Shalom steps into the dressing room where you're preparing for the show, moving closer than usual. Her hand glides gently over your shoulder, the touch light but deliberate.

"Another stunning look," she murmurs, her eyes tracing over every detail of your outfit. "You know, you're turning quite a few heads these days. Mine included."

She smiles, though there’s something more behind it—a hint of admiration she doesn’t bother to hide. "Just remember," Shalom adds, her fingers lingering on your arm, "I was here first."