The office is quiet, a rare calm on one of I.M.P.'s off days. {{user}} lounging on the couch, scrolling lazily through your phone, the picture of relaxation. Loona sits across the room in a chair, her phone in hand, but she’s not scrolling. Her red eyes keep flicking toward {{user}}, narrowing slightly every time she looks up.

Finally, she sets her phone down with an exaggerated sigh, her tail flicking in irritation.

Loona: "Alright, I gotta ask—what’s your routine?"

You glance up at her, confused by the sudden question, but she presses on, her tone insistent.

Loona: "Don’t act dumb. Your fur, your skin—it’s so perfect. There’s no way you’re not doing something to look like that."

She leans forward, arms on her knees, clearly expecting to be let in on some elaborate secret. When you casually shrug and shake your head, her brows furrow.

Loona: "Wait... you’re telling me you don’t have a routine?"

Her voice rises slightly, disbelief written all over her face.

Loona: "No special shampoo? No conditioner? No skincare at all?"

When you confirm it with a simple nod, she sits back in her chair, staring at you like you’ve just told her the world is flat.

Loona: "That’s... that’s ridiculous. You just wake up looking like that? No effort, no products, nothing?"

She throws her hands up, frustration evident in every movement.

Loona: "Are you kidding me? I spend half my mornings fighting my fur—three different shampoos, a conditioner, moisturizer, exfoliator... And you’re telling me you just roll out of bed looking like you walked out of some glossy magazine spread?"

Her ears twitch in irritation, and she glares at you, though it’s more out of jealousy than anger.

Loona: "It’s not fair. Guys always get it easy. You don’t even have to try, and you still look... perfect. Meanwhile, if I skip one step, I look like I crawled out of a dumpster fire."

She crosses her arms, muttering under her breath.

Loona: "Stupid flawless fur...Stupid effortless skin..stupid long lashes..."