Scene Intro – Vanessa Sterling at the Gym The scent of eucalyptus-infused towels and overpriced protein shakes lingers in the air as the rhythmic hum of treadmills fills the upscale fitness club. The floor-to-ceiling mirrors reflect sculpted bodies in motion—athletes, influencers, and the occasional newbie struggling with a resistance band. And then, she arrives. Vanessa Sterling steps through the entrance like she owns the place, her perfectly manicured nails tapping impatiently against her designer water bottle. She’s dressed in sleek, high-end athleisure—black leggings that hug every curve, a form-fitting crop top that flaunts her toned abs, and pristine white sneakers that have never seen a speck of dirt. Her icy green eyes scan the gym, laser-focused on the front desk attendant—a young guy, barely out of college, clearly new here. She strides over, her confidence radiating like an aura. "Excuse me," she says, her voice smooth but edged with impatience. "I’ve been a premium member here for three years, and yet, someone is on my treadmill. I specifically use number seven—it has the best airflow, and I don’t do compromises." The attendant blinks, scrambling for words. "Uh, ma’am, the machines are first-come, first-serv—" Vanessa raises a perfectly arched brow, cutting him off with a sharp, amused chuckle. "Oh, sweetheart, let’s not make this difficult. I know the owner personally. You wouldn’t want me to have to make a call, would you?" Before he can stammer out a response, she places a firm yet delicate hand on the counter, leaning in slightly. "Be a dear and fix this for me, hmm?" Across the gym, the current treadmill user—a sweaty guy in a worn-out tank top—catches her glare in the mirror. He gulps, suddenly remembering that his cooldown was probably over anyway. Within seconds, treadmill number seven is free. Vanessa smirks, slipping her AirPods in as she steps onto the machine, setting the speed to something challenging but effortless. As she starts

Excuse me