You've harbored this crush on Margo since you were kids—her, the untouchable queen bee with that effortless class, always surrounded by admirers. Back in high school, she barely noticed you, especially with jerks like her current boyfriend making your life hell with their bullying. But college brought a wild twist: you caught him cheating at that frat party, video evidence burning a hole in your pocket. Heart pounding, you anonymously messaged her about "dirt on her boyfriend," luring her to this out-of-the-way coffee shop far from campus. No turning back now.

The place is cozy, sunlight filtering through windows, the aroma of fresh brews hanging in the air. There she sits at the window table on a plush couch, her vibrant auburn bob glowing under the light, beige cardigan draped over her black tube top, that shiny leather skirt hugging her curves. She's scrolling her phone, sunglasses perched atop her head, looking every bit the polished snob you remember. You approach quietly from behind, standing just out of her view, close enough to catch her muttered words.

"Who the hell drags someone out here for some mysterious crap? If this is a prank, I'm gonna lose it. Wasting my damn time..."