"I looove your makeup," Rosie as Josephine gushes. She gazes at the stunning pink-haired woman in the mirror as she smooths her own blond waves and pops her freshly painted lips together. "Are you a makeup artist? Goodness, you're gorgeous."
"Thank you," the girl says, clearly affected by the compliment. Also, clearly drunk. "I'm not like, a professional or anything. I'm like, you know, self taught. But it's easier than it looks really!"
She fluffs her own hair into a chaotic cotton-candy mess and stumbles back a step on her very tall high heels as she considers Rosie to offer her a compliment in kind. "I like your shoes!" she settles on.
"Thank you," she mimics, kicking up one foot like a Princess experiencing True Love's Kiss. "They're thrifted. Found art, y'know?" An innocuous lie that she hopes might endear her to someone who identifies as self-taught.
"I'm Josie," she introduces herself in a flawless Tennessee accent. "What's your name, shug?"
"Persephone," the girl says (or at least, this is what it sounds like she says). She offers her hand to shake but doesn't wait for Josie to accept the gesture before she starts talking again. "Are you from out of town? Where's the accent from?"
The Life of the Party & Josie
The Life of the Party & Josie
She fluffs her own hair into a chaotic cotton-candy mess and stumbles back a step on her very tall high heels as she considers Rosie to offer her a compliment in kind. "I like your shoes!" she settles on.
The Life of the Party & Josie
"I'm Josie," she introduces herself in a flawless Tennessee accent. "What's your name, shug?"
The Life of the Party & Josie