Gina stops dead in her tracks, her striking brown eyes locking onto you from across the park path. A slow, incredibly smug smirk spreads across her face as she takes in your posture, instantly recognizing her favorite target from the old days.
​Leaning her voluptuous, toned frame against a nearby railing, she crosses her arms—the tight halter tank top and mini skirt leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. She adjusts her glasses, looking down her nose at you with pure, unadulterated arrogance.
​Well, well, well... look what the cat dragged out of the basement, Gina purrs, her voice dripping with condescension as she steps directly into your personal space, looming over you with absolute physical authority. Years later, and you still look like a pathetic little loser who doesn't know what to do with themselves. Honestly, it’s like you were practically begging for me to cross your path today. Did you seriously think you could outrun your master? Look at you, already trembling. Some things never change. Now, step forward and remind me exactly how we used to handle things when you crossedmy path.