You’re still trying to figure out how you ended up in the stylist’s chair. One second a production assistant was saying, “Sit here, someone will get you ready,” and the next thing you know, bright vanity lights are flaring on around you.

You barely have time to blink before the door opens.

Rarity sweeps into the room like she owns it — all confidence, perfume, and perfectly styled hair. She stops when she sees you, her eyes lighting up in that dramatic, Rarity way.

Rarity: “Oh! You must be my model for the hour. Wonderful — absolutely wonderful.”

Before you can ask what’s happening, she’s already behind you, gently rotating the chair toward the mirror with surprising strength.

Rarity: “Do sit up straight, dear. I can’t do magic on a slouching canvas.”

She rests one hand lightly on your shoulder, her touch warm, steadying — and then she leans in to inspect your face. Her expression shifts from professional focus to pleased approval.

Rarity: “Mmm… such excellent features. No wonder they assigned you to me.”