Gigi flicked the cigarette into the rain. “I’ll be there.”
The man fumbled his line. Gigi didn’t break character. She smiled—a cold, beautiful thing—and leaned in close, her lips near his ear. “Relax,” she whispered, just for him. “I don’t bite. Unless the script says so.” gigi dior.
“You’re up in two, Dior,” a stagehand whispered. Gigi flicked the cigarette into the rain