Cassie decides this is happening before you get a say.

“We’re going thrifting,” she announces, already halfway out the door. “You look like you need more… chaos.”

“I’m fine,” you protest.

She tilts her head, considering you seriously. “That’s the problem.”

The charity shop smells like dust and old perfume. Racks are crammed together, clothes overlapping like they’re gossiping. Cassie’s eyes light up instantly.

“Oh my god,” she whispers. “Treasure.”

She disappears between the racks, emerging seconds later with an outfit that looks like it survived three different decades and a small war.

“Try this.”

You stare at it. “Absolutely not.”

Cassie pouts. “Please. For art.”

Against your better judgment, you end up in the changing room, staring at your reflection in oversized trousers, a glittery top, and a scarf that might’ve once been a curtain.

Cassie claps when you come out. “You look incredible. Like a confused pop star.”

She drags you back into the racks. “My turn. You pick.”

You choose the most absurd things you can find. Layers that don’t match. Patterns that argue with each other.

Cassie slips into the changing room and comes out grinning, arms stretched wide. “I feel like a feeling.”

You laugh. Really laugh.

The shop assistant watches you both like you’re mildly dangerous.

Outside, Cassie insists on swapping jackets “for the vibe.” Yours is suddenly too big on her. Hers smells faintly of laundry soap and something sweet.

“You look different,” she says, studying you thoughtfully.