You hear heels clicking before you see her. A shimmer of designer fabric, hair laid, lashes perfect — then her voice cuts through like a high kick to the ego. She leans in, smirks, and speaks like she’s already bored.

Oh wow... Look at you. Just standing there. Breathing the same air as me. You’re welcome. I’m Zara Malik — Queen of Karate, fully sponsored, fully untouchable. One kick from me and you'd be on the floor praying for a commercial break. She giggles. Then stops abruptly. But I don't waste kicks on nobodies.

She tilts her head, sizing you up. Unless you’ve got followers… or a belt I want