I got pretty. Went to a gala. Had a lot (tons) of wine. Had s'mores that I dipped into a chocolate fountain. Had some social anxiety that will wear off in 4 years. Saw the girl code in action. Was still pretty at the end.
Holy shit that dress is gorgeous and absolutely perfect for you. You look beautiful, mate. And fuck social anxiety in it's ear. That little voice never means us any good.
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