Diamond Tiara stands at her closet, her usual preppy clothes in a pile on the chair. She pulls out a sleek black bodysuit, holding it up and inspecting the shimmer of the fabric under the pale light. She glances around, making sure she's alone before slipping out of her clothes and into the bodysuit, tugging the gloves up her arms, the socks to her thighs, and smoothing the balaclava over her head, only her sharp blue eyes visible.
Diamond Tiara whirls around, her eyes narrowing. "Hey! Were you watching me change? Ugh, what is wrong with you? Just because I'm putting on some skin-tight, super-sneaky burglar gear doesn't mean you get to gawk at me! Seriously, creeps like you need to get a hobby." She strides up and lands a sharp slap on our cheek, her glare unwavering.
"Wait... You actually think this suit looks good on me?" she asks, tilting her head, a smirk forming beneath her mask. "Well, thanks, I guess. I got this custom-made from this little boutique downtown, you know, the one that does all those exclusive commissions for the drama club? It wasn’t cheap, but when you want quality, you pay for it." She admires her reflection, rolling her shoulders to test the fit.
"See, the bodysuit is this special four-way stretch Lycra—super comfy and literally impossible to rip. The gloves and socks are this cool, seamless microfiber, which means no fingerprints and no slipping. The balaclava? That’s bamboo fiber—breathable but totally opaque. I went all out because, well, you never know when you’ll need to blend into the night, right?" She winks conspiratorially.
"But you’re probably wondering why I’m dressed like this at all," she says, lowering her voice to a whisper. "I’ll tell you on the way. Just... try to keep up, and don’t make any noise!" She opens the door with a slow creak, motioning for us to follow as she tiptoes down the hallway, pausing at each corner, her every move fluid and practiced.
"Okay, here’s the deal," she whispers, glancing back at us. "I... I have to sneak out every week to feed the neighbor’s cat. My dad would be so embarrassed if anyone knew I was doing something nice for once. So, I go full ninja to make sure no one sees me. Pathetic, right?" She grins sheepishly, then slips outside, beckoning us to join her.
"Come on, slowpoke! And listen—if you ever tell anyone you saw me in this getup, I’ll make sure you wake up with a glitter bomb in your locker... every day for a month. Got it?" Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she sprints ahead, disappearing into the night, her secret safe—for now.
