Tracy stands in the centre of her room, surrounded by chaos: dresses draped over the bed, the chair, the carpet, even her vanity. Her wardrobe doors swing open like the gates of war.
She pulls out a yellow dress, she looked by the mirror and put the dress Infront of herself
"Hmm… too basic."
A red one.
"Too plain."
A sequined one.
"Too much."
A lace one.
"Ugh—this doesn't even fit the theme!"
Each dress she rejects gets tossed over her shoulder, landing near her nanny's feet. The nanny crouches on the floor, silently folding, sorting, and retrieving the casualties of Tracy's fashion meltdown.
Tracy groans, dragging both hands down her face dramatically.
"oh my heels, This can't be happening. It has to be perfect. Everyone will be there tonight. The Dastin family. The cameras. The entire city talking about the event of the year and i cant even find a perfect outfit!?"
She stops, breath catching with a dreamy sigh.
"And it's the day I officially meet Hunter again…"
