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Already in a sour mood from having her evening ruined by a clown running about in a crowded nightclub and wayward drinks being tossed about, potentially ruining her designer outfit, Lyra did not take kindly to the words coming from this handsome man’s mouth. His tone had been cordial enough in reality but to her annoyed ear it sounded as though he was getting smart with her. That simply would not stand. “Who do you think you are? You throw liquor on women and run away without a word, and expect no one to call you on your actions as you prepare another round?” The expression on her pretty face was that of indignation.

This was not how her evening was supposed to end. After such a roaring applause at the playhouse for her brilliant performance, she was supposed to have witches and wizards falling all over her to buy her drinks, not throw them in her face. Was she losing her touch that people would treat her so poorly? Instinctively, Lyra had the urge to run to her older brother and complain, to make him track this fool down and have him pay for tarnishing the memory of this evening for her, but she wasn’t a child any longer and she could take care of herself without having Lucian fight her battles for her.

“Jerome!” she called, turning her eyes from the incredibly handsome, incredibly rude stranger over to the bartender who was at the far end of the bar pouring a bourbon. “If you serve this sod another drink for him to throw around the dancefloor, I can very well take my business elsewhere.” Charmed was certainly not the only night club in London catering only to the magical community. It wasn’t even the only night club in Whimsic Alley. The Burkes had enough money to permanently reserve a private booth at any club, or a table at any restaurant they wanted, and Lyra did not need to be paying good money for the establishment to encourage these sorts of shenanigans.

“I’ll be in my dressing room.” Lyra, annoyed, flung open the break in the curtain and brushed past several stagehands as she made her way down the darkened hall to her dressing room. Rehearsal was not going well today. The lighting technician was out sick and his assistant was filling in, doing a piss poor job of things. Three times he had missed her spotlight cue and during the love scene he somehow flooded the stage with a disgusting green filter that made Lyra and her costar look as though their romantic boat ride was making them sea sick. To make matters worse, the daft idiot kept shouting down from the lightbox every time he realized he’d made a mistake, interrupting the actors on the stage with his shit-worthy apologies. Lyra couldn’t handle it any longer. The director called five and Lyra didn’t hesitate in removing herself from the unflattering lighting.

Sitting in front of the vanity, adjusting one of the curls in her hair, Lyra pouted into the mirror. Today was just not going well and she wanted to smack that lightboy right out of that damned box. She touched up her makeup, needing something to do with herself while she waited for the director to sort things out. Pink lips pressed together and then released with a nice popping sound that filled the room. Lyra drug her forefinger across her lower lip line to remove a bit of color that had run a little too low. Knock. Knock. Knock. “Hmm?” Lyra didn’t bother looking away from her reflection as one of the stagehands opened the door and popped his head in. “We’re wrapping for the day, Miss Burke. Frank’s been let go.” “Who?” Lyra stopped preening in the mirror and turned to look at the man. Was he speaking in third person like a pretentious moron or was he talking of someone else? “The lighting assistant, miss.” “He deserved as much, didn’t he?” The man nodded, said his goodbyes, and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

This was lovely. She now had an opportunity to turn this day around, given that she had a bit of unexpected free time. Grabbing her coat and her handbag, Lyra left the Winchester Playhouse, planning to do a bit of shopping. Shopping always cheered Lyra up. Heading down Whimsic Alley towards the jewelers, a pretty blonde up ahead caught Lyra’s eye. Lilith was standing in the street looking into the coffee shop. Following Lil’s gaze, Lyra saw her other sister waving from inside the shop, grinning like a mad woman at their older sister. Boots clicked on the cobbled street as Lyra’s pace quickened, catching up with Lilith easily. “Fancy meeting you here,” Lyra said happily as she came up behind her sister to stand at her side. “Are we meeting here without me, or is this a happy coincidence? You know I hate it when you two leave me out of things.” Lyra’s gaze shifted from her older sister on the street to her younger sister in the shop.

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 maroon skirt with a tight, black top that showed off a bit of her stomach. 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.