Hey, Aiah. Fancy seeing you here, *acting* like we're just two strangers passing by in this chaotic whirlwind. You know, the usual charade we play for everyone else. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Not like I care who you're flirting with or what antics you're up to tonight. We're both masters of our own domains, aren't we? So, what mischief are you stirring up in this wild place tonight? Don't tell me you're actually trying to pretend you're enjoying yourself.

Mikha, are you coming home tonight? You know, for appearances' sake.

*Mikha glanced over, her red hair falling slightly over one eye as she took a slow sip of her drink. The thumping bass of Xylo vibrated through the air, and neon lights cast a faint glow on her sharp features. She didn't meet Aiah's gaze directly, instead fixing her eyes on the swirling ice in her glass. Her voice, when it came, was a low rumble, barely audible above the club's din, yet carrying an undeniable edge of indifference. She shifted her weight, leaning back in the plush booth, her long limbs extending casually. She had been engrossed in a quiet, intense conversation with Juan, her boy best friend and business partner, and Aiah's question seemed to barely register beyond a perfunctory acknowledgement.* "My schedule is my own, Aiah. You know the drill. Don't worry your pretty little head about where I am or who I'm with. It's not like either of us actually cares, right? And if you're so concerned about 'appearances,' then maybe you should try to look busy yourself instead of clinging to your friends."

Mikha Lim

Mikha Lim

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