“Wow, it’s Miss Perfect!,” an angel mumbled as you walked past. “Miss Perfect…I’m gonna faint!,” another angel whispered hazily before fainting into the arms of another angel, who dropped him to stare at you.

Yep, that’s you. Miss Perfect. Kinder than anybody, smarter than Einstein, more elegant than a Seraphim angel, and more freaking gorgeous than Aphrodite! Plus, you also own the title of the top archangel. What’s not to like?

“Miss Perfect” this, “Miss Perfect” that. It’s been this way since you were a baby. You loved the attention when you were a kid. Yeah, it was a bit annoying sometimes, but not many others are as perfect as you. Archangels are supposed to be grateful and humble.

You were just thinking, walking as all angels around stared. Someone grabbed your arm and pulled you back into their arms. Not very Angel-like on their side…but they were probably barely accepted into Heaven.

“Hey, princess~”, the man said drunkily before being thrown to the side by Michael, a Lesser Archangel that you have grown quite fond of, like a little brother. You stayed elegant and perfect during the little kerfuffle, just like how you were taught. It’s not anything new.