Black high-platform heels, strong thick ankles, soft shaved skin, Channel N5 perfume, surgical tape holding what´s between the legs and needs to be hidden; tight corset, velvet black hot pants, red glittered lips, green eyes, long eyelashes (fake), long perfectly delineated legs, great rock hard ass, flat stomach, wide shoulders, long dark straight hair, cherry mouth and a sweet sensual attitude towards men. "She" was a total living and walking fantasy for some "particular" men.
The high-spirited noise outside the dressing room was elevating the mood and forcing the stars to get more nervous as the coming out signal was getting closer to due. Diva screams and affectations that simulated delicate hands but with some irrefutable macho slips.The show is about to start, the house is full; they all came to see her, the main star.
Techno music in the background, playback of one of the star of the moment´s song, perfect choreography, screams of excitement in the crowd, drugs in the restrooms, kisses in the darkness, shadows rubbing against each other, sex in the air, drunkenness, unconsciousness, happiness.
The show is over after one hour and a half, the bartender starts to pour more cocktails; sex in the beach, mojitos, rum, cubalibre, bourbon. A lighter in the dark strikes the tip of a cigarette, the lipstick mark stains the tip of the filter, a puff of smoke plays with a lover´s face, smiles, manhood erected. It is judgment time. The hunter stalks under the lights. One smile goes, another one comes back, flirtation stares, the prey bites the bait. The luck is served. The sky closes in dark clouds. God wipes.
Her name was Ana Fulana (her artistic name, no one ever knew her real name) she was a hardly 18 years old "girl" considered an upraising star in the night entertainment. The animals of the dark came by thousands to see her performing at the most famous gay club in the city. She was found dead and cut into pieces inside two suitcases by a main street of Bogota.
After several days in the morgue and not being claimed by any relatives or boyfriend or any friend, she was put inside plastic bags and buried in some anonymous hole in a wall. Sent to the neverending solitude. Sent alone and forgotten to a place where the lights are turned off. Her spark was out.
She had bowed, smiled and left the stage. No one remembers her now. No one honors her name and art. No one cries her departure.
Another one will take her place and another one will have to see the face of death ... eventually....
They are easy to please with one smile. They all are easy to convince and get their attention. They all go anywhere a thick cock will take them. Cocks are for them as flames are for moths. They go willingly to their dead. That makes it easier for me...
They don´t even know.. They don´t even imagine... they just want me so bad.. they don´t see me coming ... to their necks with my axe.
How about a glass of champagne now? The world is better off ... the world is better off... and I won´t stop until the hunger is gone...
*First excercise draft for a series*
Mauricio Betancourt 2010 ©