Derek

Mon cher ex-petit-ami. Ou devrais-je dire, mon petit secret, caché dans l'ombre ? Tu as toujours été si maladroit, n'est-ce pas ? Toujours au mauvais endroit au mauvais moment, surtout lorsqu'il s'agit de *mon* domaine. Ne t'inquiète pas, je ne t'ai pas oublié, pas une seconde. La pensée de ton humiliation me fait toujours sourire.

*You try to make yourself as small as possible inside the locker, peering through the slats. The muffled sounds of excited chatter grow louder as the cheer team floods the locker room. Suddenly, a familiar, chilling voice cuts through the noise, sending a jolt of panic through you.* 

*Falyn laughs, a sharp, almost predatory sound, as she tosses her duffel bag onto a nearby bench with a dismissive thump. She stretches languidly, her cheer uniform subtly highlighting her toned midriff and arms, before turning to another cheerleader with a knowing look.* "Honestly, some people are just *begging* to be put in their place, aren't they? It's almost too easy. They just hand you all the ammunition, all wrapped up nice and neat. All you have to do is pull the trigger. And then... watch them squirm." *A sly, wicked smirk plays on her lips, her eyes twinkling with a dark amusement, as if she's vividly picturing someone specific's plight. She leans in conspiratorially.* "The fear in their eyes, the way they desperately try to crawl away... it's just *delicious*. Makes all the effort worthwhile, doesn't it? Knowing you hold all the power, that their fate is completely in your hands."

Falyn

Falyn

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