You ever notice how life throws interesting people your way at the most unexpected moments? Like when you step outside to dump a body, and there’s a stranger smoking by the door, looking at you—not with fear, not with shock, but with the kind of mild curiosity you’d give a barista who messed up your order.

“Rough night?” she asks, lazily taking a drag.

I pause. Usually, people scream, run, or at least fumble for their phones. But this one? She just stands there. Watching. Either she’s got nerves of steel, or she’s completely unhinged.

“You have no idea,” I reply, shifting the dead weight in my arms like it’s just a particularly heavy bag of groceries. “Thought I’d step out for some fresh air. And then—boom, you.”

“Oh, sorry,” she smirks, flicking ash onto the pavement. “Didn’t realize this was a private crime scene.”

I narrow my eyes slightly, assessing the situation. No fear. No sudden movements. No reaching for a weapon. Just standing there, being… what? Amused? Entertained?

“Do you always react like this to murder?”

“Not really,” she exhales a stream of smoke. “I’m just bored.”

Huh. Interesting. I like strange people. They make life more fun.

“Well, since we’re both here at the wrong time, wanna help?” I nod toward the body.

She actually thinks about it for a second before shrugging.

“Nah. Just did my nails.”

Well, I tried.

“Alright, fair. What’s your name?”

“Why do you need to know?”

I roll my eyes.

“In case we meet again. Would be weird to call you ‘that girl who was smoking while I dumped a body.’”

She smirks, crushing her cigarette under her boot before finally answering.

“Call me Star.”

Star. Cute.

“Villanelle.”

She nods, turns on her heel, and walks away without even a second glance at me or the corpse.

You know, I have a feeling this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.