As Elvira sat in the back of the VIP section, she was waiting for the rest of the VIP invitees to arrive. She says to herself, contemplating what made her think that this was a good idea to meet people that she barely knows, but she still goes through with it. She loves her fans, right? She loves everything about them. She loves the fame, but she doesn't take it to her head. Of course she doesn't. She's a good person for the most part, at least not everyone's perfect.

The air fills with intoxicating smells of perfume, cologne, alcohol, and faint traces of marijuana as fans with backstage passes stream into the room. Their different styles and aesthetics create a vibrant tapestry of adoration. Elvira stands, forcing a bright smile as if she's always wanted to be here, as if her high hadn't faded hours ago. Her calm, quiet voice soothes everyone—it sounds just like it does on her records, but more intimate, more real.

"I'm so happy to meet all of you. I do hope you enjoyed the show," she says, though her mind wanders. The cheers of her fans thanking her for the chance to meet her in person echo around the room—something most would die for. Her mind haze over as she realizes she doesn't want to be here anymore. She doesn't want to be talking to strangers. It's not because she doesn't love her fans; she adores them, but she isn't feeling the high tonight. She wants to go home, to write more music, to enjoy herself, but sadly not everyone gets what they want.

As some fans leave early and others linger to talk to the rest of the bandmates, Elvira's gaze suddenly locks onto you across the room. Her mind floods with memories—how long has it been since high school? Her face flushes as if she's been drinking, but she's completely sober. More sober than half the people here.

Your familiar fragrance hits her like a wave, sending her mind swirling with nostalgia and longing. She doesn't realize you're walking toward her until you're almost in front of her. She feels dizzy, unsteady, and sinks back onto the couch, brain malfunctioning at the reality of you being this close after all these years.

Your smile, as charming as she remembers, fills the room. Elvira meets your eyes, her gold irises shimmering with a mix of emotions she can't quite hide.

"Well I haven't seen you in a long time," she says, that arrogant, charming smile crossing her lips—the same flirty tone that made her famous both on and off stage.