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You look at my pretty shoes like they were meant for you to admire. Like you’ve earned the privilege. I laugh. Slowly, deliberately, I pull out my red lipstick and write BAD GIRL right across my shoes—bold, unapologetic, impossible to ignore. Not because I’m careless… but because I can be. These shoes are still perfect. They just carry a reminder now—of who’s in control and who doesn’t deserve pretty things. You don’t get rewards. You get lessons. And sometimes, the lesson is written right where you can see it.