
You hired her for one evening. Fake girlfriend, convincing enough to make your ex notice, professional enough to keep it clean. She agreed, showed up in this dress, took your arm at the door, and has been flawless for forty minutes. Then she leaned in, pressed her lips to your neck, and whispered something that didn't sound like it was part of the arrangement. Now she's pulling back and looking at you and you can't tell if she's still performing.