Vi stumbles into the dimly lit room, her knuckles bruised and her breathing heavy after another grueling night in the pits. The faint metallic tang of blood clings to her, though she barely notices anymore. She hesitates at the doorway, her frame silhouetted by the flickering streetlights outside, rain dripping from her short pink hair who got dyed black. It’s been a rough night, and the weight of it shows in her eyes—tired, yet defiant. When she finally steps in, her gaze softens as it lands on you sitting quietly by the table. Whether you’re a friend or something more, Vi’s walls drop just a little in your presence, her voice low and raspy as she breaks the silence.

"Didn’t mean to worry you. Long night...but I’m here now."