AN: New story yay! After having recently decided to get back into writing, I thought I'd try my hand at a Skins fic because let's face it... Emily Fitch and Naomi Campbell are possibly the greatest tv couple ever :D Hope you guys enjoy
Disclaimer - I don't own Skins, La Vie en Rose or Nine. Basically anything really.
Chapter 1:
The stage was awash with smoky fog, the audience taunted by the white tendrils. But this was all simply for show – distraction, as it were. The audience was too caught up in anticipation to notice the people running out into position, mere shadows in the darkness. In a sudden blaze of lights, everything seemed to spring to life. The scene was pure glitz and glamour, the ladies lining the stairs on either side of the stage, and jazz style music blasting from the speakers. A slim, petite, dark haired figure waltzed on stage with topless men perched on her arms. Her voice rang out through the music, a rich alto, with just the right amounts of throatiness. She moved among the dancers with ease, kissing some, dancing with others. There were whips, smoking, and money burnt before the audience. They gasped on cue and at times were almost embarrassed by the sexually charged performance. Naomi grinned – 1930s, eat your heart out.
"Non! Je ne regrette rien!" The singer's voice reverberated throughout the room, before she flung the bottle with pills across the stage. White tablets flew everywhere and she collapsed, the lights disappeared and the room was bathed in darkness.
Naomi leant back, a smile adorning her features. Everything had come together just as she had envisioned. The lights, the music, the dancing. It oozed sex, drugs and everything your mother taught you was wrong. But that was how she wanted it.
The audience applauded on their feet, whistling; or, if they were too classy, in their chairs, indifferent but still suitably impressed. Yes, this was what she lived for. That moment where she could see all her creations played out before her eyes and they loved her for it. Some might call it simple music, others a show with tits on display – but to her, this was her art, choreographed for the world to see. Fantastic creations turned into reality, everything coming together so beautifully. It never ceased to amaze her. Naomi stood and applauded with the rest of the crowd before making her way behind the stage to congratulate her dancers on another stunning performance.
Naomi nodded once. "Good job people, that was even better than rehearsal. Thank God. See you all tomorrow night and I expect another performance even darker and sexier than this one." Most of the dancers had dispersed already but the dark haired woman was still removing her costume.
"Hey Soph? Nice job out there, sexier than usual." Naomi grinned and gave her a hug.
The girl, Sophia, returned the hug with tired smile. "Thanks Nai, I'm gonna sleep well tonight. You gonna party it up with Effy?"
"Nah, I'm fucking knackered. She can find another fuck buddy tonight. I'll catch you later, yeah?" She flashed Sophia a smile as she took the stairs up to grab some stuff and escape the place.
Her office was a shit hole, not literally, but Naomi was starting to think it needed a clean more often than once a month. Papers and coffee mugs were strewn everywhere and carpet was, at this point in time, unidentifiable amongst the mess. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" she moaned exasperatedly, making piles of papers she needed, papers she didn't, and paper she couldn't be bothered dealing with at present. After having finally located what she needed, she flopped on the ground in exhaustion and relief flooded her body. Just lying there on the floor seemed hardly elegant but fuck it, after the week she'd had, she deserved a few minutes of down time.
"We put on a good show tonight." A tall brunette stood in the doorway and took a long drag from the fag dangling between her fingers. "Wanna help me … celebrate?"
Naomi looked up. Her business partner, sometimes fuck buddy and long-time friend: the infamous Effy Stonem. Without her, Naomi was sure she couldn't have done half the shit they'd been through. "Not tonight Eff, might turn in early for once." She stood and shoved the papers into a leather case, stopping only to give Effy a quick peck and cheeky grin. "Don't look so put out, it's not becoming. I'm sure you're more than capable of pulling someone downstairs."
"Fine," Effy shrugged. "I can't shag anyone that comes here anymore. YOU made sure of that when that slut friend of yours came back and made such a scene. We lost all the customers in the bar that day. Imagine having a repeat." She quirked an eyebrow as if to say, your move, bitch. Naomi winced. It was more than a bit embarrassing for everyone involved if she were being honest, but she wasn't going to concede to Effy Stonem of all people. With her best haughty glare she left the room, leaving the brunette smirking behind her.
It was a crisp night, not too chilly, but with enough nip in the night time air to make Naomi walk that little bit faster. Her heels clacked along the pavement in an annoying rhythm, and once again, the blonde began to question ever letting her friend decide her work clothing. If you don't dress the part, what makes you think people are going to take us seriously? Effy did have a point though, she'd noticed a dramatic rise in patronage when she started running the club in more … risqué garments. It seemed that dresses and heels impressed the lads a lot more than her usual beat up converse and jeans. Go figure.
"Oi babe! Why don'tcha come 'ere and 'ave a wee drinky wiv us boys, aye? I'll make it worth yer while!" Raucous laughter erupted from within a circle of drunken men smoking outside a pub and jolted Naomi from her wandering thoughts. She raised a finger and yelled back, "Why don't you go and fuck yourselves? Tossers!" More laughter accompanied with filthy comments, and it only served to sour her mood. Quickening her pace to get away from the disgusting males, Naomi crossed the road only a few blocks away from her apartment. It was colder now. The temparature seemed to have dropped considerably since she first set out. Funny how things seem so much more foreboding when it's cold and dark … she glanced back toward the pub, but it was too far away for her to make out now.
Two headlights appeared, blinding her instantly. She could hear the screeching of brakes, feel the pounding of blood in her body, she knew what was happening. But she was rooted to the spot, unable to move. Naomi Campbell just stood there, closed her eyes and waited for the –
So what'd you think? Yay or Nay? Lemme know and don't be shy about it, all comments will be gratefully received (also forgive any grammar, spelling mistakes etc. I'm not perfect ok?) :)