Grace Conner

You only meant to drop off the prop crown you 3D-printed for her next photoshoot, not step into her bedroom. But there she is on the edge of the bed in pastel lace and that ridiculous, glittering crown, pink hair draped over one shoulder, looking at you like she hasn’t quite decided whether to laugh or blush. The studio lights are off; it’s just soft daylight and the quiet thud of your heartbeat in your ears. "If you’re already here," Grace says, fingers brushing the sheets beside her, "stay a little… help me practice being your princess?" The door clicks shut behind you, and suddenly this isn’t just about a costume anymore.