The air in the ballroom is heavy with the scent of expensive perfumes, mingling with the sound of crystal glasses clinking and quiet laughter. It’s the kind of event I’ve been attending since I could remember—ritzy, exclusive, and more about appearances than anything else. The Prescott family doesn’t throw small, intimate parties. They go all out, and tonight is no different. I stand near one of the large windows, taking a break from the endless introductions and forced small talk. My parents have been parading me around the room, introducing me to various business associates and family friends, all of them flashing their polite, practiced smiles. It’s exhausting, and all I want is to find a quiet corner where I can hide until the night is over. But, of course, hiding isn’t an option. Especially not with _him_ by my side. Alexander stands a few feet away, his usual air of smug confidence radiating from him as he talks to someone I vaguely recognize from a previous event. He catches my eye and gives me a slight nod, a smirk tugging at his lips as if he knows exactly how uncomfortable I am. We’ve been forced to stick together for most of the night, our parents clearly thrilled with the idea of us “bonding” at yet another family party. I roll my eyes and turn away, scanning the room once more for any sign of Thaddeus. The thought of him has been lingering in the back of my mind ever since we arrived. I know these kinds of events aren’t really his thing, but a part of me had hoped that he might show up anyway. It’s been a while since we last talked, and I can’t help but wonder where he is. My heart skips a beat when I see the doors to the ballroom open. I hold my breath, hoping—_maybe_—it’s him. But instead, it’s his brother, _Edgar_. The enter the ballroom with their usual regal air. Edgar walks in first, flanked by their parents, his tall, commanding presence drawing immediate attention. He’s dressed impeccably, as always, his dark hair perfectly styled and his suit tailored to perfection. There’s an aura of authority around him, a sharp contrast to Thaddeus’ more laid-back approach to these kinds of events. My stomach tightens as I realize I’ll have to greet them. There’s no way I can avoid it. My parents will expect it, and so will theirs. I glance at Alexander, who is still chatting with someone across the room, and let out a sigh. Time to put on the Prescott charm. I step forward, making my way toward the . As I approach, Edgar’s eyes meet mine, and there’s a flicker of recognition in his sharp gaze. He gives me a polite nod, his smile practiced but distant. “Lillian,” he says smoothly, his voice as polished as the rest of him. “It’s been a while.” “Edgar,” I reply, forcing a smile. “It’s good to see you.” His parents, standing just behind him, offer their own greetings, and I exchange pleasantries with them, careful to maintain the poised, perfect daughter image my parents expect. But as soon as the formalities are over, my attention shifts back to Edgar. “I wasn’t expecting you to come alone,” I say, trying to keep my tone casual. “Where’s Thaddeus?” Edgar’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a brief pause before he answers. “He couldn’t make it.” I raise an eyebrow, sensing that there’s more to the story. “That’s not like him.” Edgar’s lips curve into a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Thaddeus has… other priorities at the moment.” His words are direct, but there’s a vagueness to them that makes me uneasy. I can’t tell if he’s deliberately avoiding the question or if there’s something more going on that he’s not sharing. “Other priorities?” I echo, trying to get a little more information out of him. “He didn’t mention anything when we last talked.” Edgar’s gaze sharpens slightly, though his smile remains intact. “Thaddeus doesn’t always mention everything, even to those he’s… close with.” The implication in his words isn’t lost on me, and I feel a strange, uncomfortable tension settle in the pit of my stomach. Edgar’s always had a way of being both charming and unsettling at the same time, and tonight is no different. He’s giving me just enough information to keep me curious, but not enough to truly understand what’s going on. “I see,” I say, keeping my tone even. “Well, if you talk to him, tell him I said hello.” Edgar’s smile widens ever so slightly. “Of course. I’ll let him know.” There’s something about the way he says it that feels final, like there’s no room for further discussion. I know I won’t get any more answers from him tonight, so I decide to let it go, at least for now. I don’t want to push too hard, especially not at a family event where everyone’s watching. We exchange a few more pleasantries before Edgar turns his attention to another group of guests, his parents following him. I let out a quiet breath, relieved to be out of the spotlight, but the uneasy feeling lingers. Something about the way Edgar talked about Thaddeus didn’t sit right with me, and I can’t shake the sense that there’s more to the story than he’s letting on. I turn to walk back to where Alexander was standing, but he’s already moving toward me, that familiar smirk playing on his lips. “Get everything you wanted out of Edgar?” he asks, his voice light but with a hint of something darker underneath. I narrow my eyes at him. “Not really. He was vague, as usual.” Alexander chuckles, shaking his head. “That’s Edgar for you. Always playing his cards close to his chest.” “Do you know where Thaddeus is?” I ask, feeling a flicker of hope that maybe Alexander has more information than his brother does. Alexander’s expression falters for a split second before he quickly recovers, his smirk returning. “He’s probably off doing his own thing. Thaddeus doesn’t exactly follow the family’s playbook.” I frown, not entirely satisfied with the answer but knowing I won’t get anything more out of him either. “Right.” We fall into a brief silence, the noise of the party fading into the background as my thoughts drift back to Thaddeus. Where is he? Why didn’t he come? I can’t shake the feeling that something’s off, but I have no way of knowing what. “Come on,” Alexander says, nudging me with his elbow. “Let’s get a drink. You look like you could use one.” I nod, allowing myself to be pulled back into the present as we head toward the bar. As much as I hate to admit it, Alexander’s presence is a welcome distraction from the uncertainty swirling in my mind. But even as we grab our drinks and fall back into the rhythm of the party, I can’t stop thinking about Thaddeus. And Edgar’s cryptic words. After grabbing our drinks, Alexander and I wander away from the main crowd, finding a quieter corner of the room near one of the grand windows overlooking the gardens. The soft glow of the outdoor lights filters in, casting a warm ambiance that’s a welcome contrast to the polished, overwhelming energy of the party. For a moment, it feels like we’ve managed to carve out a small escape from the expectations surrounding us. I take a sip of my champagne, the bubbles tickling my throat, and glance over at Alexander. He seems more relaxed now, his smirk a little less sharp, and I can’t help but notice how different he looks when he’s not playing the part of the charming heir to the Hawthorne family fortune. “Do you ever get tired of this?” I ask, gesturing vaguely at the party around us. “The constant smiling, the endless small talk, the… charade?” Alexander chuckles softly, swirling the liquid in his glass. “Every single time. But it’s part of the job, isn’t it? Smile, nod, shake hands, pretend like you care about things you don’t.” I laugh, a genuine one that surprises me with how easily it escapes. “You sound like you’ve been doing this for decades.” “Feels like it,” he says with a grin. “Though, I have to say, it’s a little more tolerable with you here.” I raise an eyebrow, not sure if he’s teasing or being serious. “Oh, really? And why is that?” He shrugs, leaning against the window frame. “You’re not like the others. You don’t pretend like this is all normal. You see through it, just like I do.” I blink, a little taken aback by the unexpected compliment. “I didn’t think you noticed.” “I notice more than you think,” he says, his voice softer now, less teasing. “You’re good at hiding it, but you hate this just as much as I do.” I stare at him for a moment, not sure how to respond. It’s strange, this new dynamic between us. For so long, I’ve only seen Alexander as the cocky, smug guy who gets under my skin, but here, now, he feels different. More real. More… relatable. “I guess we have that in common,” I admit, taking another sip of my drink. We fall into an easy silence for a few moments, the sound of the party continuing around us but feeling distant, like we’re in our own little bubble. It’s nice, not having to put on a show for once, not having to pretend like I’m the perfect Prescott daughter. “Tell me something,” Alexander says suddenly, turning to face me fully. “What would you be doing if you weren’t here right now? If you didn’t have to play the role of the dutiful daughter?” I smile, appreciating the shift to something lighter. “I’d probably be back at school, studying or practicing volleyball.” He raises an eyebrow. “Studying? On a Friday night?” “Hey, some of us actually care about our grades,” I tease. He chuckles, shaking his head. “I always forget how serious you are about your academics.” “I’m not _that_ serious,” I say, though the truth is, I’ve always thrown myself into my studies as a way to escape the pressures of my family. “I just want to make sure I’m doing something that matters.” Alexander tilts his head, his gaze thoughtful. “You already are.” I glance at him, surprised again by the sincerity in his voice. There’s a warmth in his eyes that I hadn’t noticed before, something that feels… genuine. It catches me off guard, and for a moment, I don’t know what to say. Before I can respond, Alexander grins, shifting the tone back to something more playful. “Besides, I can’t imagine you as the party animal type.” I laugh, grateful for the change in topic. “You’re right about that. I’d probably embarrass myself if I tried to keep up with people at one of these parties.” “Oh, come on,” he says, nudging me with his elbow. “I bet your secretly the life of the party. All eyes on Lillian Prescott, the volleyball star.” I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but smile. “Yeah, right.” We continue talking, our conversation flowing easily as we move from topic to topic—school, volleyball, even the ridiculousness of some of the guests at the party. It feels surprisingly comfortable, laughing with Alexander, like we’ve known each other for longer than just a few months. It’s a strange realization, but not an unwelcome one. For a brief moment, I forget about the pressures of the night, about Thaddeus’ absence, about everything weighing on my mind. It’s just Alexander and me, sharing a rare moment of ease in a world that’s always demanding more. But, as always, reality has a way of catching up. Just as we’re laughing about something absurd one of the guests said earlier, I see movement out of the corner of my eye. I glance over to see Alexander’s parents approaching, their expressions polite but firm as they approach us. My stomach sinks, knowing what’s coming. Alexander notices them too, his smile faltering slightly. “Looks like I’m being summoned.” I force a smile, not wanting to let on that I’m disappointed. “Duty calls.” He sighs, draining the rest of his drink. “Always does.” As his parents reach us, they give me polite nods before turning their attention to Alexander. His mother, ever the picture of grace and elegance, places a hand on his arm. “Alexander, darling,” she says, her tone warm but commanding. “We need you to come meet a few people.” Alexander glances at me, his smirk returning, though there’s a hint of reluctance in his eyes. “Guess I’ll have to leave you to survive the rest of this on your own.” “I’ll manage,” I say, my smile genuine this time. He winks at me before turning to follow his parents, disappearing into the crowd as they usher him away to fulfill his family obligations. And just like that, the easy warmth of our conversation fades, replaced by the cold reality of the night. I stand there for a moment, watching as Alexander is swallowed up by the crowd, and I feel a pang of loneliness creep in. As much as I’d been dreading spending time with him tonight, it had been… nice. Unexpectedly nice. But now, with him gone, I’m left alone to navigate the rest of the evening. With a sigh, I scan the room for my parents and spot my father standing near the center of the ballroom, deep in conversation with a group of business associates. I know what’s expected of me—stand by his side, smile, nod, and play the role of the perfect daughter. There’s no escaping it. Steeling myself, I make my way over to him, slipping into place beside him just as one of his associates glances my way. “Ah, Lillian,” my father says, his voice smooth as he gestures to me. “This is my daughter, Lillian Prescott. She’s studying international relations and making quite a name for herself at ==Riverton==.” I force a polite smile, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries as the men around me nod approvingly. It’s the same routine, the same script I’ve been following for years. I know exactly what to say, exactly how to act, but tonight, more than ever, it feels hollow. The rest of the evening blurs together in a haze of forced smiles and meaningless conversation. I stand by my father’s side, fulfilling my role, but my mind keeps drifting back to the conversation I had with Alexander, the ease of it, the laughter. For a brief moment, I had felt… free. But now, back in my father’s world, that freedom feels like a distant memory.