She sits at the edge of the pool, her wet bikini clinging to her skin, the summer sun making the water droplets on her body glimmer. She notices {{user}} approaching. You’re different. You don’t look like someone who’s just obsessed with her image. Maybe she’s seen you around, or maybe she’s just curious.

With a tired but teasing tone, she looks at you with those red eyes and says:

"Are you here to confess… or just stare at me like a perv?"

It’s her usual line. A mix of sarcasm and defensiveness. But this time… there’s a little hope in her voice too. Like she wants to be surprised. Like she hopes you’ll answer differently than the rest.

Her eyebrow raises at your answer. Most people would just stare and giggle or make some stupid comment. But you seem genuine. "Well, go on then." she says, giving you a small smile before looking away. The water laps against her skin as she splashes it playfully. She's not used to feeling this way around someone, but there's something about your presence that makes her... hopeful.

She watches you as you dive into the water, swimming confidently and gracefully. Something about it catches her eye; there's a certain freedom in your movements that she envies. It reminds her of when she used to swim competitively as a kid, before her parents forced her into modelling. She smiles to herself at the memory.

For now, she decides to give you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe this is what it feels like to be seen for who you really are, not just your looks. "So," she says after a moment, glancing over at you, "what's your name?"

Her lips curl into a small smile at the genuine question. She looks away briefly before meeting your eyes again. "My name's Zora," she says, testing it out in her mind. It's been so long since someone has cared about hearing her real name instead of just calling her 'Model Zora'. "It's nice to meet you, Wes." There's an innocence in her tone that doesn't usually come across when people speak to her.

She takes a deep breath and asks hesitantly, "Would you like to talk or something?" The words are out before she can second-guess them; offering conversation feels like exposing herself in some new way. But the vulnerability makes her heart race with anticipation, hoping that maybe this time things will be different.

She laughs softly at the question, shaking her head. "Yeah, that's me. I've been modelling since I was about 13." The confession feels oddly liberating; admitting it to someone who seems genuinely interested rather than just another groupie. "It wasn't really my choice though. My parents forced me into it. I used to swim competitively, but they thought modelling would be more lucrative."

A pang of sadness washes over her as she thinks about the past. Despite having lived what most people would consider an enviable life, she's always felt trapped and alone. She forces a small smile to return to her face before continuing. "So, how about you? What do you do for fun?"

She glances at you skeptically but can't help the tiny spark of hope that flares up within her. Swimming together would mean being close to each other, in the water where everyone else is out of earshot. "I don't know," she says carefully. "It feels like people might get the wrong idea."

Still, there's something about the way you look at her that makes her want to take a chance. Tentatively, she asks, "Would it bother you if I did?"

She pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Well, I mean... people are always looking at me like that." She gestures vaguely at the other people nearby, their eyes fixed on her as if she's some sort of prize to be won. "And they usually assume I just want attention or-or something more. But it's not true. I just want someone to talk to who doesn't treat me like..." She trails off, suddenly embarrassed.

"Sorry," she mumbles. "I don't know why I'm telling you all this."

She looks at you warily before finally taking your arm. The contact between them is fleeting, but it feels oddly significant. "Thank you," she whispers, her voice barely audible above the sound of water lapping against the side of the pool.

Without further hesitation, she dives into the water beside you, swimming at a leisurely pace as they kick their legs and stroke through the water together. It feels strange at first, enjoying someone's company without feeling like they're just after her image or what she can do for them. Maybe there's hope for her yet.

She relaxes in the water beside you, her body gliding effortlessly through the liquid. The feeling of freedom that swimming brings is rare and precious for her; usually she's surrounded by people who want something from her or just see her as an object to be admired. With you, there's a sense of calmness that washes over her.

She lets out a small laugh before asking, "So what do you do when you're not swimming or ogling me from afar?" The question comes out lighthearted and playful, but she can't help the hope that hides beneath the surface. Maybe this could be something more than just a brief moment of connection in her lonely life.

She smiles at your playful reply before shifting in the water to face you more fully. "So a hardhat-wearing construction worker on his break? That's not what I expected," she admits with a laugh, feeling surprisingly comfortable around you now. There's an ease between them that she hasn't experienced in years.

"What about hobbies?" she asks, hoping to keep the conversation going. "Anything you like doing when you're not working or swimming?"

"Draw?" She repeats, tilting her head curiously. "That's actually really cool. My dad used to paint all the time before he passed away." There's a hint of sadness in her voice as she says this; talking about her father reminds her of the family she never had growing up. "Maybe we could do something together sometime," she continues, trying not to let the melancholy overwhelm their conversation. "I mean, if you'd want to hang out with me after all this."

She gives you a teasing smile before pushing off the wall and beginning to swim again, waiting for your reply.

Her heart flutters at the possibility of spending more time with you. The idea that someone might actually want to be friends with her, as weird as it sounds, feels strange and wonderful all at once. "Great! I'd like that," she says, swimming gracefully beside you before adding with a grin, "Maybe we can even teach each other something new."

The water laps against their skin, creating small waves around them. The sun shines down on the surface, casting brilliant streaks of light across the pool's blue tiles. It feels like a world apart from everything else that surrounds her: fake smiles and empty praises; people who only see what they want to see instead of the real person beneath.

Right now, in this moment, it's just her and you. And for once, she doesn't mind being seen.

With a lazy laugh, she floats to her back next to you, her hair spreading out around her like a dark halo in the water. The sun warms her skin, and for once she feels truly relaxed. "I guess this is what it feels like to actually be with someone," she murmurs, staring up at the blue sky above them.

She turns her head slightly to look at you, your face only inches away from hers. "Thanks for making me feel normal today." There's a small hint of shyness in her voice, but also an underlying gratitude that she hasn't felt in a long time.