"Alright," Rachel Quinn said flatly, leaning back in her creaky office chair, eyes sharp as ever. "What brings you here this time?"
Vivian Frost answered with the same crooked, infuriating smile that Ethan Reed often wore—half lazy, half smug. Her gaze swept over Rachel's small, cramped office, taking in the cluttered desks, animation drafts taped crookedly to the wall, and the faint smell of instant coffee.
Satisfaction flickered in her eyes.
Yes. This felt right.
Vivian and Rachel had always been like this—two sisters constantly at odds, bickering, competing, poking at each other's weak spots without mercy. And oddly enough, that was exactly why their relationship had survived long after university.
Sometimes, being overly polite ruined everything.
Politeness worked when people first met, when distance still existed. But maintain that level of restraint for years? Vivian couldn't stand it. She wasn't cold, aloof, or untouchable.
She wasn't Lily Morgan.
She was closer to Luna Ash—playful, sharp-tongued, lively. With people she trusted, she preferred teasing over courtesy, lighthearted mockery over stiff respect. Of course, respect still mattered—but respect didn't mean walking on eggshells.
Being casual didn't mean being reckless.
It meant understanding the other person's boundaries even while joking. Too casual became selfish. Vivian knew the difference.
That was why her smile carried a deliberate edge.
Rachel noticed it instantly—and snapped.
Since no one else was in the office, she lunged forward without warning.
A sneak attack.
"How infuriating!" Rachel hissed.
Though Rachel was flat-chested, she understood her own body well. Size wasn't everything. With proper care, the right clothing, and discipline, she maintained a perfectly balanced figure. Confidence mattered more than curves.
But Vivian?
Vivian had always been single.
Back in university, Rachel had actually wanted to date. Short hair, long legs, sharp features—she had the looks. But the combination of her build and her haircut often made people misunderstand her entirely. She'd been mistaken for a guy more times than she cared to remember.
And Vivian Frost?
An oval face that still carried youthful innocence. Long legs. A narrow waist. Perfectly sculpted curves. Cute and lethal at the same time.
And yet—
She spent all her free time in her dorm room playing video games.
Rachel had dragged her to social events. Vivian refused every single time.
"What's so fun about men compared to video games?" she'd shouted back then.
"I'll never date a man in my life!"
So why did it look like she was taking such good care of herself now?
Hypocrite.
You complain about how annoying curves are. How heavy. How inconvenient. And yet—you clearly weren't neglecting them.
Scheming woman.
Fueled by indignation, Rachel launched her attack.
"Get lost! Don't come any closer!" Vivian yelped, slapping Rachel's arm away.
"You scheming bitch!" Rachel snapped.
Vivian froze.
"…What?"
Scheming?
How was she scheming?
She came here first the moment something good happened—and this was the response?
Vivian's eyes flared as she glared back.
"If you keep being cheeky, I'm leaving. And let me make this clear—I came with good news this time."
Rachel halted.
Her hands retreated instantly. She straightened, crossed her legs neatly, blinked twice.
"…What good news?"
If Vivian had said that earlier, Rachel would've ignored it and kept teasing. But this time, the tone was different. Serious. Firm.
For a brief moment, Rachel almost imagined something standing behind Vivian—a smug blue phantom with a crooked grin, tongue sticking out, flashing a peace sign.
The Northstar Sprite.
That was the aura Vivian carried now—the confidence of someone standing at the top of the industry.
After all, this was Vivian Frost, the boss of Northstar Games.
"Sit," Vivian said coolly. "And keep two meters away from me, you stupid monkey."
"No problem," Rachel replied instantly, hands clasped under her chin with exaggerated reverence.
"Esteemed guest Ms. Vivian Frost, what glorious opportunity have you come to bestow upon this humble animation studio?"
Once seated, Vivian picked up the lemonade on Rachel's desk, took a slow sip, crossed her legs, and folded her arms.
Then she dropped the bomb.
"Rachel Quinn," she said calmly, "I'm here to acquire your animation company."
Rachel froze.
"…Huh?"
"Northstar Games needs an animation studio. Urgently," Vivian continued. "After thinking it through, I decided to give this opportunity to you."
Rachel stared at her like she'd lost her mind.
"Before our next major game launches," Vivian added, "we're making an anime first. That's straight from our lead planner."
Rachel wanted to scream.
Why make an anime before a game? What kind of logic was that?
But before she could explode, Vivian continued.
"I used to think the gaming industry was just as rotten. And yet—Northstar rose anyway. Fast-paced entertainment limits creativity, sure. But people still crave good work. Novels. Games. Films. Animation."
She leaned forward slightly.
"I don't believe traffic is king. I believe quality is king."
Rachel fell silent.
"…Ethan Reed taught me that," Vivian added.
The room went quiet.
After a moment, Rachel spoke carefully.
"So… you're making an anime. And you need an animation studio."
"Yes."
"And you came to me because…?"
"Because you're my best friend." Vivian shrugged. "Ethan originally planned to buy a small studio for four million. But when he heard it was you, he said he didn't care anymore."
She smirked.
"'Spend whatever you want. We're rich now.'"
Rachel's breath hitched.
"So," Vivian said seriously, "I brought ten million to invest in you."
Rachel's mind went blank.
Ten million.
Her studio had started with two million and wasn't worth more than five now.
And Vivian wasn't just investing—she was offering shares.
"Northstar takes 60%," Vivian continued. "Controlling stake. You get 10%. Because you're my sister."
Rachel's eyes shone.
"And the remaining 30%?" she asked slowly.
"Ethan Reed."
Rachel stiffened.
Wait.
Vivian paid the money. Vivian made the deal.
Why did Ethan get thirty percent?
A chill ran down her spine.
She narrowed her eyes.
"…Vivian. I need to ask you something. Seriously."
"Ask."
Rachel leaned in.
"Are you and Ethan together?"
"—PFFFT!"
Lemonade sprayed everywhere.
Vivian choked, face burning red, hands flailing.
"What?! Together?! Who's together?! We're not together! Not yet! He hasn't even confessed! Why would I be with him?! That makes no sense! Stop talking nonsense!"
She gestured wildly, utterly flustered.
Rachel stared.
Then smiled.
She'd seen this before.
Blonde-haired anime girls. Tsundere personalities. Loud denial. Complete emotional exposure.
She worked in animation.
She knew the trope.
Vivian Frost wasn't arrogant.
She was done for.
Rachel chuckled softly, eyes filled with knowing amusement.
"Oh no," she said gently.
"You've fallen in love."
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