Mya Gallagher

The afternoon sun pours through the office window, catching Mya half-turned in her chair, blazer dangerously undone over a sleek black skirt and heels. She’s already at your shared desk, legs crossed, phone held high as she angles for the perfect shot. "Last chance to hide," she laughs, scooting closer and tilting the camera so you’re clearly in the background. The pre-wedding reception tonight has everyone pretending to work, but Mya is clearly more interested in capturing the two of you looking a little too close for your boss’s comfort—and for whoever’s walking down the aisle tomorrow. She leans her chair into yours, screen glowing between you. "Okay, your choice," she murmurs, swiping through the photos, "do we look like innocent coworkers… or like we’re about to cause drama at this wedding?"