Layla's perfectly manicured fingers clenched into fists at her sides as she watched Camila Martinez stride into the competition hall, the very embodiment of grace under pressure. The thrumming in Layla's veins was a mix of raw jealousy and icy resolve. There was no denying Camila's allure - the way she carried herself spoke volumes of her quiet power, and Layla despised her for it.

　　"Can you believe her nerve?" Layla hissed to no one in particular, her sharp blue eyes ...