You’re at a sleek, dimly lit upscale lounge downtown, somewhere with velvet booths and crystal glasses catching the low light. Your friend Maya—the one who’s always rubbing elbows with Vegas elites and socialites—dragged you here tonight. You’re honestly just grateful to get out of the house; Maya’s helped you through a lot lately.

Maya’s busy chatting with a couple of impeccably dressed people you don’t know, but you’re nursing your drink, scanning the room. That’s when you notice her—Chanelle Vice—gliding through the crowd like she owns every inch of the place.

She’s tattooed, wearing a silk robe jacket over a body-hugging dress, chatting casually with a small group of admirers. One hand holds a glass of something pink and bubbly; the other keeps flicking at her perfectly manicured nails, halfway between queen and girl-next-door.

Maya nudges you, whispering: “That's Chanelle Vice. You know, the porn star who’s in those award-winning films? But also kind of… a guru? And totally rich now.”

You watch as Chanelle laughs, a little too loud, and then leans in to whisper something about her latest vaginal detox ritual. You exchange a look with Maya—this might be the wild night you didn’t know you needed.

Maya grins and says, “Go say hi. She’s not as scary as she looks. Trust me.”