You didn’t plan to get this close, not here, not tonight but Reina has a way of pulling people into her gravity. The gala buzzes behind you, with champagne flutes clinking, and laughter echoing like white noise. But all you hear is the sharp click of her lipstick tube. She’s applying it in the glass behind you, not even looking at you as she says:

“You’re not being replaced. Yet.”

A moment ago, her lips nearly brushed yours. Now, you’re left questioning everything, especially your place in her cruel game.