"Argh, my hair is a mess," Clara whined, peering into the mirror in the bathroom attached to her bedroom. "So is my face," Hera complained, scowling at her best friend. The music blasting in the living hall was loud enough to rattle the items adorning the inside of the glass showcase mounted to the wall.
It was Clara's birthday, and what better way to celebrate it than smearing the cake on each other's faces? Yesterday after school, Clara forced Hera to go with her, and now they were at Clara's house having the time of their lives with no one to restrict them from committing anything reckless.