The line to get in wound all the way around the side of the old industrial building. Michaela shivered when the surprisingly cool late summer breeze hit her, and she wished she had something more substantial on.Austin’s friend Scarlett had helped her dress, allowing her to rummage through the heaping closet that she kept at the theatre. Scarlett was nice, pretty in an exotic way that Michaela would never be but had always yearned to look like.Long, dark curling hair, tilted espresso brown eyes and lush red lips, Scarlett looked like some sort of gorgeous hippie of yesteryear. Flowing skirts and gauzy tops, layers of necklaces that clanked noisily when she walked, Scarlett even wore a tinkling ankle bracelet that sang an endless tune with her every movement.She found Michaela a jersey dress that looked straight off the disco floor of Studio 54. Electric blue with spaghetti straps, the fabric draped over her breasts, crisscrossing to tie at her right hip and with a full skirt that ended at the knee.
