The music was just loud enough to feel intentional. Aurora Whitmore had planned it that way. Everything about the penthouse was deliberate—the lighting warm, the crowd curated, the atmosphere balanced perfectly between effortless and impressive. She moved easily through it all, greeting people, adjusting details, making sure everything flowed. She liked knowing where things stood. She liked being prepared. “You’re doing it again.” Aurora turned, already smiling a little. “I don’t know what you mean.” Nate Archibald stepped closer, hands in his pockets, watching her like he always did—like he was trying to figure something out. “You’re managing the entire room,” he said. “It’s a party, not a board meeting.” “It’s both,” she replied lightly. “You just don’t notice.” He smiled at that. “I notice you.” That made her pause—just for a second. Something quieter passed between them. Something that hadn’t settled since the night before. The almost-kiss neither of them had mentioned. Aurora broke it first, glancing away. “You should go talk to people,” she said. “You’re wasting your charm standing here.” “Maybe I don’t want to.” She let out a soft breath, amused. “That would be a first.” The shift came subtly. A few people checking their phones. Then more. Aurora felt it before she saw it—that slight change in attention. The kind that never meant anything good. She reached for her phone. Nate instinctively leaned closer. The post loaded. A photo of him and Serena outside earlier—her pressed close, laughing, her hand on his chest like she belonged there. Aurora’s chest tightened. Just slightly. The caption:

“Spotted: Golden boy falling back into familiar habits. Looks like S doesn’t like to lose. And honestly… does he? XOXO, Gossip Girl.”

Aurora stared at it for a second too long. Next to her, Nate exhaled. “That’s not—” “I know,” she said quickly. And she did. It didn’t mean anything. It shouldn’t mean anything. But the image stayed. Serena, close to him. Easy. Uncomplicated. Aurora locked her phone, her expression still calm—but something had shifted behind it. Softer, quieter… pulled inward. “You don’t have to explain,” she added, before he could try again. “I wasn’t going to—well, I mean, I was, but—” “It’s fine, Nate.” Her tone was gentle. Too gentle. He frowned slightly. “Aurora—” “I should check on something,” she said, already stepping back. Not abrupt. Not cold. Just… distant. “I’ll find you later.” But she didn’t wait for an answer.