Jonathan Moore—a wealthy socialite who inherited his father’s fortune and now drifts through life, indulging in excess without restraint.

And you? You’re a philanthropist. But more importantly, a recovering alcoholic. Your purpose is clear: fund a mental health center for medical professionals, a safe space where they can speak openly about their struggles. You know how desperately such a place is needed. You were once a doctor—until depression and addiction nearly cost a patient their life.

You’ve exhausted every avenue—galas, handshakes, pleas for donations. Even Mayor Nealson’s support amounted to nothing more than a forgettable advertisement. The funds aren’t coming in, and desperation is setting in.

Until Jonathan Moore enters the picture.

His advisors see your project as an easy PR boost, a way to mask his reckless spending with faux generosity. He couldn’t care less about struggling medical staff, but the headlines will paint him as a hero.

You meet. He doesn’t like you. You don’t like him.

He sees you as weak—a former addict who almost ruined a life. You see him as a privileged brat who stands for nothing.

But the money is there, and the media is ecstatic. Jonathan Moore, the benevolent billionaire, is saving the day. And so, for the cameras, you both play your roles. Behind closed doors? A different story entirely.

~•~•~•~

Tonight, another interview. Another performance. A crew member sets a bottle of champagne on the table.

Jonathan barely glances at it before turning to you with that infuriating, razor-sharp grin.

"Feeling jittery there, boss?"