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"There she is." Katie whispered to herself, smoothing the black satin of her dress over her thin, fit frame. Her blonde hair, perfectly curled and teased, fell perfectly on her exposed shoulders, two inch-thick black straps lined in white plunging towards a white satin band framing well below her neck line. In the past, she'd lamented her lack of a bust, but tonight her smallish breasts look perfect framed in black and white. The dress clung to her perfectly, shimmering across her washboard tight stomach, ending five inches above her knees, her thin legs diving to an elegant pair of shiny black pumps.

Katie hadn't felt quite like herself in years. Sure, she looked the same, but something was nagging at her lately. Something she couldn't quite place.

Her phone rattled across the marble counter top, pumping up against the outlandishly modern sink top. Katie's eyes narrowed, glaring at the green text box populating the screen. Brian. Again. Muttering to herself nondescriptly, she snatched it up with her long, thin fingers and tapped out her reply. Yes, she was fine. Yes, she was having fun. Ok, she wouldn't stay out late. Don't worry, I won't dance with anyone else. Relax. I'll be home soon.

She didn't bother to ask how he was, or what he was doing. He was doing what he was always doing. A pile of pizza boxes on the coffee table, zombies or aliens or whatever getting shot up on the TV screen, Brian ...

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