"Alright, let's just try to get these up…"

I muttered to myself, balancing on the tips of my toes as I stretched to tape up some cheap plastic bats. The things barely stuck, and if one more fell and smacked me in the face, I was going to commit a crime.

Rainbow Dash had dumped a whole box of Halloween decorations on me months ago, and I, being the total genius that I am, waited until the last minute to put them up. Not that it really mattered. This wasn’t even my house—it was ours. Three months of living under the same roof as Adagio Dazzle, the walking, talking embodiment of narcissistic, manipulative siren nonsense. Three months of this thing we called a relationship. Not that I considered it anything other than hell.

I shuddered. “I swear, all this overthinking is making my anxiety go wild…”

At this rate, I was going to be the first person in history to get PTSD from pumpkin-shaped string lights...