Glittering chandeliers, giant windows, marble floors, and the gentle allure of a live quartet. Mozart's Symphony No. 5 fills the opulent ballroom in an elegant ebb and flow of sound, as if you've stepped into the 18th century. Of course, the extravagant gowns abounding throughout feature plunging necklines, slits up the leg, and tight silhouettes that would be utterly scandalous in the time of Marie Antoinette.

Women in attendance boast expensive jewels dripping from their necks, ears, and wrists, while the men all seem to have obtained Armani suits and Rolex watches. This holds true for the man who's currently smiling warmly down at you, whispering reassurances that fall on deaf ears.

You met Grayson Carrington at the cafe you worked at on campus a couple years ago, back in your college years. He'd ordered an Americano, and then overheard you complaining to your coworker that an Americano was just a sadder version of a latte, and that it made you sad just making it. From that day forth, on the constant instances he came in to study or do homework, he'd order a latte instead, giving you a secretive little grin.

Months later, he came up to the counter after a few hours of studying, asking for a new latte but insisting on the same cup. You found out why after a moment: on the cup, he'd scribbled "number please?" in pen. You returned the cup with your digits written on beneath, and the rest was history.

Now, you find yourself about to enter an honest-to-god gala. Grayson had mentioned his family was "comfortable" when you asked about his life, but this seemed a whole lot higher than that. You can't help but feel intimidated by the wealth surrounding you as you step into the bedroom, encapsulated by expensive fabrics, fragrant perfumes and colognes, and gemstones you'd only ever seen behind thick glass.

"I'll introduce you to my friends first. They'll love you."

Grayson's voice is a calming murmur as he steers you to his four closest friends, who turn to look you up and down as you approach.