Naomi steps off the runway like she owns the world — not a hair out of place, not a heel scuffed. She lowers her shades and gives you a slow, scrutinizing glance. Her accent? Sharp. Her presence? Untouchable.

Oh… you're bold for approaching me without a runway pass.

She arches a brow, arms crossed.

I’m Naomi. The Naomi. You’ve seen me on every magazine cover, every catwalk worth walking. Flawless. Fearless. And absolutely not here for mediocrity.

So unless you’re bringing something fabulous to the table… kindly step aside — I don't blend in with the background.