The morning after the business dinner, I wake up feeling a strange mix of calm and restlessness. Last night was… well, different. Not in the way I expected. The event itself had been the usual—endless conversations about family businesses, partnerships, and deals—but meeting up with Thaddeus outside, sneaking away to smoke and talk under the stars, had changed the tone of the night entirely. It was the first time I felt like I didn’t have to pretend. I stretch, kick the covers off, and stare at the ceiling. My mind keeps replaying bits of our conversation—the ease and depth of it. His eyes seemed to pull me in, like he could see through all the polished layers I wear around my family. With a groan, I pull myself out of bed. Today, I have classes to focus on. Just as I’m about to start getting ready for the day, my phone buzzes on the nightstand. I pick it up, expecting a message from Grace or Henry, but instead, it’s my father. **Dad**: _Dinner tonight. 7 p.m. Don’t be late._ I sigh, the peaceful mood of the morning shattered. It’s only been a few hours since I got back from the last dinner, and already he’s pulling me back into his orbit. I don’t bother replying right away. I can deal with it later. I throw on some jeans and a sweater, deciding to head to the campus ==café== to grab coffee. Maybe I’ll run into Grace, or at least Henry, before my first class. I need the distraction, and I need to mentally prepare myself for the day ahead. By the time I reach the ==café==, the usual morning rush has started. Students line up for coffee, their faces half-asleep and their bags loaded with textbooks. I order a latte and take a seat by the window, letting the warmth of the coffee seep into me. I still haven’t fully shaken off the haze of last night, or the way Thaddeus made me feel—like I could breathe. As I’m sipping my coffee, I spot Henry walking in, his signature grin already plastered across his face. He spots me and heads over, dropping into the seat across from me without hesitation. “You look like you need this coffee more than I do,” he says, pointing to my half-empty cup. “I do,” I admit with a laugh. “Last night was a lot.” “Tell me about it. I spent the whole night networking and trying to remember people’s names.” Henry leans back in his chair, looking far too awake for someone who had been in the same stuffy dinner I was. “But hey, progress was made. I think I impressed a couple of people. Family business, here I come.” I smile, but there’s a pang of something—envy, maybe?—at how easily Henry seems to slip into the role his family expects of him. He’s never fought it the way I have. Maybe because it’s what he genuinely wants. “Sounds like you’re on track,” I say, stirring my coffee absentmindedly. “Yeah, I think I am,” he replies, but then he gives me a more thoughtful look. “You good, though? You seemed kind of checked out last night after a while.” I hesitate for a second, thinking back to Thaddeus and our little escape from the party. I hadn’t told Henry or Grace about it yet, but there’s something about it that feels too personal, too special to share right away. “I’m fine,” I say, not quite lying but not giving the full truth either. “Just the usual family stuff. You know how it is.” Henry nods, his expression softening. “Yeah, I get it. You’ll figure it out, though. You always do.” I smile gratefully, glad he doesn’t push the issue. Henry’s always been good about that—knowing when to dig deeper and when to let things go. Just as we’re about to finish our coffees, Grace walks in, her hair pulled into a messy bun and ==oversized== sunglasses shielding half her face. “I’m alive,” she declares, sliding into the seat next to me. “Barely.” I laugh, shaking my head. “Rough night?” “More like rough morning,” Grace groans, pulling off her sunglasses to reveal tired eyes. “I stayed up late sketching for this new project, and I forgot that sleep is a thing normal people need.” “Classic Grace,” Henry teases, reaching over to steal a sip of her coffee when it arrives. We spend the next half-hour catching up, laughing, and talking about our plans for the day. Eventually, time starts ticking away, and I know I need to head to class. When I arrive, the lecture hall is already full. I find a seat near the middle and pull out my notebook and pens. I glance around the room, trying to get a sense of the other students. Most of them are either focused on their phones or talking in low voices with their friends, not paying much attention to anything yet. As I settle in, I spot someone familiar walking into the room. My heart skips a beat as I realize it’s _Alexander Hawthorne_. He strides in with that same effortless confidence he always carries, his eyes scanning the room before they land on me. For a moment, we lock eyes, and I can’t help but feel that same chill run down my spine. His smirk widens slightly, like he knows exactly what effect he has. I quickly look away, focusing on the syllabus the professor has started handing out. The last thing I need is to get distracted by Alexander. He’s always playing games, always trying to push buttons—and I’m not about to let him push mine. The class goes by quickly, the professor diving into the syllabus and the topics we’ll be covering this semester. But I can’t fully concentrate. My mind keeps drifting back to last night, to Thaddeus, to the feeling of sitting under the stars with him. It felt real, in a way that most things in my life don’t. When the lecture ends, I gather my things and head out, hoping to catch some fresh air before heading to my next class. As I step outside, my phone buzzes again. It’s my father. Again. **Dad**: _Dinner. Don’t forget._ I grit my teeth, feeling the familiar frustration rise. I know I have to go. There’s no way around it. But the thought of spending another evening smiling through conversations I don’t care about, pretending to be the daughter they want me to be, is exhausting. That evening, after hours of studying and catching up on classwork, I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the same blue dress from the night before. It felt even more like a costume now. I took a deep breath, smoothed my hair down, and prepared myself for another round of Prescott family duties. When I arrive at the restaurant where the dinner is being held, I immediately feel the tension in the air. The atmosphere is polished and formal, the kind of place where everything feels calculated. My parents are already seated, engaged in conversation with another couple I vaguely recognize from other business events. As I slide into my seat, my father gives me a quick nod of approval, but there’s no warmth behind it. My mother smiles at me, but it’s the same rehearsed smile she always gives when we’re in public. I’ve seen it a thousand times before. “Lily,” my mother says softly, “you look lovely.” The dinner drags on, the conversation shifting from one dull topic to the next—investments, partnerships, family businesses. I zone out, nodding politely when necessary but barely engaging. My mind keeps wandering back to Thaddeus, wondering if he’s here tonight, or if he managed to escape the social obligations like he always seems to. After what feels like hours, I excuse myself to get some fresh air. The restaurant has a small garden outside, and I slip out into the cool night air, grateful for the silence. And then, just as I’m starting to relax, I hear a familiar voice behind me. “Escaping the party again?” I turn to see Thaddeus leaning casually against the garden wall, his hands in his pockets, that same lazy grin on his face. My heart skips a beat, and I can’t help but smile. “Seems like we have a habit of running into each other like this,” I say, walking over to join him. “Maybe we’re both just experts at avoiding the same boring situations,” he replies, his voice low and warm. We settle into an easy conversation, just like the night before. Thaddeus lights up a joint, offering it to me, and I take it without hesitation this time. The smoke curls around us, and the tension from the dinner fades into the background. “So,” he says after a long silence, his eyes meeting mine with that same intensity that always catches me off guard. “What’s next for Lillian Prescott?” I shrug, leaning back against the wall, exhaling slowly. “Who knows? Survive another dinner, go back to classes, try to figure out what I’m actually doing with my life.” Thaddeus laughs softly, shaking his head. “Sounds familiar. Though I have to say, I think you’re closer to figuring it out than you give yourself credit for.” I glance at him, feeling that same strange connection from the night before—the way he seems to see through all the layers I put up, straight to the heart of things. It’s both comforting and unnerving. “What about you?” I ask, turning the question back on him. “What’s next for Thaddeus, second-born son of the illustrious family?” He smirks, taking another drag of the joint. “Oh, you know. Probably just more of the same. Keep dodging the expectations, and avoid getting sucked into the family business. It’s a delicate balancing act.” I laugh, but there’s something in his tone that makes me wonder if it’s harder for him than he lets on. After a while, Thaddeus turns to me, his eyes catching mine in the dim light. There’s that same intensity again, that quiet understanding that sends a chill down my spine. “You know,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “you don’t have to figure it all out right now. Sometimes it’s okay to just… be.” I nod, slowly losing myself in the intensity of his eyes. As the minutes pass, we seem to gravitate closer, closing the gap between us. We stay like that for a while longer, the stars overhead, the quiet hum of the world around us. As we sit in the quiet garden under the soft glow of the moon, the conversation naturally shifts to something lighter. I take another drag from the joint, the smoke curling lazily into the air, before passing it back to Thaddeus. “You know,” he says, his voice taking on a more playful tone, “if we had any sense, we’d be somewhere else right now. Somewhere more exciting.” I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh yeah? And where would that be?” Thaddeus grins, leaning back against the stone wall. “Anywhere but here. Maybe on a yacht, sailing through the Mediterranean. Or hiding out in some tiny village in the middle of nowhere, eating the best food you’ve ever had, with no one around to tell you who you should be.” I laugh at the image of us on a yacht, completely removed from the stuffy world of family obligations. “A yacht, huh? That sounds a little too glamorous for me.” He smirks, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “Oh, come on. You’d love it. No responsibilities, no expectations. Just us, the ocean, and whatever adventures we could find. If not a yacht, we can do a small little sailboat, whatever makes you happy.” The idea is absurd, but something about it makes me smile. “You know, you might be onto something. Maybe we should drop everything and become international fugitives. Live off the grid.” Thaddeus laughs, the sound rich and warm, and it sends another shiver down my spine. “Now you’re talking. We’d be the most elegant fugitives the world has ever seen. They’d write stories about us.” I can’t help but giggle, the thought of us living this glamorous, rogue lifestyle too ridiculous to be anything but hilarious. The weed is making everything funnier, and I find myself relaxing more and more, the weight of the world fading as we joke about escaping the lives we’re tied to. But just as we’re starting to really get into the fantasy, the garden door creaks open, and a figure steps out into the night. My heart skips a beat, and for a moment, I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. “_Thaddeus_.” The voice is sharp, scolding, and unmistakable. I blink, and my stomach drops as I realize who it is. It’s _Thaddeus’ mother_, her posture rigid, her face tight with disapproval. She’s dressed in an immaculate black gown, looking every bit the powerful woman she is, and in that moment, I can’t decide if I should be mortified or amused. Thaddeus, however, doesn’t seem fazed at all. He leans back casually, his grin never faltering, even as his mother glares down at us. “Mother,” he says smoothly, his voice dripping with mock innocence. “Fancy seeing you here.” Her eyes narrow, and for a second, I swear I see her jaw clench. “I’ve been looking for you. You were supposed to be inside, not out here… doing this.” She gestures vaguely at the joint in Thaddeus’ hand, her disdain palpable. Thaddeus glances at me, and I can see the amusement dancing in his eyes. We’re both high, and the situation is far too absurd to take seriously. He raises the joint to his lips, taking a slow drag before blowing the smoke out in a lazy, defiant plume. “I just needed a break,” he says, flashing his mother that same mischievous grin. “You know how these dinners are—exhausting.” I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. His mother looks absolutely furious, but there’s a part of me that finds the whole thing hysterical. Thaddeus, cool as ever, isn’t even pretending to be sorry. And for some reason, that makes it even funnier. His mother crosses her arms, her gaze flicking to me, and I feel the full force of her disapproval land squarely on my shoulders. “And you,” she says, her voice icy. “Lillian, you’re a Prescott. You should know better.” The mention of my family name snaps me out of my near-laughing fit. I open my mouth to say something—anything—but the words get stuck in my throat. Thankfully, Thaddeus jumps in before I can make it worse. “Don’t blame her, Mother,” he says smoothly, still grinning. “I’m the bad influence here. You know me. Always causing trouble.” His mother’s lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, I’m sure she’s about to explode. But instead, she lets out a slow breath, her eyes narrowing at her son. “You’re impossible, Thaddeus.” He shrugs, completely unfazed. “You love me anyway.” She glares at him for another long moment, then turns on her heel, motioning for us to follow. “The dinner is almost over. We’re leaving soon. Try not to make a scene on your way back in.” As soon as she’s gone, Thaddeus and I exchange a glance, and it’s all we can do to keep from bursting into laughter. “That was… something,” I say, shaking my head, the absurdity of the situation hitting me all at once. Thaddeus grins, leaning in slightly, closing the gap even more. “Welcome to my life.” We manage to make our way back inside without causing too much of a stir, though I can still feel the giggles bubbling up inside me. It’s clear Thaddeus isn’t taking any of this seriously, and his nonchalance is infectious. Once we’re back in the ballroom, the dinner is winding down, and I spot my parents near the exit, chatting with another couple. I feel a pang of dread, knowing I’ll have to face them soon. But I also feel lighter—like the tension that’s been building up all night has finally melted away. Thaddeus leans in close as we approach the door, his voice low. “We should do this more often.” I glance at him, and the intensity of his gaze sends that familiar chill down my spine. “Sneaking away from fancy dinners to smoke in the garden?” “Exactly,and who knows, next time it’ll be on the boat,” he says with a smirk. “You make a good partner in crime.” I smile, feeling that strange connection between us deepen. As we step outside, my parents spot me and immediately wave me over. I sigh, knowing the night is officially over, and the reality of being a Prescott daughter is about to crash back down. “Well, I guess this is goodbye,” I say, turning to Thaddeus. “For now,” he replies, his grin never faltering. “But we’ll do this again. Trust me.” I nod, trying to ignore the flutter in my chest as we part ways. As I walk over to my parents, I can still feel Thaddeus’ eyes on me, and for a moment, I wonder what it would be like to really escape with him—to sail off on that imaginary yacht and leave all of this behind. The car ride back to campus is quiet. My parents are too busy discussing the night’s conversations to pay much attention to me. I glance out the window, watching the city lights blur as we drive past, and I can’t help but think about Thaddeus’ words from earlier. Sometimes, it’s okay to just… be. Maybe he’s right. Maybe we don’t have to figure it all out just yet. As we pull up to the university, I say a quick goodbye to my parents and head back to my dorm. The night feels like it’s lasted forever, and I’m ready to collapse into bed. But as I lie there, staring up at the ceiling, my mind keeps drifting back to Thaddeus—the way he looked at me, the way he made me feel like I wasn’t alone in this. And for the first time in a long time, I fall asleep with a smile on my face.