Svetlana is the most beautiful person Rose has ever seen. There is no doubt about it. More beautiful than the models and actors Rose has met throughout her life. More beautiful than the paintings of Greek goddesses Rose hung on the walls of her first LA apartment, with their delicate limbs and flowing hair full of flowers. Svetlana’s beauty is bone deep.
In Rose’s experience, many gorgeous women within the entertainment industry held resentment for one other. Other actresses were potential threats who could take your roles, replace you as you aged, and one up you. In an impossibly competitive industry, it did make sense, however problematic it was. Rose had never been much for that sort of pettiness, especially after experiencing the receiving end more than enough times.
But Rose had to admit, even if Svetlana was a rival actress, someone she should resent, her beauty would make it impossible. It was undeniable and all-consuming. Her impossibly soft, dark brown curls were always in a perfect halo around her face. Svetlana carried herself with an effortless confidence, one that implied she did not care what you thought, that she was self-assured enough to pull off anything. She crushed rude men at work. And at clubs. And in public generally.
Rose regularly watches her shut down an unwanted advance with an insanely stoney expression, then turn back to Rose with her brown eyes big and earnest, hanging onto everything Rose says. It doesn’t matter if she’s rambling, or giggling over something ridiculous. Svetlana listens intently no matter what. When Svetlana sets her gaze on her, it means more to Rose than being in any movie. More than being onstage, more than a million eyes looking at her.
To have someone as stunning as Svetlana look at her like that was the best compliment Rose had ever received.
And her makeup was another thing that awed Rose. It somehow always looked both glamorous and effortless, a perfect dusting of gold on her eyelids, or a deep red lipstick that suited her so well it made it seem like all humans should be born with lips that red. She had a perfectly formed Cupid’s bow, and she would purse her lips in such a way, it made Rose want to take Svetlana’s bottom lip between her teeth and—
“Rose? Are you alright?” Shane’s voice broke Rose out of her haze, and she quickly flashed him a smile.
“Never better. Sorry, just a bit distracted.”
“You looked like you were in another world, is everything okay?”
“Of course. Everything is great.” Rose was so beyond fucked. Svetlana consumed every thought she had. And Rose had no plans to change that. She was well and truly fucked.
