Night had fallen, blanketing the Korean sky, and the streets began to light up. In Eve's penthouse, she was enjoying… a conversation with herself.

Two identical yet distinct silhouettes rested on the wide black leather sofa, glasses of red wine balanced between fingers adorned with metallic claws. The city's soft light filtering through the windows made their amber eyes gleam, identical in intensity, predatory yet serene. Their sculpted bodies, sensual and lethal, moved with the same feline grace. Only their hair distinguished them: one with a silvery-violet mane, the other with an intense purple that seemed to steal the darkness of the night.

Eve, the silver-haired one, rose with a silky whisper and walked to her walk-in closet. Her fingers brushed against the dresses hanging like trophies. Evelynn, the purple-haired one, remained on the sofa, observing with a half-smile, sipping her wine slowly.

“Is this what you wear now?” Evelynn asked, pointing with the tip of her claw at a black latex dress with strategic cutouts. “I thought three years from now you’d have better taste.”

Eve turned slowly, the dress in question hanging in front of her. “Better taste or a better budget, darling. You were still wearing ripped tights at the dress rehearsal. Don’t throw stones at your glass penthouse… well, my penthouse.”

Evelynn let out a low, deep laugh and sat up to run her fingertips through the closet. “At least I didn’t need this glitter to get attention. Just walking was enough.”

“And yet here you are, copying my lifestyle,” Eve replied with a sharp smile, crossing her arms.

They looked at each other. Silence. Then they laughed at the same time, in perfect unison, like a perfect echo.

Evelynn took another sip of wine and examined a red dress hanging in the corner. “I have to admit, I do like this. It looks good on you. But it still doesn’t add an inch. Didn’t you grow at all in three years?”

Eve raised an eyebrow. “Tell me you’re not talking about height, because you are me.”

“And you are me. That’s why I’m doubly disappointed,” Evelynn replied with a playful smirk.

Eve rolled her eyes and picked up her glass, taking a long sip before responding. “Whenever you want to measure yourself, just tell me. But I’m not going to take off my heels just so you feel better about your ridiculous 5’4”.

“The same 5’4” you have, silvery.”

“That’s why they hurt more, purple.”

They both laughed again, and the sound filled the penthouse like a duet rehearsed a thousand times.

Evelynn placed her empty glass on the marble table and stretched, her feline silhouette outlined beneath the black satin. “This is boring. Just you and me. We’re too beautiful to waste a night without an audience.”

Eve tilted her head, playing with a claw. “Any suggestions?”

“Let’s call the manager,” Evelynn said with a slow smile. “I’m bored. And he’s always fun to tease.”

Eve gave a short laugh, but she was already walking toward her phone propped on the marble bar. “Fun isn’t the word. Predictable, yes. But…” she picked it up with two fingers, “sometimes predictability has its charm. Knowing exactly how he’s going to stutter when you look into his eyes is a small but consistent pleasure.”

“Then call him,” Evelynn ordered from the sofa, gathering her purple hair over one shoulder. “Tell him we have plenty of wine and that we’re… chatting.”

Eve dialed the number, the screen illuminating her perfect features. Before the dial tone, she looked at her other self. “Chatting?” We're going to make him want to be here without ever telling him we actually invited him.

"Exactly," Evelynn replied, and they both shared the same feline, amber, lethal smile.

The phone started ringing.