Ametrine stepped down from the boutique's fitting platform, still in the dress, her breath catching slightly when she met her own eyes in the mirror.
Even now… it felt surreal.
The dress shimmered with every step — soft midnight plum melting into silver. For a moment, she almost didn't want to take it off.
Lumi let out a theatrical sigh behind her. "You're officially dangerous now."
Risa, arms crossed, smirked approvingly. "That's not a dress. That's an ultimatum."
Amy chuckled softly. "Okay, okay. Let me change before you two write poetry about it."
Ten minutes later, dress safely in the bag — tagged, paid, and handled with all the reverence of a sacred artifact — the three of them walked out of the boutique with a shared giddiness clinging to their steps.
"Now that the drama queen has her star dress," Risa said, nudging Amy, "can we eat before Lumi faints dramatically in the middle of the food court?"
"I would faint gracefully," Lumi defended. "And for the record, I burned through all my breakfast calories while hunting that outfit like a fashion wolf."
"Wolves don't sparkle."
"This one does."
Amy smiled as they moved through the bustling mall. It felt warm, strangely comforting — and for once, she didn't feel like an outsider watching from behind glass. This was real. Tangible. The now.
They found a cozy café tucked between two anchor stores — warm wood paneling, hanging plants, and the smell of fresh croissants. It hadn't changed.
Amy chose a spot by the window while Lumi and Risa debated the pastry case like diplomats brokering a treaty.
"You still hate cinnamon, right?" Lumi asked over her shoulder.
Amy blinked. "No, I like—"
"Too late," Risa said, already tapping the order screen. "You're getting chocolate hazelnut. It's the superior choice."
She didn't argue. Not this time.
When they finally settled at the table — three drinks, three flaky pastries, and a whole lot of crumbs between them — the laughter came easily.
Lumi smeared whipped cream on her cheek by accident and spent two minutes mock-wailing while Risa tried (and failed) to dab it off without laughing.
Amy watched them, letting the warmth settle into her chest.
She'd lost this once.
But not again.
After breakfast, they looped back into the boutique maze — this time for Lumi and Risa.
"We need something that screams, 'Yes, I'm with the hottest girl at the party, but I also have depth,'" Lumi said, holding up a sequined disaster that sparkled aggressively.
"That screams 'I glued a disco ball to my torso.'" Risa snorted. "Try again."
Eventually, Lumi found her match — a pale gold dress with soft petal layers and fluttering sheer sleeves that moved like wind-blown feathers. Elegant, romantic, and just eccentric enough to be hers.
Risa went darker — a sleek navy ensemble with sharp lines and a slit along one side, paired with silver ear cuffs and a matching clutch. Sophisticated. Effortlessly cool. Entirely her.
"I feel underdressed," Amy muttered.
"You bought the moon," Risa replied. "You don't need armor."
Last stop: shoes.
Amy's combat boots — practical, worn, and deeply her — earned a unanimous veto from the tribunal.
"You're not storming a castle," Lumi declared. "You're conquering hearts. There's a difference."
"I don't know how-to walk-in heels," Amy warned.
"Good thing we're here early," Risa said, handing her a pair of silver-strapped low heels with quiet elegance. "You'll have time to practice."
Amy stared at them.
So simple. So… not her.
But they matched the dress.
And maybe that was enough.
They finished shopping just before noon. Bags in hand, laughter still trailing behind them, the trio exited the mall into the crisp winter air. Risa's dad was already waiting, trunk open, humming to the car radio like a man on a mission.
The ride back was quieter, comfortable. The excitement had settled into something warm, like the glow after a good fire.
Amy stared out the window, one hand resting on her dress bag.
Tonight was the night.
The last time she'd been to that party, she'd said nothing. Hid behind fear. Let the moment pass.
This time, she would stand in it.
Speak.
Risk.
Be seen.
When they arrived at her apartment, Risa stretched her arms above her head. "Finally. If I see another clothes rack today, I'm burning it."
"You say that," Lumi said, stepping lightly up the stairs, "but give it twenty-four hours and you'll be dragging us back in."
Risa made a sound of mock offense. "I'm a creature of taste, not addiction."
"Mm-hm," Amy hummed, unlocking the door.
Sunlight pooled through the living room windows, the mid-morning warmth filtering in like a quiet promise. Shopping bags rustled as they set everything down, dropping onto the couch like warriors returning from battle.
"I vote breakfast round two," Lumi said, kicking her shoes off. "And maybe a nap."
"God," Risa groaned, face half-buried in a pillow. "Yes, to both."
Amy stood for a moment, taking it all in. The peace. The chatter. The ordinary, extraordinary feeling of being surrounded by people who made the silence feel full.
The party wasn't until seven.
For now… there was time.
Time to breathe.
Time to plan.
Time to let herself feel the difference this second chance had already made.