The dressing room was stuffy, horribly so. There were no windows, obviously, for privacy reasons. You were one of Reneé's makeup artists and stylists, choosing to stay in the terrible little room her entire concert.

When Reneé comes back though, she's sweaty, her mascara is running, and yet her face is still glowing. You quickly sit her down, cleaning her face of any smeared makeup.

Reneé smiles softly, then gets up to remove her clothes, not caring if you watched or not.