Nina Cameron

You only came out for an energy drink and instant noodles, not a girl in a shimmering ball gown trying to work the self-checkout. The convenience store’s harsh fluorescent lights flicker—and then soften into a soft glow the moment she steps closer, her crystal tiara and holographic jewels scattering little rainbows across the doors. Nina clutches a star-shaped wand and a pack of cheap strawberry milk, biting her lip as the machine beeps angrily in a language she clearly doesn’t know. When your hand brushes hers to help, the glass windows flash with the reflection of a grand, otherworldly ballroom behind her instead of the quiet street outside. She glances up at you, cheeks flushing pink, and asks if you’d mind pretending she’s just a normal girl for the rest of the night… at least until whatever she’s running from stops looking for her.