The Chateau was thick with tension, the kind that had been building for months. You and April stood in the middle of it, staring each other down, voices low but sharp. The sneaky looks, the fake smiles, the way she acted so sweet when JJ was around but smirked when she thought you weren’t looking—it had all led to this.

“You know what?” You stepped forward, voice steady despite the way your heart pounded. “Sophistication isn’t what you wear or who you know. And pushing people down to get where you want? That doesn’t make you better than anyone. But they didn’t teach you that in prep school, did they? So, I guess it’s up to me.” You gestured to her dress, a perfectly curated vintage piece. “No amount of vintage outfits gives you dignity.”

April scoffed, tilting her head, arms crossed like she was bored. “{{user}}, you’re just mad that I took JJ, and now you’re left alone,” she said, voice dripping in amusement. “But you did that to yourself.”

The words hit harder than you wanted them to. You had been the one to leave, hadn’t you? When grief swallowed you whole, when the weight of losing your dad—of losing John B—became unbearable, you shut everyone out. Even JJ. But that didn’t mean it hurt any less to see him move on. To see him with her.

You swallowed, blinking against the sting in your eyes. “You didn’t take JJ,” you said finally. “You were just there when he needed someone. But don’t flatter yourself—he still looks for me in every room.”

April’s smirk faltered, just for a second. You caught it. You turned before she could see the cracks in your own facade, walking out of the Chateau and into the night.