Razzle X Dazzle Novels & Stories

This is for Zandra. XXX

“Dazzle? Hey, what’s up? It's been so long” “Mariam! Just the person I was looking for. Yea, it's been so long” Dazzle said with a grin. “Listen, I’ve got a little project I need your help with. It’s about Leah and Richie.” Mariam’s interest was immediately piqued. “Leah and Richie? What’s going on? Are they okay?” Dazzle quickly reassured her. “Oh, they’re more than okay. Richie wants to propose to Leah at the family gathering. He’s finally ready to make it official. But he needs our help to pull it off.”

I need to leave the house, move on and face reality. Maybe after this night, it will all change. My life will change for the better. Then I'll start feeling myself and everything. I huff and adjust the wine transparent bodycon below the knee dress. "I'm coming!" I finally reply her. I grab my bag and walk out of my room to where she was. She was in the kitchen drinking water. She turns to face me with wide eyes. More like a 'wow' look. "This is what we call dress to kill." She says cheerfully.

“Okay, uh… Hazel’s wearing a… glittery dress. Kind of silver… or maybe gold. Something shiny.” Hazel folded her arms, glaring playfully. “It’s rose gold, genius.” He scratched his head. “Yeah, that’s what I said — close enough. She’s got earrings… um… circular?” “They’re teardrops,” Hazel said through gritted teeth. Richard leaned toward Annabelle, smirking. “Guess someone was too busy checking out the catering girls.” The crowd howled. Jordan threw him a mock glare. “At least I’m honest!” The laughter grew as the host announced Jordan’s score. “One point — for effort.”

As if that explains it all. “Oh god,” I mutter, burying my sweaty face in a doll. “Jax has all kinds,” she continues, totally unfazed. “Red ones, silver ones, and glow-in-the-dark ones.” She taps her finger to her lips as if thinking about it. “Ripped, ribbed, dotted, fruity, spicy —” she adds proudly. “I don’t know what spicy means, but it sounds dangerous. One’s camouflaged, another’s got tiger stripes. Not joking.”

*Hazel* The room was unexpectedly large and modernly furnished. I had anticipated complete darkness, thinking it would mirror the outside night, but I was immediately shocked. It was nothing like I imagined. The room was themed in gold and white, making it sparkle and feel almost ethereal, as if every surface had been touched by sunlight. The décor was elegant yet comfortable, a perfect balance between luxury and warmth.

Pale blue melted seamlessly into silvery tones, the fabric seemingly alive, shimmering and transforming with every subtle movement, catching the light like morning dew delicately balanced on a spider's intricate web. "It's..." I began, my vocabulary suddenly inadequate to capture the dress's ethereal beauty. "Breathtaking," Bree completed my thought, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of mischief and genuine emotion. "Wait until Roman sees you. He won't just forget how to breathe - he might momentarily forget his own existence." She squealed in delight. She has brought with her makeup artist. She began working with the precision of a sculptor, each brush stroke feeling like an act of renewal,

that's a whole different story. Behind Chase, as he approached, was Zora, pushing a wheelchair with an air of exaggerated elegance. Her face was a masterpiece of artificial enhancement: thick layers of foundation, blush, and powder created a mask-like effect, while her bright red lipstick seemed to gleam with an almost malevolent intensity. Her eyelids sparkled with a heavy coating of blue eyeshadow, and her lashes were so heavily mascaraed they looked like tiny, black feathers.

I ask Raziel with a frown. He immediately gets serious again and indicates his so-called allies to come down with a nod. Both creatures land soundlessly and effortlessly next to us and lower their heads. One of them is pale tall, deep blue eyes and white hair. The other one is slightly shorter, his skin as dark as the night, his hair equally dark, and his eyes are of a hunting shade of honey. "Meet Ebony and Ivory…" Raziel says, and as I blink in surprise with their names, the three of them hold still for a few seconds, then laugh all together.

I turned, my breath didn't just hitch, it vanished. Zayn was a vision of shimmering beauty. He was wearing a silver performance dress that was more of a suggestion than a garment with strips of silk and sequins held together by gossamer threads, designed for the high-wire acrobatics of the silks. He had hair extensions in tonight, long, vibrant red waves that cascaded down his back, adorned with silver rings. His makeup was ethereal, a dusting of silver over his eyelids that made those emerald eyes pop with a terrifying intensity.