Smoke And Mirrors ***completed***

Chapter 3.

Whether it was from the fictional character Carrie Bradshaw, to real life icon Marie Carrie or coco channel with their killer fashion sense and out of the world  elegant styles, Honey swan was pretty sure she wasn't bad off fashion wise.
Well, you either  knew fashion or didn't and to Honey there wasn't any doubt where she fell. After all she hadn't become a bona fide supermodel without the sixth sense of fashion.
Modelling was a precarious job as any if not worse, inspiring little confidence but to Honey three years is all she needed.
Thinking about her future never failed to make her give a thought, no matter how fleeting, to her past.
Sure, nothing that had happened since she was a teenage  did anything but reinforce her conviction that the world was a strange cruel place. Nevertheless with her reckless Passion for life that overruled all else  she had dared to dream. She was a risk taker, the type to stand in quick sand and see how fast she would sink crazy.  
She had been called an Angel by  many men but to survive, in her experience she had had to have some devil in her. It always made her laugh that despite her grandpa's efforts to the  contrary he had never broken her.

She was a flame red haired smashing beauty with an oval face that was angelic with its enchanting brown eyes, round smooth cheeks, a full soft mouth and a small streamlined nose.
Dusky soft flawless skin and a body that was best described as walking wet dream.
The full package was to die for.

She would have loved to believe she wasn't a product of her country and parenthood. Half Cajun,half Czech with a drop of German blood but she knew better. She was as fickle, capricious and erratic as they came.

Make changes regarding your life and direction you wish to keep on top of your career expectations.
Be primed to use your intellect and make the most of everything and above all be imbued with loving feelings towards everyone.

Daisy recited the horoscope that had shaped her life as her eyes swept the dressing room through a filigree of bangs.
The atmosphere redolent of perfume and hair sprays, to the accessories ranging from the messy sea of cosmetics, bottles of shampoos, makeup kits, full length mirrors, racks of clothes down to the models themselves.

"Ooh my God! Ooh my God! I have varicose veins. I have varicose veins. There goes my career. " Emma Simpson who always begun all her sentences with ooh my God ooh my God and had knack of repeating everything she said shrieked in horrified conviction, " isn't eighteen too young for varicose veins?"

She asked no one in particular spinning around with jerky motions.
She was also high spirited, high strung, high maintenance not to add a high flier. And definitely high on something judging by her red puffy nose. You just didn't come by all that energy naturally without some drugs Honey thought smiling as Emma went on shrieking in her high voice. Did I also mention she was also high voiced too?

"Get a grip! God! can't someone  have a moment a peace in this hell hole."

Dawn foxx, an Irish beauty  with bitchy proclivity, a propensity for dramatics and hell bent on pugnacity not to add of genteel superiority, harrumphed cat walking in her spiky heels - she was always cat walking as if she is always on the runway - with that impatient, frustrated what-is-the-wrong-with-the-world expression on her beautiful face she always wearing perpetually.

"Bitch!"

She mumbled as she came to stand in front of the mirror next to Honey.
There was a word  for ladies like foxxy Lady and she had just taken it from her mouth.