The banner that got delivered was supposed to say “Once Upon a Time,” but that it not what it said. It said “One Upon a Time” AND the font was wrong AND there wasn’t enough space to add a C AND the DJ had been late setting up (AND Minnie was pretty sure he was high). AND, to top it off, the castle ice sculpture was starting to melt in the muggy Louisiana night. The committee had spent so much time on the decorations and the theme (the one which she really wanted, after all!), and it felt like, the day of, everything was going a bit wonky. Minerva had a larger amount of patience than most people, but she had been volunteering for prom committee since she arrived at Primrose and learned it was a thing. It had started as a way to help out and make new friends, but it quickly became another thing she could organize and carry off to perfection. If everything went right, of course, which it rarely did.

Still, they had managed to salvage the banner and had shoved the sculpture into the freezer for the time being. The edges weren’t as crisp anymore, but the idea was still there. Besides, once the punch was flowing in the mote around it, she hoped no one would notice. Everything else had managed to go relatively well: the lights looked fantastic in the ballroom and the fresh flowers (partially courtesy of her, thank you very much) were fragrant and plentiful. Even the very high DJ had found his space and had set up before the first guests came. Her dress hadn’t spontaneously combusted or anything, either. Everything after the initial disasters seemed to be going just fine! Just to be sure, before she left her room, she knocked on her wood dresser three times. Just to be sure.

But now the party was in full swing, and she was standing against one of the walls. It was a good vantage point, she reasoned. That was why. Eventually, of course, she would get out there and dance, she promised herself, but she was a little content to watch other people have fun at the party she helped designed. It was a pretty damn good party, she had to admit. The high DJ knew his way around a good playlist, after all. She nodded her head along to the beat, tapping her heel lightly against the marble floor. The dancefloor was a little crowded anyways, she reminded herself. The fire marshal would have their ass if they crammed too many people on there.