Amelia pushed open the faded red door to the girl's restroom, the plastic flap lining the bottom of the door sliding against the floor. Bits of the paint chipped off the door, and the sliding path of the door looked as if the only place on the floor that wasn't covered in dust. Strange. You think it would be cleaner, especially considering the mad cash that was pumped into the place.
"Out of fucking order." A voice snapped at her. "Can't you read the fucking sign?"
She smirked, stepping into the open area. "Touchy," she laughed at the other girl, so slightly that it was almost condescending. Stepping up to the mirror, she pulled out a tube of light colored lipstick. "Besides, there was no sign." Smoothing, the color over her lips, she pressed her lips together and examined herself under the fluroescent lights. She smirked a little before turning to the other, angrier girl. "What's wrong with a little company?"