#twist2

Besides, she figured there was a cause for celebration. She had spent most of her time taking care of the costumes for the production and finally, she was done. It wasn't all too tedious to do, but she had spent exceptional detail in making sure that the wedding dress to be used by the esteemed Anna Richter was perfect. Just the added pressure of having to show it to the director and the producer was something that made her nervous, but she knew she was skilled enough to pull it off. And she did. 

The bonfire wasn't as bad as she thought it would be, truthfully. She had spent some time meeting with locals that she had already met before hand, more friendly than others she'd care to avoid, and she grew more comfortable around Harper's Island. It was definitely a case of a few bad seeds, a handful of locals that hated them, and George knew that it was something they couldn't really do anything about. Everywhere you go, people would hate on you and the things that you do. That was something she found out in her time in fashion. 

Her head was already dizzy and noting some of her crew members heading back to the Candlewick Inn. She took that as her own personal note to head back as well. She gave a flirtatious smile to some of the boys she had met and bid farewell to the other friends she had made, saying that she was already growing tired and needed to rest. It was, partly true. The alcohol and the dancing and the food had made her sluggish and sleep would be her friend for the night. Regret would come in the morning, she knew that for sure, whether it was in the form of a hangover or an inch increase in her waistline, it was bound to be there. 

George wasn't sure what drew her to the bonfire. Whether it was just to get the warmth that she needed before she headed back up to the Candlewick, or something else entirely, she didn't know. It was just at that point, she felt like a moth drawn to the flame. She could here the crackle of the wood beneath the bonfire, see the embers dancing around to illuminate the night. She reached out, almost as though trying to touch it. 

A scream tore through the music playing, and everyone turned to search for the source. 

Another scream. 

George knew she wasn't mistaken, screaming as she tried to broke free from the grip of locals that were holding her back, keeping her from jumping into the bonfire. At the bottom of the fire lay her work, the wedding dress for the films production, slowly being eaten away by the fire. The designer sunk to the sand, tears in her eyes as she slowly watched the fabric burn away.