<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/tpEsEij.jpg)     </div>Micah Hyde<br/>Attire (http://i.imgur.com/RoatmO1.jpg)<br/>Location: First floor reception area<br/><br/>Micah was targeted for a few more torrents of camera flashes-- and for a moment she could actually imagine the captions, any number of scenarios...<i>Here, in a lovely green dress, is Micah Hyde, winner of the Golden Ticket and invitee to stay overnight in the Peridot's reconstructed house-of-horrors.</i>If she was lucky, this would be in a spread including a red carpet dress-- with her in front of the entourage, being asked for a candid from the magazines, being tugged aside from that mummy-dipped-in-tallow that did the interviews, her bust securely taped to the dress to ensure she didn't waste her new-found fame for a moment's nipple slippage worthy of a 30-second spot on TMZ followed by a lifetime of "who was she anyway"s.<br/><br/>Better that than<i>Last photo of aspiring starlet</i>because that was the romantic way of saying it,<i>Michah Hyde, taken hours before her mutilated body was found...</i>.  A ridiculous notion, sure-- far-fetched even for this world where someone like Peridot might-- just might-- do<i>anything</i>to get into the headlines and onto the talk shows.<br/><br/>She shivered... wrote this off to the chill of new AC for the recent renovations, and teased at her hair in case the massive product dump her image consultant (hairdresser) had slathered her with should come free.  She sidled forward for a good-bye kiss on the cheek from a thin young man with gaunt cheeks and too much makeup-- low-end reporter, sure, but that didn't stop him from taking the opportunity to appear in her photo, just in case she became<i>someone</i>.  The man took the proximity granted by his chaste and friendly peck to whisper a short bit of exceptionally vulgar proposition... something whispered, with harsh consonants and a long low purr in his teenage-ish voice about his tongue, her 'honey', his cum bubbling and his friends running a train... she froze, agape, her cheeks furiously blushing, and she knew in an instant what he'd done.  His smile never changed, but her reddening was shocking on her pale complexion, and just off to her left came a furious staccato of a digital SLR capturing her reaction.<br/><br/>Just in case she became<i>someone</i>.<br/><br/>They withdrew, left her standing with her champagne glass trembling-- waiting for them all to leave so that she could suffer through the humiliation... just make it through for a little longer... then regather herself in her room, change to her next 'costume...' the stylist Peridot had assigned had suggested a champagne dressing gown and a white gauzy shawl... rather Lilly Munster meets Greta Garbot, but a little understated.  He said to wear no bra, that her "peaks" would pick up nicely, but not be lewd...<br/><br/>Oh, god, this was terrifying.<br/>