Blair Collins was an exuberant woman. The long red strands against her fair skin made her an aphrodisiac, unlike any other woman. The blue eyes like the sea of the Maldives were an attraction, calling and clamoring for attention. People wondered if she could be that beautiful, and yes, she could. It was impossible to look at her once, for her details invited an assessment.

Upon arriving at the luxurious Bellagio hotel, located on the Strip, the limousine stopped in front of the red carpet spread out in front of the building that looked like a palace. The Italian-inspired hotel would host the event organized to honor Jean Keanu Collins for directing his latest blockbuster film.

The lights blurred Blair's vision. The spotlights facing the front of the building gave it the air that only a building in Las Vegas would have. There were also dozens of photographers to honor America's newest darling, Jean. However, security at the place ensured that everyone got inside safe from the crowd of thirsty people for a dozen words.

The woman wore a red dress. Without a doubt, that was her color. The thin fabric hugged her curvaceous body to her waist, then came loose and fell to her feet in a bloody cloud. The straps of the dress were made of crystal and were eye-catching in their own right. However, what captivated the local men as soon as they saw her was her daring cleavage.

Beside her, nothing short of perfect, her friend Drake wore a tuxedo and looked like the ideal partner. His father was handsome, as everyone knew him; flawless.

Blair had accompanied her father to the event that stopped Las Vegas for many reasons, chief among them being to meet the local elite, mingle, and bond. As his boss had said, the best way to reach these people was to be like them. That was the first part of Spencer's plan; know the territory.

The trio, as soon as they passed through the great doors of the Bellagio, became the center of attention. This was a masquerade ball, but that didn't stop people from averting their eyes at Ms. Collins as she passed. His steps were slow and accompanied the classical music around the room. There was a huge chandelier above their heads, and yet she had become the glow of the night.

Most people wore a black mask on their faces. However, like the dress, Blair's mask was red, and that could make the woman even more attractive.

The place exuded money, a lot of money. All the people there looked golden, one more powerful than the other. The glasses in graceful hands, the millionaire heels, the tailored suits, the jewelry on display; the way fortune looked like something ordinary was stark.

- "Jean" a female voice called, and the three turned to face Deana Reys, the protagonist of Jean's film.

She was a tall blonde, some said she would be the perfect replacement for Cameron Diaz. Deana looked even more elegant in her dress, a blue Prada.

- “Dean, dear. This is my daughter, Blair.” Jean introduced them.

The blonde's gaze couldn't be noticed, however, her indifferent smile gave her away; Deana didn't like the redhead. Blair looked at Drake, her friend, in a way he understood well. She hated the idea of pretending to love it all, but she was doing it for the greater good.

- "Is a pleasure"

- “Equally”

- “Jean, we'll let you have your moment. We'll be back in five minutes,” Drake said, already taking Blair's hand and leading her to a less cheered corner of the room.

He knew, better than anyone else, that this was all an emotional trigger for Blair. Seeing her father treated so tenderly, when only she had known his past, was exhausting. As if they were both wearing masks, not just paraphernalia.

Blair and Drake had been living together for several years, ever since they met in Philadelphia. Since then, they have lived in several states, always running away from old problems or finding new ones. One way or another, they were always together.

- "You'll be fine?" Drake asked.

He wanted to have a moment of privacy, but he knew it would be next to impossible. Many people looked at them, discreetly, admiring the unbelievable beauty of the couple. If everyone didn't know that Deana was the protagonist of the movie, they would surely say that Blair was.

- "Yes, I just... I can't believe I agreed to come" she replied, looking around the room.

His father's money spoke louder, bought those people's love, and deep down, if they knew who he really was, they wouldn't care. One thing to learn about Vegas was that power was above all else.

- "But we're here now, and freaking out wouldn't be good" the friend warned.

Drake carried a calm aura that had always made Blair seek comfort from him. Her outward beauty was a sight to behold, however, it wasn't just her greenish gaze or golden brown hair that enchanted her. It was his love and generosity.

- "I hate the... " she started, but was forced to stop when a man approached.

He wore a blue suit and mask of the same color, and it matched his light eyes perfectly. His steps were graceful, but they didn't deny how inflated the man's ego could be.

- “Hello” his voice was melodic, reminiscent of a good radio announcer.

- "Hi" Blair didn't mind sounding impolite, or uninterested.

It was bad enough having to fake it by her father's side just so she wouldn't look like a rebellious daughter, or having to maintain her composure when, in fact, she was in that fancy ballroom to make amends with her boss.

- "I'm Justin, but I suppose you know" the man said smugly, but that's what Hollywood fame had done to Justin Clark. After all, he starred in the movie alongside Deana.

That night seemed ideal for approaching the most captivating redhead at the party and getting one more woman for his list of conquests. Deep down, Justin knew she would be at the top of the list.

- “No, sorry” she didn't bother to express the boredom behind her speech.

- “He's in the movie with Deana. My congratulations, too.” Drake held out his hand to Justin. Unlike his friend, he always wanted to show his best self to everyone. The more people who liked his personality, the better.

- "Thanks man. Did you like the movie?" Justin had spoken to Drake, but his face was turned towards the woman.

The way the silk hugged her breasts was tempting, and the man was willing to persist until dawn with that dress on her bedroom floor.

Earlier, Justin was giving his attention to a group of girls in the corner of the room. As he sipped slowly from his glass, he thought about which of the beauties he would take home at the end of the night. And when he finally got interested in a sculpted-lipped blonde, he spotted Blair walking into the event like she owned the whole world. Then he realized that none of the women around him would be comparable.

- “They say he's going to win the Oscar” was Drake's guess.

- “Well, I haven't seen the movie. I can't comment. Now, I'm going to leave the boys for a moment. See you soon.” Blair glanced at her friend, then at the pair of blue eyes she could decipher well. Handsome, tall, rich and self-centered like a god.

- “I'll wait for you, beautiful” Drake said, purposefully.

People always thought he and Blair had an affair, or would in the future. But for both of them, it was just a priceless friendship. He would be what she needed, and right now, she needed someone to disperse Justin.

The moment she pulled away, her chest feeling tight with an ache she couldn't explain, a group of women approached Drake and Justin. After all, a lone pair of elegant men was too good a prize to ignore.

Blair's pain came from the fact that she knew people. She knew that everyone would love her for her beauty, her fortune, or her social position. And that was enough for her father, who was making the most of his new life. But for her, money wouldn't cover half of her problems. She needed to be too many things, for too many people.

She walked around the hall looking for an escape route. The tables were covered with white tablecloths and vases of lilies, making the environment as clean as possible. It was almost like an inside joke, for she knew her father would never be clean.

When she found the set of elevators, each one pointing to a different part of the building, Blair didn't hesitate to enter. She looked back, noticing that some people were still watching her. Internally, she cursed and blamed the red dress. However, what she didn't know was that the dress wasn't the only culprit for the attention it received.

The redhead went up to the second-to-last floor of the Bellagio. The hotel was free of guests, as its only function would be to receive Jean Collins, as if he were the most important person in the world. And, in parts, in the film world, he was.

She walked down the wide, elegant hallway, looking for a place where she could collapse. Blair noticed that this floor only had four suites, despite their fascinating size. So was that building, like many others in Las Vegas. Big, imposing, luxurious and, above all, comfortable. Vegas was made to please.

The redhead chose the second suite down the hall and turned the golden knob, hoping it was open. And it was.

But to her surprise and discomfort, it wasn't empty. A blonde was leaning against the wall, holding a goblet of bubbly liquid. She was free of her dress, wearing only lingerie proportioned to her thin frame, a dark mask and stiletto heels. Across the room, untying the knot of his bow tie, a man approached the blonde.

Blair understood what was happening and hurried to close the door and leave the floor.

She hoped they hadn't noticed her presence, but decided not to stay for the real proof. Blair ran for the elevator as fast as her heels would allow and nervously punched the panel, giving up. This would not be the ideal time to take a break before facing the perfect life of Jean Collins.

Blair removed the mask from her face as she finished keying the panel. It was her simplistic way of demonstrating to herself that she didn't need to pretend, not right now.