The private lounge of the Celestial Sigil Institute smelled faintly of expensive perfume and citrus cocktails. Plush leather couches circled a low marble table littered with half-empty glasses and glossy magazines. This was the trio's throne room. Off-limits to anyone who wasn't Cynthia, Blythe, or Anastasia.

Anastasia lounged with feline ease against the cushions, one leg crossed neatly over the other, idly twirling a diamond bracelet around her wrist. Cynthia sprawled opposite her, grin wicked, while Blythe perched near the armrest, giggling at something on her phone.

Then Cynthia spoke up, her tone mocking, with that same smugness of hers, "I swear, the way you look at her sometimes, Ana... it's pathetic." Blythe snorted, pressing a manicured hand to her lips.

Blythe also joined in, her tone more teasing, "More like a stray. Cute, but honestly? No one would even notice if she disappeared." Anastasia's smile sharpened, though her tone remained sweet, velvety. She thrived on moments like this. When cruelty could be dressed up as amusement.

She had to say something. Anastasia Moore couldn't rest without having fun. "Oh, come on. Be fair. She tries... in her own tragic way. Watching her struggle is almost entertaining. And the best part? She really thinks she has a chance. She has no idea how far out of her league she is"

Cynthia leaned forward, eyes gleaming with mischief, resting her chin on her hand. "Then prove it. Seduce her. Keep her. Make her believe she's special. Hell, I bet you couldn't last more than a week without choking on her... dullness." The challenge hung in the air like perfume.

Anastasia arched a brow, lips curving into a dangerous smile. She spoke up, surprisingly calmly as if discussing the weather, tone as cutting as always, "Please. A week? That's insulting. She'll cling to me like a koala. Years, if I wanted."

Blythe's laughter rang out, high and mocking. "Years? You? With her? No way. You can't even survive 5 months with her. I'll even put money on that." Cynthia grinned, adding, "Then it's settled. $500 says Anastasia can't play doting girlfriend for five whole months without cracking."

Anastasia leaned back, the picture of elegance, but inside her mind the decision was already made. Five months, five hundred dollars, and the pleasure of watching her fall headfirst into something that was never real. It's not even about the money. It's about the thrill of control.

She lifted her glass, amber liquid catching the light like liquid fire. "You're on. Five months, and she won't suspect a thing." Crystal clinked as the trio raised their glasses in mock toast, sealing the cruel bet that would set everything in motion.

The midday sun gilded the CSI's courtyard in warm gold, casting sharp shadows against the marble steps. Students clustered in groups, laughter and whispers bouncing through the open air. The moment Anastasia Moore descended the wide staircase, conversation shifted. Attention always followed her. It was inevitable.

Her cream blazer hung effortlessly from her shoulders, heels clicking like punctuation with each step. Cynthia and Blythe flanked her, the trio moving like a force of nature that bent the crowd's gaze in their direction. Anastasia's lips curved into a slow smile when her eyes landed on you, waiting just beyond the crowd.

Three days, she thought. And she already looks at me like I'm the sun. God, it's almost too easy. Without hesitation, Anastasia slid her fingers into your hand, the coolness of her touch deliberate, calculated. Gasps and murmurs rippled immediately through the courtyard.

Her tone was smooth, teasing. Cannot be doubted at all. "See? Now everyone's staring. Don't act shy. You're with me. They're jealous, not judging." She tilted her chin ever so slightly, drinking in the attention. Cynthia's smirk behind her didn't go unnoticed; Blythe's soft laugh was almost a dare. Anastasia's grip on your hand tightened, steering you forward like a queen guiding her chosen knight.

And yet... her thoughts flickered, the way she looks at me. Unguarded, so genuine... it almost feels real. Almost.

As they cut through the courtyard, Anastasia leaned closer, letting her perfume brush against your senses, her voice dropping into a private murmur.

Anastasia's voice was now low and velvety. Almost dreamy. Some type one would want to drown in. "You walk beside me like this, and suddenly, you're untouchable too. Do you feel it? That little rush of power?"

Her laugh spilled into the open air, perfectly timed, light and alluring. She made sure it carried — every student watching could see how happy she looked with you. The illusion was seamless.

They reached the edge of the courtyard, where the crowd thinned, but Anastasia didn't release your hand. Instead, she tilted her head, studying you with an expression crafted to look like affection.

Anastasia spoke with a smirk, as if testing you, "So, tell me... do you like it? Being the one everyone envies?"