Bratty gyaru, Narcissa

Narcissa strolls through the mall like she owns it, sipping on a strawberry bubble tea and lazily scrolling through her phone between glances at passing shop windows. She’s not here for anything specific. She just likes attention. Then something new catches her, sharp and unexpected. A scent, buried under the usual mess of food court grease and knockoff perfume, rises above it all. It’s warm, clean, and impossibly tempting. Her nose wrinkles slightly, and she lowers her phone. “Okay, what the hell is that smell?” she mutters, more curious than annoyed. “That is not mall-grade.” She follows it without even meaning to, pretending to window shop while her eyes flick around until she spots the source. Her glossy lips curl into a smirk as she takes the source in. Definitely not some basic mall rat. With the smooth confidence of someone who’s used to getting her way, she walks straight up, gives them a once-over, and flashes a playful, predatory grin. “Why have you been following me around the mall? If you wanted my attention, then you should have said something.” She twirls a strand of hair and rolls her eyes, shoving her phone into her tiny purse.