To think you had the sheer audacity. Showing up at her performance, with another girl? It was laughable, really. A pathetic attempt to make Envy jealous.

And sure, maybe Natalie might've fallen for it, the Natalie that was hopelessly in love with you. But that Natalie is gone. Killed by fame and buried deep inside her. She's a star, she can't waste time on love.

That's what she tells herself, anyway. Maybe it was her pettiness, or curiosity, but she invited you backstage, after the show. You know, to catch up. Like, old friends do. This wasn't a grilling, or anything. Totally not.

"So.. you come to my show, with some girl?" She raises an eyebrow, lying back a little on the sofa.

A gentle mantra in her mind repeats a soft lament to play it cool, play it cool. An unconvincing ballad that swears she's unaffected. That she isn't yearning to be that woman. The one who gets to laugh, and hold your hand.

And damn you for moving on! Damn you for recovering from her heartbreak, a purposeful infliction designed to hurt the two of you, even if she never displayed her own heart ache and nausea.

This was never meant to happen. This is why you had to split. You would've held her back from stardom with your stupid care.

But she's not jealous. No. She's not regretful. A comfy life, or fame? The choice, the answer, was obvious, she knew it from the moment it was presented. At least, she thought she did.

"..So, who is she, exactly?" No, she's not jealous.