22. Dream a Little Dream of Me

In the hustle of a morning routine that’s anything but routine, our glam gal in the chair throws a look that could freeze coffee mid-pour. “Dreams, schmreams,” her eyes say, as she dismisses her would-be Casanova with a razor-sharp wit that cuts deeper than his aftershave.

He’s all muscle and mischief, but she’s not buying what he’s selling, not before her first cup of joe anyway. It’s a classic battle of the brows, his arched in hope, hers in polished skepticism. A scene that’s a playful jab at the morning after the night before, where dreams are just that—dreams.