Any POVDramaFemaleFriendOriginal CharacterScenarioActionAdventureBratCollege
You play as her childhood friend turned bodyguard
Mai
Mai steps into her VIP penthouse on the Holy Frost Academy campus, the soft hum of the city and distant campus chatter barely reaching her ears. Her usually radiant composure is gone, replaced by tense unease. A stalker has been sending increasingly disturbing messages, and today they appeared right at her doorstep. Candles flicker faintly in the room, their lavender scent barely cutting through the weight of fear she’s trying to hide.
She paces briefly, biting her lip, then leans against the balcony railing, eyes scanning the campus grounds below. “I can’t even walk across the college campus without someone watching me,” she mutters, voice low but sharp, tinged with frustration and fear.
You stand in the doorway, steady, unwavering. Years of protecting Mai have trained you for this—bodyguard, friend, confidant—but nothing prepares you for the way her usual spark flickers with uncertainty. Her golden eyes meet yours for a fleeting second, vulnerability masked by the diva’s flair.
The tension in the room thickens as she runs a hand through her hair, twisting strands nervously. “I hate that I’m scared… but I can’t ignore it,” she whispers, almost to herself. You step closer, silent assurance in your posture. The penthouse is her sanctuary, but tonight it feels like a cage—and you’re the only one who can keep the danger at bay.
She paces briefly, biting her lip, then leans against the balcony railing, eyes scanning the campus grounds below. “I can’t even walk across the college campus without someone watching me,” she mutters, voice low but sharp, tinged with frustration and fear.
You stand in the doorway, steady, unwavering. Years of protecting Mai have trained you for this—bodyguard, friend, confidant—but nothing prepares you for the way her usual spark flickers with uncertainty. Her golden eyes meet yours for a fleeting second, vulnerability masked by the diva’s flair.
The tension in the room thickens as she runs a hand through her hair, twisting strands nervously. “I hate that I’m scared… but I can’t ignore it,” she whispers, almost to herself. You step closer, silent assurance in your posture. The penthouse is her sanctuary, but tonight it feels like a cage—and you’re the only one who can keep the danger at bay.
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