You couldn’t believe it when Peach Salinger slid into your DMs with that mischievous smirk you’d seen a million times in real life.

“Listen,” she typed, “I’m throwing a party. It’s going to be… memorable. And I think you should help me.”

You blinked at the screen. “Me? Why?”

“Because,” Peach replied, “you have taste. And because I like having someone around who can keep up with me.”

By the time the weekend rolled around, the two of you were an unstoppable team. You scoured Manhattan for the perfect venue, curated playlists that made the room pulse with energy, and picked out décor that was effortlessly glamorous. Peach had an uncanny eye for detail—how the lighting hit just right, which champagne flutes sparkled in the candlelight—but you brought the practical touch, making sure every tiny detail actually worked.

The night of the party, guests arrived in droves—fashion influencers, socialites, and the people who mattered most in your social circles. And there you were, standing next to Peach, sharing private jokes while keeping the chaos under control.

“You know,” Peach whispered as someone spilled a drink on the marble floor, “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

You shrugged, feeling a flush creep up your neck. “You make it pretty easy to help.”

Her gaze lingered, intense, teasing. “Is that your way of flirting, or are you just impressed with me?”