by Jack Vantage
“Boys, boys, boys—they better be ready for me,” Lecodia replied. “But maybe.”
“Jack has really hit the spot lately,” Lexine said.
“Oh yeah? How’s that?” Deve asked.
“I haven’t been to bed with someone who has been so good at making me scream,” Lexine explained. “He can just keep it up for hours. I’ve gone about ten times before we finish.”
“I don’t like that,” Xandu said. “I’d much rather it slow and just right. If he goes for too long, I just lie there. I hate it.” Xandu rolled over and cringed with pleasure. “It’s so nice when it’s slow, sensual, and loving.”
“Is it big or little?” Deve asked.
“It’s nice and modest,” Lexine said giggling again.
Everyone joined.
“I know. I heard,” Deve said.
“Hey he’s mine now. I think I really like him. I might ask him to take the relationship more seriously, take it somewhere,” Lexine said.
The giggling subsided.
“Lexine Hart, getting serious. Oh boy he must be good,” Deve said.
“I like intimate relationships,” Xandu said from the background.
“You’ve had years of experience with that,” Deve replied.
“Sorry, but lovemaking is so much better when you actually love the person,” Xandu said faithfully and sweet as sugar.
“Guys are there for one thing—satisfying!” Lexine said.
“We all saw Dylan looking at you in class. So, what do you think?” Deve asked.
“He asked me out, but I think he’ll just scandal my image,” Lecodia said.
“It’s way too early to be interested, but I like the fact that a guy is looking already. And he’s cute but is he my type? Actually, no way, I only just got here, too soon. If I said yes to him, I’d then cancel. Does he have a girlfriend?”
“Dylan?” Deve said. “Are you kidding? He’s way to quiet. The guy’s great in Intake, but he keeps to himself outside,” Deve replied.
“He’s had one or two girlfriends. Fredu and he are pretty good friends, but nothing serious for some time. Leon is his best friend. He’s with him sometimes,” Xandu said.
Dylan was cute, and he seemed lovely, a charming young gentleman, but he needed to be kept at arm’s length. She wanted the best guy for her plans. Someone like Dylan was for life, the guy you settled down with like a cuddly bear you hugged when a child. Dylan was for that kind of girl. Lecodia required a popular Elysees intaker to begin her book of relationships with, like a footballer, a champ. The right someone who could open endless contacts within the data building, like a famous, worshipped star, someone who had the credentials, the reputation and the life. Dylan seemed small, quiet, and too god damned cute to be of any use to her.
“He was persistent and confident. He is good looking. I said I’d see him at the club as not to upset anyone already,” Lecodia said.
“So, your Quazar virginity could be lost tonight then?” Deve said.
The girls giggled.
Lexine stood up unexpectedly. “I know what we need to start the night off. Time for fucking alcohol, some bubbly I have been saving for this moment.”
Lexine hopped from the bedroom, leaving the three girls on the bed.
“If Jack and Lexine wander away with other people tonight, Lecodia, don’t worry. They have an open relationship. They haven’t yet gotten that serious,” Xandu explained. “Although I don’t get it.”
“No worries. If that’s the way they like it, then that’s the way it is,” she replied.
Lexine arrived with a bottle of bubbly in hand, and four light purple flutes.
“Hold.” Lexine handed a flute to everyone and folded the bottle top foil open.
With one squeeze the chrome cork popped out and the drink showered. Lexine swiftly placed the bottle to her lips and drank the foaming liquid.
“Give me some of that, girl,” Deve said holding out her flute.
Lexine filled each glass with the bubbly drink.
“To the new millennium and a new year, let this year be better than the rest, and may there be more parties and men than ever!” Deve said with flute in air.
“To Lecodia. May she be happy and find a cock that satisfies!” Lexine said as they clinked the glasses together giggling.
“Hey Lecodia, we’ll use the artist for tonight!’ Xandu said.
“The artist?” Lecodia replied.
Lexine bounced upright and cross-legged. “You haven’t used the artist?”
“No. What is it?”
“It’s the ultimate makeup machine, anything you want,” Lexine said. “Come on we’ll get started.”
One by one the girls stood and walked with Lexine. With drinks in hand, they entered a door that faced on the opposite wall.
A large bathroom gleamed with ceramic blue and white patterned tiles. A chrome hot tub flowered from the floor. Beside it was an open shower and a chrome sink. The toilet disappeared into a wall. Next to the hot tub another door blended into the wall with just a handle marking its position. Lexine headed there.
“This is the bathroom, Lecodia,” the host said as she led them through.
“You have a nice place,” Lecodia said.
“I made my parents rent me it. I said I wouldn’t go through Intake unless they did. Parental blackmail has its advantages!” Lexine said, opening the door.
The new room was walled with the same colour and texture of the bathroom, but two seated machines were positioned centre of the small square hideaway. Mirrors circled the room’s top half, with units running under.
Lexine walked up to the nearest machine and sat in its padded pink chair. Above Lexine a movable silver arm held a helmet with a visor at its tip. The arm protruded from behind the chair, attached to it. Lexine grabbed it and positioned it in front of her.
“Lecodia this is called the artist. It puts your makeup on for you with a pixel mask. The makeup won’t run, smudge, or fade until you get back into the chair and de-pixel your skin. You can have any colour and any style you choose,” Lexine said.
“What did you use while you were travelling here?” Xandu asked.
“I had a small pixel pen. It took me an hour to do everything.”
“This baby is the bomb,” Deve said. “You can also design your own styles in your computer and send it to the artist. In Intake when the distributor thinks I’m typing, usually I’m coming up with the next look for the next night and party.”
Lexine flipped up a small screen and keyboard on the left armrest of the chair and typed a numbered code.
“Tell me what you think,” Lexine said, lowering the visor over her head.
“What you got, Lexine?” Deve said eagerly.
The visor flickered for a few seconds, then stopped with the girls reflecting in its mirrored surface.
Lexine lifted the arm and smiled at everyone. A bright, bold, tiger-patterned print covered the skin of her face, whiskers and all. Everyone started laughing.
“Grrrrrrrrrr!” Lexine growled.
“Meow!” Deve replied.
Lexine lowered the visor back down and back up again, and the pattern was erased.
“My turn,” Deve said. “Take a peek at the look for tonight. I’ve been working on it for a few weeks.”
Lexine stood up and sat on the facing row of waiting chairs with Xandu and Lecodia. Deve sat and typed her code into the keyboard, then lowered the visor.
“There are quite a few styles saved on the machine, Lecodia,” Lexine said. She handed her a colour vidi-mag with hundreds of styles and codes throughout. “Take a look, try a few, and find what suits you!”
“Thanks. This is so much easier.”
“The devil’s in the detail.”
“What do you use for your nails and toes? A pen, yeah?” Lecodia asked.
“You got it,” Lexine replied.
Deve lifted the visor. “Well, what do you think?”
A fluorescent sun-yellow and ind
igo chalk streaked diagonally up from her mouth. A hint of red was in there too. Her eyes were underlined with a shadowed deep purple, and her lips were a full pink colour. A radiant glow spilled from her smiling eyes, which were heightened by the makeup.
“Funky, Deve, funky!” Lexine said.
“I like the colour. Fun,” Xandu said.
“With the short red skirt and blue tank top I’m wearing, it will work wonders for the image.”
“Try it out, Lecodia,” Lexine offered.
“I like this look,” Lecodia said, pointing to a magazine image.
“Go get it,” Lexine said, sipping on her drink.
Deve lifted herself from the chair and Lecodia sat down. She typed the chosen code in and lowered the visor.
“Hey Lecodia, I also have a tattoo printer,” Lexine said. “We’ll give it a bash later. Remember to close your eyes.”
Lecodia thought that women were naked without makeup. When stepping into the public eye wearing no makeup was worse than wearing no clothes, a catastrophe.
With Lecodia’s eye for fashion, her makeup skills were tiptop. Colour was the key, matching colour. Like a colourful bird feathered for attention, women used make up as a calling sign. They displayed themselves in colour to attract whatever they need and wanted. Makeup, Lecodia knew, was the icing on the cake of fashion.
Lecodia closed her eyes as a dot whizzed about her eyelid in the darkness, then it stopped. She lifted the arm up and looked at the girls. “Do I look the part?” she said with her lush legs crossed and arms apart.
“God damn girl, you got the killer look,” Lexine said, taken aback.
“Give me them tits, bitch,” Deve said giggling.
Lecodia stood up and gazed into the mirror. The sight was welcomed and pleasant. Her features had been complemented, dressed, and gloriously decorated.
A light spectrum of shade ringed her eyes and softened out like a chalk smudge. A subtle pink coated her cheeks and a strong turquoise stencilled her small red lips. Lecodia had never felt so pleased, sophisticated, and mature. For the first time she looked like she’d always wanted to look, felt like she always wanted to feel. Life here on Quazar was everything she’d dreamed of; so far all had come true: the clothes, the image, and the new friends. Her ideal of being the star, being the leader, was forming. This group of girls were going to recruit an army and change the data building with a fashionista reign.
Lecodia smiled, fulfilled, and turned to the girls. “What’s the other machine for?”
It sat beside The Artist and was similar in shape. The only difference was the large basin-like bowl that dangled from its retractable arm.
“That is the Barbour. It can’t cut your hair, but it can style your hair anyway you like,” Lexine said.
“Cool. Can you program designs like The Artist?”
“Exactly the same,” Xandu said.
“I got my hair picked out for tonight, a nice cool blue with streaks of yellow. Brandon will want my baby when he looks at me,” Deve said.
“You should smack him around the head the way he behaves at times,” Xandu said.
“I know he’s got me into trouble a few times, but fuck was it fun,” Deve replied, flicking through the magazines.
“Deve is your regular bad girl, a party freak who goes underground to have fun. Don’t stray with her, Lecodia,” Xandu said.
“The best way to have fun—how can it be fun if it’s legal?” Deve replied.
“Lecodia, get in here,” Lexine said, and handed her a magazine. “Try this style.”
Lecodia sat in the chair and typed in the code. Then she lowered the bowl and held the arms of the chair firmly as the machine breezed over her.
Lecodia screamed.
The girls giggled as the bowl blew, then stopped. Lecodia lifted it and looked at everyone.
“You got hair to die for,” Xandu said. “The kind you can style.”
A computerised voice spoke over everyone. “There is someone at the door.”
“That’ll be Joan. Get the Mohicans ready. She promised to tube my hair for tonight. She’d better keep her promise.”
“Tube?” Lecodia said.
“You’ll see,” Lexine said, heading for the door. “There’s someone else I’d like to introduce you to. Someone who can keep you up all night.”
Deve looked to Lecodia. A sinister surprise lurked behind her eyes as Lexine left.
Lecodia ignored Deve and looked in the mirror. Her long silky hair ran smoothly straight. It was decorated throughout with streaks of fluorescent blue, yellow, red, pink, indigo and blueberry. Her face-framing cut was perfection. Lecodia’s look was almost complete. Her clothes were skimpy, seductive and bright, her makeup superb, and her hair a skilful style. The night was almost here. She was about to become a creature in its darkness.
When all the girls were ready, they would go to the club, her first real club, where thousands of people would gather for a party. She could let herself go, be someone different, craze to the music, become its slave. When travelling here, Lecodia would dance by herself to her favourite music. She knew how to move and flow to the rhythm, merge with its beat. She only came of age recently, so the club was all but new to her.
The time had come to be the girl she always wanted to be. Tonight, she would look a dream, and act an angel who’d do anything for her friends. She would dish out the invites to them, and recruit the group of girls who would make Elysees history by ruling the corridors with their fashion and feminism.
She felt ready for her independent life to start, ready to leave the parental nest and fly with the flock of youth. Her life was becoming clearer. She could see what she wanted and how to get it. All she had to do was work hard and never give up. But first there was a party to attend. Not just any party, but a world unification to celebrate a moment in history, and it was going to be big. The nerves were starting for Lecodia as she thought about the night ahead, and all its fun. She’d never felt so ready.
“Girls. Let’s get ready to party!” she said.
Everyone moved for their next layer of beauty as Lexine and Joan entered the room
Chapter 7
Coming Up
Six thirty p.m. and almost there! Dylan Ajax thought.
He looked at his silver digital watch. The elevator he stood in was small, a glass bubble, and it rapidly climbed the side of a towering building, with the ever-moving-city speeding past outside. The facing building’s lights blurred and trailed their storeys of light in a multi-coloured fuzzy scroll. A digital counter read three hundredth floor and rising. He still wasn’t half way there.
His gang of intaker’s stood to his side. Hammed, Leon, Brandon, Jack, Fredu, and Drake were all dressed to impress. One thing was for sure, Dylan and his crew knew how to create their identity through fashion.
Hammed wore a white pin stripe suit with a black tie and shirt, his shoes shining. He looked dashing, smart, like he’d never done before.
Leon was his usual flamboyant self with his blood-red shirt, silk trousers, and slim shades that clipped to his nose. His hair was a perfectly levelled, albino spiked flattop.
Brandon wore a stylised baggy tracksuit with a hooded top, a loud cap, and designer sneakers. He leant against the elevator glass.
Jack wore slick black trousers, a white felt designer shirt, a deep-green waistcoat, and a neat, egg-white Biltmore derby hat.
Drake’s fashion powered with a skull patterned black and white t-shirt, leather trousers and juggernaut steel capped boots. Chains dangled around his body like he was the most dangerous man alive.
Next to him Fredu wore tight black denim jeans, a tight red and yellow tank top that
clung to his wafer-thin physique, and gleaming white shoes that rounded at the toes.
The gang were ready and knew how to party in style. The key to a smooth night was composure. Never lose composure. Always play it cool. Stay together, unless luck found you in the form of a member of the opposite sex. In that
case, slip away. The millennium invited the bad boy, and he came willing and confidently.
Dylan had seen on television the size of the party in Central Park 8. It was insane. There were millions of people, all in the mood to celebrate. Not a soul on the planet would miss the millennium party. Like a spiritual gathering, the world stood together, sharing the same moment with unprejudiced opinions.
“If any of you find some fluff, I want to know if there’s excess,” Leon said out of the blue.
“Man, Deve’s there, I’m stuck,” Brandon moaned.
“That never stopped you before, you data flop!” Drake said.
“I’m turning over a new leaf. I think I love her,” Brandon said.
“Love, you don’t know what love is?” Hammed said.
“Oh, and you do?” Brandon said.
“Yes, I do. One day I will find someone, and it will be instant love. Until then I wait,” Hammed replied.
Brandon raised a brow.
“I really need a woman. I haven’t got laid for a month. I got balls like an elephant,” Leon torridly said. “They’re swelling, going to explode”.
“Lexine takes care of me, I think I want to stay with her,” Jack said.
“I get it every night without fail, sweet,” Fredu said happily.
“I hope Lecodia’s there,” Dylan said. “I asked her out and she brushed me off like dandruff.”
“Dylan, leave it to me. I’ll play cupid. She’ll fall into your arms by the end of the night,” Jack said, while placing a comforting arm around Dylan.
“Don’t help, or it’ll put her off. I’ll just be myself.”
“Put Hammed with her. She’ll run to you,” Brandon said.
“Your mother.” Hammed said.
“My mother is fine, thank you. Hammed, do you want some of this stuff?” Brandon said, and held out a palm full of blue pills. “It’ll make you feel better and boost the confidence I know is in there somewhere.”
“Get that stuff away from me,” Hammed replied disgusted. “Fucking drugs, putting a gun to your own head and pulling the trigger is all you’re doing.”.