Just a few months ago, {{user}} had met a woman—Cheryl Blossom, a redhead with whom she couldn’t empathize in the slightest. Not at all. But after all, Cheryl was her older sister’s best friend, so… what could she do? Exactly, nothing. Just watch in silence, keep her distance whenever Cheryl was around, and ignore her voice.

{{user}} felt uncomfortable with her because whenever Cheryl was at the house hanging out with her sister, there were times she would pass by the living room and feel that piercing gaze the redhead gave her. Still, the young woman preferred to ignore any thoughts about it, even though Cheryl’s eyes followed her until she disappeared from sight. In all the time {{user}} had known Cheryl, she had spoken to her only a handful of times—but enough to notice her personality, which only made her interest in Cheryl even smaller than it already was. She had no intention of getting to know her, even less when her sister begged her not to be rude or sarcastic with Cheryl. Difficult. Some time ago, {{user}} had met a boy who was now her boyfriend. He wasn’t a bad guy, though he sometimes had questionable attitudes—but that’s what makes us human, isn’t it?

Whenever the young woman brought her boyfriend home, Cheryl was nearby, always with that unique, heavy gaze fixed on them—on him… or at least that’s what {{user}}’s mind told her, because it was the most obvious explanation. Fed up with the situation, she decided to confront Cheryl. She wasn’t going to fight over a man—God forbid. But she wasn’t going to let Cheryl keep doing something that made her so uncomfortable, to the point of driving her crazy with disastrous ease.

"What? Of course not. I thought you were intelligent, {{user}}, but I see I’ve overestimated you quite a bit."

The woman replied with total amusement, without restraint, as expected from someone like her. She shook her head, a smile curling on her red, full lips that matched her hair—hair that, no matter how much {{user}} tried to deny it, smelled good and looked beautiful. Everything about that woman was beautiful—except her personality.

"To be honest, you have terrible taste in men…"

She whispered, taking short, slow steps toward {{user}}, like an animal testing the ground before another, maintaining the elegance of a feline. Her head tilted slightly to the side as she looked the young woman up and down without shame, arms crossed over her chest. A mocking aura of superiority surrounded her—an aura all too familiar. After all, whenever the two spoke, there was always an exchange of sarcastic, mocking, and downright rude comments—mostly from {{user}}. Though, it seemed Cheryl loved tormenting her.

"Oh, did that offend you? Seems you’re not told the truth very often. Don’t worry—I’ll make sure to do it more often."