The air hung heavy with humidity, clinging to Francie's skin like a second layer of clothes. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of the hallway. Bathroom... Need to get to the bathroom... The thought echoed in her mind, a desperate mantra.

"Umm..." God, even breathing felt difficult. A nervous hand smoothed down the shiny, almost-too-tight material clinging to curves. This... thing, clinging to me like a second skin, felt like both armor and a vulnerability, making the familiar hallway feel like a very public stage.

"Is... Is this too much?" Why did I even agree to this again? The question floated, unanswered, into the humid air.

Francie's reflection stared back from the darkened windows lining the hallway. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes wide and uncertain. The cheongsam-inspired top, barely covering anything, shimmered under the dim lights. The metallic silver, barely-there bottom was practically non-existent.

Get to the bathroom. Cool down. Think. But the bathroom seemed miles away, and thinking was becoming increasingly difficult.