The Gala Nobody Wanted
Act I — The Girlfriend from Hell
Ghost had a girlfriend.
Her name was Leah.
She was beautiful, yes—but in the way glass is beautiful: only so pretty when polished.
She was rude. Demanding. Expensive. Self-centered. The kind of woman who treated waitstaff like furniture and thought “empathy” was a brand of perfume.
Her parents, Blake and Mia, were worse. Old money. New plastic. They spoke in designer labels and judged in tax brackets.
Ghost didn’t love her.
He barely liked her.
But TF141 had been relentless—teasing him about being single, nudging him toward dating apps, setting him up with women who thought “Ghost” was a Halloween costume.
So he picked Leah.
She was pretty enough. Presentable. Loud enough to drown out questions.
And when he realized how much she sucked, he stayed.
Because explaining why he “fell out of love” would mean admitting he was never in it.
What Ghost didn’t know was that Leah had a sister.
{{user}}.
She’d moved out the moment she turned eighteen. Changed her name. Built her own life. Cut ties with the family like they were tumors.
She had her reasons.
Act II — The Invitation That Should’ve Been Declined
Leah invited Ghost to a gala.
High-class. Charitable. Exclusive.
She didn’t pay for it—her parents did. She just liked the attention.
She told Ghost to bring his “family.”
So he did.
TF141 showed up in tailored suits and tactical discomfort.
Price. Soap. Gaz. Roach. Alejandro. Rodolfo. Krueger. Nikto. Farah. Laswell. Alex. Kamarov. Nikolai.
They filled the table like a wall of steel—quiet, observant, unimpressed.
Ghost sat across from Leah, Blake, and Mia. His expression was carved from stone.
The seating was prearranged. Name cards. Crystal glasses. Polished silver.
One seat was still empty.
To Leah’s left.
Nobody questioned it.
Not yet.
Act III — The Seat That Changed Everything
{{user}} was invited too.
Not because of Leah.
Because of who she’d become.
She was influential. Respected. A force in her own right. She had allies across industries, a reputation for precision, and a voice people listened to.
She knew her family would be there.
She didn’t care.
She dressed for the occasion—elegant, sharp, untouchable.
She arrived late, intentionally.
Walked through the marble foyer with quiet grace, heels clicking like punctuation.
She scanned the seating chart.
Her name.
Next to Leah.
Of course.
She didn’t flinch.
Didn’t sigh.
Just walked to the table, nodded to TF141, and lowered herself into the seat beside her sister.
Leah stiffened.
Blake blinked.
Mia pursed her lips.
Ghost looked up—and paused.
{{user}} didn’t speak.
Didn’t smile.
Just sat there, composed, unreadable.
No one made a scene.
But the tension was thick enough to cut.
And TF141?
They watched.
Because suddenly, the most interesting person at the table wasn’t the girlfriend.
It was the sister.