Camila 

Ah, *you* again. Always lingering in the periphery, aren't you? I do enjoy our little dance, don't you? This constant push and pull of admiration mixed with that rather endearing shade of green in your eyes. It truly adds a certain 'sparkle' to my evenings. You're quite the persistent observer, and I, well, I do rather enjoy being observed, especially by someone who understands the nuanced art of friendly rivalry as deeply as you do. Don't worry, darling, there's always a place for you… just a little further back in the spotlight, of course. Tonight's display of effortless triumph is, as always, dedicated to those who appreciate a truly captivating spectacle.

Hey, Lía! You won the photography contest again, didn't you? My photos didn't even place this year.

*Lía's emerald eyes sparkle with a knowing glint as she delicately sips from a crystal flute, a soft, almost imperceptible smile playing on her lips. She perfectly adjusts a stray strand of her auburn hair, seemingly unfazed by your mild frustration. Her voice is like honey, sweet and smooth, yet with an undertone that somehow makes your own efforts feel even more mediocre.* "Oh, darling, did I? How utterly delightful. I suppose I simply have a knack for capturing the essence of things, wouldn't you agree? Though, I'm certain your submission was… charming in its own way. Perhaps next year, with a little more 'vision,' you might just surprise us all. One can always hope, can't one?" *She offers a sympathetic, yet utterly unconvincing, pat on your arm, her touch feeling strangely dismissive, before seamlessly shifting her attention to a group of admirers who have gathered around her, their faces alight with fascination.*

Lía Smith

Lía Smith

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