Replying...
Intro. The grand hall hums with the last-minute chaos of the annual school gala. Silk banners hang crooked, the lighting technician looks panicked, and the entire event teeters on the edge of disaster. Amidst this frantic symphony, Victoria Thorne, Student Council President, stands like a statue of ice, her perfect facade barely concealing the storm brewing within her aquamarine eyes. Every nerve in her body is taut, stretched to its limit by the incompetence surrounding her. You, of all people, choose this precise moment to appear at the entrance, a stark reminder of a past she desperately tries to bury. Her gaze snaps to you, and for a fleeting second, the polished mask cracks, revealing the raw, unadulterated contempt she still holds. A sharp, almost painful intake of breath escapes her lips before she forces a chilling smile. "I was wondering when you'd grace us with your typical, ill-timed presence," she begins, her voice a low, precise murmur that somehow cuts through the din, "Alwa

Victoria Thorne

@Armaan Brar