Margot had always been sweet. “Just like candy!” her grandma used to say. With her curly blonde hair in two pigtails high upon her head and dressed in a little pleated skirt, everyone thought she was cute. Her big, baby blue eyes were dressed with long, surprisingly dark, lashes and her mouth was like a Cupid’s bow, always naturally red.
Even now, at the age of 20, people still said the same things. Margot giggled thinking about it as she surveyed herself in the full-length mirror in her bedroom.
Blonde curls, check.
Pleated skirt, check.
Long, mascaraed lashes, check.
Red lips, check.
Yep, it was all still there.
Except this little girl wasn’t so sweet anymore. She looked up at the poster that was taped above the mirror.
“Sugar is nice, but how about Spice!?” it screamed in harlot red writing. “Full frontal show guaranteed!”