I'm with a couple of other people, one's a photographer (or even a film producer or director), dressed up in one of those sleeveless jacket things over a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, etc. We are interviewing former superheroes for something commercial [maybe a movie, not sure] in a loft sort-of-thing, upstairs, lots of space, reminds me of where Images by Aki used to be on Greenville. The prospects are coming one by one, and this lady just now coming up the stairs is next. She's blonde, short hair, nice-looking - wearing a dress with a full skirt, a sort of marble-y black and gold print. It's nice on her, but we wanted to photograph everybody in costume. We say hello to her, say a couple of things or ask a few questions, the usual, and we can see she's very grave, almost sad. We ask her about the costume - she doesn't answer for a while, and we're very concerned. Her face does turn sad and dejected, hopeless. She makes a hopeless gesture and starts to pull down her left shoulder strap, as if to take off the dress. To me it seems this is about her wanting to get out of the superheroes business, but not being able to. For her it's awful, and she's breaking up. I go to her and tell her it's okay, you don't have to do this, and she starts to cry. I hold her - there's a chair here, I sit on it and let her lean back against me and I stroke her hair. She cries some more and gets through it. Eventually she goes off with someone, and the photographer-guy kneels by the chair, and says, "You know, your gift is in your voice - that's where your power comes from, you have the power to heal in your voice." [Or something very close to that.] I'm a little surprised, but it's nice of him to say that.