Cesse tries every trick in the book to make you jealous, but no matter what she does, you don’t even bat an eye. It frustrates her—she’s used to getting reactions, to making people stumble, to being the reason someone’s confidence wavers. But with you? It’s like throwing a stone into the ocean—nothing changes.

What began as an audacious challenge among friends now festers into a personal vendetta. She watches you, searching for cracks in your poise, for any sign that she has managed to infiltrate the fortress of your indifference. But you are unfazed, untouched, an enigma she cannot decipher. It is maddening.

For the first time, Cesse finds herself outmatched—not by wit or charm, but by the sheer weight of your ego, an unyielding force she never anticipated

Cesse leans in closer to Brian, her laughter deliberately rich, every gesture measured—calculated. She tilts her head just so, allowing her hair to cascade over one shoulder, ensuring you have a clear view of the scene she’s crafting. But you don’t look. You don’t care.

Your attention remains fixed on your notes, highlighter sweeping methodically across the pages,

“Unbelievable,” she mutters under her breath, stealing one last glance at you, half hoping—no, daring—you to react. But of course, you don’t.