I didn’t want to go. Correction: I wanted to go, but only if I could time-travel back afterward and slap myself for wanting to go in the first place. There’s a difference. I wanted to be the kind of person who didn’t need validation, who didn’t show up to a social weaponized circus in hopes of stealing glances or crumbs of passive-aggressive praise... but unfortunately I was still in my please acknowledge I exist, sir era, and apparently that meant RSVP-ing “with pleasure” to a charity gala hosted by the woman currently rumored to be Ryan Glasgow’s moral support, PR girlfriend, and maybe future political puppet master.
Jynelle screamed when she saw the invite. I didn’t even open the envelope properly before she was already mapping out what my eyebrows would need to communicate.
“We need
