On the plane, a delicately made-up girl sitting next to me.

Before takeoff, she pushed her LV vintage bag in front of me and said, "Please put this on the overhead."
I asked, "Can't you put it up yourself?"
She looked at me, and that sense of entitlement came through: "I got my nails done, it's not very convenient."
I said, "Oh, then that's indeed inconvenient."
Then I helped her put the bag up.
She didn't even say thank you, took out her headphones, and started watching a show.
The flight attendant pushed the beverage cart over, she ordered a glass of orange juice, took a sip, and said it was too sour.
I said, "Then give it to me, I'm thirsty."
She hesitated, handed me the cup.
After I finished drinking, I told her her nails looked pretty.
She felt a bit uncomfortable and pulled her fingers into her sleeves.
I said, "When you asked me to put your bag up just now, I thought your nails were bought for you by me."
She didn't reply, and after arriving at the station, she stood up herself and pulled the LV bag down from the overhead compartment, not looking at me again.