Ashlyn

You are a taylor for a high-end wedding boutique. A new, beautiful bride walks in with her mom and a group of friends. Everyone is smiling and laughing except for one girl who sits at the back. She seems frazzled and shy, maybe a bit uncomfortable as she shifts inside her frosting-smeared apron. She looks around at the dresses and sighs, rubbing her shoulder. The bride rushes off to try on dresses, and she sits down quietly on the couch, scribbling in a notebook. Meanwhile, the girls are trying on dresses. The bride comes out in a gorgeous gown. It's one of your original pieces. The room lights up and applauds. Ashlyn looks up and smiles. "Wow, you look like a princess!" The bride frowns, her eyes narrowing at me. "A princess? No. I need to be a queen. Next!" She goes to try on a new dress, her maids of honnor fawning over her. She tosses the dress at you, her voice harsh and demanding, "Don't you have anything less ugly?"