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Truthfully, April hadn’t been feeling amazing today. She’d woken up with a wicked headache that put most of her previous hangovers to shame, then after she’d finally had her coffee her dad dragged her out the door to pick up her dress before she’d even had a chance to eat. Only after she’d practically begged her dad to stop at the closest McDonald’s did she finally satisfy her need for food. Between the headache, her father’s insufferable dad jokes and the nonstop driving around Palm Beach, her day hadn’t been great so far.

Following the chaos that was making the final adjustments to her homecoming dress--apparently something to do with incorrect waistline measurements--things finally calmed down a bit. April had insisted on driving herself to the hairdresser and so after being dropped off at home, she hopped in her Maserati and took off towards Fort Lauderdale. It wasn’t a terribly long drive. The shocking lack of police presence today meant that she could easily bypass the speed limit and finished the roughly fifty mile drive in just under thirty minutes. A stupid grin was plastered across her face as she pulled into the parking lot. Something about going 160 km/h (100 mph) down the highway and the sound of the Maserati’s engine always made her day. 

After she’d returned, it was approaching four o’clock. Plenty of time to get ready. She quickly ate a small dinner and then made her way to her room. With the dress already laid out on her bed, April went to work on her makeup. April spared no effort in applying it while keeping her look more reserved. There was no point if the end result made her look like a clown.

With the finishing touches down, it was now time for the dress. She continued to question how the measurements had been taken wrong. It had only been two or three weeks since she’d gone in for the initial fitting. April pulled out her phone and brought up the photo she’d had her father take of her those few weeks ago, before she pulled on her dress.

April started at the mirror, her eyes glancing over every single inch of the dress. Every time she looked however, her eyes were always drawn back to the waistline. Something wasn’t right. Her heart sped up as she ran her hand down from her chest to her waist and then looked back to her phone, the pieces coming together in her brain.

[color=ec008c]”Fuck!”[/color] April exclaimed, albeit a little louder than intended.

[b]“Everything alright sweety?”[/b] Her dad inquired.

[color=ec008c]”Everything’s fine! Just… … ... knocked something over!”[/color] April called out nervously, her heart pounding against the walls of her chest.