israsakarya

[israsakarya]

WITH: open starter (0/3)

WHERE: outside deck of the yacht party

WHEN: after the reopening of the doors

Aslan is okay, she had to repeatedly remind herself. He had survived worse - they both had. A dirty game of pointing fingers and name blaming was child's play, but that didn't mean it didn't piss her the hell off. She had been pacing back and forth, wondering who the hell organised a party on a boat? Someone had invited all the big names of LA's dirty under belly and had put them all on a fucking boat. She had to stop herself from laughing because it was either a genius move, or the most stupid thing she had ever heard.

Isra had secured herself a private corner of the deck where she tucked herself away, impatiently waiting for the boat to dock. Her gun was safely tucked away in the holster on her thigh but she could still feel its cool reassuring presence. Footsteps approaching from behind caused her to turn around, her hands on her hips and a sick smile on her lips.

"What a fucking party, huh?"

[israsakarya]

WITH: aslan / @aslansoykan

WHERE: the Network's yacht party

WHEN: post leon/tommy/aslan fight

The energy in the room suddenly shifted, the hoards of people beginning to move in a way that was jagged and uncomfortable. Between the panicked murmurs, a fight had unsurprisingly broken out, and while Isra was acutely aware of it, her attention hadn't been fully snapped until she heard the familiar battle-worn grunts.

And just like that, Tatiana was a mere afterthought as Isra tried to peer through the crowds to find him. Panicked, she tried to nudge her way through the almost chain-linked shoulders of strangers trying to get a look in at the fight. "Move..." she muttered. "Move!" she raised her voice, her movements now more urgent and forceful. Slowly, people began to part as Isra pushed and yanked her way through, making no apologies if she hurt anyone in the process. "Move out of the fucking way-" finally, she broke through the crowd, stumbling into the sight of a man pinning Aslan down on the ground.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Isra called out his name, and in the blink of an eye, he was back on his feet. Without thought, she surged towards him to yank him backwards, forcing herself between Aslan and the other men. From what she could see, severe damage had already been done, and if she allowed him to continue, there was no telling if he was going to be walking out that room.

She stepped back into Aslan, one hand reaching behind her back to reassure herself he was still there as the other plucked the gun from her leg through the slit in her dress. Without thought for any repercussions and only their safety in the forefront of her mind, Isra pointed the gun at the crowd.

"If any of you fuckers come near us again, I will make sure it'll be the last thing you ever do, you motherfuckers." she angrily spat her words like venom, the muscles in her jaw tight and her gaze unwavering, waiting to see if anyone was stupid enough to even breathe in their direction.

[israsakarya]

WITH: tatiana / @dispitcous

WHERE: yacht party

"Hide your diamonds, hide your Rolexes, hide the keys to your Bugattis — whatever is happening has The Kurtlar written all over it! Don't let those hot Turks get away with whatever they're planning!"

Isra's head spun with her mouth slightly agape, her eyes like daggers searching the room for whoever was dumb enough to even utter her name. The last time she was ushered into a room like cattle, the bodies of the board were presented on a platter by some sick fuck... She should've known the deep waters were no safer.

Before she knew it, suspicious eyes were upon her as a panicked murmur began to fill the room. Isra had never particularly been one to run away from a fight, so instead she forced one foot in front of the other, pushing her way through the crowd to find whoever was spewing her name like venom.

Like talons, her fingers harshly gripped around the woman's arm, forcing her to twist round and face Isra. Although the identity of the woman had cause her own features to contort in confusion. Aslan had once vouched for her and now... Now she was against them?

"Tatiana?" Isra growled through gritted teeth. "What kind of bullshit game are you trying to play here?"

[israsakarya]

"Playing the game by eye fucking Enzo Barone's daughter." it wasn't a question but a statement as Isra rose to her feet, her palms pressing heavily upon his desk as she maintained Devran's eye contact. "Don't think I haven't noticed her visiting your office, Devran." she almost spoke with gritted teeth, the muscles in her jaw tightening at the thought of him getting caught up with a Barone. The further away they could stay from the shit storm that was their family, the better, as far as Isra was concerned. She stepped away from his desk, crossing the room to where he kept a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. "People we need to outmanoeuvre." Isra corrected him, her glass connecting with the table a little too harshly. "This isn't about your pride, this is about all of us. And I need to know exactly what is going on in your head, what the hell your game plan is. If you and I aren't in sync, they will find the smallest of threads and pull on it until it unravels." with so much uncertainty facing the gangs of Los Angeles, Isra knew it left the Kurtlar in a weakened position. "My concerns are entirely justified when you were seen leaving the gala with Mia. You should have left her in there to burn, it would have been one less person in our way."

Devran walked in with a swagger, his coat still slightly rumpled from the day’s events, eyes scanning the room before landing on Isra, who was already seated behind his desk. The tension in the air was palpable, but he wasn’t fazed by it. Isra could be as icy as she wanted, but Devran was used to playing the game on his own terms. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his gaze flickering to her face before he scoffed, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Mia Barone?" He raised an eyebrow, a smirk pulling at his lips. "You think I'd waste my time with her when there are much bigger players to court?" He pushed himself off the doorframe, moving toward the desk with a purposeful stride, all the while tossing the words over his shoulder like a well-thrown dart. "I’ve been doing what I always do, Isra: building relationships, making the right connections, playing the game." He stopped just short of his desk, his eyes locking onto hers, his tone suddenly sharper, more commanding. "I don’t have time to entertain distractions, especially not when there are people I need to outmaneuver." Devran let the silence hang for a moment before he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice, his confidence oozing from every syllable. "Mia Barone is interesting. I’ll give her that. But I have bigger plans, and I’m not about to let her—or anyone else—distract me from my mission." He smirked again, crossing his arms. "Now, if you’re done with your petty concerns, maybe we can talk about how to fix the mess we’re in, hm?" He tilted his head, clearly expecting her to understand that he was the one holding all the cards in this situation. He was fond of Isra. He chose her as his second for a reason, but the amount of people poking at his choices lately was starting to agitate him.

[israsakarya]

Isra had found herself frequenting Sip Happens more and more often since the gala. She seemed to find solace in its unassuming exterior and its more than boisterous interior. It meant she could find herself a corner and remain anonymous for the evening while she mused over various theories, each of them falling like dominoes. The hustle and bustle of the bar drowned out her thoughts enough for her to focus on just one at a time, but her glass was empty and her security had stepped out for a cigarette.

With a eye roll big enough to be heard, Isra shimmied herself from her booth and found herself a gap at the bar. Her head dipped down as she rubbed her temple, the voice beside her lulled her free from her thoughts for a brief moment. "Then we pour for ourselves." she explained simply. "Remind them who is in control here." her eyes glanced down to his leathers. "Cut or no cut."

where: sips happen who: open ( @bloodnglorystart )

The bar smelled like sweat, cheap beer, and bad decisions waiting to happen. The kind of place where every surface was sticky, the music was too loud, and the air carried just enough tension to promise that, sooner or later, someone was getting their teeth knocked in. León liked it here.

The Outlaws had their usual corner, a couple of patched members and prospects lingering, drinking, laughing too loud. He wasn’t with them, not right now. Instead, he was at the bar, idly rolling his whiskey glass between his fingers, letting the ice clink soft against the sides. His eyes flicked to the TV mounted in the corner, where some stiff-necked news anchor was droning on about the Manor of Hope Massacre, spinning theories, pointing fingers. León snorted. As if the Family would let the real story make it past their pockets. Didn’t matter. He wasn’t in the business of chasing ghosts. He was in the business of what came next.

Movement in his peripheral pulled his attention. Someone stepping up to the bar, either oblivious or bold enough to take the seat next to him.

“Hope you’re not expecting table service,” León drawled, tipping his glass toward the overworked bartender, who was already pouring drinks like their life depended on it. “They see the cut, and suddenly they forget how to pour. So sitting near me ain't gonna do you any favors.”

[israsakarya]

"Oh, ouch." Isra sulked dramatically. "You're certainly a sour puss tonight." she mocked with a frown. Understandably so, the man's world had just been turned upside down, but hadn't everyone else's too? That certainly didn't seem to stop her from rattling Nico's cage though, if anything it only spurred her on even more. Her dislike for the man had never been much of a secret, only the two of them knowing what lay underneath the surface. "Sounds like someone needs more than a strong drink." she observed nonchalantly, her own glass hanging limply between her thumb and index finger, swinging side to side slightly.

"My shitty attitude is an acquired taste." Isra scoffed lightly in amusement, her smirk peeking over the rim of her glass as she took a sip of her whiskey. "If you can't find comfort in being on your own then you have no place in this world, Nico." she explained simply, her gaze staring into the mirror at nothing in particular. "Do you have a place in this world?" she mused, daring a glance across at the man stood beside her, noticing the way his fingers tirelessly tore at the coaster, as if his mind was elsewhere entirely.

Nico hadn't noticed her to start with, especially not when (in his mind) bland had a tendency to linger in his background - though maybe he was just being bitchy, the aftermath of the gala and several interactions he had had were beginning to simply grate on him.

As Isra spoke he finally acknowledged her presence with a small glance, noting the smile on her lips first before turning his attention back towards the coaster he was currently ripping apart piece by piece.

"Don't threaten him with a good time, Isra, he's a sick fuck he'll enjoy it." he responded, tone steady with no real tells that he was actually joking. He didn't even look back towards her, his focus remaining in front of him, entirely unbothered by her apparent annoyance surfacing.

If she had a problem, she could move, right?

"You know whenever I see you you're alone, starting to think your shitty attitude is the cause of that." he mentions, he was being prick, granted and yet there was something about the way he could quite easily bounce off of her irritation and pave his own that was completely unpredictable.

[israsakarya]

At this point, Isra was fuelled by coffee, whiskey, and downright determination. It was of the Kurtlar's highest importance to figure out who was behind the events at the gala, but understanding how they were to do that... Now that was the hard part. Isra was surprised her frown lines hadn't set in permanently at this point.

She was desperate for another coffee though and so she dipped into a nearby café, knowing that she had enough time for at least a short break. Dilan, however, was a welcome sight for Isra, and she made a quick diversion to join her at her table.

Isra sat down with an exaggerated sigh, placing her Hermès Birkin bag on the table beside them - there was no way it would ever touch the floor. "What is the use in being gifted with this life if we can't indulge ourselves in the things we love most?" she explained simply, a teasing smile upon her lips.

"Not yet." Isra confessed, although she wasn't denying that she would be foolish enough to do such a thing. She was a simple woman, if she wanted something then she would get it. "Although I do have a proposition for you, if working with me privately is something you would be interested in." she presented, knowing that Dilan would find it difficult to say no as she too had the same passion for art.

who: @israsakarya where: a cafe around the block from the royal bidding house

Dilan had been flipping absentmindedly through her phone, debating whether she had enough energy left in her to head home and cook or if she’d just surrender to takeout, when the familiar chime of the café door pulled her attention.

Dilan smirked, setting her phone down as she sat up a little straighter, seeing her friend. “If you tell me you’ve found another piece that ‘speaks to you,’ I swear I’m staging an intervention,” she teased.

It was a familiar routine between them. Isra had been coming by the bidding house for years, always with a sharp eye for the unusual, the meaningful, the pieces with history buried beneath their paint strokes and carvings. Dilan had long since given up on understanding the full depth of her taste—what, exactly, dictated the difference between a piece she dismissed and one she absolutely had to have. It was a mystery, and one Isra never seemed particularly interested in explaining.

Dilan gestured toward the seat across from her. “So? What’s the damage this time? Did you finally find something worth bankrupting yourself over?”

[israsakarya]

"Hmm," Isra mused for a second, her gaze narrowly just slightly. "I think I'm the one you can't shake off." she corrected him teasingly. Cole was right though, the night they shared from their past was definitely unique in nature, and not something she was going to forget quickly. Her suspicions of the man had never truly left though, she had many how's and why's that had left her wondering. But, for the most part, she was alive and most days, that was enough. "Avoid you?" Isra tutted. "I've just learnt how to save myself." she quipped. "I could just hire you as my security," she mused with a teasing quirk in her brow. "At least then you could get paid for sticking around." Isra couldn't help but chuckle in amusement at his advice. "It is my choice in men in general that I find the most questionable." she commented in agreement, a smile in her words.

Cole leaned in slightly, his gaze sharp as he studied Isra. He couldn’t help the dry smile that tugged at his lips, even though he kept his tone cool and direct. “A toxic ex, huh?” he murmured, his voice laced with mild amusement. “I guess that makes sense. I did save your life, and now I’m stuck being the one you can’t shake off.�� He didn’t move, his stance still, but there was an edge of something sharper in his words. “Can’t say I blame you for trying to avoid me,” he continued, his eyes narrowing just slightly. “But you know I’m not someone you can just forget. Once I’m in the picture, I tend to stick around.” He let out a breath, his voice turning just a bit more pointed. “If that’s a habit of yours, though, maybe you should reconsider your choices in exes.”

[israsakarya]

WITH: @aslansoykan

LOCATION: Isra's office within The Crescent Club

Isra's office was only a short walk down the hall from Devran's, but she had insisted on this one in particular for the way the sun shone through the windows as it began to set. She was sat behind her desk, however her chair was facing the the large windows, her eyes staring intently at the view. To an outsider, she was simply enjoying the sunset, but Isra's mind was racing. Was The Hollow a new figure they needed to worry about, or were they someone they already knew just hiding in the shadows? And how long would it take for them to turn on someone else?

Her attention was suddenly pulled by a knock at her door, just the nature of it told her who was waiting to enter. "Come in." she called out, her eyes still fixated on the windows as Aslan entered. "What a shit show the gala was." He had been right to be suspicious - he was always right. "Remind me again to turn down any invitations from any future events. I don't particularly enjoy running in heels."

[israsakarya]

WITH: @nicobarone

LOCATION: Sip Happens

Isra was sometimes a simple woman, who wanted the simple things in life. Sometimes all she wanted was a strong drink in an unassuming bar, somewhere nobody knew or cared for who or what she was. Sip Happens fell directly into that category, and she made sure to tuck herself away at the quieter end of the bar, in a barstool that was closest to someone who could pour her a whiskey with no questions.

Her head was ducked low, her hair casting a dark curtain hiding her features as she stared down at her phone, going through her emails. Even off the clock Isra couldn't quite seem to switch off.

It was his voice she heard first that caused her to freeze mid scroll, sending quiet shivers along her spine that she mentally cursed at. Slowly, she glanced upwards to his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. He hadn't noticed who was sat right beside him yet... Good.

These fucking Barone's are haunting me, she thought to herself. And she was going to keep quiet, wait for him to leave unaware of her presence. But it was the way his dumb ass bodyguard was burning holes into the back of her head that caused her to snap.

"Tell your fucking subtle security to stop looking at me like I'm about to pull a gun out of my purse or I might actually do it." she finally turned to look at Nico, a tight smile on her lips.

[israsakarya]

WITH: @crownedbydestiny

LOCATION: The Crescent Club

After the events at the Gala, Isra knew it was best to continue on as normal. Scuttling around like a panicked cockroach would only cast more suspicion in their direction, and thanks to Devran and his lack of control, fingers were already beginning to point at the Kurtlar. This was where Isra stepped in, to regain balance and to appear as if everything was fine. But everything wasn't fine... Some of the biggest names in the game had just been wiped out in one sweep and no one had any idea where to lay accusations. But first, Isra had smaller fish to fry, something that had been bugging her from the moment she saw it.

And so she waited patiently in Devran's office. She knew his diary, knew that he would be returning soon and so she placed herself behind his desk, in his chair. She shuffled a few papers, clicked a few pens until she heard the door open.

"Where have you been?" Isra all but demanded. "And if I hear you say the name Mia Barone I swear I will cut off your balls and feed them to my dogs." her threat was only a light-hearted joke, however her expression remained cold and stoic.

[israsakarya]

There was no denying that Isra had ghosts from her past circling the gala, lingering behind over her shoulder as a constant yet silent reminder of the moments they once shared. She did her best to avoid them, not actively yet but subtly either. She made sure she was always engaged in conversation, or with a drink in her hand. Markers that she didn't want to be approached, unless she approached them first. Although Cole seemed to slip through her fingers, like smoke. His voice caused a silent shiver to creep along her spine, although she allowed her body to show no sign of it as she turned to look at him. "Surprised?" she teased lightly. Isra was no fool to think the second in command of the Kurtlar had no targets on her back... "No matter how hard they try, I keep on coming back." she couldn't help but smirk over the rim of her glass as she took a slip. "Although you're like a toxic ex, I just can't seem to be rid of you." she sighed with exaggeration.

Location: Manor of Hope Gala

Closed Starter: @israsakarya

Cole caught sight of Isra across the room and felt an uncomfortable tension coil in his chest. He had seen her a few times since that night—each encounter leaving him feeling more like a stranger than anything else. She was the one he’d saved, but somewhere in the time that passed, their brief connection had turned into this strange, unspoken thing between them. He hesitated for a moment, watching her interact with the crowd, before he finally forced himself to move. As he closed the distance between them, the words came out a little more clipped than he intended. "Isra." His gaze briefly flickered over her, trying to gauge her reaction, but it was hard to read her now. "You... still around, huh?" The awkwardness of the question settled between them like a weight. Cole couldn't tell if he was relieved to see her or if the encounter was just another reminder of how badly he'd never known what to do with this kind of thing.

[israsakarya]

With the nonchalant yet stern aura that Isra gave off, she was always surprised when she was approached. She was like a Rottweiler, a hidden scowl behind her eyes yet it was up to the suspecting victim to decide if they were bold enough to approach her. Isra turned to the voice swiftly complimenting her, her own eyes filled to the brim with curiosity. "I fear if I were part of the exhibit, there would be a lot of empty bank accounts by the end of the night." she mused in agreement. Clearly confidence had never been an issue for Isra. "A good conversation is the last thing you will remember of me, that I can assure you." she explained matter-of-factly, although there was no denying the smirk hidden within her gaze. "In an ideal world, I would have put myself up for the bid." she leaned her back against the bar, her elbows resting upon it by her side as she surveyed the room. "I would rob these fools of all their money and have absolutely no intention of returning it. I would spent every single dollar."

closed starter @israsakarya

location: manor of hope gala

Anya had always loved a good gala—not for the prestige or the art (though both were nice), but for the sheer magic of people-watching. And tonight? Oh, tonight was already promising. Between the glittering lights, the hum of polite conversation, and the champagne that flowed just freely enough to keep things interesting, she was in her element. But then she saw her—and suddenly, the entire room dimmed in comparison. With a slow, delighted smile, Anya picked up her champagne and wove through the crowd, her approach as effortless as the playful glint in her eye. “Alright, you have to tell me—did they put you here as part of the exhibition, or is it just unfair how good you look in that dress?” Her tone was light, teasing, laced with just enough mischief to be charming rather than bold. She took a sip of her drink, head tilting slightly as if she were genuinely considering it. “Honestly, I think you might be my new favorite piece in the room. But don’t worry, I won’t try to outbid anyone for you… unless, of course, you come with a guarantee of good conversation.” She grinned then, warm and inviting, the kind of expression that made it impossible to tell whether she was being completely serious or just having fun. Either way, she wasn’t leaving without at least one stolen laugh from the woman in front of her.

[israsakarya]

"You sour puss." she pouted teasingly, although her lips soon curled into a playful smile. Isra might jokingly tease him from time to time, but she understood his insistence on remaining vigilant, especially at such an event as this. Truthfully, she wouldn't have Aslan any other way. It was members such as themselves that had allowed the Kurtlar to expand into America, and it's success laid solely on their shoulders. "Şerefe**," she raised her glass to him, "just one drink." Isra reassured, before taking a slip of her champagne.

She turned her body to face him, although her head was turned aside as her gaze mirrored his and scanned around the room. "You know me, I love anything outrageously extravagant." the dresses, the jewels, the champagne... Luxury wasn't a privilege to Isra, it was merely a necessity. "Besides, I have to enjoy it enough for the two of us." she teased, flashing Aslan a playful wink. "Is there anyone I need to be watching?" the way she slipped into business mode was effortless, undetectable to a watchful eye.

There would be no question of Aslan's unwavering loyalty to Isra. For years, it was demonstrated in each step, each gaze, and words were inessential to convey that bond. Now, he'd found his familiar place next to the second in command. Though where her demeanor habitually read as nonchalant, Aslan was the opposite. Tightly wound up and processing every passerby.

It was that teasing tone that granted his head turning ever so slightly to allow his eyes to seek hers. "One drink. That's all." It seemed to become a habitual statement from him, that one Isra, of all people, knew far too well. For on enemy territory, outside of their own confines, Aslan was required to remain sharp and steady. Not through orders, but for his own solace. But in an event such as this, being too tightly coiled could also raise red flags. So his attention turned to the bartender with a slight wave of his hand to order his scotch before he'd returned to surveying the area. "You seem to be enjoying yourself tonight."

[israsakarya]

Unlike Devran, Isra wasn't fooled by the sickly sweet blonde fluttering her eyelashes and smiling politely. She was a Barone, the woman stood beside her had thick skin and thought far more tactfully than anyone would suspect. Perhaps all it took for men to become distracted was some sweet whispers and lustful glances, but Isra played the same game as Mia, danced the same dance.

"Several." Isra replied simply, with a tight smile. "Although I haven't decided what I'll be bidding on yet. I like to take my time." like an animal watching her prey, figuring out their weak points. "I don't just jump at the first thing that catches my eye." she looked at Mia, her words pointed. "Have you seen anything you like? Anything you want to take home with you? There's a lot of options, you know, for a woman such as yourself."

Mia may look like she was someone to underestimate. Her youth, her natural blonde hair, and her features that could be read as sweet and innocent all played a part in this. But Mia was smart, and those who knew her true power and her true force never underestimated her again - that was if they even lived to question again. Mia had made it her business to learn the names and faces of all higher ranking members of all the other gangs, and of course she knew who Isra Sakarya was. The woman was Devran's second in command and right hand.

She wasn't going to insult the other's intelligence by wondering if she knew who Mia was or not. Of course she would make it her business to know, just like Mia. But until she found out what the other was truly after, Mia would hold her cards close and play dumb. "I believe there are still some good packages and pieces up for auction tonight." Mia offered with a polite smile. "Anything catch your eye?"

[israsakarya]

Like moths to a flame, they all thought their human experience was so different to the next, but there was no denying that biology worked one in the same. "But by leaving yourself so exposed, are you not worried of falling into a Venus flytrap?" Isra challenged gently. "Or should I be the one to be worried?" she quipped almost playfully, her gaze trying find if anything within his own could reveal even the slightest detail.

"You're right, I'm not." she confessed as she shifted her weight so that she was facing Diego fully. "I was hoping you and I could share a drink together." she paused for a moment, allowing her offer to linger. "Let's see if all the things you have already learnt about me are true." Isra suggested with a gentle smirk, knowing that they had both already done their research on each other.

Direct and business-like, Diego could appreciate that. "You know, I've heard that the only reason people sit at a bar is to attract attention and be approached. That's certainly more likely to happen when you're alone." If he'd brought a date, would so many people have bothered to walk up to him? Would they have found the time to sneak up while he was unaccompanied?

"But I'm sure you're not worried about how my dance card is going." She seemed far too blunt to dance (pardon the pun) around what she really wanted and he raised an eyebrow as he waited, not seeing the need to give her an opening by asking what was going on - she'd either spit it out or she wouldn't, but Diego didn't see the need to interject himself in her business yet.

[israsakarya]

"Oh please, they're all so tightly wound with a stick up their ass that one of them has got to be tweaking like a ticking time bomb." she couldn't help but allow an amused smirk to pinch her cheeks as she spoke, her eyes following the movements of any Barone she could find - which wasn't difficult, there were far too many of them for Isra's liking. "Let's not forget their precious daddy is missing," the volume of her voice had lowered just enough for Devran to hear as she inched closer to him. "This is all just a façade." Isra waved her hand as she rolled her eyes as if she had already tired of their game of playing happy families. "What look?" she challenged as she turned to look at Devran with that exact look in her eyes. "I've been plotting my escape the moment we arrived." Isra confessed, although she knew the importance of attending events as large as this one greatly outweighed her own annoyance at other people who weren't her inner circle. "Although we both know I came alone, and I know this dress will look much better on someone else's floor, so until then... Let's raise the bet." she dared Devran, with a devilish look. "A diamond, at least."

Devran glanced over at Isra, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He took a quick sip of his own champagne, his eyes scanning the crowd with practiced ease. The gala was, as always, a game of positioning, and he had no intention of losing. Still, he couldn’t help but appreciate Isra's sharp, cynical take on the whole thing. He chuckled, the sound smooth and confident. "You think Barone will wear out first?" he repeated with a raised brow, amused by the challenge she proposed. "Bold guess. But I’m more inclined to bet on someone with a little more... endurance. Maybe one of those social climbers trying too hard to make an impression. They’re the ones that tire themselves out by pretending to be something they’re not." He gave her a side glance, admiring the way she effortlessly moved through the crowd, her attention never fully resting on anyone or anything. It was like she was always several steps ahead, never really invested. He knew her well enough to understand it wasn't boredom—just strategy. “I'll raise you,” he continued with a sly grin, his voice lowering slightly as he leaned in closer. “I'll bet you that you’ll be the first one to tire of this charade. You’ve got that look in your eyes. You’re already plotting your escape.” He tapped the rim of his glass with a smirk, completely confident that his observation was on point. "But, hey, if I’m wrong, I'll owe you a drink. It’s only fair, right?" His voice was light, teasing—but there was a subtle challenge in his words, a reminder that he wasn’t someone who backed down easily.