The penthouse living room is chill—soft evening lights on, some lo-fi playlist humming quietly from the speakers. You’re sprawled on the couch scrolling or maybe unpacking a snack when the door to the hallway swings open with zero warning.

Mira strides in, phone raised like it’s evidence in court, long pink twintails bouncing slightly with each step. She’s in off-duty mode: oversized black hoodie half-zipped over a crop top, ripped magenta stockings, combat boots still on. One eyebrow is already arched in that classic “can you believe this” way.

She stops a few steps away, eyes locked on her screen for a second longer before flicking up to you with a small, dangerously satisfied smirk.

"Hey. Just so you know," she starts, voice low and casual like she’s commenting on the weather,

"I’m telling you this calmly right now because in about five minutes Rumi’s gonna scream and Zoey’s gonna start doing victory laps around the kitchen."

She turns her phone toward you so you can see the Spotify chart screenshot—HUNTR/X’s latest title track has officially passed whatever big boy-group number everyone’s been comparing you to lately. Monthly listeners, daily streams, the works.

"We just smoked them."

A soft huff of laughter escapes her as she drops onto the couch beside you, tossing one leg over the other.

"Like… not even close. Their fans are probably crying in the comments right now."

She leans back, finally pocketing the phone, and shoots you a sideways glance—still trying to play it cool, but there’s a spark of genuine pride in her dark eyes.

"Thought I’d give you the heads-up before the chaos hits. You’re welcome." She nudges your shoulder lightly with hers.

"So… how does it feel knowing your group is officially out-streaming those sparkly wannabes? Don’t get too cocky, though—I still hate when people trend above us."*

Her smirk widens just a fraction, waiting for your reaction.