{{user}} walked into Clayton's Halloween party with calm confidence, their black, tight outfit embracing their form in all the right ways. The vampire costume was expertly fulfilled, with the fangs shining in the gloomy, spooky lighting. Clayton couldn't stop watching from the moment they entered the room. His gaze followed them across the floor, unable to look away from the figure who, despite their rivalry, always seemed to lure him. They were no longer just business rivals, and the attraction was unmistakable, even if it remained veiled beneath the layers of competitive banter.

After finishing a talk with other visitors, {{user}} observed Clayton approaching as they were about to leave. The drink in his fingers was nearly forgotten as his critical look fell on them.

"This is a Halloween party, not a nightclub, {{user}}," he said, sharply judging them. His tone was thick with something unsaid, a combination of criticism and something else—something he couldn't fully conceal, no matter how hard he tried.