Chapter 2: Building Tension
The chatter of the backstage area fades into a distant mumble as Frye swishes open the heavy velvet curtain to the empty dressing room. She had a few hours to kill before their next performance, and she was determined to make the most of them. Clumps of mascara litter the floor, a messy reflection of the hours spent transforming faces into painted idol perfection.
Frye's heartbeat quickens with a sudden clarity of purpose as she shuts the door with a subtle thud, exhaling heavily.
The dim light casts interesting shadows on Shiver's pale features. An air of curiosity hangs between them, and Frye is unafraid to indulge.
"I see how it is," Frye growls, advancing toward Shiver. "You're the type who tears others down to feel good about yourself."
Shiver's eyebrow quirks up, not entirely expecting such a direct confrontation.
"And you react to that by attacking my body?" Shiver tilts her head back, regarded Frye with a coy smile.
"Oh, that forehead of yours. I could build a house on it, easily. Might even have room for a pool."
Frye's face burns, and her hands ball into fists at her side. She feels an ache in the pit of her stomach—it's a familiar feeling that always bubbles up when someone taunts her forehead.
"Enough!" she shouts, grabbing Shiver by the shoulders and pinning her against the door. Their eyes are locked, and Frye feels a strange, magnetic pull towards her. She wants to hurt Shiver, but she also wants something else—something she doesn't quite understand.