"All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put me together again."

— The archer, Taylor Swift.

     Music flooded her body like a bittersweet symphony, wrapping around her lungs and suffocating her. Moving with the grace of a swan, she pushed her body forwards, a leg slowly raising as she willed her body into a turn. Ballet was something she'd enjoyed at first but after a while it lost its spark, it was all she knew. Her mother was the main cause for her distaste of the subject, wanting her to do better until she could no longer move. Best was not good enough in the Van Der Woodsen household and her body began to show the consequences of these ideals.

     Bruises littered her body from how far she'd pushed herself, nearing exhaustion everyday. Yet, she never stopped, she couldn't, she knew of the consequences and she feared they'd be worse than the pain she felt if she kept trying. Elara Van Der Woodsen was not a nice lady and, in fact, she'd been rumoured to be working with Tante Heleen, the owner of the Menagerie. The thought disgusted Trixie, hoping it was nothing but a nasty rumour, surely her mother wouldn't sink that low.

     The music came to a stop and the girl held her position, looking into the dark crowd as she fought against the blinding lights hitting her. Applause broke out suddenly and she wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow her. Cheers sounded, attacking her searing headache and all she could do was smile politely, bending her body into a bow. That was her single to leave the stage and head to her dressing room, letting the next act on stage.

    As soon as she was in the comfort of her dressing room she let out a sigh, dropping into her chair. Looking through the mirror, the girl stared at her reflection, wanting nothing more than to throw the reflective source out of a window, watching in satisfaction as it shattered into a million pieces on the ground. She didn't like how she looked, she despised it, but she covered it up with overly confident remarks, hoping nobody saw through her lies.

    Something about the room felt wrong and out of the corner of her eye she swore she saw the shadows move. Keeping her facade emotionless, she acted as if she hadn't seen if, as if she didn't know exactly who was lurking in the depths. Grabbing a brush, she began powdering her face, watching as the shadows remained still once again. Once she finished, she dropped the brush and looked back up at the mirror, a small smile tugging at her lips.

     "Brekker." Trixie mused, turning around in her chair to look at the man with an amused brow raised. "Any reason you're standing in the dark corners of my dressing room? Perhaps you're angry about the fact I tried to slip poison in your tea during your last visit?"

    Kaz sent her an unamused look, resting his weight on his crow cane as he cast a short look around the room. The two had an odd relationship, they'd worked together on multiple jobs, the girl's vast connections helping him out immensely, but she never officially joined the dregs. Criminals and thieves, not someone you'd expect golden girl Trixie to be associated with. She was the perfect partner, nobody ever suspected a sweet girl to slip poison in their drink when they weren't looking.

    "I'm not foolish enough to not notice your tricks, Van Der Woodsen." Kaz retorted, stepping towards the girl as she crossed her legs over one another. "I have another job, one that will pay greatly."

     "You know I don't care about money, Brekker, I have more money than you could possibly imagine." Trixie smiled sweetly, unaffected by the glare he sent because she'd stopped him mid sentence. The girl was rich, coming from an incredibly wealthy family, which is why she'd never be suspected of such acts. She didn't do what she did for her safety, she did it because it was fun and she discovered she had a talent in poisoning old idiotic men.

    "Right," Kaz swiftly moved the conversation back to what he was saying, "in order to do this job, I need you to help us into Hellgate." Trixie was amused that he seemed to doubt her capability in his words, almost as if he was uncertain he was at the correct place for this. "There's a prisoner, Matthias Helvar." He continued to explain to her and she nodded slowly.

     "I can get us in there, is tomorrow good?" Trixie questioned, tapping her finger against her thigh.

     "Yeah, don't be late." Kaz reminded her, thinking of the countless times they'd been waiting for said girl to come. Every time she'd wave him off, claiming she was fashionably late which was better than nothing.

     "When have I ever been late?" Trixie scoffed at the accusation, grinning as he raised a brow at her.

     "If I were to list them all we'd be here forever." Kaz replied in his usual tone, shaking his head as the girl let out a quiet laugh.

     "If I turned up in something hideous, I'd be completely useless and we would all end up dying." Trixie sighed, resting her head in her hands.

     "Your outfits do not reflect your ability to murder a man." Kaz told her, his gloved hands tapping against the cane he held in his grip.

     "Yes, they do! It's like the entire point to them!"

Words~932.
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