Art of Misalignment

Chapter 23 Inseparable at the Banquet

The glass doors opened. Liam offered his arm. "Keep close to me," he muttered, adjusting his collar.

Zoe Croft and Olivia Bridges stepped over, crystal flutes in hand. Zoe’s eyes locked onto Maya’s dress. "Well, look who made it," Zoe said, her voice cutting through the jazz. "That dress. I saw it in a private catalog last month. It wasn't available to the public."

"It was a gift," Maya replied. "From someone who appreciates details."

"It fits perfectly," Olivia added, her eyes narrowing in envy. "Bold choice, Maya. You don't usually do colors like this."

"Things change," Maya said. She felt the heat of their envy and stood a little taller. For the first time, she felt the weight of real capital behind her.

Liam stepped forward, trying to block them. "Hey, we’re just here for a drink, alright? Give her some space."

Zoe looked at Liam. Her gaze dropped to his worn cuffs, then his messy hair. "Of course, Liam. We were just admiring the view. You look tired. Have you been sleeping?"

"I’ve been working," Liam said, "Handling real business. Not just standing around."

Zoe let out a short laugh. "Right. The tortured artist routine. Enjoy the free drinks, Liam."

They walked away. Liam let out a breath and grabbed a whiskey from a waiter. "Snobs. All of them. They think money makes them untouchable."

"They’re just talking, Liam," Maya said, watching them go.

Maya looked at his suit. It looked dull and dusty against the marble. His pride now felt like a flimsy shield. He looked like he’d been begging on the streets, and it showed.

Liam stopped another waiter. "Hey, man. You got any bourbon? This scotch is water."

"I’m sorry, sir. We only serve the selected vintage tonight," the waiter said, glancing at Liam’s wrinkled jacket before moving on.

"Right. Figures," Liam scoffed. He turned to Maya. "You okay? If they bother you again, we can leave. I got your back."

"I’m fine," Maya said. "I want to stay."

"Alright. Good." Liam forced a smile. "We stick together. I’ll go get you a drink from the main bar. What do you want?"

"Just water."

"Don't move," Liam said.

Maya watched him disappear into the crowd of tuxedos. She touched the silk at her waist. She didn't feel sorry for him. She only felt the gap between his struggle and the power of the dress.

Liam returned from the bar, handing Maya a plain glass. "They ran out of the sparkling stuff. It’s just tap," he said, "Listen, I just spotted a couple of guys over by the buffet—heavy hitters, real potential backers for the new studio. I need to get in their ear while the iron’s hot."

"You should go talk to them," Maya said, her eyes already drifting across the room.

"You're sure you'll be okay alone for a bit?" Liam asked, adjusting his worn tie. "I hate leaving you with these vultures, but if I can land one of these guys, we're not just surviving. We’re winning."

"I'm fine, Liam. Really. Go make your moves."

"Alright. I’ll be quick," Liam said, offering a tired, hopeful smile. "Just stay right here. I’ve got your back, even from across the room."

Maya watched his hunched shoulders disappear into the sea of tailored tuxedos. He looked so small, weaving through the crowd to beg for a chance.

Across the hall, Ethan’s gaze cut through the noise and locked onto Maya. He raised his glass—a silent, private toast to the red dress.

Maya’s thumb rubbed the silk at her waist. Liam was over there, sweating and hustling for a scrap of a future, while Ethan sat at the center of the universe.

A moment later, Ethan stepped away from his board members. He walked toward her, scotch in hand, a faint smile on his lips.

"He’s a busy man, isn't he?" Ethan asked, stopping beside her.

"He's trying, Ethan," Maya replied, her fingers brushing the silk at her waist.

"Trying is for people who don't have results," Ethan said. He leaned in slightly. "That red dress... it fits exactly how I thought it would. It’s a power move, Maya. You wear it well."

"It’s a bold choice," she murmured, meeting his eyes.

"If you have any more 'tricky issues'—like brothers with bad habits—just say the word," Ethan said, his voice low. "I don't need to sell my life's work to fix a problem. I just handle it. You know that, don't you?"

Maya looked at Liam across the room. He was gesturing wildly at a man who looked bored. She looked back at Ethan.

"I know," Maya said. "Thank you for the offer, Ethan."

"The band is playing a waltz," Ethan said, extending his hand. "Let's show them why you're wearing that red. Care to dance?"

Maya looked at his hand, then at the man who owned the world. She placed her hand in his. "I'd love to."

A genuine smile broke across her face, the fatigue of the last week vanishing. She looked radiant as Ethan led her toward the center of the floor.

The orchestra played a steady, cold waltz. Ethan guided Maya through the crowd, his hand firm on the small of her back.

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Ethan asked, his voice low and smooth.

“Liam’s a good man, Ethan. He believes in what he does,” Maya said, her eyes fixed on his lapel.

Ethan gave a quiet, cynical laugh. “Liam tries too hard to be the ‘artist.’ But look around, Maya. In this world, being an artist is just a slow way to drown. They’ve got no armor. No real walls.”

“He thinks art is the only thing that matters,” she whispered.

“And that’s why he’ll always be a victim,” Ethan said, pulling her closer. “Idealism doesn’t pay for safety. In this city, money is the only thing that actually gives you control. Without it, you’re just waiting for someone like Josh Carter to knock on your door.”

Maya looked up at him. All the weight she’d been carrying — the fear for Dylan, the loss of her career — started to melt away under his absolute certainty. A real smile, bright and relaxed, finally broke across her face.

Near the pillars, Liam slipped his phone back into his pocket. The gallery owner had been polite but completely dismissive. Liam tugged at his tight collar and scanned the room, searching for the one thing that still gave him hope.

He found her. He froze.

Through the gaps between tuxedos, he saw the red silk. Maya was in Ethan’s arms, her head tilted back in a laugh he hadn’t heard in months. She wasn’t just smiling — she looked radiant, completely at home in Ethan’s world.

“She’s happy,” Liam whispered to himself. A bitter weight dropped heavy into his chest.