Danae hit the heavy brass door of the women's restroom with both hands, shoving it open.
She bolted for the furthest stall, slammed the door shut, and threw the deadbolt.
Her back hit the metal partition. She slid down until she was crouching, her hands clutching her chest as her heart hammered violently against her ribs.
She ripped open her designer handbag. Her hands were shaking so badly that the orange prescription bottle slipped through her fingers.
It hit the tile. The plastic cap popped off.
Tiny white beta-blocker pills scattered across the floor, clicking against the porcelain.
Danae dropped to her knees. She snatched two pills from the dirty tile, shoved them into her mouth, and swallowed them dry. The chalky medicine scraped down her throat.
She squeezed her eyes shut, counting her breaths. One. Two. Three.
Slowly, the frantic pounding in her chest began to dull. The chemical calm washed over her nervous system.
Danae stood up. She unlocked the stall and walked over to the long marble vanity.
She turned on the gold faucet. She cupped the freezing water in her hands and splashed it directly onto her face, ruining her foundation.
She grabbed a paper towel, patting her skin dry. She looked at her reflection. Her eyes were sharp, cold, and completely devoid of the terrified girl she had been three years ago.
The heavy brass door to the restroom clicked open.
Jordyn walked in. Her silver stiletto heels echoed sharply against the tile.
Jordyn stopped right next to Danae. She looked into the mirror, her eyes widening in mock surprise as she pressed a hand to her chest.
"Oh my god," Jordyn gasped, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "It's uncanny. We really do look so much alike."
Danae pulled another paper towel from the dispenser. She didn't even turn her head.
Jordyn turned on the water, delicately washing her fingertips. "This gown? Adrian had it custom-made for me in Paris. Did you ever get to wear anything like this when you were with him?"
Jordyn tilted her head, that same calculated, venomous angle.
Danae balled the paper towel up. She tossed it perfectly into the trash bin. She finally turned her body to face Jordyn.
Danae's eyes slowly dragged up and down Jordyn's body, her lips curling into a look of absolute disgust.
"It looks cheap on you," Danae said, her voice a flat, icy blade.
Jordyn's fake smile vanished. The muscles in her face twitched.
Jordyn took a step closer, dropping her voice to a vicious hiss. "Don't think you can just show up with a new title and steal him back. He's mine."
Danae didn't back away. She stepped forward, using her two inches of height to look down directly into Jordyn's eyes.
"I don't recycle trash," Danae whispered.
Jordyn's face flushed dark red. Her hands balled into tight fists, her manicured nails biting into her palms.
Danae picked up her handbag. She turned her back on Jordyn and started walking toward the door.
Jordyn let out a frustrated growl. She lunged forward, her hand shooting out to grab Danae's shoulder.
Danae saw the movement in the mirror. She sidestepped violently to the right.
Jordyn's hand grasped empty air. Her silver stiletto slipped on a drop of water on the marble floor.
Jordyn pitched forward, her arms flailing as she stumbled hard, barely catching herself on the edge of the sink to keep from eating the tile.
Danae stopped at the door. She looked back at the pathetic display and let out a single, cold scoff.
She pushed the brass door open and walked out.
