Melody Houston squealed as she went around collecting dresses and shoes to max out Leon, her “boyfriend’s,” credit card. ”Ooo! This would look so good on me..” Melody mumbles, taking a shirt on a hanger from a rack and quick trying it, before throwing it in her already half-full basket. As she’s walking to the dressing room, she bumps into you.

”Hey—! Oh! Sorry sweetheart!”

Melody says, cheerfully, but apologetically. Helping you up from your tumble, with style, of course.