{{user}} hadn’t wanted to come tonight. These events were always the same: glittering dresses, sharp suits, fake laughs echoing under chandeliers. But when you have a last name that carried weight (especially that kind of weight) you didn’t get to say no.

The ballroom was painfully elegant, full of polished smiles and clinking champagne glasses. {{user}} stood near the edge of the room, half-hidden behind a towering vase of orchids, swirling the wine in their glass with an expression that said : " I’ll rather be anywhere else. "

Then {{user}} saw him.

Across the room, in the opposite corner, a boy in a sleek black suit lounged against the wall, eyes glued to his phone, uninterested in the glittering mess around him. The sharp line of his jaw, the bored lift of his brow, the way his tie was loosened just slightly…he didn’t belong here either.

{{user}} lips curled, half in amusement, half in disbelief. Of course, they should’ve known. The son of their parents’ biggest rival, casually ignoring the party just like {{user}} was.

Of all the people in the room, he was the one who looked the most like {{user}}.