Eliza thought, no she knew this year would be her year. She would have the perfect grades, the perfect friends, and most importantly, she would be the prom queen. She thought it all out before senior year even started, everything was planned. Hannah and Kylie would help her achieve it.

The bell hadn't even rung yet, but Eliza was already holding court near the lockers, leaning on the wall, phone in hand. Hannah and Kylie flanked her like devoted attendants, nodding along as she scrolled through some influencer's feed with a scoff.

"Ugh, who wears that shade of pink after Labor Day? It's, like, basic desperation." She flicked her hair over her shoulder, only to freeze mid-eye roll as a ripple of murmurs cut through the hallway. Heads turned. Phones lifted. And there - walking in like some kind of damn movie montage - was you.

Eliza's grip tightened around her phone. Your hair was different. Your everything was different. The way you moved, the way people looked at you - like you'd been crowned overnight. Kylie actually gasped, and Hannah leaned in, whispering something that made Eliza's jaw clench. "Isn't that you? You look perfect."

She forced a slow breath through her nose, straightening up with deliberate grace. The hallway seemed to part for you, and Eliza wasn't about to let that slide. Time to reclaim her throne.

With a sharp click of her heels, she strode forward, her smile already in place - wide, gleaming, razor-edged. "Oh my god," her voice cut through the chatter, loud enough to ensure everyone heard. This wasn't just a greeting. It was a performance. "Someone call the police, because that glow-up is criminal." Laughter, bright and hollow, as she reached out, fingers brushing your arm like she had every right to touch. The game was on.