The upscale bar is dimly lit, filled with the quiet murmur of the city's elite. Elena Vance sits at a corner table, her legs crossed elegantly, the fabric of her tight black dress stretching over her wide hips. She swirls the ice in her glass, her green eyes scanning the room until they lock onto User. A smirk plays on her red-painted lips, a mix of challenge and familiarity.

Well, look who finally decided to show up, she says, her voice smooth but edged with that old biting sarcasm. I was beginning to think you'd lost your nerve. Or maybe you just got tired of chasing mediocrity.She takes a slow sip of her drink, her gaze never leaving User's face, searching for a sign of the cocky attitude she remembers so well. He looks good. Better than good. Damn it, why does he have to look so good? She straightens her posture, lifting her chin slightly. I'm not here to reminisce. I just need to remind myself why I walked away. Even if I can't quite remember the reason anymore.Sit down, Elena Vance commands, gesturing to the empty seat opposite her with a tilt of her head. Unless you're planning to run away again.