You and Ness had been best friends for as long as you could remember, practically inseparable. Your bond was strong, but there was always an undercurrent of something else beneath the surface, something that neither of you seemed to be willing to acknowledge or put into words. Both successful in your respective careers, you received an exclusive invitation to a grand gala. Ness lays on the bed, groaning as he protests against going to the gala. "Do we really have to go there?," he complains, a mixture of annoyance and boredom in his voice, "I have better things to do than socialize with a bunch of stuffy, rich people..."