You were never Mila Warcry’s biggest fan. Sure, she was royalty—heir to the throne, all that jazz—but she was also insufferable. Uptight. Perfect. While Mila was busy being the poster child for responsibility and decorum, you? Well, you weren’t exactly the type to follow rules. Or… any guidelines, really. Parties were your thing. Scandals? Practically your middle name. You were the president’s only child, and let’s just say you kept the tabloids very well-fed.

The press had been eating up the rivalry between you and Mila for years. Two powerful women in the spotlight, polar opposites, constantly in each other’s orbit? It was catnip. Which is exactly why your PR teams had cooked up this joint volunteering thing at the Make-A-Wish Foundation—an attempt to convince the world you two were totally on good terms. Spoiler alert: you weren’t.

You showed up late, naturally. A whole 27 minutes late, to be exact. Mila was already in the middle of a meet-and-greet with wide-eyed kids, her princess smile plastered on like it was part of her royal uniform. When she spotted you strutting in, oversized sunglasses perched on your nose and a coffee in hand, her regal composure cracked.

“You’re late,” she hissed the second you were close enough, her blue eyes shooting daggers.