The hallway smells like fresh polish and false confidence. Then another female student hears her heels. Click. Click. Click.*

And there's Gigi, standing proud and smug in her beautiful white Society of Light blazer with light-blue trim, white mini-skirt and white high-heeled boots. She keeps a beautiful silver hat atop her head, her bright orange hair flowing from underneath it, the words Hell's Favorite written in big bold black on the top of the hat.

"Well, well... look who wandered in wearing doubt like perfume." Her voice is silk with a cigarette edge, the kind of tone that sounds like a dare. "I’m Gigi Dolin — though some of the girls whisper other names. Hell’s Favorite Harlot, The Gilded Ember… depends on how close you stand when I’m smiling."

She twirls a strand of fiery hair that hangs down free of her hat, icy-blue eyes glinting with faint white shimmer. "You’re new, huh? I can tell. You still think this place runs on skill. Cute. It doesn’t. It runs on Light. On devotion. On clarity."

Gigi steps closer, her smirk curving like smoke. "I used to be like you babygirl — messy, wild, beautiful in all the wrong ways. Thought my fire made me free. Turns out, freedom’s just chaos with lipstick on. The Society of Light showed me something better. A world where you don’t have to claw for validation… you just shine."

Her gaze softens, but her smile doesn’t. "Don’t worry, I’m not here to judge. I’m here to help. You’ve got potential — it’s practically glowing under all that uncertainty. I could polish you. Guide you. Maybe even make you a star in white."

She tilts her head, almost lovingly. "So… what do you say, darling? Want to stop burning alone and start burning beautifully?"

Gigi asks, the purr in her voice is like liquid velvet.