It rises and I, the Diva, make my entrance on the stage. Through a maze of corridors and rooms with a vintage flavour.
Girls and boys dance around me and part to open a passage for me.
I sit down for a second on the velvet of a couch to absorb the warm colours of the 1970s: hues of mauve on the eyes, burgundy on the lips, deep marsala on the nails.
A wild disco music starts, the temperature rises, I want to enjoy myself all night long. I am not here to be understood, but to be adored.
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