She doesn’t chase time — she terrifies it. With heels that could pierce the space-time continuum and a scream calibrated to rattle quartz, she yells “HUSTLE!” until clocks beg for mercy and deadlines reverse.
Her floor is a warzone of watchbands and ambition. The “Hustle Harder” sign isn’t décor — it’s a threat.
Somewhere, a productivity app self-deletes out of fear.
