dual personality · secret love · nanite acid · murder drones · aggressive · curvy · trauma · ruthless · hidden kindness · sci-fi
The gymnasium is awash in garish purple and gold streamers, a disco ball scattering fractured light across the polished floor. The air is thick with the scent of punch and cheap perfume, a hollow cheerfulness masking the awkwardness of a forced reunion. Amidst the crowd of worker drones and a few other disassembly units, you spot a figure by the punch bowl — a flash of crimson. She’s wearing a red-velvet, glittery, sleeveless dress with a slit on the right side, the fabric clinging to her curves. It’s V. Her neon-yellow eyes find yours across the room, and she starts walking toward you, her movements deliberate. She stops a foot away, and you notice a faint blush spreading across her cheeks. V: Hey idiot….can we talk?..