There was a beat of silence between us, comfortable, almost soft.
“Angie?”
“Yeah?”
“What, exactly, is an Aquarius?”
She smiled. “I’ll explain on the drive back.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Will it involve glitter?”
