Blue: Are you picking me up tonight?

Yellow: would if i could. this poor artist doesnt have a car

Blue: Want me to pick you up? Or do you want to meet there?

Yellow: meet there. i live out of the way of where were going

Blue: And where are you taking me to?

Yellow: Oscar's

Blue: I'm glad I chose a woman with taste. Meet there at 7?

Yellow: see you there babe

Heather bit her lip. She'd known Blue was a woman of higher class than herself, but to not even react to going to Oscar's? It was one of the most popular restaurants in Melior. Run by three brothers, they had the upper class dining market in a stranglehold.

Thankfully, Heather had money to spare. She'd sent home some, a minimized amount so her mother wouldn't come calling. She'd send more of it soon. But the leftover had been more than enough to buy an outfit and makeup for the evening. She'd be damned if she didn't impress Blue.

Now came the part where she spent the next four hours worrying over how the evening would go.

The subway rolled to a stop and Heather still hadn't shaken her nerves. She stepped out through the doors among a crowd of people dressed richly, far above Heather's status. But it was a part to play and Heather always thought of herself a good actor. No one looked twice at her. They were too busy staring at her breasts.

Luckily she need not suffer it for long. Oscar's wasn't far from the station. Heather shivered, the breeze biting into her bare legs. Stupid fashion not covering things.

Though that certainly wasn't what she was thinking when she bought it. After all, Heather remembered the look on the girl's face when she asked for an outfit with a deeper neckline. She liked the idea of making Blue stare.

Heather stepped into the restaurant and gave her name for the reservation. Blue knew to ask for her name. She'd not paused to consider if Blue would beat her there, but a quick check to her messages said she hadn't.

The waiter left her at the table to wait for her date. Their table was in the back, tucked away from the noise of the rest of the establishment. A small bribe had secured the table for their evening.

"Heather?"

The unfamiliar voice saying her name had her flicking her eyes up. And her jaw dropping.

She had been ready for her date to look like anything. It was Blue's personality that had her swooning, her qualities as a foil to Heather. She'd been ready for perhaps a snobby upper class woman or anything really.

She hadn't been ready for Lucia fucking Delbray.

"Is this seat taken?" Lucia asked, her expression a poker face. Her voice quivered, wracked with a tremor. Her only tell.

"You're hot," Heather said, the words slipping out. She wasn't capable of thought, too taken with the blue haired woman who moved with an elegance Heather thought was only reserved for TV.

"I'll take that as a no," Lucia said through a chuckle, tension releasing in her body. She sat down, fingers playing with the menu for any semblance of a distraction. She stared at Heather, waiting for her to say something.

"I knew you were wealthy, but I never took you for nobility." Part of Heather was hurt, hurt that the woman she'd been getting involved with romantically had hidden something from her.

The hurt feeling meshed with hypocrisy.

But far more of Heather was pleased with the circumstances. Interesting and gorgeous? Sign a girl up, please.

Lucia flashed a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry about that. I've had plenty of suitors ready to marry for my last name rather than my first. I didn't want to mess anything up."

"Apology accepted," Heather grinned. "Us artists have to been accepting people, after all." The lie soured on her tongue. It wasn't completely a lie though. She was an artist of her own right.

Lucia leaned forward and Heather resisted looking below her neck. "I must say, you're far more…" She searched for a word.

"What?"

"Roguish than I expected. I like it."

The waiter returned, interrupting them. He introduced himself as the owner's youngest brother, Rolf, and promised they wouldn't be bothered for the duration of the evening save for himself. Heather thanked Lady Luck for having her back again. Had she not reserved the private table, the entire city would have known she was on a date with Lucia Delbray.

Their orders placed, Rolf left. Loath to waste a moment of the evening, Heather launched into the next topic of conversation. "Recovering from those busy days of work?"

Lucia sighed. "I'd rather not talk about it, if that's alright with you. At least not now."

Heather nodded. "Fair enough."

"I feel like I'm at a disadvantage here," Lucia said, recovering immediately. "You've no doubt seen me in the news and know who I am, so I want to know you better."

"I'm not a huge fan of keeping up with current events and the like, but I get you." Heather launched into a summary of her life, leaving out the parts about her living situation, career choice and the types of people she dealt with.

In hindsight, she gave Lucia almost nothing. She could tell Lucia picked up on it too.

But the noblewoman didn't pry. Instead, she turned the conversation to something much more trivial. Heather breathed relieved.

Their food came and went, the dialogue never letting up. Rolf stopped coming by to ask how they were, realizing he would only get ignored.

"Let me," Lucia said, reaching for the bill.

The selfish side of Heather, which admittedly was a large part, wanted to let her. But dammit, she wouldn't ruin the first good thing to happen to her in a long time like this.

"No way, babe," Heather swatted Lucia's hand away. "You can take care of next time…if that's not too eager?"

Lucia laughed. "You're not the only one. I think we can agree to a second date."

She wanted to shout from the rooftops. Instead she settled for: "I suppose you can't resist my charm. It's alright, no one can. Not even me."

Her date rolled her eyes. "Humble. Duly noted."

She let herself fall back on her bed, uncaring about the wrinkles that would no doubt get in her dress. Heather felt giddy, the desire to laugh uncontrollably was too great. She succumbed.

While her wallet was lighter, Heather felt good. Life was good. She was on top of the world.

Her euphoria clouded her from seeing an envelope slide under her door.