Once upon a time, DRAMA was a fantasy. Now it was my life
I cried the entire subway ride home from Manhattan.
Moments before, I’d stood in front of Ben’s mirror and confirmed that, yes, the dress was perfect. Now I was holding a paper bag with the six pieces I’d sketched, tried, tweaked, and perfected.
A few stops before my house, I pulled out the pieces again, just to check they were still real. They were. DRAMA is coming to life.
The dream had been dormant for so long — I was used to ignoring it. Now, it was right there before me — a soft, beautiful collection I could feel between my fingers. That I could wear. I smiled to myself and folded the pieces back into the bag. At my stop, I rushed off the train. There was lots I needed to do at home.
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