Rachyl staggered off to the side of the velvet curtain that cloaked the runway. She peered out to the eager crowd. The house was packed. Not an empty seat. She felt her adrenaline begin to surge through her veins. She wanted this crowd as much as they wanted her. And she was hungry.

“It’s time,” Jason announced to the metropolis of people backstage.

“Rachyl, you’re a go in 5-4-3…”

Seconds after he uttered the last number, the red curtain lifted and exposed Rachyl Salinger to the starving crowd. Her applauding minions instantly jumped to their feet and screamed for her to walk. She stood at the beginning of the runway for a moment basking in their adoration. The beat of the music began to thump behind her. Her signature song was playing over the crowd. Lords of Acid’s “The Most Wonderful Girl.”

With a single step forward, she stalked the runway setting off an explosion of light bulbs. Rachyl was on fire and blazing bright for all to see. Giving them what they wanted, she shook her hair wildly and opened her mouth to scream for them. The crowd chanted her name over and over again in unison.

Rachyl was laughing, eating it up.

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