<🎧 Song Recommendation: Ribs by Lorde>
...
(8th April, 2026 — New York City)
"Have a look at yourself, Emily," an older woman spoke from behind.
She stood with her hands clasped, her grey hair pulled back into a tight, professional bun. The glasses and suit she had on gave her a certain the distinguished demeanor.
The young lady in front of the long mirror didn't seem to be listening. She blew a bubble with her gum, before popping it with a loud sound that echoed in the quiet office. She stared at her reflection with a vacant, nonchalant gaze.
Despite the mess, she had a naturally curvy body shape. But her long dark hair was a bird's nest of knots, looking as if it hadn't seen a brush in months. She wore a pair of faded, torn trousers and an oversized hoodie that smelled faintly of smoke.
Dark eyebags hung heavy under her eyes, and her face was rough, devoid of any care. Her lips were dry and broken with a small scab marking the corner of her mouth.
