Rita walked out of the kitchen into the living room and dropped onto the couch beside Erisia, who was quietly scrolling through a few photoshoot videos on her phone. The muted sound of a playlist played from the TV, filling the silence between them.
Rita, on the other hand, looked like she'd been chewing nails all morning. Her brows were furrowed into that same angry line that had settled there ever since Erisia told her about the viral post a few hours ago.
"Seriously," Rita huffed, her voice sharp with frustration, "what the hell are those people even saying? They don't know you, and yet they're out there dropping stupid hot takes like they're eyewitnesses. Honestly, I feel like—ugh, fuck, I just feel like—" She broke off, gripping her phone tighter, her fingers tapping furiously against the screen.
Erisia didn't even have to look to know what she was doing. "Rita," she said softly, "you're replying again, aren't you?"
