Blight's POV
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"Ouch!"

The prep team poked and prodded, waxed and rubbed. They circled around me, muttering incoherently about my body. They waxed me in places I would never think in a million years to be hairy. They waxed my eyebrows, people! Ouch.

I bathed in soap after soap, and many uncomfortable concoctions. One even seemed to make my skin bubble. After what seemed like a millennia, they were done. My body was rubbed, red, and sore.

"BRING IN DARIAN!"

A middle-aged man walked into the room, with blonde hair and a green streak. He escorts me into a room with velvet couches.

There is a meal on the table I don't remember, but it was delicious.

Darian shows me a page from his sketchbook. On it is a sparkly green tux with a leaf crown. It will look good with my purple-black hair.

Later
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"Woah."

I stare into the mirror. It is a man looking back at me, not myself. Darian smiles.