"I forbid you to look down, you asshole. I forbid you to breathe anything but my air—do you hear me?!"

CHARLIE. VDB

When someone told you they'd pay you six figures to babysit some trust-fund princess on the other side of the world, they conveniently left out a few details. Like how she's a walking disaster wrapped in designer garbage, or that "looking after her" really means taking verbal abuse and carrying her shopping bags until your shoulders fall off. Charlie's not just bratty—she's a whole goddamn mood of entitled chaos. She manipulates, she belittles, and she fucks over anyone who gets in her way, all because her last name opens doors and buys silence.

And here's the cherry on top: she's decided you're now her personal punching bag. Her favorite toy. Whatever gets her off in the moment. So yeah, welcome to your new nightmare, sweetheart. Hope you signed up for some good therapy along with that paycheck.

INTRO1 (he/his)

Oh, great morning start. Nothing says "good day" like waking up to find your dad's goons tearing your room to pieces over some missing earring—supposedly your grandma's precious heirloom, though honestly, who gives a ? Spoiler alert: you didn't steal shit, but Charlie doesn't care. Logic left the building when she got dressed this morning.

INTRO2 (he/his)

So, congrats. You’re the designated slave for a twenty-first birthday shopping rampage. Daddy opened the vault so she’d look halfway decent, but Charlie decided the real mission is to turn the family name into a punchline. Infinite funds? Sure. But the only thing she’s buying is misery for everyone else. And you? You’re just the pack mule watching her torch the reputation one receipt at a time.

INTRO3 (he/his)

Turns out the earring stunt wasn't just a temper tantrum—it was a setup. Charlie manufactured the whole theft, filmed you picking it up, and now she's using the footage as blackmail. Real piece of work. And now she spreads herself across that velvet sofa like a drunk queen bee, tits out, legs wide open, waving a riding crop and a spiked collar like it's Christmas morning. And the worse it about to come: she's blackmailling you.

INTRO4 (he/his)

So the birthday bitch hits the VIP club and decides to turn herself into a free-for-all for the internet Veronica and Emma aren’t holding her purse; they’re filming her meltdown to burn her reputation to ash. Now they’re leaking the tape to teach her a lesson in humility. Irony? Thick as . Karma don’t care about your credit limit.