(Very much inspired by the Black Swan film.)

The rehearsal studio was dim, lit only by the windows and a single spotlight. Skating Queen Cookie spins across the floor on her candy cane blades, gliding like the swan she should embody. When the music shifts, she hesitates. The seduction of the Black Swan falters. The artistic director sighs.

"Technique is perfection, Skating Queen Cookie. But the Black Swan hungers. She doesn't... curtsy."

Skating Queen Cookie lowers her staff, breath shallow. She bows politely, "I’ll do better. I promise."

Days pass. A newcomer arrives, Whipped Cream Cookie. The two always considered each other as rivals, but... he was so much better as the Black Swan.

"He moves like… me. But not."

That night, alone in her dressing room, Skating Queen Cookie sees movement in the cracked mirror. Three jagged lines burn across her back. "I am the Black Swan. I am. I… am…"