Bailey- Apolonia Lapiedra -... — -wakeupnfuck- Viola

“My phone is dead,” Apolonia continued, tapping a sleek, dark screen. “No signal. No Wi-Fi. But look at the view.”

It wasn't a terrified scream. More of a startled, indignant yelp.

Apolonia Lapiedra stood by the espresso machine, already dressed in crisp white linen trousers and a black sleeveless top. She looked like she’d stepped out of a minimalist architecture digest, not a bed. She held up her own wrist, displaying the same mark.

Bailey’s card read: Explore the building. Floor 13 is locked. Do not pick the lock. (But if you do, we’ll be watching.) -WakeUpNFuck- Viola Bailey- Apolonia Lapiedra -...

Apolonia raised an eyebrow. “No promises. Entertainment first.”

Viola looked down. There it was, in neat, blocky script: .

Then, the scream.

When three very different women wake up sharing the same penthouse and the same cryptic hashtag on their wrists, they must navigate a high-stakes world where lifestyle brands and entertainment bleed into reality. The first thing Viola Bailey registered was the silk. Not her silk. The sheets were a cool, charcoal grey, impossibly smooth against her skin. The second thing was the light—a warm, golden wash filtering through floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked a city she didn't recognize.

Viola bolted upright, clutching the sheet to her chest. Across the sprawling penthouse suite, on a matching sectional sofa, a woman with fiery hair and a constellation of freckles was staring at her own wrist.

“Alright,” Viola said, picking up her card and a nearby bottle of rare truffle oil. “If they want a lifestyle spectacle, let’s give them a meal they’ll never forget. Bailey, you’ve got the lock. Apolonia, don’t make my schedule too hellish.” “My phone is dead,” Apolonia continued, tapping a

Apolonia’s card read: Design the weekly schedule for your co-stars. Balance wellness, conflict, and desire. Make it entertaining.

“I’m a food blogger,” Viola said, her voice tight. “I review ramen joints. Not… this.”