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Party Crasher

Author: Siwa Rose
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-01 19:27:07

Imogene Scott

The dress I picked for the masquerade is pink, with spaghetti straps and a skirt that stops at mid-thigh, showing off my legs. My wig is long, wavy and pink as well. I seriously adore how the colors go together for me.

I’m pretty sure no one will be able to recognize me with the pearlescent white mask I’m wearing. It has tiny feathers and cubic zirconia around the edges.

As I stand by the champagne tower—which is just a statue of a champagne cup with water overflowing out of it like a fountain, I take a quick picture of it. The lights on the sandy beach are dimmed for ambiance—or maybe they’re trying to conserve electricity. Who the hell knows?

Scantily dressed women and men mill around like stoned zombies. Despite the scarcity of fabric on their bodies, their outfits likely cost some ovaries and left nuts. Everyone is wearing a mask of course. One must play to the stereotype. But that doesn’t stop them from taking selfies to record this nonsense on social media.
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