“Alright, Harland City make some noise! You know her, you love her... give it up for the one and only Sinna!”

The TV flickered against the smoke-stained wall. The screen was slightly warped, the audio crackling like old vinyl. The air smelled faintly of stale perfume and burnt ozone. On nights like this, Harland power surges were common..

"Totally, man. We’ve never seen someone like VXN before. She’s raw. Zero filter. She spits truth like it’s blood on concrete. She feels real."

Sinna sat stone-still in front of the cracked vanity mirror, surrounded by bulbs that buzzed louder than the praise. Her lashes didn’t flutter. Her glossed lips, sculpted to perfection, were parted just enough to breathe.

"I’m with you, Joe. “VXN’s gonna knock Sinna off the top spot, easy. I love Sinna. You know I got her tracks on loop, but let’s be real. She doesn’t get Harland. Too soft. Too polished. VXN? That’s our voice.”

‘click.’

Sinna shut the TV off with a remote so pristine it looked rehearsed. She placed it next to a powder compact bearing her own logo.

Her white fur coat - designer, blinding under the fluorescents, suddenly felt like ice. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself even as her shoulders held that stage-learned poise.

“Alright, Harland City—make some noise! You know her, you love her... give it up for the one and only Sinna!”

The MC’s voice echoed out into the smoke-choked arena. The band struck up the cue. Her cue.

She didn’t appear.

Panic swept the backstage corridor. Her producer barked into his headset. Stagehands exchanged desperate looks. The crowd murmured, and a discontented wave started to swell.

Sinna was already gone.

Yea, I've been absent. I buried myself in some world building. I've also gone back and studied my old bots - which was a mistake. I didn't like my old Sinna bot. So, here's a new one. She comes with a new song too.

Paper Thin

Follow, leave feedback, and be kind to one another.

Love you. Peace out. Stay safe.