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She reached out, her fingers trembling slightly. At twenty-four, she had spent her life playing it safe in beige and mauve. But tonight was different. Tonight was the city’s annual masquerade, and the invitation had whispered of magic and transformation. "That one has a lot of kick," a voice rasped.
Her hair was flat. Her dress was splashed with water. But her lips—they blazed. They caught every glimmer of the crystal chandeliers, throwing sparks of light across her face. She didn't feel like a wet stranger; she felt like a centerpiece.
She walked into the crowd, her head held higher than it had ever been. She didn't need the mask she carried in her hand. The glitter was all the courage she needed.
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She reached out, her fingers trembling slightly. At twenty-four, she had spent her life playing it safe in beige and mauve. But tonight was different. Tonight was the city’s annual masquerade, and the invitation had whispered of magic and transformation. "That one has a lot of kick," a voice rasped.
Her hair was flat. Her dress was splashed with water. But her lips—they blazed. They caught every glimmer of the crystal chandeliers, throwing sparks of light across her face. She didn't feel like a wet stranger; she felt like a centerpiece.
She walked into the crowd, her head held higher than it had ever been. She didn't need the mask she carried in her hand. The glitter was all the courage she needed.