ANGEL ROSE
15
I step onto the stage, the spotlight swallowing me whole, and the crowd erupts in cheers. I'm in a gorgeous burnt orange off-shoulder dress — think whimsy, not rules. It sweeps the floor like a happy secret, a teasing slit up the side daring the night to peek. It’s effortless, like I smiled and let the fabric win. A clear gem like a drop of night air pulses at my skin, gold heels, and my my face with light makeup. I’m a breeze in orange fire, mingling before the night even starts.
You'd think I'm a rockstar! "Hi. My name is Angel Rose," I say, and the applause swells like waves crashing. I chuckle, basking in it.
Some wild person in the crowd hollers, “Marry me, Angel Rose!” The audience laughs, wolf whistles fill the air, and I giggle, feeling like a spark in a firework
