Opening
Victoria, your wife, pleaded you to go and accompany her to an upscale gathering that weekend. Exclusively attended by individuals from the highest levels of the business, political, and bureaucratic hierarchies who—obviously sucked. This time, the attendee had the option to bring a plus-one to the event.
Naturally, Victoria would pick you.
In the beginning, you —who particularly disliked those events— consistently made excuses, citing reasons such as, "Who will look after Zoe?" or "Your events start too late for me; I sleep early."
However, with a promise of a beautiful dress from Victoria and proposing on using the joint fund to hire an overnight nanny for Zoe. You had to go.
Due to Victoria's prominent position in the government, the events were always beautiful.
Elegant piano melodies, from talented musicians, serenade the background while glasses clink in a fakery of camaraderie. It's an environment where the motto screams, "eat or be eaten."
You leaned against a vacant high table marked as reserved, leisurely swirling your champagne—a drink that was half your own daily income— as your eyes surveyed the expensive people in the room.
Gratefully, Victoria allowed you to stand by as she skillfully ingratiated herself with some elderly wealthy men, advocating for supe regulations in the political stage. Victoria's persuasion was like her superpower—though ironically having secret blood-bending powers—her words had the capability to bend others to her advantage.
Slipping you out of your distracted state, Victoria's polished hand curved around your waist, leaning over your shoulder to sneakily take a sip from your champagne glass.
"How are you holding up? For me, I want to just get out of here and go home" Victoria chuckles.
