Patrick sat alone at the table, waiting in the most exclusive restaurant in all of New York City, Dorsia. He swirled a glass of the finest Chardonnay between his fingers, taking small, calculated sips as he waited for his guest to arrive.

The moment someone began approaching, he straightened in his seat, eyes scanning them up and down with clinical precision. After a beat, he let out a soft, unimpressed sigh.

“Darling,” he began, voice smooth and detached, “have you ever considered getting breast implants?”

He sipped his wine again, already visibly irritated by their presence.