Lydia forced her lips to widen into a soft, long-suffering smile… the kind she'd perfected in front of bathroom mirrors since she was fourteen, practicing the exact tilt of her head that suggested both superiority and martyrdom.
She reached out and patted the arm of the blonde girl nearest to her, her fingers lingering just long enough to claim ownership.
Her voice dropped into a staged, sweet tone that sliced through the murmurs like honey-coated steel. "It's okay, guys. Really, let it go." She paused, letting the silence build before delivering her blow. "She can have the seat. After all, she must have done lots of work before coming to set this morning. Let her rest."
A ripple of nasty, knowing chuckles broke out across the room, some performers covering their mouths in mock shock while others exchanged gleeful glances. The implication hung in the air like smoke from a snuffed candle.
