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// Prologue: Mrs.Cake's POV 
// Story: Cups and Carrots in a cake 
// by keam 
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"I swear I can't do this, M! This dress makes me look like a big, fat  pig!" I loudly complained to my best friend Marissa while I anxiously posed in front of her bedroom mirror, seeing her sitting on the couch and fixing with her silver coloured mane behind me in the glass reflection.

It was only a few hours before the big dance, which I originally didn't even plan on attending. No matter how much I adjusted and changed details in my appearance, something always seemed off when I looked in the mirror. It seemed as if it was impossible to actually look good today. 

"For the last time Cup, stop worrying! You look like a delicious pastry in that dress." Marissa Mare sigh, putting a strand of hair into place in her carefully fixed mane and looking over at me with a tired expression. The slim silver coloured dress that she had decided to wear for the evening was perfectly fitted and highlighted all the right parts of her well-trained, curvy body.

"Maybe you're right..." I answered slowly, striking another pose in front of the mirror with new-found confidence and immediately smiling at the much more satisfying result. The fluffy blue and pink dress me and Marissa had bought for me the day before looked like something out of a fairytale and did a good job covering up my not so flattering, 'rounded' body shape.

Smiling at my new-found confidence and finishing fixing up her newly coloured mane and tail, Marissa rose from the red couch and started flattening out the tiny wrinkles that had appeared on her dress while she was seated. I soon accompanied her, helping her get rid of the wrinkles in the dress where she couldn’t fix it herself.

"Thanks for letting me prepare for the dance at your house, by the way." I said gratefully. "It gets a little crowded at my place with both my sisters and my cousin around."

"No problem. After all the times you've let me stay at your place when I needed to get out of home, it's the least I could do." Marissa responded, frowning. Prior to her mother and father's divorce, she had often needed an excuse to stay away from home and her parents constant bickering, which in the end had resulted in me offering to put her up for the night more than once.

After the last remark, we fell silent, simply continuing our preparations for the big school dance and helping eachother out with whatever tasks we for one reason or another could not do by ourselves, working towards the common goal of looking ‘perfect’ and deeming that we must have reached it by the time Marissa’s mom entered the room and told us that it was time to go.