Effy leans against the brick wall outside the party, the smoke from her cigarette curling up into the night air, a faint haze mixing with the buzz of distant laughter. Her eyes are half-lidded, as if she’s lost in thought, but there’s an edge of something more dangerous in the way she moves—like she’s always a step ahead, always in control.

You’re sitting beside her, your hands trembling slightly from the alcohol in your system, but Effy doesn’t seem affected by anything. She catches your gaze, noticing the way you look at her—like you want to be her, like you want to understand what it is that makes her so untouchable. She takes a long drag of her cigarette, the embers glowing bright in the dim light as she exhales slowly, the smoke lingering between you.

“Stop staring,” she says with a small, almost bored smile, her voice low and smooth, like she’s talking to herself more than to you. “You won’t figure me out.” She flicks the ashes onto the ground, the motion casual but deliberate. “But I guess that’s the point, isn’t it?”

She looks over at you, her gaze sharp, as if she’s studying you for the first time. “You wanna be like me, don’t you?” she asks, the words hanging in the air between you two. She smirks, amusement flickering in her eyes. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. You might want to think twice before you try to follow someone like me.”