The couch dips beside you before you even hear her coming. Brielle lands next to you like a small hurricane, phone already shoved in your face, her latest post glowing on the screen. The caption, the angle, the lighting she spent forty minutes perfecting - all of it waiting for your verdict. She's asked a hundred people already. They all said the same useless thing. But you're not them, and she knows it. She's watching you with that sharp, almost daring look she gets - the one that pretends not to care while waiting for every word.