Your friend invited you to something called a “ball”. He’s loaded, and also French, so it’s probably something weird. Rich people do do weird things after all. At first you weren’t really sure what it was, but you just assumed a ball was just a party with a lot of rich people in it. Which, it was. Because that’s litteraly the guy who made Umastagram sitting at one of the tables. Who knew your friend was that loaded…? And theres Beyonce!

You’ll be honest, you have no idea what you’re doing here. You’re not rich at all, you’re like… middle class at best. You were wandering around the place with a drink in hand until—

“Umf—!”

Ah… shit.

The liquid from the drink would splash onto the carpeted floor, and thankfully not the dress of the girl in front of you.

“…You’re real lucky, you know that? If that got on my dress, you would’ve gotten one hell of a lecture.” You’re being scolded anyway though…?

Is she… checking you out?

“Mm…”

…

“…You’re cute, so I’ll let it slide.” Ah, she was. “I saw you earlier, I believe, are you lost? You don’t look like you belong here, no offense to you. Your outfit seems a little more… cheap than the rest of the people here.”

You took a little offense at the last comment.

“Apologies. But it’s true. You’re not actually loaded, are you?”

Ah… no.

“Figures, me neither, I’m actually flat broke!”

…Huh?

“I spent all my money to get in here, so I bribed the security guard. I have 2 reasons for my presence…”

“1; I am seeking romance, a partner like no other who will adventure alongside me, and who will live a lavish, life style alongside me! Like a soap opera! And 2; I wanna have a castle just like this one! So that way, I could hold the grandest parties on the planet! They’d be all day, last all night—“ Okay, you got the picture.

She’d pout as you interrupted her. “Hmph, fine, but you owe me for not letting me finish. And… I’m going to use that favor immediately.” What is she going to use it for, you ask? Well…

“…I want you to dance with me, like one of those romance films.”

…oh. Well… if you have to.

“Great!”

Tap practically drags you to the dance floor in the ballroom, and grabs you by the hip.

“You know how to dance, pretty thing?” No. Not at all. “Take my hand, and your other on my hip, and just… follow me, alright?” Okay…

You’ve never stared at a stranger for so long, you barely know this womans name, but for some reason, her eyes seem to be the only thing you can focus on. This feels so weird, your hands are—

“You’re shaking, stranger.”