On the night of March 14th, Evan had just arrived at the venue when he ran into someone he hadn't expected—Rick.
And Rick? Well… Rick had already been brutally educated by Rossy for running his mouth earlier with some absolutely bonkers nonsense about Evan. While nothing showed on the surface, the guy's entire body was screaming in pain.
Rossy had just barely restrained herself from going full-on savage. In her rage, she'd almost torn the man's clothes off and left him standing in nothing but his underwear in front of the guests. The only reason she didn't?
Evan was watching.
Still, she gave Rick a death-glare and whispered something so chilling that Evan didn't quite catch it—but Rick? Rick's soul nearly left his body. His spine stiffened like he'd been doused in ice water.
The next second, he was nodding like a terrified donkey, swearing to never troll Evan again before disappearing faster than a shadow at dawn.
With that chaos out of the way, the trio headed to the front desk to confirm their reservation.
At first, the hotel staff gave them confused looks—understandable, considering their casual clothes. But the moment the receptionist heard their names, the mood shifted instantly. Eyes widened, backs straightened, and suddenly, the staff couldn't bow deep enough.
Evan, oblivious as ever, simply followed along.
The manager appeared almost too quickly, personally escorting them to their suite. And what a suite it was—three times larger than Evan's entire apartment. Luxury was an understatement. Inside, they found rows of tailored suits and elegant evening dresses. Rossy immediately darted off to change, zeroing in on a dress called Midnight Noir—a name Evan didn't recognize, though her attendant rattled off fashion terms like rapid-fire bullets.
Jason changed into a sleek black coat over a charcoal-gray shirt and designer jeans. The man looked like a cold, brooding villain straight out of a novel.
Evan? Not so lucky.
A male attendant bombarded him with a fashion parade, making him swap clothes for twenty whole minutes before finally settling on something decent.
Author's Note:As a guy with zero fashion sense, I gotta admit—I like my clothes comfy, oversized, and loose. If fashion had a trash tier, I'd live there.
Once they were dressed, they followed the manager toward a massive hall where the party was already in full swing. Guests mingled, music played, and glasses clinked in the background.
People began approaching them almost immediately, and Evan instinctively stepped back—he wasn't a fan of crowds.
But Rossy had other plans. She grabbed his arm, locked him in place, and smiled sweetly while introducing him around like a prized gem. He awkwardly tried to make small talk, but it wasn't going well. Rossy noticed, sighed, and finally released him.
Now free, Evan slinked over to a quiet corner with a mysterious drink in hand. It was sweet, with a subtle sour kick—something he surprisingly enjoyed. He sat there in peace, occasionally glancing at his aunt and uncle chatting away. Rossy, even while talking to others, kept checking on him from across the room.
But Evan wasn't as invisible as he thought.
Someone had been watching him from afar and finally decided to walk over.
"Hey Evan, didn't expect to see you here."
He turned, blinking in surprise. It was Fionna Blake, his teacher.
"Teacher? Oh—hi! I didn't expect you either. I came with my family," he replied, gesturing toward Jason and Rossy in the distance.
Fionna gave a half-smile. "Same. I'm here with my parents and cousin. He's catching up with some old friends, and they decided to throw this massive, overrated party. The whole city declared a holiday just for it," she added, visibly annoyed.
Evan chuckled. He hadn't expected someone from such a prestigious family to be so… relatable.
"By the way," she continued, "have you seen your friend yet?"
"James? No, I haven't. I came straight from the room," he replied, scanning the crowd.
Fionna nodded. "Well, let's go find him later. For now, come with me. I need to meet someone—my idol, actually. He should be around here somewhere…"
Her eyes sparkled as she spotted the couple in question and tugged Evan through the crowd.
They finally reached them—a distinguished-looking man and an elegant woman. Fionna stepped forward, her voice laced with respect.
"Excuse me, sir, ma'am, may we have a moment of your time?"
The woman smiled warmly. "Of course, dear."
Fionna beamed as they were led to a quieter corner.
"I'm Fionna Blake. It's an honor to meet you both—I'm a big fan," she said with a shy smile.
The man clicked his tongue. "A Blake, huh? You don't look like that old bastard."
Fionna blinked. "Yes, sir. That would be my father. I take more after my mother."
The woman chuckled softly. "Don't mind my husband, dear. He's just teasing."
"Oh no, I'm sure if he said something about my dad, my dad probably earned it," Fionna replied honestly.
"Well, let's not dive into that," the woman said gently. "Now tell me, are you friends with that young man there?" She nodded toward Evan, who had been standing behind Fionna the whole time, looking half-awkward and half-amused.
"Oh! I forgot to introduce him! This is my student, Eva—"
But the man interrupted with a smirk. "Oh, we already know each other, don't we, young man?"
Evan scratched the back of his head. "Uncle, Aunt, you could've told her we came here together…"
Fionna's eyes went wide. "Wait—what did you just say?"
"Huh? Uncle and Aunt?" she repeated, grabbing his arm.
Rossy sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Blake, he's family. He came with us to this party."
Jason nodded. "That's why he calls us Uncle and Aunt."
Fionna blinked like she'd just taken a critical hit.
"So you're telling me… I've been chatting with your aunt and uncle this whole time? And you never told me?!"
Evan shrugged. "Honestly, I didn't even realize you were talking about them."
Fionna looked mortified.
Rossy stepped forward, voice firm. "Let's forget all that. Fionna, answer me something…"
"Yes, Ma'am?" she replied, startled.
Rossy narrowed her eyes slightly.
"Can you tell me your—"