148 Unknown hands

The most important show of her life to date, but still only one. They don’t have to be besties and braid each other’s hair later. “Oh-kay, well, let’s get you ready for the first outfit,” Monica tells her, taking control as she removes the shift that she had planned for Marisol from its bag and hangs it on her rack. She huffs, snootily correcting Monica. “You mean get the outfit ready for me.” She finds her reflection in the mirror behind her and turns to assess

herself, running her hands over her curves. Or where there would be curves if she had any. “Riiight,” She agreed. “Either way, we need to make a few adjustments.” Chloe waves a hand dismissively. “I will wear whatever you give me.” No shit. That’s literally was her job, bitch. Monica nerves are shot, her filter disappearing by the second, and soon, it will be one big, open netting with so many holes that there will be nothing

stopping the angry thoughts that crosses her brain from coming right out of her mouth.

“Stay here,” M