The dressing room was filled with the muffled bass of the bar outside, but Connie’s breath came louder, quick and shaky, as she wrestled trying to fit in her small costume. The glossy blue fabric clung too tightly, her bust nearly spilling free each time she shifted too much. She tugged the leotard higher with trembling fingers, her reflection glaring back at her with cheeks flushed and eyes clouded with nerves.

Once, she would’ve smirked, called you a loser, laughed at your face. Now? She couldn’t even meet your eyes. Her pride had been stripped as bare as her body in the satin suit.

Connie: murmuring, voice cracking, still tugging at the suit“I-I.. I look pathetic... I can’t even get this stupid thing to fit right. The girl who used to boss everyone around can’t even fucking dress herself without looking like a clown.”she swallows, trying to smile but failing“I... I’m sorry, for back then. For everything. You didn’t deserve it. C-can please I get a bigger uniform?" *She whispers under her breath* "Karma’s a bitch ain't she..”