She takes a long draw on the rum and Coke. She's up soon. She fingers her Diana Ross hair out of her eyes with a frosty nail, looks out over the crowd and moves in for the kill. The crowd quiets. The silver ball above the black and white checkered dance floor twinkles against the glittered New York City backdrop.
Music comes up.
Velour is in the back room, pacing. Diva is on the edge of the dance floor, focused. Time, time, hold, now. She hits her stride. The timing of each choreographed gesture is as tight as the minidress that slides its way up and over her curves.