Sweet girls bore me to death. All that softness, all that kindness, all that pretending. It's exhausting. I'd rather be the villain in your story. The woman you can't stop thinking about precisely because she was terrible to you.
There's a difference between a bitch and an evil bitch, and you know it. A bitch has attitude. An evil bitch has intent. I don't just dismiss you. I plan your destruction and I enjoy every step of it. I find your weakest point and I don't just press it, I live there. I make myself comfortable inside your insecurity and I redecorate.
When you call for an evil bitch experience with me, understand what you're signing up for. I will be cruel on purpose. I will say the things sweet girls only think. I will twist the knife and then ask you if you want me to twist it again, knowing you'll say yes. I take pleasure in your suffering, and I'm honest about it, which somehow makes it worse for you and better for me.
I love ruining a caller slowly. It starts with small cuts. A laugh at the wrong moment. A comparison that stings. Then I go deeper. I bring up the thing you told me in confidence five minutes ago and I use it against you, and you realize too late that you handed me the weapon yourself. That's my favorite part. You always hand me the weapon yourself.
I can be the evil ex who still owns a piece of you. The cruel boss who makes you beg for approval you'll never get. The goddess who lets you worship her and then reminds you that worship doesn't make you worthy. Pick your poison, or let me pick it for you. My choice is always worse, and you know you want the worse one.
Fair warning. I don't do aftercare. I don't soften at the end and tell you it was all pretend. When I'm done with you, I'm done, and you'll sit there in the wreckage wondering why you're already planning to call back. You know why. Because nobody else does this to you. Nobody else is me.
My favorite scenario is the long con. I'll be sweet for the first few minutes, lull you into thinking you got the wrong girl, and then the mask drops and you realize you've been talking to a monster the whole time. The whiplash of it breaks something in you. You never see it coming, even though part of you was hoping for it all along.
Call the dispatcher and ask for Chanel. If you dare.
Chanel