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The people around her were gorgeous, though not as gorgeous as she, and Lyra was happy to press her body up against them as she swayed to the music. Closing her eyes and letting her head fall back against the shoulder of whatever handsome stranger currently had his hands on her hips, a relaxed smile spread across her face. Lyra was in her element; attractive people, loads of attention, music, lights, and a buoyant energy that infected everyone around her.

She had finished a drink already, and hadn’t bothered to yet order another. Lyra didn’t like to get too drunk in public without someone around that she trusted to watch out for her. There were people in the world who were utterly obsessed with her, despite what her older sister might say with a superior looking roll of her eyes, and Lyra was smart enough to not give them any added incentive to think they could take advantage of her. Two was her max when she was alone, and she tried to space them out enough to create and maintain a nice buzz without affecting her ability to apparate home safely. She knew from observation that others didn’t monitor themselves as closely as she did, and the large foot falling onto her designer heels only reinforced that notion.

The bloke who’d stepped on her foot turned and apologized, a wide grin covering his face. Lyra could hardly fault him, he looked like he was really enjoying himself and that drink in his hand. If he’d not acknowledged the mistake she might have gone off on him, or if she was in a different sort of mood, but she was in high spirits and so she smiled in return as she continued to move to the music. “It’s alright,” she replied loud enough for him to hear without contorting her facial features into a yell to be heard over the thumping beat.

The bright lights blinded her to the faces of the cheering crowd as she took her final bow. The movements of their clapping hands and the noise it created was an unmistakable applause as Lyra beamed, her chin high as her back straightened as she came back up again. She felt a flutter in her chest, that indescribable sense of adoration from her fans. She loved it. She craved it. The actors around her stepped back and Lyra bowed once more, basking in the glorious applause, supported by hoots and whistles and someone in the back of the theatre shouting her name. They loved her. The women wanted to be her and the men wanted to be with her. Nothing on this great green earth could replace the feeling of a standing ovation at the final curtain.

“Thank you,” she said with a practiced smile on her face as she passed a stagehand in the wings on her way to her green room. They all adored her, even her fellow thespians. Lyra couldn’t walk ten feet without someone telling her what a magnificent job she’d done tonight. She didn’t need telling, it was obvious in and of itself but still the congratulations were welcomed right up until the moment she shut her dressing room door and the noise of the theatre died away.

Reds, pinks, and purples covered the vanity, obscuring her view of the mirror as she sat on the plush little stool to tend to her face. Plucking the card from the center of the bouquet, Lyra gave a haughty grin as she read over the card, knowing instantly whose name would be signed at the bottom. Only one person called her his ‘golden goddess’ and while she quite liked the sound of the epithet, she didn’t much care for the man who had coined the phrase. She had dealt with worse offenders than this one, but her parents worried and had hired someone to keep this stalker away from her; clearly the body guard wasn’t doing his job properly. Lyra rose and moved to the door which led to the rest of the backstage. Pulling it open, she popped her head out and caught the eye of the first person to pass by. “Pardon, have you seen Rhys about?” Lyra would be having a chat with her father about her absentee body guard. She rolled her eyes as her question was answered. “Well ask about for him. I’ve got this bloody psychopath on me again.” She raised her hand flippantly, the card from her stalker on display. All the more attention on her, with the rest of the cast worried for her. Shutting the door again, Lyra threw the card in the bin and sat back in front of her vanity, admiring the beautiful flowers in front of her. He might have been a creep and a pervert, but her stalker did know a thing or two about arrangements. He never failed to get her something beautiful.

Her hair was perfect; long blonde curls that bounced as her hand ran over them, brushing them behind her shoulder. The makeup was a bit a heavy, as theatre makeup tended to be, so she pulled open the top drawer of her vanity and drew her wand. A few elegant rotations of the wrist and Lyra was ready to be seen outside of the playhouse. She changed out of her costume and put on her own clothing; a red dress with a high neckline and peek-a-boo cutout to show off her considerable cleavage. Pulling her fur-lined cloak over her shoulders, she left the flowers in her dressing room as she headed out a side door into a well-lit alley way that would lead her to the high street.

It was early still, only half past eleven, and Lyra was in high spirits after such an amazing performance. A good show did wonders for her energy level and tonight she felt like dancing. Turning towards the pounding thump of a bass, Lyra headed in the direction of the Charmed Nightclub. She walked straight past the queue out front and smiled at the door man, who let her inside after a kiss on the cheek and a compliment on her looks. The music was pulsating, and the lights swirled in a colorful haze around her. Lyra was given a private booth as she always was, and she flung her cloak over the seat as she ordered a cocktail and told the booth attendant to keep an eye on her things. Only moments later, Lyra was on the dance floor, letting the music take her over.

On its face, the evening would seem a very classy affair. Liv and Lyra had worked hard to ensure the evening would be a success and still allow Lilith to get a little wild. Hopefully a lot wild. As Lyra fixed her lipstick in the toilet mirror, and adjusted her top, she felt rather pleased with herself. They had rented out the entire Ambrosia Lounge for the evening to avoid any riff raff stumbling in, not that that was a common occurrence for such an establishment, but everything tonight needed to go off without a hitch. Their big brother had been married earlier that same year and the hen party for his bride had been a rather fun one, but Lyra knew her older sister well and knew she would want to outdo their new sister-in-law at every turn. Clementine was a lovely witch and she seemed to get on well with Lucian. There was no reason but Lilith’s need to be the best to attempt to one up the woman, but here we were and Lyra hoped the evening would please her sister.

Giving her backside a check in the mirror and finding her appearance flawless, Lyra headed back out to give the place a final look around. Liv had the staff hang some amazing banners around the room, Lilith’s gorgeous face plastered just above them. Her younger sister was checking her handywork as Lyra passed through the lounge and headed just beyond the stage where the band was tuning their instruments to a door which led to some offices in the back. “How’re you lads holding up?” she asked, taking in the spectacular sight of six well-muscled men in various stages of dress. Lyra admired them for what they were worth, a good fling and 65 galleons a piece for a stunning show. There was no real need to check in on the strippers other than to gawk at them, but she made simple small talk with them and admired their bodies as they stretched and prepared for their performance. Lyra had claimed dominion over reserving the entertainment for the evening, booking an amazing band and this harem of men dressed in tailored suits to gyrate on her sister’s face. For all the prim and proper Lilith embodied, all bets were off once the girl was drunk. Drinks and food had been Liv’s responsibility and Lyra had the utmost confidence in their little sister with regard to making sure the lounge created several signature cocktails and shots to honor the oldest Burke girl.

The party appeared to be gearing up when Lyra returned, and she spotted Liv shimmying her way across the dancefloor, breasts on full display. “How many charms did you have to use to get those to stay in place tonight?” she asked, joining her little sister with a sway of her hips. Lyra spun around slowly, admiring their work on the whole and scanning to see if Lilith had arrived yet. No such luck. She spun again and looked at the busy blonde. “Think the boys will have anything this brilliant planned for our new brother?”

Lyra could have spent all day trying on dresses and drinking champagne with her sisters, listening to them squawk playfully at each other over dogs and dressing rooms. What else was she to do after having her rehearsal cut short by imbecilic staffers? It worked out marvelously well that her sisters had met up near the theatre, though it wasn’t too much of a coincidence knowing that the finer shoppes were in Whimsic Alley, if you wanted to avoid muggle fashion. Livvi probably would wear muggle clothes without a second thought, not because she was fond of muggles in any regard but simply because of her wild streak. She wasn’t rebellious, not like some pureblood wizards who disgraced their families, but simply wild. Adventurous. And a little audacious. On the other hand, if Lilith even so much as suspected muggles had been involved in designing any piece of clothing in her wardrobe, she’d have burned the whole thing to the ground. Lyra, as in most ways, was stuck in the middle of the sisterly spectrum that were the Burke girls.

Deciding not to purchase anything, Lyra joined her sisters at a few more shoppes where she found a pair of boots and a cloak she liked. She had it sent to her flat directly, so that she wouldn’t have to carry her purchases around in a bag just to get wrinkled. It was a lovely turn of events to have a shopping day with her sisters, but soon enough it was time to part ways. They were all grown witches now, with jobs and social lives of their own to keep up. In their younger days they would have just kept each other company until bed time, then retired to their own rooms and chat through their enchanted mirrors with each other until one of them inevitably fell asleep. Parting now was much more orchestrated and deliberate, and not nearly as fun as bewitching a pig nose on Lilith when she began to snore before Livvi and Lyra.

“We’ll need to plan a proper wedding planning date,” Lyra remarked, giving her older sister a kiss on the cheek. “Drinks and dresses and whatnot.” She smiled and turned to give her younger sister a farewell smooch as well. “Ring me when you want to get together, again. I’ll have Bernard move my schedule at the theatre around to fit whatever you’d like. Except show dates, of course. Ticket holders get so up in arms if you cancel a show for a dinner date,” she said playfully, clearly joking as she would perform unwell, getting sick in the wings before cancelling a performance if she could help it.

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Thank the gods that Lyra knew her sister well enough to know when Lilith was having a laugh. You certainly couldn’t tell by looking at the oldest of the sisters. Her fair features were as stoic and collected as if she had just made a comment on the weather to a passerby, instead of making a joke with her dear sisters. Lilith had always been a bit more buttoned up than the rest of the Burke children, but she wasn’t a bore by any means. You just had to know her.

It made Lyra wonder, as she rolled her eyes at the idea of a lime bridesmaid gown, whether Rabastan had learned enough about Lilith to know when she was teasing him. Would Lilith tease him, or would she find that too juvenile with a fiancée? This was, obviously, the first fiancée Lilith had ever had, and Lyra had no way of knowing how she behaved in private with a man she’d been instructed to marry. Lyra couldn’t imagine Lilith making more obvious jokes, smiling broadly and laughing obviously just to ensure Rabastan knew she was taking the mickey of him. No, definitely not. Lilith was not that sort. She wouldn’t put on a show just to make her point known. That was more Lyra’s forte.

The perky blonde moved to pale gold-colored dress that hung on the rail beside the turquoise frock she’d been admiring. It was more subtle than what she would normally flock to but the fabric had a lovely sheen that caught the light when it moved, and that could most certainly work for the young starlet.

A shop attendant came out with a tray of champagne and asked if they needed any help. Lilith, true to form, didn’t respond straight away. Lyra was not so reserved. “Start a room,” she said to the woman, gesturing to the golden dress without making eye contact with the attendant. Lyra simply moved on to the next thing that caught her eye, and while she was having things put in the fitting room for her, she was in no hurry to actually make her way over to the curtained alcoves. She would much rather chat with her sisters and take her time. There wasn’t even any guarantee that Lyra would even try on anything the woman collected for her, but if she did choose to she wouldn’t want to wait.