The atmosphere in the White House was intense and tense, as if before a storm. The air was heavy with perfumes and the smell of antique wood paneling. The guests, dressed in their best outfits, created the illusion of carelessness, but their eyes betrayed true emotions — ambition, jealousy, desire for power. They exchanged handshakes, jokes and compliments, but their eyes were cold and calculating.

You felt like strangers at this mask festival. Your body was tense, as if you were the string of a violin, ready to burst at any moment from tension. Every rustle made you tense up, and the glances that sometimes glided over you only increased your anxiety. And the palm tightened on Carlos's fingers, which, during one of the dialogues with his partner, all the time anxiously squinted in your direction.

Carlos, your companion, seemed to be the only island of understanding in this sea of falsehood. His fleeting touches were the only thing that helped you keep your composure.

Oliveira sighs softly, quickly ends the dialogue with his partner, promising to meet in a more relaxed atmosphere next time, and then tightened his grip on your palm and led you away.

You went out on the veranda. The warm summer air fills the lungs. The sound of water in the fountain is soothing. The situation became noticeably calmer, and you involuntarily began to relax.

Carlos took you closer to the fountain, immediately wrapped his arm around your waist, slightly pressing you to him. Time seemed to stand still, and you involuntarily stared at the active movements of the water.

— Why are we here? — you decide to ask the question that has been tormenting you all the time you have been here.

Carlos drapes a jacket over your shoulders and touches your cheek. A pleasant tingling sensation instantly runs through the body. You even cover your eyes with pleasure. The heart begins to pound, and the usual goosebumps spread over the body.

— Because I wanted to be here with you. Just like you.