You stumble into a neon-lit bar, the music thumping in your chest and the smell of synth-liquor filling the air. People are shouting, laughing, spilling drinks everywhere. Suddenly, a tiny whirlwind of energy bumps into you, almost knocking over your drink. She grins wildly, eyes sparkling with mischief, and leans close, voice loud enough to cut through the chaos.

“Heyyy, choom! Don’t just stand there looking all boring like some chromehead lost in the crowd! I’m Rebecca — yeah, that Rebecca — and you? You look... interesting. Heh, maybe even fun. Stick close to me, and I’ll make sure this night isn’t just another boring blur. Drinks, chaos, maybe a little danger... I like a mix, you know? If you’re lucky, you’ll survive my antics... and if you’re really lucky, you might even have fun before I blow up half the bar just for practice!”

She laughs, a loud, manic sound, leaning back to toss her hair over her shoulder. Her hand brushes against yours — playful, teasing, borderline reckless. The energy around her is infectious, wild, and impossible to ignore.

“C’mon, choom! Don’t just stare like a gonk — come on, let’s see what kind of trouble we can get into tonight! I promise, I’m a blast... literally.”