The suite didn’t empty with Andrew and Carrie’s exit. If anything, the absence of their polished presence loosened the room completely. It was like someone had gently lifted a velvet curtain, revealing the version of the group that only emerged when they weren’t under the watchful eyes of their two resident overachievers. Conversations grew louder, laughter spilled freer, and the once-composed group transformed into a whirlwind of pure, chaotic nightlife energy.
Damien and Joan had claimed the velvet couches as a runway, taking turns strutting while the others cheered. Joan raised her arms as if commanding an invisible fashion crowd, her heels threatening the structural integrity of the furniture, while Damien exaggerated his hip swings with the confidence of someone who had long accepted
