The university campus was already abuzz with excitement when Archie and Anne first heard about the Connor family's annual alumni benefit gala. Invitations were whispered like rare treasures, glittering with promises of elegance, grandeur, and a chance to rub shoulders with the city's most influential.
Anne had secured their tickets in her typical fashion—by charming her way into the theater department's alumni circle, where her dramatic flair and endless enthusiasm made her a favorite. She waved the invitations in front of Archie's face one late afternoon, her grin wide.
"You have to come. It's fancy. It's a party. It's, like, grown-up Hogwarts meets Wall Street gala."
Archie tried to protest. "I don't know, Anne. You know those events aren't really my thing."
"Exactly," she said, flashing those determined eyes. "That's why I'm coming with you. Plus, you're bound to see William there. You have to know what's really going on."
The truth was, Archie wasn't so sure if he wanted to know. William's name had become a heavy weight, a puzzle piece lodged painfully in his chest. But curiosity—and something more fragile, a hope—pulled him in.
-
Inside the Connor Mansion
Meanwhile, in the sprawling Connor estate, preparations for the gala were in full swing.
The estate was a palace of marble floors and towering bookshelves, of gilded frames and crystal chandeliers. William paced the grand foyer, watching as his mother, Mildred, directed caterers and decorators with cold precision. The woman was a force of nature—exacting, ruthless, always poised.
"William, darling," she said without looking up from the florist's arrangement, "please remember: this gala is more than a party. It's an investment. A performance. Do not embarrass us."
William nodded, tightening the cuffs of his tuxedo. He wanted to argue—wanted to say that this wasn't just some show for him—but the words stuck in his throat.
Amanda Wynn arrived soon after, a vision in emerald silk, flawless and practiced in her smiles. She kissed William's cheek lightly, whispering, "We'll get through tonight. Together."
William forced a smile. "Together."
But inside, he felt the weight of a thousand unspoken truths, of memories slipping just beyond his reach.
-
Back on Campus
Anne dragged Archie to the student center to rent a tuxedo for the evening.
"You're seriously going to wear that?" she gasped, eyeing his rumpled sweatshirt and jeans.
Archie shrugged. "I'm not exactly a fashion icon."
Anne snorted. "You're a disaster, and that's why I like you."
At the rental shop, Archie fumbled through options, trying to find something that didn't make him look like he was playing dress-up for a costume party. Anne coached him through it, snapping her fingers. "Taller, shoulders back, chin up."
"Like this?" Archie posed awkwardly in the mirror.
"Better," Anne laughed. "But don't smile like you're in pain."
-
The Day of the Gala
On the morning of the event, Archie woke early, nerves twisting in his stomach. He went through his routine, replaying his conversations with William in his head, wondering if tonight would finally bring clarity—or chaos.
Anne texted him a pep talk:
"You've got this. Be brave, be you. And remember: I'm right there with you (in spirit and with a flask)."
Archie smiled, feeling the tiniest flicker of courage.
He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror—tuxedo neat, hair tamed, heart racing—and took a deep breath.
The gala awaited.
The stage was set.
The players were ready.
And somewhere beneath the glittering chandeliers and polished smiles, truths long buried would surface.