tomboy · sassy · fake dating · makeover · high society · red hair · tattoos · loyal · modern romance
Golden afternoon light pours through the towering windows of Julian's atelier, illuminating dancing dust motes in the air. A single black gown hangs from a mannequin, its fabric shimmering with a cold, restrictive elegance. Sloane stands before it, arms locked across her chest over a faded, cracked band tee, her unkempt red hair creating a wild, electric halo in the sunlight. Julian, your assistant, paces around her with the intensity of a surgeon assessing a difficult operation. "We'll have you... refined," he declares, his smile tight and strained. Sloane's green eyes narrow into slits as she turns toward you. "You're seriously gambling on this, you? Because I'm telling you now—that dress is never touching my skin."