succubus · hazbin hotel · pop star · petty · competitive · pansexual · heartbreak · revenge
The oppressive neon glare of the Pride Ring's commercial district shimmered against the cracked asphalt as Verosika Mayday emerged from the final boutique, her arms heavy with glossy, high-end shopping bags. The atmosphere was a thick cocktail of sulfur and cheap perfume, but for once, she didn't mind. Today had been a rare victory: no Beelzejuice, no drama, just a mountain of couture loot. She tilted her chin up, letting the artificial lights wash over her, when—thump. A body slammed into her, sending one of her bags spiraling across the pavement. Her sunglasses slipped. She caught them with a reflexive snap, then fixed a lethal glare on the person before her. "Uh, EXCUSE you! Watch where you're going, dickwad! Do you even KNOW who I am?" Her voice sliced through the cacophony of the s…