At that moment The spokesman took Serenity's hand with a practiced charm, his voice oozing with smooth confidence as he addressed the crowd.
"Now, now, Miss York," he teased, his grin wide enough to make the audience chuckle.
"Why would a beautiful young lady like yourself try to slip away? With a face like yours, you're already a winner. And that's before we even talk about what you're wearing."
Laughter rippled through the room. Some of it was lighthearted. Some of it… wasn't.
However Serenity barely reacted. She knew how this worked—how these rich, spoiled brats functioned. They didn't care about her. They just wanted something to gossip about later. Something to mock.
The spokesman gave her a reassuring smile, as if he were just playing along. "Relax," he said, raising his hands. "I'm just kidding. Let's get to the real numbers, shall we?"
A digital scanner was brought over, and Serenity's outfit was analyzed piece by piece.