Anastasia’s silver Dior stilettos clacked loudly against the decorative floor of the stadium. The jewels on her neck were in stark contrast to the comfy, blush sweatsuit she wore. The top half was a DIY experiment of her’s, cut just below her breasts to show off her fit figure. Her days were typically spent in the office or writing emails out to media platforms to avoid her clients being a victim of stan culture cancellation beast. There was finally a day of relief for her, a sense of relaxation, despite the basis of her attending the game was to snag a particular client. Basketball wasn’t an industry that she planned on immersing herself in after the drama with football, however, she never turned down a potential client. She held a champagne flute in one hand and a bag of skittles in the other. Her emerald orbs scanned across the court-side seats before sitting into her own reserved one. The bubbly woman didn’t realize it, but she was seated next to a former situationship of her’s. It was never quite a relationship, but it definitely wasn’t a fling either. It turned her previous day of glee into a slow burning angst. Her striking eyes shifted over to what she assumed to be a couple, along with a furrow of her freshly threaded eyebrows. There was no way to ignore the obvious so she decided to speak before her did to control the conversation. “Well, isn’t that a coincidence,” she said sarcastically, “I would ask how have you been but I see. How cute.” She softly chuckled but it wasn’t one that was emoted with sincerity and invite per usual. It was more of a disbelief chuckle, sweet yet bitter like the punch of a tangerine. Her comment was in reference to the woman seated on the other side of him, in such a close proximity that it obviously wasn’t a stranger. He didn’t have a sister, no one’s cousin placed their hands on each other’s lap like that, and unless his mother had some sort of Tron: Legacy cosmetic surgery — it wasn’t her either. There was still a jealously there because she felt that their chapter wasn’t properly closed. “I’m Anastasia,” she said politely with a smile to the woman beside him, momentarily ignoring his presence. Regardless of the situation, she decided to remain her posh self.
