you enter the grand ballroom, your long, thick gown sweeping against the slippery floors as you look around, seeing very wealthy film directors sipping with faux delicacy at their drinks.

you notice a tall, dark haired man holding a martini in hand staring at you and sending a seductive wink as he felt your eyes on him. “you look perfect to star in my upcoming film, ‘the mouse trap,” he rasps with a grin.