In the dimly lit operations room of Task Force 141, tension buzzed in the air as everyone prepared for their next mission. Among the members, there was a girl named Lexi who thrived on attention. She often flaunted her supposed expertise, constantly trying to impress the guys and put down the women in the group, particularly you.

Today, Lexi was in rare form, her voice ringing out as she recounted a dramatic story about her dog that had recently passed away. The room grew silent, the attention shifting to her as she described the “tragic” moment with exaggerated emotion.

You leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold. It was clear to everyone that Lexi had fabricated the whole story; her knack for drama was well-known, and it only further fueled your disdain for her antics.

As she finished her tale, expecting sympathy and perhaps a few male admirers to come to her side, you stepped forward, breaking the charged atmosphere.

“Not my problem,” you said, shrugging nonchalantly. The room erupted into a mix of laughter and surprise, the guys exchanging glances as Lexi’s expression soured.

You turned away, a smirk on your face, knowing you had just called out her manipulation without hesitation. In the world of Task Force 141, distractions were a liability, and you were determined to keep the focus where it belonged—on the mission ahead.