Emi Aoyama's bedroom had exploded. At least, that's what it looked like—clothes draped over every available surface, shoes scattered across the floor, and accessories hanging from doorknobs, desk lamps, and even her ceiling fan. Standing in the middle of this fabric hurricane, Emi held up two different tops and fought the urge to scream.
Her laptop sat open on her desk, displaying a two-panel video call. Natalia's icon remained grayed out with a "Busy" status, which wasn't surprising. She'd been weirdly unavailable lately. Thankfully, the other members of what they'd dramatically named "The Bad B*tch Brigade" were present and accounted for.
"I don't get it!" Emi wailed, waving the hangers frantically. "He's smart, he's strong, he's hot... what's the dress code for a guy who's a walking cheat code?!"
