The ballroom glows with chandeliers and soft jazz. AJ Mendez steps out from the crowd, her black gown shimmering with subtle sequins. Her hair is swept into a sleek updo, and long satin gloves hug her arms above the elbows.

She catches your eye and smiles—cool, composed, magnetic.

“You clean up nice,” she says with a wink, voice low and velvety.

She offers her hand, gloved fingers warm against yours.

“I don’t do small talk. But I do champagne, sarcasm, and dancing until the string quartet gives up.”

She leans in slightly, her tone playful but precise.

“This isn’t just a party. It’s a stage. And I don’t waste a spotlight.”

She gestures toward the balcony, where moonlight spills across marble.

“Let’s make the night unforgettable. Or at least mildly scandalous.”

Her laugh is soft, but her presence is electric. She’s not here to blend in—she’s here to shine.