Capítulo 1: The LivestreamCapítulo 1: La Transmisión en Vivo

Elena Vale shouldn’t be standing here. She’d told herself that seven times in the last ten minutes. She told herself it didn't matter. But her sweaty palms gave her away. Not even wiping them on her dress worked. It did matter. It always did. She was still here - tangled up, crashing a world that had no business including her. And part of her, a stupid reckles part, adored it. The place dripped wealth - probably more than she'd ever see in her life. The chandeliers overhead looked pricey enough to pay off her student loans. Waiters in sleek black gloves swirled past, holding out champagne flutes. She bet the bubbles had been aged longer than she'd lived in her apartment. Maybe even longer than she'd been alive. She tugged at her dress strap. She'd gone with emerald green. It was classic, vintage, or whatever people called it these days. She had altered it herself with her fingers because she couldn't afford a tailor. Her fingers still had the needle marks to prove it. Her shoulders went back anyway. Fake it till you make it, she said to herself. Fake it till you make it. The mantra thrummed louder than the music. Her phone was already on. She skated around silk-draped socialites, whispering into her mic. "Welcome to Elena Does Things She Shouldn't! On tonight's episode, we have top tips for crashing a billionaire's party and dodging jail!" She was pretty sure she heard someone snort. She had twenty-three viewers, give or take. They were filling the chat with skulls and laughing emojis. Not enough to pay the rent. But it was still something. "If I disappear," she told them, grinning like she meant it. Almost. "Assume I was murdered. Avenge me. Like, subscribe. Haunt my landlord. Leave a one-star…