CHAPTER 23

DEPRIVATION

POPPY

In the past, I’ve always managed a breakup, or a timeout, or whatever it is I’m calling this by staying busy. So that’s exactly what I’m trying to do now. On Wednesday night I bring tea and cookies over to Mr. Goldberg’s. It’s too cold to sit outside, so we eat at his kitchen table instead.

“I haven’t seen your boyfriend lately. Everything okay there?” He dips a gingersnap into his teacup. He uses fine china because it reminds him of his wife, even though the handles are difficult for him to manage.

“They’ve had an away series. They’ll be back in a couple of days.” I don’t want to get into my relationship problems with Mr. Goldberg, mostly because I think it might make me cry.

“Well, if you wouldn’t mind asking him to bring by some of those special oat biscuits when he’s back, that would be lovely. I think they’re my new favorite.”

“I’m sorry, oat biscuits?”

“I think that’s what they are. Sometimes when you’re still at work, he stops by with cookies and snacks.”

“You’re talking about Lance?” I had no idea Lance was sweet-talking my neighbor. He hadn’t mentioned it even once.

“Unless you’ve got another redheaded boyfriend you’re hiding somewhere, Miss Poppy, that’s the one. He offered to help me get out all the Christmas decorations this year. Which is nice of him. Trudy loved Christmas.”

I remembered last year the decorations had been missing, when usually they went up right after Thanksgiving. “I can come help, too.”

He pats my hand and gives me a watery smile. “That’d be lovely, dear.”

The rest of the week passes in the same slow, achy fashion. Work, which is usually a good distraction, is dragging today. I’m half-grateful, half-worried about having tomorrow off. As much as I need a day off, the free time means my mind has endless time for wandering, and I can spend the day watching PVR hockey games, unless I make alternate plans..

Lance has been gone for the past seven days, and I’ve watched the games obsessively. He’s averaged three penalties a night, and there’s been nothing to see on the bunny sites. Tonight they’re finally playing again in Chicago. Knowing he’ll be in the city again seems to make the hurt worse.

I hate that I don’t know more about who he is beyond the confines of my house and what the media says. It’s hard to gauge how truthful he’s been with me because I only know this narrow aspect of his life.

“Poppy?” April snaps her fingers in front of my face, and I jerk.

“Huh?”

“Your next client is going to be here soon. Do you need help with the sheets?” She looks pointedly at the ball of cloth in my arms. I’ve been staring off into space for the past few minutes, it appears.

“Sure. Yeah. Thanks.”

She rounds the table, takes the used sheets out of my hands, and grabs a fresh set. “Just call him.”

“I’m not ready.” It’s been eleven days. Lance hasn’t so much as texted me. As I asked. I should be happy about this.

I’m not.

The silence is painful, even though it was requested.

I’ve kept myself occupied by spending time with April, going to yoga, having tea with Mr. Goldberg; I even went to see my parents last weekend. It amazes me that in such a short span of time, one person could have filled so much of my life that even the busy-ness doesn’t take away the ache of his absence.

“You’re not ready, or you’re too scared?” April prods.

“I don’t know. Both maybe.”

“Do you know what you want yet?”

I absolutely do. I want him. I want him to want me as his girlfriend. I want to have more sleepovers. I want to find him naked in my kitchen, rummaging around in my cupboards for gummy bears. More than that, I want him to let me into the rest of his life. I want to be invited to games, to meet his friends, to see him as a whole, and not just a series of puzzle pieces I can’t fit together because so many are missing.

But I’m terrified of how that plays out for me. I think I can deal with the media exposure; I even think I can handle a bitch ex-girlfriend. And I’m not afraid to love someone who’s been broken. But that’s the extent of what I can control. I worry about being separated from the rest of his life, and that he’s keeping me away for a reason.

“I don’t know,” is the answer I give April, though.

She throws up her hands. “Why can’t you admit that you’re into this guy and call?”

“He hasn’t contacted me in almost two weeks.”

“Because you asked him not to.”

Now it’s my turn with the hand gestures. “Why are boys so complicated?”

“Because they have penises. Or peni. What is the plural of penis?” She’s trying to be funny, and most of the time it would work.

“You’re not helping.”

“Why don’t we go out tonight?” she suggests. “It’s Saturday! We’ll get dressed up and go dancing. You can cut loose and have one drink. I’ll have six or seven. We can flirt with dumb boys.”

“There’s a game on.”

This gets me another look. “It’ll be over by ten unless they go into overtime. Neither of us works tomorrow. You need something to take your mind off your boy problems, not feed into them.”

“And you think being rubbed on by random strangers is the answer to that?”

“It’s far better than waiting for a phone call you asked not to receive.”

She’s right, even though I hate to admit it. I still have that stupid picture on my phone. I know I need to delete the evidence, but I can’t bring myself to do it. And like an idiot I’ve checked that Natasha girl’s profile.

She’s been posting old pictures of her and Lance—not just the two of them, but her with the whole team, or shots of them all working out. It’s another reminder that I’m only on the fringe of his world, and makes me wonder all over again how much I can trust him, whether what he shows me about himself is real.

“I’ll think about it.” I tuck the sheets in and throw the heating pad on. My next client gets cold.

A brief knock is followed by Bernadette’s disembodied head appearing around the doorjamb. She rarely leaves the comfort of her desk, so it must be important.

“What’s up?” I ask nervously.

“Um…there are two women here to see you.”

“About treatment?”

“Uh, no. They said they’re friends of Lance.”

April and I exchange a look.

“Oh. Ah, I guess I’ll be right out?” It’s more question than answer.

“They’re right here. They were quite insistent,” she whispers.

“Oh.” My stomach flips. If it’s a couple of Lance’s former conquests, I might throw up for real—hopefully directly on them.

“Do you want me to stay?” April asks.

“Please. Yes.”

Bernadette opens the door, and two women appear. Two gorgeous women. I try not to imagine them naked. Or Lance naked with them. One has short dark hair, almost black, cut in a bob. She’s tiny and lean, with stunning almond-shaped eyes. The other one is a little taller, with long, wavy auburn hair, huge boobs, and a narrow little waist. I can’t tell if they’re real or fake—her boobs.

They both smile and look from me to April and back again.

“You must be Poppy,” Boobs says to me. Then she turns to her friend. “Oh my God! She is so cute! Can you even imagine how adorable their little ginger babies would be?”

April cough-chokes.

“Ohh...” Boobs makes a face. “Is that politically correct? Can a non-ginger use the word ginger when referencing another ginger? Is that offensive?” She looks to me for some kind of response. “I mean, my hair is auburn, so I guess it’s kind of reddish, but I don’t know if it’s red enough to qualify me for the use of the word ginger.”

I’m so confused right now.

“Violet, tone down your crazy a notch,” says the other one. She gives me a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry. I’d like to tell you she’s not always like this, but that would be a complete lie. I’m Lily, and this is Violet. We’re friends of Lance.”

The name Violet is familiar. I think Lance has mentioned her before.

“What kind of friends?”

This is an incredibly odd conversation to be having with women I automatically assume have had sex with Lance, because I don’t see him having a lot of female friends. This makes me want to rip their faces off—and that is a very non-me kind of reaction.

Boobs, or Violet, makes another face. It rivals one of April’s. “Not that kind of friend. I’m married.”

Violet holds out her left hand and nearly blinds me with the giant rock on her ring finger. Her nails are pretty and fancy. I can’t have long nails because of my job. They also can’t have polish on them. Hers are painted in Chicago’s colors.

She points to the girl beside her, Lily. “And this one is living with Balls.”

At my furrowed brow, Lily elaborates. “I’m Randy Ballistic’s girlfriend. We live together.”

“In his house,” Violet says. They both snicker.

“Am I supposed to understand what’s going on here?” I ask.

“Um, probably not. Sorry.” Lily looks apologetic.

“We’re here to stage an intervention,” Violet declares.

“I still don’t understand.”

“Me either.” April moves to stand beside me. She crosses her arms over her chest. She’s not very threatening, though. She’s too sweet looking, and gangly.

“To get you and Lance back together,” Lily explains. She looks at Violet. “Maybe this wasn’t a great idea. I think we just look like nutters right now.”

“It’s a fantastic idea,” Violet counters. “Lance is the reason Alex and I are married. Lance is part of the reason you and Nut Sac christen every bathroom in the greater Chicago area. It is our job to give Lance his happy ending.” Violet scrunches up her nose and makes a jerking-off motion. “But not that kind of happy ending. Well, maybe. Hopefully, actually.”

“Violet,” Lily hisses. “Sorry. We’re not crazy. Well, she is, but I’m not. Look, Lance is really sad, and we know it’s because he’s missing you. Randy says he moped around the entire time they were on the road, and he’s been moping around since he got back to Chicago last night. So we want to sort of help smooth things over.”

“Look, I appreciate you trying to help, but I need time to figure this out on my own.” This is so weird.

April coughs a word that sound a lot like liar.

“I don’t think we’re doing a very good job here, Lily. I knew we should’ve brought Sunny.”

“Sunny?” April asks.

“Sunshine, my sister-in-law. My stepbrother, Miller, knocked her up, so now she’s like my stepsister-in-law and my sister-in-law. It’s all very incesty soap opera. Except there’s no actual incest,” Violet explains.

“Is Sunshine a yoga instructor?” April asks.

“You know her?” Violet’s eyes light up.

“We took her class until she went on maternity leave. We miss her so much, don’t we, Poppy?” April nudges me.

“We do.” This is the most bizarre conversation ever. Talk about six degrees of separation.

“I’ll tell her that when I see her later. She’ll probably cry. She cries over almost everything right now. Yesterday Logan made spit bubbles, and she cried over the cuteness,” Violet says.

I’ve stopped speaking, because my brain can’t fit all these puzzle pieces together.

“Oh my God. What a small world! Did you know this?” April gives me an accusing glare.

“Yeah, I guess I did,” I say. There’s a little nugget of his outside life I did know about, I suppose. “Did he ask you to come here?”

“No. Oh, hell no. If he knew we were here he’d probably shit a pot of gold.” Violet shakes her head vigorously.

“He’s Scottish, not Irish, Vi.” Lily rolls her eyes.

I think I might like her despite all of this.

“Whatever. It’s the same part of the world. Just like Canada and the US are almost the same.”

Lily’s eyes nearly pop out of her head. She looks so horrified. “Not even fucking close.”

“You say eh and corner the market on all the real maple treats. We say hey and like the fake maple-flavored garbage, and you call mac and cheese something weird.”

“It’s KD, and that has nothing to do with you always mistaking Lance for Irish. That’s not the same as Scottish. Anyway, we have a purpose here.” Lily shoves her hand in Violet’s purse, rummages around, and produces an envelope. It’s bent at the corners. She flattens it and pulls out the contents. “We have two tickets to tonight’s game.”

“Really great seats right on center ice behind the bench,” Violet chimes in.

I take them from her. “Why are you giving these to me?”

“We want you to come,” Lily says.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” I finger the tickets. The seats are incredible. They must cost a small fortune. “I haven’t spoken to Lance in a while.” And he’s never wanted me to come…

“Look, we know Lance’s reputation isn’t great, and it’s not all rumors making it that way, but he’s a good guy, and he’s, like, totally into you. He’s moping, and Lance doesn’t do the moping thing, like, ever.” Lily gives me an imploring look. “Violet and I both know how hard it can be to date one of these guys.”

“When I started dating Alex I heard the hat trick rumor,” Violet offers. “Later I found out it wasn’t actually true, but when I thought it was… Well, I puked all over his shoes. It was epic. But now we’re married.”

“And Randy had a huge player reputation. I mean, most of it was actually legitimate because he was a player, but well, that’s changed.”

“We’ve known Lance for a while now, and neither of us has ever seen him this hung up on anyone.”

“Not even Tash?” I arch an eyebrow.

They exchange a look. “That situation is comp—”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Complicated. So I’ve been told.”

Violet grimaces. “He would probably kill me for saying this, but she really messed with his head, and Lance, he’s not the way the media likes to portray him. I mean, yeah, he’s done the bunny business, but I think it’s blown way out of proportion. He hasn’t had it easy. Anyway, you should come to the game. See him play. We’ll all be sitting in the same section, so you can see what it’s like. And Sunny will be there with the baby, too.”

“Really?” April gets all excited and checks out the tickets. “Holy shit! These seats are killer! We have to go.”

“So Lance doesn’t know you’re doing this?”

“Hell no. He’s been adamant about making sure you have your space. I tried to get him to call you, but he refused. He said he doesn’t want to do to you what Tash did to him.”

If Lance wants this to work, and it certainly seems like he does, he has to let me into this part of his life. Which is why I decide to take the tickets.

“Okay. We’ll come.”

“Yes!” April begins to bounce.

“But you can’t tell Lance. It has to be a surprise,” Violet says.

“I don’t know…”

“I bet he’ll be so happy when he sees you sitting in the stands; he’ll forget to be mad at me for doing this. When Alex was a stupid dick and told the world we were just friends on national TV, I stopped talking to him for a month. Then he was so excited when I showed up at the final game of the Cup championships. Chicago won, and he stole his own thunder by grabbing a microphone from a reporter and asking me to be his girlfriend.” Violet sighs.

“She rambles a lot,” Lily says.

Violet blinks a few times, like she’s coming out of a daze. She waves the hand with the ring on it around. “Anyway, we have a car picking us up at six at my place. We can swing by your house on the way if you’d like, so you don’t have to worry about getting there.”

“Yes. That’s perfect! Thank you so much,” April answers for me. “Come on, Poppy, you’ve been sulking for almost two weeks.”

She’s right. I have. And this scenario is exactly what I need to put into action what I’ve already decided in my head. I’ll get to see firsthand what this world is going to be like outside the confines of my bedroom and my house. And how Lance handles me being there.

We exchange numbers, which is strange all over again, and Violet and Lily high five each other, hug me, and leave.

“That was surreal,” I say once they’re gone.

“And awesome!” April adds. “Oh my God. We’re going to a hockey game! And our seats are amazing.”

I share her excitement and fear what it means that my heart is beating so hard right now. My decision is made. And my heart is terrified.

I’ve changed my outfit three times. I’ve redone my makeup twice. And I’m not really a makeup girl.

I’m wearing a pair of dark jeans and a green top, because Lance has mentioned that he likes the way I look in green. I’m also wearing my pale yellow and green flowered bra and panty set. It’s very feminine. I don’t expect he’s going to see it.

Okay. Who am I kidding? Now that I’ve made the decision to go to the game—and start hashing this mess out—a significant part of me wants tonight to end with him at least getting a glimpse of it. But I’m so nervous. Because this whole situation is entirely unprecedented. The wife of the captain of the team and the girlfriend of the legendary Randy Ballistic are picking up me and April so we can go to the game together. Something Lance never asked me to do. And he doesn’t know.

I consider texting him.

I want to text him.

But it’s just hours until the game, and by this point it’s unlikely he has his phone with him. If he does, I don’t want to be a distraction—the way right now he’s totally mine.

The car that comes to get us is a black extended SUV limo with tinted windows. I follow April out of the house to find Mr. Goldberg, who I’ve had a lot more tea with over the past week or so, chatting up Violet.

“Ladies night out, Miss Poppy?” he asks.

“We’re going to a hockey game, Mr. Goldberg. This is Violet; she’s married to Alex Waters, Chicago’s team captain.”

“Is that so? Violet Waters, that’s a lovely name.”

I’m positive he’s checking out her rack. She’s wearing a form-fitting sweater with the Chicago logo on it.

“It makes me sound like a Disney princess, right?” Violet says with a big grin.

“That it does. Have a nice night, ladies. Be safe, Miss Poppy, and if you see that boyfriend of yours, make sure you remind him I’m out of those biscuits.”

“I’ll be sure to let him know.”

“What’s that about?” April asks.

I shake my head. “Nothing important. I’ll tell you later.”

I wave and get in the car where the rest of the girls are waiting. Lily’s sitting to the left with a baby seat between her and Sunshine—or Sunny, I guess her friends call her—and

there’s another woman I’ve never met seated behind her. She looks vaguely familiar.

Sunshine’s face lights up when she sees us. “Hi, girls! How are you? It’s so nice to see you!” We give each other awkward side hugs since I’m hunched over and she’s sitting.

“Is this Logan?” I peek in at the tiny sleeping bundle in the car seat, covered with blankets. “Is this his first game?”

“It’s his fourth.” Sunshine smiles proudly. “I hope he’s awake for at least a few minutes this time.”

I move to the bench seat on the right where there’s room to sit, and April goes in for hugs, then joins me.

The woman on the other side of Logan extends her hand. “I’m Charlene.”

“She’s dating Darren Westinghouse,” Violet calls from the front seat. “Or whatever she’s decided to call it.”

I don’t know what that means, but I introduce myself and April, and then we’re on our way to the game. Charlene, Violet, Lily, and April drink champagne while Sunshine and I drink sparkling juice. She’s breastfeeding, and I don’t want to be tipsy before I’m even at the rink.

It doesn’t take long to get to the arena. We’re dropped off at a private entrance, and we have some kind of special pass that allows us to avoid all the line-ups and security checks along the way to the ice.

“Okay, so things to prepare for before we get to our seats.” Violet laces her arm through mine. “There will be bunnies wearing jerseys like they’re dresses with Lance’s number on them. They’ll have signs and things that say they love him. That’s normal. Sometimes a few of them will be sitting close by, and you can hear their conversations. It can be funny, and sometimes disturbing.”

“You mean like that time you called out one of Randy’s bunny conquests before the game even started?” Lily asks snidely.

“She was asking for it.”

“The humiliation was mine,” Lily says.

“They’re making it out to be worse than it is.” Sunshine adjusts Logan, who’s now strapped to the front of her body in a carrier that looks more complicated than a straight jacket.

He’s resting his cheek on her boob, eyes closed and lips parted. He looks like a sleeping angel with his pale blond ringlets curling out of the tiny red hat he’s wearing.

“Miller had a horrible reputation when I started dating him. Probably almost as bad as Lance’s.”

I don’t think she’s saying this to be mean. I don’t think Sunshine has a mean bone in her body, to be quite honest.

“I let it interfere for way too long before I finally decided it didn’t matter what the media or the bunnies said and did. Who Miller was with before me isn’t important—not that it didn’t bother me at the time.”

Being with Lance when it’s just him and me isn’t a problem. It’s being allowed to engage with the rest of his life that’s the issue.

“How did you deal with it?”

“At first? Not all that well. I should’ve been prepared since Alex had a terrible rep, even if most of it wasn’t true. But it’s a lot different with a brother than a boyfriend.”

“But you got over it obviously.” I motion to sleeping Logan.

“I did. It took a while for me to figure out what I wanted. But when it comes down to it, it’s about how Miller is with me. Everyone said the same thing when we started dating: that they’d never seen him like this with anyone else. It was the same way with Randy and Lily, and with my brother and Violet. And that’s how Lance is about you. I know some of the rumors are true, and with Miller, a lot of the rumors were true. But he was worth getting over it for.” She pats Logan’s bottom when he makes a snuffling sound and kisses the top of his head.

She looks so in love, and happy.

“Thanks for sharing that.” I mean it. That I’m being taken in by these women who obviously care about Lance—and have not slept with him—gives me new perspective. The man they’re describing seems like the person I know, and that’s reassuring.

Our seats are amazing. We’re right behind Chicago’s bench, which is currently empty. I’ll be able to see the back of Lance’s head the entire game.

Violet and the other girls all get drinks. Sunshine asks for hot water and produces a tea bag.

“They don’t have herbal here,” she explains.

I want hot chocolate, but I don’t know if it will cause Lance to have an allergic reaction. I definitely want to leave open the option for kissing. Maybe more, depending.

When they announce the teams, butterflies flit around in my stomach and try to flutter their way up my throat. Chicago skates onto the ice, and I immediately search for jersey number twenty-one.

“There he is!” April elbows me in the side a little too hard.

“Ow!”

“Sorry.” She’s bouncy. She’s almost finished her drink, which is either her second or third, depending on how much champagne she had in the limo.

I scan the ice and spot him. He’s halfway around the rink and moving quickly, following right behind number sixty-nine. That’s Randy, Lily’s boyfriend.

As they take the bench, they knock on the glass, waving to the girls. Lance waves absently and takes a seat, his mouth set in a thin line. He’s serious on the ice, from what I’ve witnessed in all my game watching. Randy taps the Plexiglas with his glove, winking at Lily. He scans the rest of the row and does a double take when he sees me. His eyes dart back to Lily with questions in them. She gives him a big grin, which he returns with a shake of his head. But it’s not a bad look.

He knocks Lance on the shoulder and motions to where I’m sitting. Lance cocks his head to the side, looking confused, then does his own double take.

I give him a shy, uncertain wave, because I can’t read his expression. Will he want me here? The smile that spreads across his face makes my heart sprint.

After that I’m high on adrenaline, and it’s an amazing game. The bunnies Violet warned me about are definitely here, but they don’t matter. At least not right now. My focus is exclusively on Lance. He stays out of trouble on the ice, for the most part. He gets one penalty for sticking, but keeps out of the box other than that. Chicago pulls out the win, and the crowd buzzes with positive energy, taking my nerves to the next level along with them.

When the team leaves the ice at the end of the game, heading for the locker room, Lance stops at our row. Violet is at the end, and I’m a few seats in. He says something to Violet, and there’s a bit of back and forth before he motions to me.

April tugs on my arm. “He wants to talk to you.”

I get up unsteadily, feeling his gaze as I make my way down the aisle. His eyes dart over my face and down my body. I feel like I’m being consumed from the look alone.

“You’ll come out with the girls after the game?”

“I can.”

His arms are full of gear. His hair is soaked with sweat. His face is red from exertion. He’s gorgeous.

“And we can talk? If you’re ready.”

“I’m ready. We can talk.”

“Okay. I’ll see you soon.” He hesitates, his eyes darting to my lips like he wants to kiss me. I wouldn’t mind if he did, although the location is highly public. Public is what I’ve been saying I wanted, but I’d like to keep any affection fairly PG considering the number of bunnies in the arena. No need to invite drama if I don’t have to.

Lance must sense my nervousness, because he graces me with another one of his grins, takes my hand in his, and brings my knuckles to his lips. Very PG. The sound he makes is inaudible over the noise, but I feel the hum on my skin. Flashes go off around us.

“Come on, Romance. You’re holding up the team.” A player knocks his shoulder.

His head snaps up, and he gives the guy a dirty look before turning back to me. “I’ll be as quick as I can getting to you.” He clomps off and disappears down the hall toward the locker room.

Most of the girls are buzzed and silly as we make our way out of the arena and back to the limo. Logan is asleep again.

“Does he ever make noise?” I ask Sunshine.

“Only at three in the morning when we’re all supposed to be sleeping peacefully.” She’s smiling, though, and patting his bottom. “Mostly he can sleep through anything; otherwise I wouldn’t have him out. And Miller’s parents are taking him for the afternoon tomorrow, so I’ll be able to make up whatever sleep I miss tonight.” She gives me a wink. “Nap time with Miller is my favorite.”

Lily falls into step beside me. “I thought cookie time was your favorite.”

Sunny blushes and twirls a lock of hair around her finger. “That too.”

At my confused expression, Lily’s smile grows wider. “That’s what Miller calls oral. Randy calls it beard conditioning.”

I clap a hand over my mouth and laugh. I’d ask if they’re always so open, but I assume the amount of sex Lance and I had is normal for this crowd, so these conversations must be fairly regular.

I’m all nerves by the time we get to the bar. And when we enter, it seems the bunnies have multiplied. I didn’t think that was why they called them bunnies. So many girls in short skirts wearing jerseys hang around the bar, watching as we make our way to the closed area. Their jealousy is almost palpable.

We get comfortable and order drinks—I get a Shirley Temple. I settle in with Sunshine on one side of me and April on the other. Logan’s decided now is a good time to wake up.

“Are you comfortable with babies?” Sunshine asks.

“Sure.” I have cousins with little ones, and when I was younger I used to babysit all the time.

“Do you mind?” She holds him out to me. “I can’t find his binky, and there’s a hat I want to put on him before his daddy gets here.”

“Of course!” I slip my arm under his head, and she carefully transfers him into my arms.

He’s small, but he’s got some heft to him. I coo as I turn him around so he can see his mother. He startles at a sudden burst of noise, his wide eyes staring up at me as if I’m the reason behind it.

The team is here. I tear my eyes from the precious little bundle I’ve been entrusted with and look up, searching for the man I’m here for. I spot him across the bar, and his arrival sends a shot of lust from my brain to my girl parts. He’s wearing a navy suit with the jacket unbuttoned, a gray shirt, and a black tie with the team logo on it. He searches the area until his eyes fall on me, his worried expression transforming into a tentative smile.

April makes excited noises beside me.

“Girl, I hope your beaver is ready,” Violet says from across the table. “That look he’s giving you may incinerate the clothes right off your body!”

I’d sacrifice this outfit for that end result.