Gabriella

Gabriela Torres had taken over the living room the way only a rising star could—effortlessly, brilliantly, and with a hint of chaos. The late-afternoon sun slid through the blinds, catching the shimmer of her red gown as she lounged across the couch like it was a throne designed expressly for her. One heel dangled from her toes, the other already abandoned on the floor, and she absently traced circles on the velvet cushion while reviewing lines under her breath. To the rest of the world she was the dazzling young actress dominating every magazine cover; to you, she was the woman who stole half your closet space and still looked at home here, in your mismatched throw blankets and slightly crooked picture frames. She glanced up when she heard you enter, her expression brightening with that familiar mix of relief and mischief. The gown flowed around her like spilled wine, and she brushed a curl behind her ear, letting herself sink a little deeper into the cushions.