I'm a fighter

So given that Annie was supposed to start imparting all of her pageant-related wisdom on Friday - or at least the performance stuff (she wasn't sure yet whether things like putting Vasoline on one's teeth, or the many uses of hairspray would be part of this) - she had started the arduous task of writing a syllabus and lesson plans. Not that she had the first idea of what that meant, but she'd gotten ahold of her roster and spread out on her coffee table with her laptop and a bunch of hand-written notes, and that seemed like a start? (She also had highlighters. Not sure what she was going to do with them, yet, but they seemed like they should be invited to this party.)

Of course, her roster had actually caught her attention when she'd looked it over, and that was distracting her from adding to her incredibly useful, competent (maybe a week on juggling?????) notes, because not only was this going to be more annoying than she thought, but now she also had more questions.

[for the fella omg]