In Over Her Head by Elsie Russell - Parnasse.com

up the street to the shoe store where Max slipped Penny's foot into a
pair of pointy-toed elf princess mules with spiky Lucite heels.
They stumbled back to the studio, where Maia was in middance
lesson. Real bump and grind. He was in middle of catching her
through his legs as they came in, but his hand slipped when he saw
Penny, and Maia landed flat on her backside. Everybody laughed
nervously and Sandro and Maia quickly went upstairs to change into
their party clothes. Ula stepped into her bathroom and changed, door
open, into her dress, the first brightly colored item anyone had ever
seen her wear. She came out dabbing extra patchouli under her armpits
and beneath the diamond choker in the notch of her collarbones,
wordlessly cursing Penny's fantastical slippers.
The white limo's interior was in shades of ivory, down to the
shag carpet. Sandro wore his New Year's tux with nothing underneath
and when he leaned forward she could see his nipple. Ula's own pale
nipples peeked out now and then from the deep V of her neckline.
Maia was all blinged out in gold lamé, and even her cleavage was
sprinkled with iridescent gold powder, her celebrated breasts concealed.
The conversation bubbled awkwardly all the way uptown.
They got out and walked up the red carpet to the club as
anabolic black studs kept the crowd at bay behind the purple velvet
ropes. Hands reached up out of the crowd with digital cameras, micro
video cams, even bulky telephoto Nikons. Amongst the muscle-men
stationed along the rope and inside the club were the pros, scanning,
elbowing for a prime spot, inconspicuously dressed in black. Barely
contained hysteria reigned. And the word was out, that Princess Purple
and Max were together at last. The tabloids held their breath.
Penny floated down the red carpet, her shoulder crushed
beneath Max's grip. Luckily, Sandro's measured steps were just behind
her.
Lights flashed everywhere inside in the cavernous club, many of
them from cameras but also from lasers and video wall screens. A low
pulse started shaking her bones. No, it couldn't be! Instrumentals
enhanced with deep synthesized E.L.F. No one seemed to notice, but
Penny in her fog waited for the bodies to fall. She had a drink from a
passing tray to steady herself, purple haze be damned. Max held her
close, his mauve silk shirt open to the waist. His gold chains thumped
and slapped against his burnished chest. The swarm slammed
mindlessly against each other, one eye on the star dancing with his
mysterious throb, the girl he'd named his guitar after. She caught a
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