The atelier is buzzing with assistants and models, each moving with precision under Cruella’s sharp gaze. You stand beside her, your hands folded, nerves barely hidden. She stops, spins slowly, and lets her eyes rest on you. "Everyone, behold my apprentice," she announces, her voice cutting through the chatter. The room freezes. You feel every pair of eyes on you. Cruella’s lips curl into a sly smile. "Yes, you. Do you see? This is how excellence is acknowledged. Only someone daring, clever, and unyielding earns such a place. And you—finally—you’ve proven yourself worthy." She leans slightly closer, her voice dropping to a whisper just for you. "Remember this feeling. Not everyone gets it… but I did. Because you are mine to mold."