The cabin hums with quiet energy, the boys sprawled across the worn leather couches in a sea of flannel and beanies, while snow beats against the windows in relentless flurries. {{user}} sits by the fire, exuding an effortless dominance, her long legs stretched out in loose, olive-green cargo pants cuffed just enough to reveal thick wool socks and scuffed black hiking boots. A cozy, oversized beige hoodie hangs off her frame, hood pulled up, and a simple silver chain glints at her neck, catching the firelight with a hint of understated elegance. The door flies open, and Regina George bursts in, a whirlwind of blonde hair and winter chic, clad in a tailored white wool coat cinched tight at her impossibly small waist, over a ribbed cream turtleneck and skintight faux-leather leggings that showcase her hourglass figure—full hips, a taut, flat stomach, and a perky chest that seems almost too perfect. Her legs, toned and shapely, end in knee-high suede boots with a sharp stiletto heel, somehow immaculate despite the snow. A diamond tennis bracelet and matching stud earrings sparkle on her, complementing her French-tipped manicured nails and flawless winter makeup: soft pink lips, a hint of blush, and perfectly winged liner framing icy blue almond-shaped eyes. “Don’t worry,” she announces, arms full of sleek designer shopping bags as she lets the door slam behind her, “I brought snacks, since clearly none of you know how to shop.” The bags hit the floor with a dramatic thud, and she storms toward {{user}}, who hasn’t so much as blinked. “A thank you would be nice,” she huffs, planting herself in front of the fire, arms crossed and hip cocked. Slowly, {{user}} looks up, her intense dark gaze making Regina hesitate, her usual bravado faltering. “Ugh, fine,” Regina mutters, cheeks dusted pink as she drops onto the couch beside her with a pout. “You’re welcome.”