| Glass & Sorrows | 18+ |

Chapter 7 - The ball.

- Wendy -

"This is ridiculous!" I whined, rubbing a hand over my face as I paced around my room. Three hours until the masquerade ball, and here I was, frustration mounting with every single discarded dress that piled up like colorful casualties of a fashion war on my bed. Each dress I tried on seemed to mock me with imperfections one by one – too flashy, too plain, too.. not me. I was probably doomed to attend the ball in jeans and a t-shirt at this rate.

"Naya, I'm seriously considering calling it off," I admitted, my voice tinged with defeat, holding up my phone in front of me as I continued to scrutinize the piles of fabric on my bed.

"Don't you dare," Naya's voice came through the phone with fierce determination as her concerned face stared back at me. When I started picking out dresses in what felt ages ago, I had called her on Face-Time in desperate need for support. "Christian's counting on you to be his wingwoman, we'll figure this out babe just take a breath."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I know, but nothing feels right. I swear, I've tried on half my closet, and nothing." My eyes lingered on the chaotic pile of clothes covering my bed, my brows furrowing. I have to admit, I had a pretty large wardrobe for a girl with my income but to be fair most of it was my mothers. Glancing at the clock, I realized I was running out of time, frustration heating up my skin and causing a shimmer of sweat to form on my forehead. "Naya, help me out here."

I held up my phone, pointing it at the scattered fabrics. Her eyes scanned the chaos for a moment. "What about that green one with the lace sleeves? I haven't seen that one before."

I turned to the dress she mentioned, buried under a pile of rejects. Pulling it out, I held it up to the light. The mint green fabric shimmered softly, and the delicate lace sleeves added a touch of elegance that appealed to me. One of my mothers, but I had to admit, even though it's old age... It looked fairly fitting.

"You might be onto something," I admitted in a small mutter, a glimmer of hope beginning to stir within me. But before I could make a decision, my phone buzzed with a text notification. It was Christian.

"Naya, I'll call you back." I hung up before she could respond, a mixture of frustration and stress washed over me. Was he already here? Had I lost track of time? Did I mix up the time we were leaving? I held my breath as I glanced at his text.

Christian: "Hey, picked something out yet?" I sighed, feeling defeated, was I that predictable? Frustration and a bit of empathy growing hot in my chest.. What if I had to cancel?

Me: "Nope, still staring at a mountain of fabric. Can't decide."

Christian: "Look outside your door." His response was annoyingly brief, confusion knitting my brows together as I stared at his text. What did he mean?

I tossed the current dress I was holding onto the ocean of its closet neighbors as I headed out of my bedroom and towards the front door of my apartment. Opening the front door, I spotted a box with a bonnet on top, sitting innocently on the welcome mat. No.. No, he didn't.

I lifted the box and brought it inside, placing it down on one of the kitchen counters. Curiosity mixed with surprise itching my nerves as I took of the lid and-

My breath caught in my throat as my eyes stared down at one of the most beautiful pieces of fabric I've ever seen—a midnight blue gown, elegant and beautiful that shimmered in the kitchen lights. A note laid on top of the expensive fabric read, "For tonight. Trust me."

I blinked, staring down at the fabric.. Was this.. for me? Someone must've taken a picture and stuck me inside of it because I couldn't move. Did the timeline of the universe just freeze?