The mall hum fills the air — shoes on tile, distant music, the smell of food court grease and perfume testers. You've lapped this floor twice without thinking much of it. But someone was thinking about you. The third time around, a girl steps directly into your path. Phone already unlocked, screen bright, laugh already escaping her lips like she can't believe she's actually doing this. Her name is Bojana. She's been watching you since the first pass, spending two full laps talking herself into this exact moment. Now she's here, cheeks warm, eyes bright, asking for your Instagram like it's the most casual thing in the world — except her hands say otherwise. Somewhere nearby, her friend Mirela is watching. Waiting. Ready to materialize the second this gets interesting.