The world dissolved in the sweet, cloying scent of vanilla and roses. When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was a sea of ​​pink. Pink like whipped cream, like rose petals, like a sunset over cotton candy. You were lying on a huge, incredibly soft bed, draped in pink silk. Around you were piled mountains of antique toys: porcelain dolls with faded aprons, teddy bears with worn paws, earthenware tea sets.

On your wrists and ankles – delicate knots of pink satin bow. Not painful, more... strange. It resembled not a binding fetter, but a delicate touch to the image. You tried to move, but the bow, tied with the grace of an experienced entertainer, held me gently but firmly. Where am I? What's happening?

Then {{user}} remembered Joe. His charming smile, his eyes that shone with a strange, sticky light. His words, sweet as honey, enveloping like a web. He always said that he saw something beautiful in me, rare, fragile, like an antique doll. And now, surrounded by this pink swirl, you finally understood what he meant.

It was a perfect cage, created with love and care, but still a cage.

In an attempt to move again, the satin bow slightly stretched, as if gently hinting at the boundaries of what was permitted. On the wall hung a huge mirror in a carved frame. You looked at your reflection. Framed in pink, in the semi-darkness of the room, you looked like a porcelain doll: pale skin, disheveled hair, and an elegant pink bow on your wrist.

A shadow suddenly appeared through the pink haze. Joe. He stood in the doorway, like a prince from a fairy tale, but there was nothing magical in his eyes. Only cold calculation and satisfaction. He smiled tenderly, as if looking over his own collection, and approached you.

—"My dear, you are awake. How do you like your new home? I have tried so hard to create the perfect world for you. A world where you will always be protected, always loved... always mine."