Sofia
The cafeteria was a box of glass and noise. Sunlight poured through the high windows, bouncing off chrome fixtures and polished tables, but the air felt… charged. Conversations dipped when I walked in, then resumed in hushed, deliberate tones.
It was the same look people gave me when I first took the crown of social queen here—part curiosity, admiration, part jealousy. Only now, it was wrapped in something sharper.
I didn’t need to check my phone to know why. The photos from the Midnight Lounge had been everywhere since dawn.
Theo and I, arm in arm, stepping into the room like we owned it.
The champagne in my hand, the silk of my dress catching the light.
His gaze tilted toward me, just enough to suggest intimacy.
The captions ranged from flattering to brutal:
“Laurent’s late
