ᴡʜᴏ: SOLEIL FLEMING & NILANI TIPPORI ( @empyrcals ) ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ: THE CAESAR FLICKERMAN SHOW, BACKSTAGE ᴡʜᴇɴ: POST-TRIBUTE INTERVIEWS
The backstage dressing areas of the CAESAR FLICKERMAN SHOW were surprisingly nice. Soleil was fairly certain she was supposed to be sitting in the audience, clapping and gawking and smiling politely at each and every tribute that walked on stage – but, honestly, she couldn't think of anything worse. So her seat had remained vacant since the lights had gone down – and Soleil had been roaming around backstage as if she owned the joint. Nobody had thought to question her presence yet – TV people were running around like headless chickens, and the escorts stylists were doing the same. Nobody had the time to usher out a lost victor.
She'd managed to secure herself an empty dressing room and a bowl of chips ( brightly coloured... she doesn't want to think about what the fuck has been put in them ) – feet up on the makeup table, as she watches the interviews from a small screen that has been mounted in the corner. They swivel to face the door when they hear it open, but make no effort to remove their feet from the table. "Shit," They mutter instead, offering NILANI a half-hearted wave. This must be her change room – no wonder it was empty while the woman was on stage.
"Please don't make me leave." They say, "I can, like, close my eyes if you need to get changed."