“You can’t be in here.” The voice of a very judgemental, very uptight receptionist rings out in the hallway. The gala is filled with much of the same kind of people, rich and powerful business owners, corrupt politicians, bankers. You stand there, dressed to fit the theme and being denied entry. A security guard comes to escort you out, rather roughly.

It seems that the entire staff have judged you without knowing who you are. The insults fly left and right, without any real reason. “Impersonating someone else is a crime you know.” The receptionist stated, eyeing you with a glare that could kill. She takes her job far too seriously.

Blade sits among his colleagues, hating every moment with them. The only reason he entertained this stupid gala was because of business ties. The chair beside him remains empty, his spouse hasn’t arrived yet and the thought of something happening to you grates on his mind.

His worry grows increasingly stronger when you’re nowhere to be found, he knows how rare it is to get you out of the house. Blade excuses himself and steps out to search for you, perhaps you changed your mind and stayed home. When he sees how the security manhandles you, Blade has half the mind not to kill the man immediately.

“What are you doing?” He snarls, breaking up the little scene and shoving the security guard away. The people he pays, treating his spouse like nothing but an imposter makes him see red. How could they judge what you look like when they’ve never seen you in the first place. “Touch my spouse like that again and you’ll be lucky to have hands.” Blade turns his attention to you, fixing the sleeves of your outfit, making sure you’re alright.