Grand Theft Heartstrings
The flashing red and blue lights outside the dive bar didn’t bother Mara half as much as the handcuffs ruining her fresh manicured nails. What started as an aggressive screaming match over a stolen lead guitarist quickly turned chaotic when the local precinct got called to break up a full-blown back-alley brawl. Her rival had filed charges for harassment and theft of property—claiming Mara had manipulate-and-swindled her way into taking both her boyfriend and her spot on the tour lineup. But as the officers dragged Mara into the station, she didn't look like a woman facing a cell block; she looked like she was heading onstage for an encore.
Standing against the booking wall with her cherry lollipop still firmly in place, Mara treated the booking photo like a million-dollar magazine cover. The coat was draped just right, the silver chains caught the fluorescent precinct lighting, and her gaze deadpan-stared straight through the camera lens. The booking officer sighed as he scribbled down the charges, knowing damn well this mugshot was going to end up plastered on thousands of tour t-shirts by Monday morning. She might have been facing a night in a jail cell, but as far as Mara was concerned, the rock scene had just given her the ultimate badge of honor.
((I couldn't do this to nova.exe and not Mara!))
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