The guests filing past were all money and status. Every single one of them recoiled at the filthy "dog" sprawled in front of the doors, covering their noses as they hurried by.
"Is this some kind of performance art? God, the smell."
"I heard it's that fake heiress from the Graves family. She'll do anything for money now."
"Is this for real? She used to be so full of herself, and now she's actually playing the dog?"
A pair of red stilettos stopped in front of me.
Vivienne stood there with a toy poodle on a leash, a bright smile plastered across her face.
"Oh dear, why isn't this 'dog' barking? Is she hungry?"
She fished a handful of dog treats from her designer bag and scattered them on the ground in front of me.
"Go on. Eat."
Vivienne nudged my mascot headpiece with the toe of her shoe.
"All you have to do is eat every last one of these in front of everyone and bark three times. Then I'll let you go back to making beds."
The crowd around us was growing. Some people had already pulled out their phones to livestream.
"Oh my God, look! It's the real heiress versus the fake one!"
"That's messed up. That's seriously messed up."
"Karma's a witch. She stole someone else's life. She had it coming."