A promo shoot for the new ‘Jreamcycle’ involved a popular artist in black cycling shorts and a white brami; soft midriff on display for the photographer to capture her toned stomach and flattering waistline. Copious amounts of strawberry scented oil coated her slender arms and collarbone; glazing her slim neck and thighs. Her pampered skin glistened to give the appearance of recently working out, and a box fan in the corner gusted her voluminous ponytail over her shoulder. She looked like she belonged on a beach, but the studio gave anything but a beachy mood. A leak in the ceiling collected into a blue pail, and the camera crew gave off mad creepy vibes, though vibes were sometimes wrong. The strange studio set ups and casting couch auras seemed to be the usual these days, but so far so good. Bad Talent™ management company had a knack for scouting out and hiring suspicious characters for their shoots, anything to cut the price. Anyone can hold a camera, is what her agent told her - and with so many digging their hands in the Jream pot, determining real from fake was so far, out of the question.
Cordelia was better known by her stage name across Twin Dixie city as Jream. One time song-writer of the year award recipient, reigning indie pop queen turned sell out. Recently the sultry pop singer’s latest headline related to her social media antics, stating that she regularly flies off the handles and abuses her assistants. Even a whole day later, Jream remembered how agitated she felt reading the criticisms from her online haters. Her old assistant ran to the blogs and told them a terribly true story about how Cordelia dined-and-dashed from a restaurant, adding fuel to the fire that was her career. It wasn’t bad enough that the chef left an equally bad review on her newest hit single. Apparently in his spare time he freelanced for popular music magazines, and he backed up the claims that she didn’t pay for her meal. That was just the latest scandal the artist faced, and without an assistant to wait on her every whim and coddle, Cordelia questioned the chances of surviving the media mongrels.
“Hey, Jream. Can ya’ look this way for me?” Brittni, the make-up artist and choreographer politely instructed, and Cordelia’s plump lips were touched up with a gloss and the points of her cheekbones bronzed and blushed. The whole ordeal lasted ten seconds tops, and Cordelia returned with a glassy-eyed, dolly look.
Such a fuckin’ fox. Isn’t she?
“Can you be quiet, please? I am trying to work.” That snark and sass wasn’t Cordelia, but her alter ego Jream. At least, that’s what she said when she refused to be held accountable for anything. Cordelia’s long, false eyelashes batted and she unzipped the front to her brami, exposing her exaggerated cleavage. She shamelessly poked her posterior out, cycling on the promo exercise bike charismatically. Rent was due, so she worked the shoot and left the team happy. There was a potential candidate for a publicist waiting for her back at Bad Talent headquarters, which was an anomaly, because no one wanted to work with Jream. Cordelia was most certainly running late, but they would understand once she arrived, that she did want to be on time.
"Thank you, Sandra." Ryan called from her desk as she picked up the phone and tapped the blinking red light before picking up the phone. "This is Royce."
"Miss Royce! It's Derek Sanders!" The voice of the other side was energetic and loud. Two things Ryan didn't like and she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from spitting sarcasm at the man. He had been calling her for the last three months, almost once a week after he'd sent her a plethora of contracts, followed by revised contracts and different monetary offers. "Have you gone over the new contract yet?"
"I'm going over the paperwork right now, actually." Ryan tilted her head as she flipped through the contract that the president of the company had sent her. Regardless of their numerous offers, the salary they were offering her wasn't enough when she could make just as much doing freelance work. "I'm not seeing much bait on the hook here, Mr. Sanders. Why should I join the Bad Talent team when I can make just as much money on my own? I've been in very high demand recently. What's stopping me from taking a contract with SIG?"
The man on the other line mumbled something to another person and Ryan sighed softly as she sat back in her plush leather chair. As of right now, Ryan was only working out of a small office with her secretary and two office assistants. Would she love to go work for a larger company? Of course, but only for the right price and the right clients. Ryan enjoyed a challenge, and luckily for her, BT had a declining reputation due to one of their big earners. Cordelia Halo, better known as Jream. She was a fast burning star when she started out as a pop idol and the celebrity life got the better of her. The singer had several incidences on social media where she was exposed for being verbally abusive to her staff and spending nights out getting black out drunk. Because of this, Bad Talent had to pull her back and try and revamp her image. Ryan was almost positive Cordelia was the reason they wanted her to join their company so vehemently.
"I just talked to our financial advisor," Derek said, sounding a little defeated. "The best we can offer is one-ten a year."
Ryan rubbed her chin in thought as she looked over the contract in front of her. They gave her a lot of freedom. Access to every client at BT and every social media account they had. Paid time off and very good insurance, not to mention a company car. She hummed softly, if anything just to add more suspense and stress to Mr. Sanders. Ryan could practically hear him fidgeting in his chair as she tapped her fingers against her desk to bide some time.
"All right." An audible sigh from Mr. Sanders, followed by a hearty laugh before Ryan spoke again. "Get a revised contract ready and I'll stop by your office in an hour."
"Fantastic!" He practically shouted before hanging up.
Ryan hung up the phone with a roll of her eyes before sitting back, the chair creaking lightly and the leather groaning. She carefully packed her things into her shoulder bag before leaving her office and bidding farewell to her staff. A quick trip home for a shower, with a freshly pressed suit was what was needed before she made her way down town to the massive campus where a tall, reflective skyscraper stood in the center. Bad Talent didn't lack funds, that was obvious. Subtlety? Clearly.
"I have a meeting with the president." She told the receptionist before the young woman could open her mouth.
"Top floor."
"I know." Ryan just said as she passed. She knew where it was she had been give a tour the first time that Derek Sanders had come courting months ago. She made her way to the brass, mirror finished elevator doors and hit the 'up' button, surprised the doors parted almost immediately.
The young woman pressed the button for the twentieth floor and the doors closed before the carriage jolted lightly, the whirring of the gears indicating its upward movement. The elevator music was...elevator music. She thought for sure they'd be playing some of their clients' biggest hits, but was happy they weren't. When the doors slid open, a wall of water greeted her that fell from the ceiling to a small pool below. Black marble lined the floor and Ryan looked around before hearing the faint tapping of dress shoes.
"Miss Royce!" Derek Sanders, and possibly his whole legal team rounded the corner with smiles on their faces. "Please, come into my office. I think you'll be satisfied with the contract."
"I do hope so." Ryan adjusted her shoulder bag and followed the president to a large set of cherry wood doors that opened to his ostentatious office. The whole back wall was floor to ceiling windows with plush ivory carpet with a little shag. His desk was massive. Much larger than a single person needed and he sat in his oversized office chair before flourishing to the leather seat across from him. Ryan sat down before he slid a large folder across the mahogany surface towards her and a good plated ball point pen.
"Take your time, of course." And she did. Ryan spent the better part of twenty-five minutes going over the contract and going over it again until she was satisfied with what she had read. The salary was beyond acceptable and the perks were sufficient. She even got to go choose her company car and keep her staff. They must really need some work done at the company.
"Everything looks in order." Ryan reached for the pen and signed her name on the lines that were tabbed with little arrow stickers. When she was finished, she closed the folder and slid it back towards Mr. Sanders. who had a broad smile on his face. He stood up and offered his hand to Ryan, who mirrored his movements and shook his hand. "So what's my first assignment?"
"Raring to go?" The president sat down and the legal team left as Ryan remained standing. "I'm sure you know of our client, Jream, or Cordelia Halo? Well, we want to repair her image and try and get her back on track. I'm sure you're aware of her...public downfalls."
Somehow Ryan knew this was going to be the first 'mission' she'd tackle at BT. She wasn't surprised, but she wasn't happy about it. At the very least she thought she would take over the company's social media first, but why not try and handle their biggest liability? She couldn't help the sigh that escaped as she sat back down and folded her arms over her chest. Ryan wasn't sure what exactly had caused Cordelia to go off the rails, but she was pretty confident she could either sweep it under the rug, or possibly fix it.
The media’s most important people lived in Twin Dixie. Some of the bell-ringing names behind record publishing companies like ‘B sharp’ and ‘The Boom Room’ owned estates and offices in the bustling city, attracting tourists and the like. The potential that you, or your grandmother were discovered in a mall were low, but casting calls for talent agencies and film roles were in abundance. It was the reason naive starlets and inexperienced actors relocated to the city, for a chance at fame. Once upon a time, Cordelia was running from show to show; agency to agency until her vocal skills and uninspired dance moves landed her a role in the disbanded girl group that garnered acclaim in smaller pop circles. Pre-teen gals and guys obsessed over the group, but bad management unfortunately forced them apart. With no one to manage her and only her expensive necklaces to cover her body...
Cordelia seized her career by the white-gold, hoop-earrings and waltzed into the mirror-finish skyscraper and demanded someone at Bad Talent see her. The receptionist girl; in her polka dot, silk…er, polyester top eyed her up and down. Before the girl could turn her away, Cordelia rolled her eyes and approached the elevator. Oh, she was boarding it before the front-desk girl could pop her cinnamon bubble gum and say stop. Three hours with Derek Sanders and she signed her name in gel-ink for half a million dollars and an advance for her first single.
Five chart topping singles and Cordelia’s music touched far and wide; creating a household name and star. At the zenith of Cordelia's career she was an unstoppable ace, any agent or company would be foolish to turn her away. Six singles later, and Cordelia’s snow-white, faux-fur lined demonia boots silently padded on the reflective floor. If not for the oversized cat eye frames masking her soul-prying gaze, then her partially concealed resting-bitch-face threatened anyone that stared at her for long.
“Miss Halo.” The receptionist who once shook her down and evil-eyed her from afar pranced over like an overzealous pony - as if she dangled a carrot between her stiletto shaped, white nails just to attract her. Where most people stilled and swatted the receptionist girl away - Cordelia’s recently filled pout upturned, and her shoulders relaxed.
“Baby cucumber and pomegranate infused water, like always.”
“Thanks, Gen.” It wasn’t short for anything either, just Gen. Cordelia liked to think Gen’s parents meant to name her Genovoia or Geneveve, but they forgot to finish filling out the birth certificate. Gen’s twinkling, marvelous green irises with little flecks of blue in them were spellbinding, and Cordelia envied her slim bone structure, and hospitality. “You are my favorite, you know that?” Cordelia wished she could be half as nice as Gen. She tried it…once, and her stomach churned at how vulnerable and dirty she felt after being kind to a server. With Gen, there was no pretension, no friendship. She often ruminated - what sort of angels raised Gen to be so kind-natured?
“It would appear I’ve kept them waiting too long.” Cordelia adjusted the shoulder strap on her purse; fluffy and pristine white - just like the baby doll dress hugging her elegant waist and dancing like water at her inner thighs. Melodic vibrating and muffled movement pulled her towards her handbag. She scowled, an adverse reaction to possibly picking up her phone. Cordelia knew who hit her line without the caller ID, and she wasn't going to pick up when the door to the office was five minutes away. Fucking Derek. “I promise I have a good excuse for running late.”
And she did.
Laggardly entering the HQ office, Cordelia’s glacaus blue irises danced over her accomplice’s expressions, then over a Ryan Royce. Lifting her chest and pulling in a breath, Cordelia smirked. “Oh. I’m only…five, ten… heavens, fifteen minutes late and you’re all glaring at me like I forgot all about you.” Well, I didn’t.
Ryan wasn't expecting the president to call on Jream so soon after signing her contract. As soon as the words had been spoken, he was already on the phone trying to contact the idol. Not that it bothered her at all. The sooner that she could get to work on this train wreck, the better. Ryan had cleaned up a lot of reputations in her short career, but she prided herself on being thorough and efficient. Cordelia Halo was going to be a different project. It wasn't just one incidence that had spiraled her career out of control, it was a chain of events that snowballed into a media frenzy, and the public ate it up shamelessly. In this new age of technology, it didn't take long for Cordelia's toxic behavior to spread across the globe.
"This is just like her." Derek was pacing his office, his face skewed into an anxious grimace as he stared down at his phone. He had attempted to call her several times, leaving at least four voicemails before giving up and fuming about the situation. "She's lucky she doesn't get dropped."
"I'd imagine you'd lose a lot of money if you let her go." Ryan said as she folded her arms over her chest and she watched the man pace. "From what you've told me, you invested quite a bit to get her started. I'll be sure to make a note about her punctuality."
As soon as the words left her mouth, the door opened and in walked Cordelia, a smirk blooming on her lips when she spotted Ryan. The woman had to resist glaring, though that was her default look with anyone she worked with since they were usually elitist in some way. Of course she didn't want to give away that she remembered Cordelia from school. Honestly, Derek may not have offered her the job if he knew, so for the time being, she would keep quiet and do what she did best.
"So glad you could join us finally, Jream." The president ground out as he combed his fingers through his hair and sat down at his desk with a light huff. "Now that you're here, I'd like to introduce you to our new publicist, Ryan Royce. She's going to be helping you get your act together so we can get you back to work. I expect your full cooperation."
Ryan glanced at Cordelia and raised an eyebrow. It was strange to see her after all these years. Even though she was clearly the same woman she went to school with, she was also very different. Dark brown hair had been dyed red and her skin almost looked translucent. Ryan was aware of the physical changes that idols would go through to seem more appealing to their fans, but she could still see Cordelia for who she was, or had been. Still, making snap judgments wasn't in Ryan's playbook. A part of her job was making sure she could look past certain traits to bring out the best in her clients. Or bring out the best that they could pretend to be while their career was on the mend. Regardless, Ryan stood, walked towards the shorter woman and offered her hand.
"I look forward to working with you." Ryan said calmly as she looked into Cordelia's blue eyes, were they contacts? She couldn't remember what color her eyes had been in school. "Hopefully it won't be as difficult as Mr. Sanders makes it seem."
Every star has haters. Some of those haters also happen to be stars, like Derek Sanders. Best in the biz, but he angers easily and his domineering personality is overbearing to not just Jream, but other artists complain about the share-holder’s behavior. The upgrade to the meeting room was in part thanks to her debut album sales, the renovations on the elevator and lobby all in thanks to her successful singles. That stupid desk that Derek kept his hiney in - hers, but in the music industry that was the way things worked. If they let her go today, then the fancy desk and elevator stayed in the HQ. She expected less passive aggression and more gratitude from her supposed boss, but that wasn’t happening anytime soon.
Jream poked her lips out, not unlike a duckbill, as she rolled her eyes and fought her curling her mouth as Ryan Royce departed the meeting table, and sauntered on over like a reject superhero. Pbbtttt. Who does this loser think she is? The lack of jewelry, the potential off brand suit irritated her tastes for good fashion. The condescending glare and unsmiling lips put the publicist at a disadvantage. Weak, trying to seem mighty. Thankful for her sunglasses, Derek, nor Ryan could see how mundane this whole ordeal was and that Cordelia actively rolled her eyes back and forth. They were creating a fuss out of nothing.
Disenchanted by Ryan’s speech and introduction, Cordelia parted her lips to sneer, her incisors pearly white like a healthy wild cat. Her pretty lips sealed and turned up into a smug smile seconds after. “Mmm. So, he warned you about me?” Cordelia raised her wrist up to eye level and plucked her sunglasses from the bridge of her nose, allowing Ryan to better see her blue irises. They weren’t natural, not in the slightest. There was a contemplative look on Ryan’s face, not like a starstruck fan, but close to it. “Ryan, isn’t it? You are not the first, or the last publicist to waltz in here like you’re going to change my life.”
Jream was the most in-demand pop star, and if she was being honest - the controversy helped boost her streams. Sure, she was losing followers, but in the same breath gained a handful by the minute. Her covetable pictures and lifestyle kept her in-demand. “I will have you know I won’t put up with any ridiculous requests. I am not deactivating my social media, and you can not have my phone.”
Derek regarded Jream’s space, groaning in despair, or anger that Jream butted horns with the new publicist. This Ryan Royce had her work cut out for her, dispelling the rumors around Jream and elevating her image in the public eye. “Listen, Jream. We’ve already discussed it, and you’re going to hand over your phone to Ryan. After the last rant on Chatter, we want to see you take responsibility.”
Jream’s nape tinged an angry red, and her grip on the sunglasses tensed. Her shoulders rose and mouth opened, though she reconsidered the swear words that she almost vomited out. An easy going smile replaced the snarl, and Jream shoved her fist into her purse. “Okay. Is this what you want, Derek?” Jream shuddered with uncontrollable rage. Turning in her phone, fine? But being forced to do so, not okay. And, what was going to be done with it?
“No need to be upset. We will have a team managing your social media, no more midnight speeches and mimosa rants.”
From what Ryan could tell, Cordelia hadn't changed much since high school. A curse that most women their age seemed to fall prey to as they got older and had to confront that horrifying fact of being less relevant. The pop idol was no different in that sense. She was stuck in a bubble that refused to move forward in time and hence, her maturity level was still lacking in the adulting department. Unfortunately the fame and grandeur only seemed to feed Cordelia's ego, giving her an even bigger head than she was already born with. Of course this was common for most celebrities, not just pop idols. At least the ones that Ryan would deal with on a regular basis who needed a "revamp" of their social image. After not seeing Cordelia after six years, other than the odd television performance or interview, she was starting to wonder if this job was going to be as lucrative as she thought. But the contract was signed, there was no backing out now.
"I'm not going to change your life, Miss Halo." Ryan tilted her head to the side a touch as she raised an eyebrow at the shorter woman. "You're going to change it. It's more authentic when the person in question can turn their image around on their own. I'm here to help you with that. The first step is going to be getting you off social media for an undetermined amount of time."
At that moment, Jream had bitterly fished out her phone from her purse and thrust it in Derek's direction. Ryan intercepted, however, and took the phone as gently as she could before the president could snatch it from the idol. Ryan didn't need a team, she was confident she could handle this situation herself. More people would just create a larger mess for her to clean up in the long run anyways. She looked at the lock screen of the zPhone 18 Max, a zoomed in pic of a fluffy peach colored cat with a pink color encrusted with crystals.
"I think I'll be fine handling this on my own." Ryan glanced at Derek with a serene smile and a nod of her head before looking at the phone again and swiping her thumb along the tempered glass. Most of the apps were for social media, a few shopping apps, and food delivery. Nothing out of the ordinary for someone their age. "No password, convenient for me." She clicked the lock button on the phone and looked at Cordelia before shoving the phone in her shoulder bag. "It would help if you can walk me through what a normal day is like for you, Miss Halo. Then we can start to look at where we can begin to launch new social media posts and videos. For now, I think it's best if you post a video saying that you're going on a 'self healing' hiatus."
The masses ate up self care routines of any kind when it came to overworked individuals. Ryan turned towards the door then, she was ready to start working on Jream's image as soon as possible for the fact that it was going to take a long time to clean up. It wasn't just the image that needed to be rearranged, it was her whole way of living and her attitude that needed a good scrubbing. If she could see how Cordelia functioned throughout the day, she could start picking things here and there that she could start changing. Either her morning routine or what she decided to wear for the day. Small things like that can set a mood that could affect your attitude. It was possible to nip some of the bad habits that had come along with fame and notoriety.
"Why don't you take me to your house first?" Ryan looked over her shoulder with a smug grin. "You can give me a tour. I'll even drive you, if you like."
Cordelia entered a quiescent state and accepted her unfortunate fate; proudly pulling her shoulders back. A straight and to the point woman like Ryan Royce handled matters speedily - a fine disposition for a new publicist. Back to the question at hand. Cordelia snapped to attention, remembering that she currently hated Derek, the record execs and by proxy, Ryan ticked the top of her shit-wishlist. She white-knuckled her pocketbook strap as Ryan creeped on the contents of her phone. No mention of the popular lesbian dating app, KissFinder on the tenth page of her apps folder?
Sweat drops. Safe.
“A self-healing message?” Cordelia opened her mouth and pointed to the back of her throat in a provocative display of ‘not happening’. Her lips sealed perfectly, and her hands rested on the curve of her hips. A disrespectful suggestion like that warranted a roll of the eyes. “I’m actually being held hostage by sociopaths. Do you want my fans to think I’m in rehab?” She clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth, her stiff shoulders loosening up as Derek and his other cronies stalked past her and left her alone with Ryan.
Cordelia mulled over her new venture into the unknown with the classy, but plain-jane Ryan Royce. Stroking her sumptuous purse as if it was her precious kitten, Cordelia ceased in her motions and her brows pinched together in a scowl. “How about drinks first?” Cordelia’s aura of reproach melted into that of a royal, a serpentine extension of her wrist as her fingers dawdled up Ryan’s arm. “I know just the place - Come on.”
A refined lady at heart, certain standards needed to be met before promises of home tours could be fulfilled. Ocean-gray irises beckoned for the vertically advantageous woman to follow her, a moderate pace; easy to follow as Cordelia led the way in all but silence. One of her favorite bops played on the overhead radio, and she sang the whole way down and into the parking garage. Cordelia wondered if the vehicle was a perk of Ryan’s contract, or if it was a lease. The publicist didn’t appear the type to drive luxury sports cars. Cordelia watched the doors slide upwards, and she dipped her head and bent at the waist to sit her bare thighs on the sleek leather.
“To Black Cat lounge.”
Cordelia unfolded the sun visor, her gloss in dire need of a touch up. She fished in her purse for her cyclindrical glitter-goop container, and applied a generous layer. “Trust me, you don’t want to be caught dead with chapped lips. The photos are unforgiving.” Cordelia shot Ryan a warning look, and settled into her seat. She was unwilling to divulge anything more than a word here or there, and only lit up when the car was back in park. "Did I mention we're meeting my girlfriends here?" Two, to be exact. Florence and Wilhemina. Cordelia flashed a guiltless smile as she looped her arm around Ryan's, sashaying down the sidewalk with the woman in tow.
Ryan didn't expect Cordelia to comply without any pushback when it came to the social media changes. She was more than prepared to handle anything the idol would throw at her, but, to her surprise, there wasn't any yelling or any threats of physical violence. Just a passive aggressive comment and a death glare when the shorter woman's cell disappeared into her bag. The publicist would take more time to cleanse the device later when she had time to record everything and could change the passcode. When Jream mentioned rehab, Ryan tilted her head as a thought began to bloom in her mind. Something she noted and pushed aside in case things got more difficult along the way.
"Rehab might not be a bad idea." Ryan muttered, more to herself than to Jream at all. "That would show your fans that you're dedicated to bettering yourself and moving forward in a positive light. Of course, we can discuss that later." Any conversation after that was dominated by the pop star and the mention of drinks, not to mention the touch on her arm that didn't go unnoticed. Before she could even protest, Cordelia had dragged her out of the building at a shocking pace to the parking garage. Since she was going to have no say, she retrieved the key fob from her bag and unlocked the car, allowing the idol to get in.
"The Black Cat Lounge, hm?" The publicist knew the club, was even a patron now and again. She was more than a bit surprised when Cordelia directed her towards the destination, considering it had quite the reputation. Regardless, Ryan started her car and exited the parking garage, merging onto the street in the direction of the Black Cat Lounge. She couldn't help but check on Cordelia every now and then as they made their way down the busy streets. Happening a glance at the sparkling gloss that adhered to the idol's lush lips and Ryan turned her attention back to the road to avoid getting caught.
The lounge, at this time of day, was surprisingly busy. Though not enough to where Ryan had any trouble finding a spot along the street in front of the establishment. As soon as the vehicle shifted into park, Jream was already out of the car and Ryan followed, the horn beeping once to alert that it was locked. The mention of meeting friends caused a dull pain to throb once behind Ryan's eyes. Of course Cordelia was meeting friends, she'd probably had this planned before she even knew that she was meeting the publicist. Still, that just meant more opportunities for social media mishaps and Ryan couldn't attempt try and control the friends' phones.
"You conveniently left that out." Cordelia was touchier than Ryan thought she'd be, but she probably didn't have any idea who she was anyway. Probably a tactic the idol used to get her way. So she allowed the red head to pull her into the club as the bouncer opened the door.
The interior of the Black Cat Lounge was modern, no windows and multicolored lights over the bar and crushed velvet booths. The overall lighting was dim and the thrum of the music was louder than it needed to be while the sun was still shining outside. Though the club successfully gave the impression that the day had already ended and the regular patrons of the establishment weren't concerned with anything going on outside of the concrete walls. Ryan continued to follow Jream straight to the bar, which was the brightest area of the club, as well as the busiest. The idol's friends must not have arrived yet, or at least she had not found them, since Cordelia paid no particular attention to any of the women around the bar. Though she herself was drawing attention. Ryan saw women pulling out their mobile phones and whispering amongst themselves. Great.
"Can I get you something?" Gray eyes glanced at the bartender who was clad in in bright pink tube top and black pleather pants. Might as well drink since they were there and for who knew how long she'd have to stay.
"Scotch, neat." The bartender just nodded as Ryan pulled some cash from her wallet and slid it towards the woman. When her drink arrived, she sipped it slowly, savoring the smoky flavor before glancing at Cordelia. "So, do you and your friends come here often?" It would be a lie to say that Ryan wasn't curious as to why Cordelia would be coming to this particular club, unless it was just naivety and her first time, but she highly doubted that. "I would've thought you would go to clubs that had more..." Ryan's eyes scanned the crowd, not a man in sight. "Variety."
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