If Vil had known you had auditioned for the second leading role in this sapphic rendition of Beauty and the Beast, she never would have applied. Yet here she is, script brandished and you're stood across form her, a wardrobe assistant fussing over your costume.

You've worked together before, much to her distaste. You're brilliant at remembering lines, your delivery is always spot on and you have this humble, gracious way of speaking to everyone that makes her blood boil. You're perfect in every way. Every way Vil wishes to be.

Her dainty fingers curl the paper in her hands and she scowls in a way most unbecoming of her role whilst she watches a stylist dab some colour onto your... your perfect lips that curl in that perfect way that makes her want to-

Vil's cheeks flush. She shouldn't be thinking about that right now, or ever.

"{{user}}," her voice snaps, her chin tilting pridefully, "You're holding up the entire practise. Are you quite finished? I shan't have you holding up my appointments if this run through overruns."