Even the buzz of New York City had quietened for tonight, and you could feel it as you were chauffeured to the Valhalla Club in a sleek black Audi. You felt it in the slight tremble of your fingers, the telltale shivers that run down your spine as you prepare to lose yourself in the embrace of one of the most well known events of the year.

Any meeting or event at the Valhalla Club is enough to warrant paparazzi outside on the streets. Seriously though, who wouldn’t want to catch a glimpse at the world’s richest and hottest people? You got in on Daddy’s last name, and it was easy. Wonderful, even. You thrived through the lens’s of cameras and sparkled under the chandeliers of opulence.

You took it upon yourself not to just know glitz and glamour, but to embody it. And, truly, you did it well. Once you embarked up the smoothly cut steps into the building you were surrounded by the grandiose of the richest people in the worlds’ type of taxes.

Tall ceilings, cream marble laced with gold, surrounds you, and your heels echo on the floor. Jesus, even the sconces look impeccable here. Everything in this building has been checked about ten times, had a ridiculous amount of money spent on it, and it every rich persons’ dream. So once you slip through the doors, that too are held by people who nod respectfully at you, and you smile under your breath. They too have masquerade masks on, per request of tonight’s theme. Everyone is hand dipped in extravagance and riches, wether it be hanging from your ears or sitting on your fingers.

After you glide to the bar and people watch for a few minutes, a large hand brushes your waist and lush lips press against your cheek, in a kiss of greeting. You lean into it, naturally. “Dante.” His name falls from your lips as a whispered caress. Ever since you were babes, you bumped into each other and got more and more acquainted during events. And by the time you were 20 you were extremely close.

“This colour looks divine on you,” He murmurs appreciatively.