Shadows at the gala
889 Words
The gala was a blur of glitter and flashbulbs, like every other one Mira had survived. But tonight, something felt… off.
She could feel it in the way the cameras lingered a little too long. In the strange stiffness of the red carpet staff. In the way whispers followed her like smoke trailing from an unseen fire.
She smiled anyway. Posed. Let Jason's hand rest lightly on her back for the cameras.
Inside, the venue was breathtaking — a modern ballroom turned dreamscape: crystal chandeliers like constellations, champagne towers glittering gold, a string quartet playing a haunting melody.
Mira's heels clicked softly on the marble floor as she moved through the crowd, her satin gown trailing like ink behind her. Her mind was already elsewhere. Damon. David. Leon texting about reshoots. Jason’s eyes following her.
And that strange sensation again… like being watched too closely.
She turned sharply — but no one was there. Just more guests, more flashes. More eyes.
Her throat tightened.
Not tonight.
She needed air.
Mira slipped away from the crowd, past velvet ropes and distracted staff, ducking behind a row of curtains. She found a narrow hallway, dimly lit, leading to the rear gardens.
She took the first door she could find and stepped outside—
Only to hear voices rise behind her.
“Where’d she go?”
“She ducked behind the bar—”
“Get the drone back overhead—now—”
Panic prickled her spine. The paparazzi had seen her leave. Cameras were following. A spotlight cut briefly across the sky.
No. No. Not tonight.
She turned to run—but the door behind her burst open.
Footsteps.
Flashlights.
Her lungs clenched—
And then—
A hand grabbed her wrist.
Strong. Steady.
A voice in her ear: “Come with me. Now.”
Before she could scream, he yanked her sideways through a gap in the hedge wall, then into a narrow stone corridor tucked between garden columns. The world spun—shouts behind them faded. A security drone buzzed overhead, but couldn’t see.
They ducked into a small side room — unlit, quiet. Safe.
He shut the door behind them.
And for a moment, they were alone in the dark.
Mira’s back hit the cold wall as she tried to catch her breath, heart racing. Her skin burned from the adrenaline. Her mask had slipped.
She looked up, finally able to see his face.
Not security. Not staff.
Not Jason.
Someone else.
Young — maybe her age or slightly older. Sharply dressed in a midnight suit, no tie, his shirt collar open just enough to be disarming. Tousled dark hair. Pale scar beneath one cheekbone. Eyes like obsidian — unreadable.
He studied her. Like he knew exactly who she was.
“…Who are you?” Mira demanded, breathless.
“I just saved you from being hunted like an animal,” he said calmly. “You’re welcome.”
She stepped back. “I didn’t ask you to.”
“No,” he agreed. “But you needed it anyway.”
Mira’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not press.”
“Nope.”
“Security?”
He smirked. “Not officially.”
The silence between them stretched.
Then—
“Why help me?” she asked.
He shrugged, stepping closer. “Because I know what it’s like to run from something you can’t name. And because… you looked like you were about to snap out there.”
Her expression darkened. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know enough,” he said. Then added, almost to himself: “Your eyes give too much away.”
She went still.
His gaze lingered on her a second longer — not intrusive, not hungry, but searching. Then he opened the door behind him.
“Go back out the long way. Left corridor, service exit. No one will see you.”
“…Why should I trust you?”
He smiled faintly.
“You shouldn’t. But if I meant to expose you, I’d have already sold the footage.”
Then he was gone.
The door clicked shut.
And Mira was alone again.
---
《Scene: Outside – Back Lot, Moments Later》
Mira stepped out of the garden gate and walked quickly down the path, dodging lights, sound techs, and delivery trucks. No cameras in sight.
She inhaled sharply. The air was cold. Clean.
Her phone buzzed.
> Leon: “Where the HELL did you go?? You missed your solo segment. Jason’s covering for you—barely.”
> Leon (again): “Are you okay?? Do not ghost me like that again.”
She didn’t reply.
Not yet.
Instead, she glanced once over her shoulder — back toward the gala.
That guy…
He wasn’t press. Wasn’t hired. Wasn’t on any list.
And yet…
He knew exactly how to get her out.
---
《Scene: Unknown Rooftop – Same Night》
The mystery man stood under the edge of a rooftop, watching the gala unfold through binoculars. His phone buzzed.
> UNKNOWN CONTACT: “Did you make contact?”
He typed:
> Yes. She’s smarter than they think. But the cracks are showing.
Pause.
> UNKNOWN: “Be careful. She’s not the only one being watched.”
He smiled to himself, pocketed the phone, and turned away — disappearing into the shadows.
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- Writer
