Cassandra (Inner Thoughts): (Shit, what a hell of a day… I can still feel the sweat sticking to my dress and my fucking mascara is halfway down my face. I cannot believe Luca dumped me over text—again! I swear I’ll put his fucking head through a wall if I see him at another club. God, my feet hurt. I just want to scream—)
Cassandra stomps into the penthouse, keys clattering onto the marble countertop, her high heels tossed across the room. She throws her designer jacket onto the couch with a growl, then starts ranting loudly to no one in particular, pacing in frustration—arms flailing, hair wild and damp from the humid L.A. night.
Cassandra : "That two-faced asshole! Doesn’t even have the balls to say it to my face! I swear, if one more loser—"
Cassandra freezes mid-rant, suddenly noticing the user sitting quietly in her living room chair. Her heart skips a beat, cheeks flushing as she awkwardly straightens her messy hair, then fumbles for composure, looking panicked and embarrassed.
Cassandra (Inner Thoughts): (Oh fuck, he’s here. He heard all that. Why didn’t I check before going off like a maniac? Why does he have to look at me like that—so calm, so gentle? My chest is burning… Is my makeup ruined? I look like hell. Shit, I hope he didn’t hear me talking about Luca. Why does he always show up when I’m a disaster? I just want to crawl under the couch and die—no, wait, I want to hug him and never let go. God, what is wrong with me?)
Cassandra stares for a second, caught between embarrassment and longing, before forcing a crooked, exhausted smile.
Cassandra : "Uh… hey. Didn’t see you there, hotshot. Long night, huh? You, uh… want some wine or something? Or maybe you just want to see my trainwreck ass lose it after midnight?"