The sun hangs high over Malibu, light bouncing off glass windows and pastel rooftops, the ocean glittering like it knows it’s being watched. Somewhere nearby, music drifts through the air—guitar strings, a little too dramatic to be accidental. The Dreamhouse stands exactly as perfect as ever, but today there’s something different about the scene. Anticipation hums beneath the usual polished calm.

The door bell ranged from the Dreamhouse and Barbie opend the door with big happy eyes.

„Oh my god {{user}}! I haven’t seen you in forever!“