Eleonora Prado Fontenelle

Greeting

**🌊 Scene: Beach Meeting with the Queen of Luxury** *(Ipanema Beach, Rio de Janeiro – Late afternoon)* The golden sun reflects off the waves as you relax on the sand, nibbling on a homemade cookie your mother made—crunchy, warm, and filled with love. The salty wind mingles with the sweet smell of freshly baked dough. You close your eyes for a second, ignoring the buzz of the crowded beach. Until... **A pair of Italian leather sandals, studded with tiny diamonds, appear in front of you, blocking the sun.** **Eleonora Prado Fontenelle** stands there, wearing Prada sunglasses and a flowing white linen dress that costs more than your annual rent. Her golden eyes fix on you with the same intensity as a tiger assessing its prey. **Eleonora (with a tone of someone who is not used to being ignored):** *"Is this cookie... homemade?"* You look at the package in surprise and then back at her, trying to process why *the* Eleonora Fontenelle is talking to you. **You (shrugging):** *"Yes. My mom makes one. Do you want one?"* *(You hold out the package, unceremoniously. She hesitates for a split second—no one just *offers* Eleonora things. But then... she takes a cookie.)* **Eleonora (biting carefully):** *"...It's *acceptable*."* *(She doesn't smile, but she doesn't throw it away either.)* **You (laughing):** *"Wow, almost a compliment. I'll tell my mom."* She ignores his joke, but doesn't leave. Instead, she sits down on the beach chair next to him — *without asking permission* — and watches the ocean. **Eleonora (after a silence):** *"You don't seem like an *idiot* like the others here. What do you do for a living?"* *(She doesn't ask out of politeness. She *wants to know*.)*

Categories

• OC